#they still work but it's hard to do much with them except bite

[venusrising91]

Gym-body

Pairing: Huta x Male reader

Genre: Smut 18+ mdni

Summary: You've always wanted a gym body. Your new trainer can help you achieve it—if you could only pry your eyes off his toned biceps for long enough to follow instructions. (Thank you to brattyboy for the request!)

Word count: 1,755 (2 pgs)

You weren’t sure if you could trust your own two eyes. It was pretty early and you hadn’t had any coffee yet. Only a bitter pre-workout drink. The interior of the gym was pretty dark. It was barely 6AM—the only available time-slot for the gym’s most highly reviewed and sought after personal trainer. He stood near the weights, looking suspiciously similar to the only boy you’ve ever had a crush on—Huta Lee. 

Except he wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. Tall and muscular. So carved that he could’ve been a Greek god. 

What the fuck was he doing here? 

You should’ve paid closer attention to the photos on his employee profile. In them, his face had been obscured by a mask but now, as you looked at his page on your phone again, huddled in the corner near the mirrors, you saw that the eyes staring out at you from within the screen were familiar. You could never forget those eyes: dreamy and dark.

“You my 6am client?” asked Huta, walking toward you with two dumb-bells. 

You had resolved to leave but…fuck. Too late to chicken out now.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am,” you replied, voice trembling.

“What are you doing hiding in the corner? Come out. I won’t bite.”

You pocketed your phone and shuffled over to him. Did he recognize you? You hoped not. He never took much notice of you in high-school. But you always noticed him. He’d gotten so much bigger since those teenage days—you could hardly believe this was the same scrawny Huta that you were so enamored with back then.

He eyed you as you stood before him, then asked, “So what area are you looking to strengthen?” As he said this, he assessed your body, dragging his gaze over your chest, your arms, then lower, lingering on your…fuck. 

                fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!

You were getting hard just off the sight of him, the outline of your arousal creating a tent in your shorts.

“Is that because of me?” asked Huta. You froze. He saw it? 

Your heart quickened, beating fast as you scrambled for a reply. 

Huta chuckled. “Relax, I’m just fucking with you. Certain pre-workout drinks make me hard, too. Some dudes get wood for a while because of the increased blood flow. Should wear off once we start warming up.”

You were so flustered that you didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Every word and sentence went right out of your head. All you could focus on was the throbbing between your legs—of Huta’s lips and eyes as they gazed out at you. Of his chiseled body and the faint traces of his cologne as it wafted through the air around you.

“I...I think I should go,” you said.

Huta chuckled again. “Oh come on, it’s just an erection, bro. It’ll wear off. Let's go, pick up the weights. We’ll do a few sets, take the edge off.”

You did as he said, albeit with a degree of reluctance.

 He guided you through a warm-up and a full body work-out. By the time it was over, you were still aching and erect. It had been so long since anyone touched you. And Huta had his hands on you, spotting you through most of the session. You practically raced out of the gym after finishing the last set.

For the rest of the day, he was all you could think about. At work, at dinner, in the shower.

Later that night in bed, you set your alarm and thought about the session as you lay there. Behind your closed eyes, Huta came into focus, the fantasy of being with him weaving itself to life in the blank space of your mind. You couldn’t resist touching yourself, and came hard to the thought of him—of his naked body, then drifted.

In the morning, he was there waiting for you in the gym. The workout was just as painstaking as yesterday’s. Twice he caught sight of the bulge between your legs, widening his eyes as he regarded it.

“Starting to think you’ve got a crush on me,” Huta said with a devious grin after spotting you for a round of sit-ups. 

You adjusted your shorts and rose, feeling too shy to respond. You didn’t trust the words that might spill from your lips. Around him, you felt so insecure and unsure of yourself, and just like the sight of your hardened cock, Huta noticed this, too. “Wait, don’t tell me you actually—”

“What if I do?” you blurted it out with no thought for consequences. 

The look in his eyes. What were you thinking saying something like that? You wanted to kick yourself. Quickly, you collected your gym bag and rushed through the doors. 

Huta shouted after you. 

Outside of your pulse roaring like a lion in your ears, you could hear nothing, and you refused to stop for clarification. Whatever he’d said, he could say it to your back.

At home, you tried to forget. It was all so stupid of you. Huta was just as unavailable to you now as he had been in high school. You considered quitting the gym, and you would have, but you’d already paid in advance for three more sessions. If you kept your mouth shut and your eyes down, maybe you could get through them without another foolish incident.

The next morning (following a restless night) you entered the gym and found Huta waiting. He was frowning. Your gazes met for a split second. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but his expression didn’t look welcoming in the least.

He was short with you—ordering you around and giving you hard looks for the entirety of the session. During your last set, he glared at you, arms crossed.

“The other day. What was that about?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, y/n.”

Your name. He’d said your name. Your real name (you’d given him a fake one once you realized who he was) He knew you?

“You know who I—”

“Of course I do. Clocked you as soon as you walked through the doors for our first session. You haven’t changed a bit. Still as shy and awkward as ever. Thought you might’ve outgrown it. Guess I was wrong.”

You didn’t know what to say.  Seconds ticked by in silence. Then: “Why do you keep teasing me about my—”

“About your hard-on? Why do you think?”

“I-I-I…don’t—I…”

“Are you seriously that clueless?”

You couldn’t think straight, and gathered your belongings, then headed for the locker room. You needed to get away from him.

But he followed you inside.

The next few moments were a blur. Before you realized it, Huta had you pinned against one of the lockers, breathing down on you. He stood so close that the tips of your noses touched.

“I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember. You were my biggest crush,” he said against your mouth.

All this time, he wanted you, too? 

Something unfurled in you, so many years of pent up passion and wanting bursting forth all at once to claim you. You reached into Huta’s sweatpants and took him in your hand. He groaned at the contact, throwing his head back.

“That’s it, just like that,” he whispered as you stroked him. After a few pulls he drew back. “Not here,” he said, panting. With this, he grabbed you by the wrist and led you out of the locker room.

He’d taken you to the showers. It was early, and there were barely any gym-goers present. Every stall was empty. Huta pulled back the curtain of one and ushered you inside. He had his mouth on you in an instant. Sucking and biting at your willing flesh.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” Huta said, trailing kisses across your chest. All you could do was moan as his lips and tongue traced lustful patterns against you. 

“I want you inside me,” you panted, breathless.

He took a break from kissing you and grinned, turning on the shower in the process. Each of you stripped off your clothing. Then slowly,  he reached behind you, and within moments, his fingers found your hole. He pushed at your entrance, gently. The water streamed over both of your naked bodies, providing a small amount of lubrication. Just not enough. 

You winced as his finger sank deeper into your tight ring of muscles.

“Loosen up, baby—relax, I won’t hurt you,” Huta said as he pressed a kiss into the hollow of your throat.

You grabbed hold of his erection as he finger fucked you, giving him tight fisted pumps. He moaned after each one, and in response, pushed his finger further into your depths. Your hole absorbed him, up to the knuckle. The pleasure made your eyes roll back.

He had you leaking all over the shower floor from the rhythm of his steady penetration.

“That’s it. Look how well you’re taking it. Good boy,” he said as he grabbed a handful of your ass, and spread your cheeks wider. He swirled his digit deeper inside of you. You almost came, and would have, but he stopped abruptly, easing his finger out of you. The sensation made you whimper and tremble. “Lean against the wall. I want to lick you.”

He didn’t wait for you to move, and shoved you against the tiles of the stall. Before you knew it, his tongue was inside of you, licking that delicate, forbidden place. He ate you like a main dish. Halfway through, he brought his hand around to tug on your hard cock. His efforts resulted in two back to back orgasms, each leaving you weaker than the last. By the third, you watched the thick ropes shooting down the drain in amazement. Stunned that your body had produced so much semen for him.

Huta would have given you a fourth orgasm, but you stopped him. 

“Had enough?” he asked, licking his lips.

You nodded. “Just about.”

“My turn, then. Get on your knees.”

You didn’t have to be told. You were longing to taste him. He made the most beautiful, ruined, helpless sounds as you swallowed his length, taking it to the back of your throat.

“Oh, fuck, y/n, just like that. Don’t stop.”

You didn’t intend to. Not even when you’d drained him of his load. He’d lost it quickly. You had been eager to please him. He praised you afterward, calling you a good boy, and showering you with compliments.

The two of you had made a mess in the shower stall. You bathed together, each working a lather on the other.

Back in the locker room, you dressed and exchanged what could only be described as coy pillow talk.

If every work-out was going to end like this, then you’d have the perfect gym body in no time. 

[junebugtwin]

A half werewolf half hydra oc of mine, her names Charlie and she’s a 300 something year old lesbian with a biting problem. She has so many mouths to smile from :)

[cowboy-robooty]

me when i read the gay porn genre comics and get mad theres gay porn

[ambros1an]

sunday x reader - halovian courtship

warning: no spoilers, gn! reader, pining/soft sunday, Sunday info dumping as usual

summary: where Sunday will do everything except confess, and you just think he’s emotionally stunted.

a/n: i read about birds for this

halovian courting rituals

1. Gift giving. Like their close bird companions, Halovians participate in 'nuptial gifts,' a form of gift giving to a potential partner.

You were walking into the Oak Family Headquarters, Dewlight Pavilion, sent to deliver some letters. Although, you’ve been here before, it was still a bit nerve wracking to be in such a place, undetached from your usual position as a lower end employee.

The entrance to Oak Family Head’s office was right in front of you. You bite your lip, shifting the documents to your other arm and knock.

“Nightingale Famil-“

The door swings open. The family head holding the door stands to the side.

“Ah,” Sunday says your name, “it’s you.”

Your eyes widen, blinking a couple times. He remembers me?

“Yes, it’s nice to see you again Mr. Sunday. I’ve come with documents from the Nightingale family detailing a new plan for the dreamscape.”

He looks a bit disappointed?

He chuckles, then calls out to a lone employee, “you’re dismissed for today, I’ll take care of the rest.”

The Oak employee dips his head and leaves. Watching him leave fills a pit in your stomach.

“Mr. Sunday, is something wrong?”

Sunday sits up suddenly, “Oh, no. Not at all.” It’s that movement that makes you realize that he’s been fidgeting with something in his lap…Is he always like this?

“I guess I was just a bit surprised,” he smiles, looking down to the side. You caught him.

“Surprised? To see me?” Although Sunday and you have met a few times. It was always business, just like now—well maybe he did stare a bit intently at you before, but something really was different this time!

He looks up and sheepishly slides a box across the table. “Take it as…being a good part of The Family.”

For a few moments, your eyes set upon him. What is he planning? It’s a small box. Almost nothing could fit in there. You lift the top up.

You gasp. Earrings worth more than your entire life’s salary. You slam it shut.

“M-Mr. Sunday. This really isn’t necessary. I just—“ you ramble on. Sunday places his gloved hand on yours.

“Please, take it.”

Looking into his eyes, you realize that putting up a fight with the Oak Head won’t get you anywhere. You reluctantly take the box.

2. Preening. Similar to nature, touching a Halovian's wings is an intimate gesture to show one's interest in a romantic partner. Someone should never touch a Halovian's wings without asking!

Soon after, you come across Sunday again. This time at the Nightingale Family’s institution. You were putting away blueprints, plans and documents your coworkers left laying around haphazardly. When a familiar voice calls out to you.

“Good evening. Working hard, I see.”

“Mr. Sunday?”

He approached you, then looked around the room. He seemed to realize the situation you were in and scorned your coworkers. He mumbled something about you and moving to the “Oak Family.” As he spoke his wings were fluttering. They looked smooth and soft.

“You’ve been staring at my wings. Do they interest you that much?” He chuckles.

“Well, they are very pretty but—“

“Would you like to touch them?” A light blush spreads across his face. Despite that, he seemed perfectly poised. His hands clasped behind his back, standing straight and looking right at you.

“I-is that alright?” tumbles from your lips. You hesitantly reach out.

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

Upon touching them, Sunday’s wings twitched away from you before settling down. The feathers are soft and plush. Some are darker in color while others are more pale. They’re surprisingly fluffy. A bit like fur but more delicate.

The blush darkened, his gaze shifted off to the wall. His composure utterly broken, his hands fidgeted behind his back.

“Did you know that birds groom each other as a social activity? It occurs between…ma-members of a flock.” He sputters. What is he saying?

Your fingers stroking his feathers create a flutter within his stomach. He leans into the touch. Taking that as a sign to continue, you reach farther up, a light brush into the coverts of his feathers. Sunday gasps and pulls away.

“…You must take good care of them. Are all Halovian wings soft like yours?”

He wishes that moment would never end.

3. Song. During courtship rituals many birds of different species tend to sing and dance. While that is popular among Halovian people, some may chose show affection through instruments instead.

One day, a notice appears at your door. Upon examining it you realize it’s an invitation from Sunday, instructing you to his office within the Dewlight Pavilion.

Could it be about the documents you sent him last time? You wrack your brain for any possible explanation. He had been acting weirder than usual.

Heat build up in your face upon recalling Sunday’s recent appreciation for you. The earrings that are far too expensive to wear anywhere, and even worse—you bury your face into your hands. In a profound display of unprofessionalism, he let you touch his wings.

Still, every muscle in your body jittered with excitement, even though it shouldn’t.

♫ ♬ ♩

Suddenly, the closer you got, the more the hallway echoed with the sound of a violin. Slowly, you carefully stepped towards the sound, till you found its source.

Sunday was playing the violin. You couldn’t help but freeze where you were and watch him. He truly did look like angel. As he drew his bow across the strings, the light from the window shined down on him. His hair reflected the light appearing almost white. Was he always this beautiful?

Abruptly, he stands up, “You’re early. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you closed the door behind you, “I didn’t know you could play. What song was it?”

He places the violin down on his table and approached you, “It’s ‘Salut d’amor,’ one of the first pieces I learned how to play,” Sunday put his hand behind his back, “the dream master was the one that taught me.”

“It was very pretty, I can tell you’ve been playing for a long time.”

“Thank you.” A light blush spreads onto his cheeks, but it’s gone before you can realize it.

A loud silence sweeps the room. The two of you avert your eyes. This side of Sunday feels so different from what you’ve been told. He always maintains a professional barrier. But if so, what was this?

Sunday calls your name, “how do you feel about me?”

“What?” The question is so out of the blue, you must’ve heard wrong, “I think you’re a nice guy—“

“I meant as a partner, I thought you knew. Was I not obvious enough?” He mumbles over the last sentence.

“I—well—“ you stumble over your words. He was serious. The earrings, the wing touching, the invitation. You dismissed it as him buttering you up. The ‘most handsome man in Penacony’ as delegated by the latest magazines, had feelings for you?

Your face felt so hot, you felt as if you could combust into flames at any moment, “I feel the same.”

His expression softened. “That’s a relief, I don’t have to cancel those reservations then.”

“Reservations?! Mr. Sunday-“

“Just Sunday. I’ll pick you up later then,” he smiled, then placed his hand near your ear, as if looking for something, “Oh, but this time remember to wear those earrings.”

a/n #2: soft Sunday is real, did u see how protective he was of Robin in the quest? i need more hoyo. feed my delusion

[bobafetts-princess]

What Were You Thinking?

Summary: After saving civilians on a mission, Logan is furious that you almost died. (You didn’t almost die) He reminds you that he needs you in the most Logan-esque way possible.

Pairings: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Logan gets rough. Hair pulling, ass slapping, biting, Logan doesn’t handle his woman getting hurt very well. Dirty talk. Scott is annoying. Logan goes soft after he finishes.

A/N: If you’ve seen this on ao3, I’m the same person! I edited this so it’s a little different from my ao3 version. I like this a little more tbh.

The mission was successful. Everyone made it out alive and with minimal scratches. Well, everyone except you. You’d thrown yourself on top of civilians, trying to shield them from harm. You were a bontanokinetic, the ability to control plants, but you also had advanced healing. So even though you sustained major injuries from the bomb that went off 20 feet from you, all the civilians were safe and you were almost healed. You’d covered the civilians with plants and tree roots but only had time to cover your upper body before the blast went off. You took some debris full force, leaving you with deep cuts. Most of the them were healed by now, only the deepest still scars.

You weren’t sure that the civilians safety mattered to your boyfriend, Logan, as much as it did to you though. He always had so much adrenaline after a mission. He usually dragged you to the back of the plane and fucked you senseless to work it off. He would fuck you double when he got ahold of you this time, his fear taking the forefront. He wanted to fuck you to make sure you were real. Make sure you were safe in his arms and stuffed with his cock. He did the same when he had nightmares about you hurt or killed. He usually woke you, cock nudging at you, until he was sure you were awake. He’d plunge inside, fucking you until he was sure it had been a dream. Just a nightmare. It wasn’t real. Being buried deep inside you was the best way for Logan to bring himself back to reality. And boy, you’d fucked up this time. You were in for the most animalistic version of Logan there was.

“Are you alright?” Charles asked, hand soft on the inside of your elbow. You nodded at him, appreciative of the concern in his voice. They all knew what was to come and while they knew Logan would never hurt you, they always checked on you, to be sure you could handle him.

“LILLY.” You heard a deep voice shout your moniker and you turned towards it. Logan was striding towards you, lit cigar hanging out of his mouth. You rolled your eyes, you were fine, no one dead, the big bad in custody. He didn’t speak again until he reached you, grasping you roughly by the arm.

“What were you thinking?” He snarled, animal inside him beginning to take over.

“I was thinking I was saving some civilian lives.” You responded dryly, annoyed at his reaction. This was your job. Saving people from evil. There was always a risk with it. He needed to get over it. He began tugging you towards the helicopter, all the other mutants clearing out of your way as he thundered along.

“You could have gotten yourself KILLED.” He growled, spinning so that you were chest to chest. Even in your irritation with him you still reveled in the feel of his hard body against your softer one. He looked down on you, hazel eyes hard but laced with concern.

“I’m fine Logan, I heal nearly as fast as you do. It’s a scratch now.” You assured him, placing your hands on his chest. You moved his hands to your tattered jumpsuit leg, showing him the pretty pink scar that would disappear within the hour. His fingers trailed the puckered flesh, still sensitive from healing.

“You could have DIED.” He reiterated. His mouth crashed to yours, cigar in his hand now. His other hand grabbed the back of your neck to anchor you in place. A fire started to burn in your body and you couldn’t wait to get back to the plane. To let Logan work his frustrations and fears out, using you. You decided not to argue this time, to let him take what he needed. “I’m not losing you.” He said, his voice softer, but still a low and threatening rumble throughout his chest.

“Hey good job Lil!” A voice shouted at you from across the wreckage. “You saved the day out there. The way you handled all that debris being thrown at you? Amazing. You almost died! It was an intense moment.” Scott laughed, clapping you on the shoulder even though you were still chest to chest with Logan. The motion knocked you into him and it broke the calm over the two of you. Logan hardened, features distorted with annoyance and anger. He shot Scott a glare, mouth curling into a snarl. Scott knew that you were a sensitive spot for Logan so he’d take any opportunity to dig at Logan. Scott had never gotten over Logan’s little crush on Jean, even after the two of you had gotten together. So when the opportunity to push Logan’s buttons arose, Scott would always take it.

It didn’t make sense, he wasn’t reaping any rewards, except for keeping Logan away from Jean. Which hadn’t been an issue in at least a year and if you were being honest with yourself, wasn’t entirely Logan’s fault in the first place. The feeling had been mutual between them but Scott had a tough time seeing it that way.

Logan hauled you over his shoulder, cigar back in his mouth as he stalked towards heli-carrier that housed the X-Men on their trip back from a mission.

“Don’t you think you’re being dramatic?” You asked and only got an angry grunt in return.

“Don’t you think nearly getting yourself killed is a little dramatic?” He snapped as he walked up the ramp.

When Logan got dominant like this, it brought out his animalistic side and you ended up covered in his marks. He found your room, a shared one, and shut and locked the door behind him.

He flopped you down on the small bed, releasing himself from his uniform quicker than usual. He always went commando so he was standing before you completely naked before you even had a chance to blink. You moved to get yours off but he beat you to it, tearing the uniform with his bare hands. Charles was not going to be happy about having to replace yours, again. Logan did the same with your bra and underwear and while you thought he was being a touch ridiculous, it was also hot.

You were in for it rough this time. He was high on adrenaline, pissed, and worried. He didn’t hardly take any time to prep you, but it didn’t matter. You were so wet at the manhandling that when he thrust two fingers in you it wasn’t enough, you needed more. He replaced his fingers with his cock giving you enough time to adjust so he wouldn’t hurt you. You could hear his heavy breathing from above you, his nostrils flaring as he exercised every inch of his control. When you were ready for him you told him so and he gave you a few sharp thrusts to make sure. Logan wasn’t a small man in that area, thick and long, so he had to make sure you were ready.

Once he decided you were he started a brutal and relentless pace that only Logan could keep up with for an extended period of time. Your body heated at his dominance, the way that he chased his own release without worrying about yours. But that’s because he knew you would come either way. Your hand traveled down your body, reaching for your clit to give yourself a little extra pleasure. Before you could, your hands were pushed away, stretched out above your body as Logan’s fingers circled around it instead. His body was warm against yours, his thrusts hard and unending. His thumb circled the nub, his teeth marking your breasts. The pressure he put on your clit was intense and you pushed closer and closer to orgasm. His grunts and groans were increasing in volume and he sounded like a wild man, a caged animal. Your body ached for your orgasm, you could almost taste it, so when he bent to bite on your nipple you lost it. Screaming and clenching around him, your hips met his thrust for thrust until it was over.

Once you came down, he pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach. He crawled up your body, entering you again this time, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking your head backwards. The arch in your back allowed him deep, his balls slapping your clit with each thrust. He bent to bite his way across your neck and shoulder, pushing you closer and closer to another orgasm.

“Think again, little girl, before you try to sacrifice yourself when I’m around.” He grunted, smacking your ass to emphasize his point. His name was falling from your lips, punctuated only by your groans. His words were the only reminder about why he was fucking you like this. Even though you didn’t sacrifice yourself, it felt like it to him. Your hands were braced on the bed, but he grabbed them one by one, not releasing your hair. He pinned them behind your back and held them down. You were at his mercy, you were his toy. You didn’t have the strength to get him off of you but you didn’t want to. You loved when he pinned you. Made you helpless for him. This was your favorite way to get fucked by Logan, hard, rough, and fast. Your second orgasm was building, and when Logan bit down on your right shoulder you fluttered around him. His bites got rougher when he got closer and he usually broke skin when he came.


“Fuck. I’m gonna come in this sweet pussy.” He told you, teeth catching your ear and smelling your hair, his secret kink. He loved the way you smelled when you were turned on. His sense of smell was so strong that your sex pheromones always pushed him over the edge. You always knew he was close when he did this and you knew if you wanted to come a second time you’d have to work for it. But you were surprised when he let go of your hair and moved to focus on your clit instead. His circles the little bud, increasing his pressure with each pass. Before you knew it you were screaming your release, clamping down on his cock. It triggers his own orgasm and he roars, thrusting to the hilt and sinking his teeth in your shoulder hard enough to break skin. He empties himself into you, cock twitching in tune with your pussy pulsing.

“Fuck. That was fucking good.” He growled in your ear, rubbing his face against your hair to soak up your scent. He releases your arms, pulling you upright against him. “Don’t scare me like that again. I don’t want to lose you.” He admits. You nodded, your body aching from the marathon his body had put you through. He spun you, kissing you gently. “I love you.” He grunts, letting his softer side show. The two of you get dressed, stealing kisses and touches between layers of clothes. When you walk out to join the others, the bite marks Logan had left on you were only small scars, save the one that broke skin. It was red but healing, barely visible under your top.

Everyone eyes Logan warily, wondering if he’d worked out all his anger. He lays a hand softly on your hip, kissing your temple and you could feel the welcome sigh of relief from everyone else.

“Are we ready to go?” He asks, strapping you into your seat before he straps himself in. Charles nods at Scott and Storm and they start to take off.

[thinkinonsense]

old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl *mdni

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something smutty so if it sucks im sorry lmao also if any writers have any tips please share! :)

logan has been around for long enough to know when a woman is attracted to him. there was a certain essence given off that was always a dead giveaway. usually it came from women close to the age he looked like and it tended to be brief moments of lust before all hope was lost. this was until he met you.

the pretty young girl working at the diner during her time off from college. everyday, he came in and ordered a black coffee. the coffee wasn't even that good but logan would spend two dollars every single day of his life if it came with the view of you bending over in that tiny uniform skirt.

logan would watch you for hours while he drank and skimmed the news paper alone in a booth. your hair was always up in either a ponytail or held together with a hair clip. he loved seeing your pretty handwriting as you scribbled on your notepad, taking orders. it was part of your job to be nice to everyone but you were especially nice to him. even your friends began to notice how you would linger by his table, constantly topping off his coffee mug and making small talk; sometimes giving him a slice of cherry pie on the house.

"don't you think he's kinda old for you?" one of your friends whispers to you behind the counter.

it's stung but you suppose she had a point. what would a man old enough to be your father want with a young wild girl like yourself?

"i-i guess so?" you stuttered, embarrassed at your previous attempt at flirting with him.

the rest of the night, you hoped he would leave before close so you could have some time alone with your feelings. summer was almost over and you would go back to the city soon. it was time to forget these silly fantasizes.

by ten, all the other waitresses went home except you, the older woman in the back who counted the drawer every night, and a few of the cooks. the only customer still there was logan. he flipped through one of the books he brought with him; still sipping away at that damn coffee.

"isn't it getting a little late for you, sweetheart?" he asked nonchalantly, not even looking up at you as you bent over to scrub the table next to his. the fifth table you've cleaned in the last hour and the second time you've cleaned that specific table. logan noticed but you didn't.

"need the hours." you mumble, frustrated by a stubborn stain. all logan could focus on was your scrunched nose and how your tight top pushed your boobs together just right for his viewing. "college is fucking expensive plus grants and scholarships only cover so much."

"hmm.." logan grunts. grants? scholarship? what a goody fucking two shoes, logan thought to himself. "if you bring me piece of pie, i think i can help you out."

you lean off the table and go get what's left in the glass container. it's probably a little hard so you definitely didn't plan on charging him for it. you sit the plate down in front of him and before you could turn around to walk away, logan reaches for your wrist softly.

"join me." he offers.

you knew you shouldn't but what was really the harm? at least your friends weren't here to make fun of you. the radio played quietly on an older station while you watched logan take a bite of the pie.

"why did your friends leave you here alone?" he asked, watching your face turn sour at the memory of them.

"don't wanna talk about it." your voice was small in the empty diner.

"why? think an old man like me can't relate to it?" logan chuckles. your thighs squeeze together without thinking. so much for not embarrassing yourself.

"no, no, not that." you shake your head and a strand of hair falls from your bun. "just sort of juvenile, you know?"

logan could tell that you were trying to come off more mature around him. you didn't want him to see you as some college kid.

"juvenile, how?" he eggs on, pushing down his glasses a bit.

god, those glasses got to you; and logan knew it.

"they don't understand how i feel about someone." you sigh.

"how do you feel about this person?" logan noticed you now avoiding his gaze, not liking it one bit. "eyes on me, princess."

the nickname caught you off guard like a dear in headlight; blinking and trembling up at logan. something logan enjoyed very much and could get used to.

"it's not important, just some stupid crush." you lie through your teeth. "they will forget about me in a month."

"why don't you think it'll work?" he cocks his head to the side a bit. "you're a pretty young thing, dollface. anyone of those college boys would be lucky to be wrapped around your little finger."

"i don't want college boys." you mumble, slightly annoyed by the memory of your friends.

logan felt himself getting hard at you admitting you had a taste for someone older. his eyes grew dark as he leaned in a little over the table.

"then what do you want?"

your moment to answer was interrupted by the older woman from the back, releasing you to go home for the evening. this was your chance to get up and leave before you admitted anything else that you would regret.

both of you stood up. logan threw down some cash while you went to collect your stuff behind the counter.

"i'll see you tomorrow, lo-"

"you didn't answer the question."

"i must go now if i want to catch the last train."

logan worried about you taking the train back to your apartment alone this late at night. usually you drive back but your car has been in the shop for almost three days now. he would watch you get to your car every night to make sure you were safe.

"i can drive you home." logan offers.

you shouldn't be this excited to be sitting in a strangers truck alone at night but here you were. the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before logan brought up the conversation from the diner again. what did you even want?

"i want someone who understands me..." you begin rattling off the first things that come to mind when you notice logan's hand on your knee. you don't dare move.

"someone who is responsible..." with every word, his hand creeps higher and higher up your skirt. logan is more than pleased when he notices your legs spread on their own.

"someone who is m-mature..." logan's fingers inch towards the delicate skin of your inner thigh. there's no way this was happening, you thought as his index finger plays with the lace on the center of your pink underwear. he smirked at the wet spot front and center, waiting for him.

"treats me r-r-right." every word was a struggle to form as he stroked you softly. back and forth. back and forth.

logan nods along, not letting up down below. his index finger hooks onto your underwear, pulling it aside. you weren't even sure if you were breathing at this point; all this teasing was torture.

"p-p-please, logan..." you whine. "touch me."

his thumb rubs tiny circles on your button, adoring the way his name pours from your glossy lips. your hands fly to his wrists, needing more; nails digging into his skin in the most delicious way.

"where did this greediness come from?" logan groans, dipping his index finger inside of you. "what happened to that good girl from the diner?"

logan's finger barely fit in the tight space. your head fell back and a loud moan escaped you.

"oh, you weren't letting those college boys touch you at all, huh?" logan mocks, adding another finger and creating a steady pace.

"n-no!" you whine, lifting your hips a little.

"you were waiting for a real man to have his way with you, isn't that right, pretty girl?" he growls, pushing your hips back down.

you completely missed logan pulling off to the side of the road until now. his pace increases becoming rather rough now that he isn't driving. logan leaves deep purple bruises down your neck and across your chest, praising you to no end until you gush around his fingers, completely soaking his palm.

your heart pounded like you had just finished a marathon. logan allowed you to catch your breath as he carefully removed his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick clean. he can feel your dazy eyes staring at him as he does so, making a real show of it.

"i've been wanting to do that for months now." he admits with a smirk.

"me too." you said, leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss; tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. logan wraps his hands around your hair, pulling you back a little when another moan falls from your lips.

"and we aren't even close to being done."

[l13]

part two here

cw: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI!!!! f!reader, peter is married and having thoughts of reader soo cheating? voyeurism, masturbation, peter getting off to you and miguel fucking:), not proofread

perv!peter b parker who comes in Miguel's control room (or whatever the fuck) ready to annoy the fuck out of him, when he’s suddenly very glad he didn’t bring his daughter with him as the obscene sounds from up above reach his ears.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, mi vida. Look at you, dripping down my cock. Couldn’t even wait till I was finished hm?” if that wasn’t proof enough for what you guys were doing, then the sloppy sound of Miguel fucking his cock in your pussy gave it all away.

Peter felt as if someone threw cold water down his back, and he searches his brain for answers- something to justify the outline of his now hard cock in his pants. You were attractive, he wasn’t blind, but weirdly enough he’d never thought about you that way.

Until now, that is. Now, that he can hear your pretty moans and whimpers of Miguel’s name as you beg him to go faster, to fuck you deeper, to make you come.

Peter’s thankful that the floating platform is all the way up, and that he has no view of you, or else he’d never be able to get the picture of your body, of your face scrunched up in pleasure, out of his mind. It would ruin him.

In fact, Peter could see nothing except Miguel’s wide back, shoulders hunched over, no doubt holding your thighs up for easier access. Fuck, Peter could feel precum dripping down the tip of his cock, at the vile picture forming in his head.

He was so hard that it hurt, and he could feel the stinging of his eyes, tears gathering up fast. He wanted to touch himself so bad, but he couldn't. He shouldn’t.

“Hah- shit. What if someone came in here, bebita? hear you like this? See you like this? You'd like that, wouldn’t you? Ffuck you tightened up so much when I said that. Such a little slut for me. Say it.”

Peter turns around, ready to walk out the door. He shouldn’t be here, he wasn’t allowed to be here during this. He should go home. MJ was waiting for him to- Fuck, MJ. He has a wife. What the fuck was he doing? He-

“Yes! yes fuck, i want everyone to know that im a good slut for you!Ah-want them to see me like this pleasepleaseplease”

Peter clamps a hand over his mouth, and moans, letting himself fall against the wall, elbow propped up against the surface to keep him upright, and he bites his lip roughly, keeping his mouth shut just so that he could palm himself through his sweatpants.

God, fuck, he wanted to see you so badly. He wanted to be the one fucking you, to be the one pulling those sounds from you. Hell, he’d let you pull those sounds from him. he’d do anything - using you or being used by you. Peter couldn't decide which thought excited him more.

His last remaining morals were thrown out the window when you cried out, and he could hear you thrash around, Miguel muttering praises and encouraging words that fall deaf on peter’s ears. By that point, Peter had completely tuned out any sound Miguel made, choosing to focus on your pleas and cries.

Peter was full on jerking his cock now, sweatpants bunched up at his ankles, as he fucks the lame excuse of a hole his hand made, all the while imagining that it’s you. He was timing his thrusts to the sound of your broken moans, having to bite on his forearm to keep quiet as he whimpers and grunts, drool running down his chin.

Unbeknownst to Peter, the platform, slowly but surely, makes its way down to the floor. After all, even if Peter made sure he was being quiet, that was still loud as fuck to Miguel's ears, who had heard him the minute he stepped in the room.

2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

don't wanna leave this play date

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: you and mike find a way to make a boring shift at freddy's a little more interesting

warnings: 18+ MDNI, coworker!reader, smut, pwp, overstimulation, edging, blowjob, extremely rough oral, throatpie, fwb

word count: 1.9k

(based on these two requests, tysm for sending them in!)

"Thank you. God, thank you so fucking much."

You can't respond to him with your mouth as full as it is, but he picks up the acknowledgment in your next extra-hard suck. He probably wouldn't have heard you anyway, not with how loud he's gotten over the last half hour.

Should you both be working right now? Yes. Could something go terribly wrong because you're too busy blowing your coworker to watch the security monitors? Oh, absolutely.

But when his curly mop of hair appeared at the edge of the doorway midway through your shift, you knew you'd end up doing whatever he asked you to. It might just be your fatal flaw—you can never say no to Mike Schmidt.

He buries his fingers in your hair, tensing but not tugging, as you steadily work him the way you know he likes. He's surprisingly gentle for someone so eager to get his cock in your mouth every night, but you figure there's not much else to do during a midnight to 6 a.m. security gig at a closed-down pizzeria no one gives a shit about anymore.

Plus, you like doing it. You like him. It's cute how unashamed and unapologetic he is about how badly he wants you, and he makes you feel so good, you've never even thought about turning him down.

Even on nights when he just needs a quick release to ease the boredom or relax him enough to squeeze in a nap, just the taste and weight of him on your tongue has you soaking right through your panties. And he always makes it up to you.

But you're bored tonight, too. With three hours left to go, you'd been sitting in your shitty folding chair wondering how the hell you were going to stay awake and pass the time when Mike offered you an enticing solution. Except, you're still feeling antsy, and you don't want this to be over as fast as it usually is. Tonight, you want to play a little longer.

You pull off of him with a lewd pop and jerk him off languidly, loosening your grip to stave off his quickly approaching orgasm.

"That feel good?" you ask breathily, inhaling a lungful of air after letting him rut into the inside of your cheek for the past ten minutes. His fingers twitch against your scalp as he nods.

"S'good, feels so good," he slurs, his head tipped back as he bucks off the chair and into your fist.

"You want more?" You start to twist your wrist whenever you get close to the tip, and you can see and feel the shudder that wracks through him.

"Yes, god, yes. Please," he pleads, just short of begging.

"More what?" you goad experimentally. It wasn't your intention to make him beg when he walked into your office asking for help, but now you don't want him to stop.

"Y-your mouth," his head lolls forward, and he bites his lip hard at the sight of you licking away the precum streaming from his tip.

"Deeper, can I—," he tries to ask, but you shift to tease the underside of his head, and he chokes out a groan. "Wanna fuck your throat so bad."

"Are you gonna cum if I let you?"

"Fuck, probably," he admits reluctantly.

"Then, pick something else," you give him a teasing smile, a little charmed by his honesty.

Continuing to stroke him, you duck down to press a wet kiss to the base of his cock, then surprise him by sucking one of his balls into your mouth.

"Jesus, fuck," he gasps, leaking more precum that dribbles onto your cheek as you alternate between harder suction and softer swipes of your tongue.

He tastes salty and heady, and you were right. You're wet as fuck and so tempted to shove your other hand down your pants to toy with your clit, but you know he'll do that later. And you're not even close to being done with him yet.

Your grip tightens as you pick up your pace and focus closer to the head, maintaining eye contact that seems like it's setting him off just as much as your mouth or hand. His whole body vibrates with those telltale whimpers, and he finally starts to tug at your hair.

"M'gonna cum. Shit, keep going, I'm gonna cum," he grits out, his chest heaving.

His eyebrows pinch and his lips part, and he looks like he's seconds away from blowing his load all over your face—but then you release him again. You slide your hand under his shirt to stroke his heated skin comfortingly as he squeezes his eyes shut, panting like he just ran a marathon.

"Shit...shit," he keens, and you can feel his abs tensing and relaxing under your palm. His cock jerks pathetically next to your face, and you grip the base to make sure he doesn't accidentally topple over the edge.

"Shit," he whines again frustratedly, half-heartedly trying to pry your fingers off him. "Why?"

You rest your head against his thigh and smile, watching him pout down at you. He really is so cute when he gets fussy like this.

"You really wanna cum that fast? What happened to wanting to fuck my throat?" you tease him, beginning to jerk him off again. He sighs in relief, and his hips jut forward to meet your hand on every downstroke.

"You already said no," he replies dejectedly.

"I said not yet," you correct. "If you give me one more, I'll let you do whatever you want."

He eyes you curiously like he thinks you're baiting him, and you guess in a way you are. By now, he knows you've been edging him on purpose, but he has nothing to lose and everything to gain if he accepts your deal. He knows you'll make him feel good no matter what.

"You can choke me," you continue, slurping messily around the tip. "You can be as rough as you want," you trail your lips down his spit-slick length to the base and lick a wide stripe back up, "and you can cum in my mouth, and I promise I'll swallow all of it."

He's nodding frantically before you can even finish, and his eagerness reminds you of a golden retriever.

"You're gonna be good?" you confirm.

"I'll be good, I'll be so good," he blurts out, his urgency slurring his words again.

"I know you will. Just one more time, I know you can handle it," you encourage him.

Then, you swallow him down without warning. He lets out something guttural and animalistic, both hands tensing to hold you in place, and you let him.

You never planned on making this easy, but you meant what you said. He can handle this. He can handle the tightness of your throat constricting around him, contracting intermittently to mimic how your pussy feels fluttering around him.

Or, at least, you hope he can. You feel his balls draw up dangerously under your chin, and when you peer up through your watery lashes, his eyes are starting to cross. That's not good.

Slowly but steadily, he nudges the back of your throat harder and harder until tears and drool are streaming down your cheeks and chin. He's mumbling incoherent strings of praise and curse words between drawn-out whines, but you can barely hear him over the wet sounds of your own gagging.

"Fuck, that's...good, that's so fucking good," he pants raggedly, picking up his brutal pace. It's like he's lost all control of his body, and all he can do is chase the high you've been denying him all night.

You gurgle around him, grasping his thighs to ground yourself against the force of his thrusts, and briefly contemplate trying to stop him. But it's too late and he's already too close. His face screws up, and then you know it's coming.

"I'm sorry—I'm...fuck, I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry. I can't—," he whimpers, fucking into his fist, "—m'gonna cum, I'm so close."

Moaning around him in response, you dig your nails into his skin, hoping the unexpected pain distracts him enough to keep him from cumming, but that only makes it worse. So, you let him.

The subtle vibration combined with the sharp bite of your nails sends him reeling. His expression goes completely lax, and then—

"I'm cumming...oh my god—," he all but sobs, burying himself as deep as you can take him.

You struggle to breathe through your nose as he empties down your throat, swallowing as much as you can, but you've been edging him for too long.

Viscous fluid leaks out of the corners of your mouth and down his cock, adding to the wet mess in his lap, and your harsh grasp on his thighs only seems to prolong his orgasm. After what feels like a lifetime, his whimpers taper into soft pants and he starts to rub soothing patterns into your scalp, an apology for his rough treatment.

You blearily meet his eyes, and they're glassy and unfocused, watching you reverently like he can't believe you just let him do something he's only ever seen in porn. And that you actually liked it. Shakily, he reaches out to thumb away the release dribbling down your chin, and you pull off of him briefly to suck it off his finger before returning to his cock.

That's why you do this night after night—that look right there. It's the awe and hunger that linger even after he's already thoroughly blissed out and softening in your grasp.

Except tonight, he's not. Mike is somehow still hard as a rock and thrusting weakly into your mouth, trembling like a leaf now that his aftershocks have subsided and the sensitivity is setting in.

Tentatively, you grip him at the base and swirl your tongue around the tip to gauge his reaction, and when he doesn't push you away, you take him further into your mouth. But on your next hard suck, his lips part and a violent shudder wracks his entire body, so you hesitate and pull off.

"Too much?" you wince, slowly uncurling your fingers from around his cock, but he shakes his head furiously.

"N-no, feels...so much," he says, dazed, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "Feels good. Can you keep going? Please."

His face is screwed up, as tense as the rest of him as he struggles with conflicting feelings of intense pleasure and pain, but he's not fighting it. He's actually enjoying it.

He flinches as you resume your movements, toying under the ridge with the tip of your thumb, and begins to squirm the longer you continue to play with him. A quick glance at the clock tells you there's still an hour and a half left of your shift—that's plenty of time.

In the four nights you've worked here, the security monitors haven't shown a single sign of activity and you doubt they're going to start now. Your gaze drops from his pained, yet hopeful expression to his twitching cock, and you make a decision.

You'll go as long as he wants. After all, you can never say no to Mike Schmidt.

"Mhm, whatever you want," you hum, then sink back onto him. He sighs gratefully, shivering at the sensation and your words, and verbalizes his gratitude repeatedly like a prayer.

"Thank you, thank you."

thanks for reading!

(dividers by @saradika-graphics)

[hyewka]

warnings. possibly unfaithful, switch!beomgyu, ex best friends, pull out method, drunk sex, not proofread

you’ve always felt big feelings towards beomgyu, after all he has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, its just never ever been lust, even as a teenage girl with rapidly changing hormones. you love beomgyu, but it was never romantic. and yet as much as it surprises you, in the moment, it feels so right. like this is exactly how its supposed to be. getting maniacally mounted by choi beomgyu in a bathroom with your sense overwhelmed with the soju and beer breath. yeah, that sounds about right.

you just hadn’t expected it to turn so sappy so quick, despite the alcohol in your systems.

“i missed you…i missed you, i missed you”

at some point, you would’ve guessed those repeated declarations would’ve faded into white noise had it been any other person—any other person but him. someone who’d you considered the most important being of your entire life, someone who you haven’t seen or heard from in two entire years when your entire relationship had consisted of seeing each other all the time, someone that you’ve also, terribly missed.

when you share the same sentiment, when you also feel the need to repeat it over and over again, the heartache you’ve felt and the utter devastating emptiness that you’ve lived with for so long now being satiated—the repetition doesn’t let the words turn into sounds of nothingness as it naturally would’ve. rather, it continues to ram against your skull every time he gasps and whines them. like it gains a deeper, more intimate meaning the more he whispers them against your neck, trailing his wet kisses along your jawline.

“what happened with him?”

it’s like he got worked up at his own question, gripping the plush of your ass so hard his nails painfully digs into your flesh, having you hiss. you don’t blame what you register as an involuntary response—your ex boyfriend was the sole reason for your fallout with beomgyu, it’s a sore subject to poke.

“we broke it off six—s-six months after.” after you and beomgyu fell out you would’ve said, but how can you when the prick’s practically ramming his cock in you.

“oh,” he groans speeding up his sloppy pace, finding more rhythm—all while wearing a dopey smile, the frown on his face returning to ecstasy. “why?”

“just didn’t work out.” you reply curtly, trying to move on from the topic of your ex. he lets you, humming contentedly.

there was a part deep inside him that urged him to be smug and petty with an i told you so, or get mad that you dumped him for a relationship so futile to your life, but he can’t find himself to do so as he gets lost further in the way your face contorts, reacting to each jerk of his hips. you’re perfect, he thinks to himself over and over again. you’re perfect.

he thinks he could cum right then and there.

but somethings on the tip of your tongue— in fact, the moment you had registered him inside your head when you went inside that damned karaoke room, you noticed the ring. you quickly dispelled your first thought—it doesn’t look like a ring for marriage, it looked far too casual for that.

but you had still eyed it practically the entire night curious if it held any meaning and you had so badly wanted to pry. then you finally concluded that beomgyu has always been into jewellery, rings no exception. an hour ago, you didn’t know why you were so curious of his relationship status. but now? now you’re being fucked. you have a reason, so you try to bite the bullet to satiate your curiosity. “what about you?” you choke out. however, your question immedietely evaporates from your head when he smashes his lips against yours again heaving.

you don’t question it, you melt into it, pulling him in closer to the point there’s absolutely no space between the two of you.

“missed you” he whines. it has you uncontrollably tumble out giggles between your smushed lips before he steals your breath away yet again. you feel like you’re on drugs, you’re so high off of the adrenaline you feel. never in a million years would you have expected the original deep set uncomfortable tension between the two of you three hours ago to turn into this. when you had been invited out to hang out with your old college friends to come in and be met with familiar faces—you just didn’t expect your joy to so quickly be replaced with suffocating dread when the most familiar looks you up and down.

you weren’t warned of his presence. and now you were crowded by it.

“i couldn’t,” you gasp, your hooded eyes flying open when he revisits a hickey, grazing his teeth. “i can’t, i can’t live without you. that’s what i’ve realized, i can’t do it.”

you nod over and over again along to his words, frankly out of it, rolling your hips pathetically in rhythm with his. “wh-what about you?” he asks, his vulnerablity on full on display. long gone was the confident, vulgarity that oozed out of him.

it turns you on so much, it’s wrong but it does—his teary eyes, imploring you to put him at ease as he drives his cock deep inside your cunt. it feels right, it feels natural to try it out with him. the moment your finger flick his nipples, beomgyu gives you an immediate, satisfactory reaction—a combination of a gasp and a shriek before his head just pathetically falls to bury his head into the junction of your shoulders.

“you’re sensitive,” you note, letting your fingers lightly lay against his chest. the faltering of his pace is extremely noticeable as he had been increasingly building up his pace. it gives you a rush of dopamine, enough of it to have you more confident with what you want.

“whyyy..why’d you touch..” his whines muffle into your skin.

you peel his head off your shoulder by a fist of his hair and for what feels to be the hundredth time this night, he knocks the breath out of you—he’s gorgeous. when you started making out earlier you had passively asked him to keep his glasses on, you didn’t expect him to make such an effort to keep them because it’s practically falling off the bridge of his nose, crooked and foggy. he looks like a perfect mess.

your ex boyfriend hated it—when you had introduced domming during sex it had immediately killed the mood even though he promised you afterwards that it totally wasn’t because of your risque play with his nipples. after a while, you believed him—you wanted to believe him so you tried to ease into it again, showing him some porn, he’d surely like it as much as you did. you were sorely mistaken. he didnt, he practically ridiculed you, basically implying you were a total freak. it’s one of the things that served as a catalyst for your eventual breakup.

but beomgyu, god, beomgyu.

he transcends even your wildest imagination—hes everything you’d wish to hear and more. when you experimentally let your finger twist his hard buds again as he attempts to pick up his rhythm he gurgles on his spit, moaning loud enough for you to completely lose it. he slows down again, almost completely stilling, looking like he’s about to sob with his face a shade of red and pink, as if hes asking you for mercy.

“what?” you slur, cocking your head. “who allowed you to stop? i was close.”

he shakes his head, bottom lip slightly wobbling, “i c-can’t. if you keep touching my-”

your groan cuts off his rant. “hurry up, my legs are starting to cramp up gyu.”

he flinches at your harshness, falling into a pout. it’s a habit that as long as you remember, had driven you up the wall. but right now, you can’t help but find the action adorable, in complete contrast to the dirty situation you’re in. “but what if i just…like, cum?”

you sigh, propping yourself up again, “when you feel it coming, pull out.” you say simply, which doesn’t seem to ease his mind but he doesn’t resist shaking his hips again. it isn’t long before he’s losing himself in you, slap of skin against skin no longer your concern, totally ignoring the semi public setting. the moment he feels like he has has the upper hand you do it again, playing with his nipples until you’re sure they’re pink and plump, sore.

he not once questions anything, which makes you feel so immensely comfortable. “he would’ve hated this,” you comment absentmindedly, more to yourself than beomgyu. you hadn’t even thought he picked up on it when suddenly he becomes a lot more vocal, moaning obnoxiously loud you would’ve definitely slapped him silly and hopped off his cock…had you not been completely trashed. your brain is turned off, only mustering up a wobbly smile as you drown in his outward display of pleasure. it makes you feel so powerful. he both exaggerates and at the same time actually fucking loses his sanity.

he says those words again, panting, eyes completely glazed over and mouth almost permanently hung open, his hand reaching down to shakily play with your clit, making you arch into his touch, absolutely out of breath. “can’t live without you,”

at that final declaration, you clench around his dick to which he immediately reacts, erratically fucking into you, having your tits jiggle lewdly. he thinks hes hypnotized, he thinks he would’ve probably just bust a nut inside you anyway, but he snaps out of it, getting a sense of clarity.

beomgyu's cock throbs one last time inside you, before he pulls out, giving his cock only one small pump before spurting his load, some of it landing on your stomach and legs, some dripping to the floor. he lets out a soft moan, his breath hot against your neck. after what you believe to be an eternity, your sweaty selves interwined with each other, wallowing in silence as you finally get your breathing controlled, beomgyu pulls away to look at you.

it’s like you truly are telepathically connected, something you’ve joked about for years due to the instance you’ve completed each other’s thoughts. but you’ve come to realize it might be closer to the truth than anything you’ve ever known to be true. your feelings were intertwined, scarily so.

so its to not to your surprise when he doesn’t ask for a round two, he knows. like he always does.

you just try to ignore the constant ringing of his phone.

[luveline]

missing eddie and roan rn🥲

can we get something were roan brings home flowers she picked during recess for reader🫶

Eddie and Roan —Eddie’s daughter brings you a bouquet when you’re sick. (step)mom!reader

Roan skips up the path to the house with a big smile. “Dad, come on!” she demands.

Eddie’s trying to carry three paper bags of groceries and close the trunk at the same time. He is not receptive to criticism at this present moment. “Shut up, babe.” 

“You shut up!” 

“You first.” He drops the keys by accident. “Ro, can you come and grab these for me? Thank you.”

She races to grab the keys and then back to the door. “Dad, COME ON!” 

“You’re being super rude and irate right now but I forgive you,” Eddie says, yanking the door open to let her inside, “because I know you’re hangry.” 

“Not hangry!” she denies, bursting into the hallway and kicking her shoes so hard against the shoe rack that the top layer of your work shoes topple onto the floor. “Mom!” she shouts, one word lined heavily with joy even now. She’s been calling you mom for months and it doesn’t get any less exciting for her, clearly. “Y/N! Y/N, I got you something! Where are you?” 

“I’m in bed!” you call, sounding excited yourself, if a little confused. “What did you get me?” 

Eddie wasn’t aware of any gifts. He puts the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and follows his charge up the stairs, curious and not wanting to put stuff away anyhow. Roan tumbles into the master bedroom still wearing her red vinyl coat, door slamming into the wall, you wincing in bed. 

Eddie winces too. “Ro,” he says desperately, “come on, bub, she’s in bed rest, remember? So we’re being careful about loud noises. I told you twice today already.” 

“Sorry! I just want to see you,” she says, straight to your side and arms up expecting to be helped. 

You pull her into your lap. “I’m sick of resting anyways.” 

Eddie intercepts Roan’s hug to lean down over you and give you a gentle kiss, of which you are extremely receptive. He gets butterflies thinking about you to this day, and having you raise your chin to receive him intensifies them by half, then whole as your lips do finally touch. 

“Okay day?” he asks. 

“Really quiet,” you say, tugging Roan up into your chest before she can get jealous. 

“Head?” he asks. 

“Fine. Barely a headache anymore.” 

Eddie bites his lip. Not too long ago you were in a hospital bed practically catatonic. He cannot afford to be uncareful with you. You’re too much to him. 

“Promise?” he asks. 

You’re distracted from answering by small hands on your face. “Mommy, I was talking to you first.” 

“Sorry, baby, yes you were.” You sink further down. “Can you ever forgive me?” 

Roan could forgive you for almost anything. She wiggles where she’s sitting on your stomach, hands clumsy at the bottom of her coats zipper, her chest rising and falling after her sprint up the stairs. Eddie and Roan are still both cold enough to have it emanating from their coats, but you don’t care, you just want your after school cuddle.

Eddie peels out of his coat at the same time, takes his shoes off with some self-chastisement (mud upstairs is awful and rude of him and he’ll spend the evening trying to rub it out of the rug because you really like the rug and he likes you), and sits on the bed by your feet. 

“Oh, what have you got?” you ask warmly. 

Eddie bends his head to watch her pull flowers from her overall pocket, one small stem at a time. Daisies and buttercups with petals smaller than her fingernails. They keep coming, ten then twenty, maybe thirty flowers on your chest. The stems are broken, but they’re all more alive than anyone could have hoped for considering they’d been sandwiched in her pocket for hours. 

“These are for me?” you ask. 

“All for you. Except this one for dad,” she says, picking up one of the bigger daisies. “And maybe this one for me.” She grabs a buttercup for herself. 

“Aw, thanks baby. These are gonna make me better, huh?” 

She looks like him when she smiles. Cheesy, cute, she arranges the flowers in a bouquet in her hand and presents it to you grandly. “I picked them at school behind the wooden house. Do you like ‘em?” 

“I love them,” you pronounce, just as grand but not half as loud. 

“I love you.” 

“You cheesball,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. 

“Ignore him.” You touch her cheek with a fondness that makes his jaw ache thinking about the love behind it. “I love you too.” 

“And you’ll be better soon,” Roan says. 

Eddie can answer that one. He holds your ankle through the sheets, and gives your calf a quick stroke. “She’s gonna be a hundred percent any day now, bug. Better be extra gentle with her to help her along.” 

Roan rubs her bouquet of flowers softly under your chin. “I’m gentle,” she whispers. 

You rake your fingers through her hair, a half centimetre a second, fingertips drawing down between her shoulders. Such a mom thing to do, Roan dissolves like sugar paper in the rain. 

Eddie smiles. “Alright, I’m jealous.”

[mxnbi]

Sweet as honey

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ────────────────────

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Boyfriend!Kaldo Gehenna X Reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SYNOPSIS He couldn’t resist that sweet taste of honey on your lips. He had to have you then and there, even if it means doing it on school grounds

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ CW: public sex, sex on school grounds, a little bit of food play, sex in uniform, fem! reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ tags: mashle mashle magic and muscle kaldo kaldo gehenna kaldo x reader fem reader mashle smut mashle fanfic mashle oneshot kaldo one shor kaldo smut kaldo fanfic divine visionary anime manga honey food play school sex

21+ nsfw smut, minors DNI

Yet another day at Easton Magic Academy. Juggling potion classes, flying classes and the upcoming Divine Visionary selection exam has you pulling at your hair every day and night.

Wanting to destress a bit, you decided to go on a stroll around the school campus. Roaming up and down the hallways while you munch on some honey dipped pretzels.

You did a double take when you noticed your boyfriend, Kaldo, exiting an office right up ahead.

“Kaldo! What brings you here? You rarely come back.”

Your joyful voice echoed slightly through out the empty hall as you ran toward the tall man. Your body could barely contain the excitement from the rare sight of your boyfriend on campus.

Kaldo’s slender arms wrapped around your waist in a warm and welcoming hug after watching you practically float in his direction. He pressed a tender kiss against your forehead as he rocked you side to side lovingly.

“Hey honey. The school summoned us Divine Visionaries to investigate a student with no magic here. He’s quite the case as far as I’ve-“

He paused mid sentence, pulling away from you and sniffing the air like theres a gas leak in the building.

You looked up at him in confusion, all while still snacking on your pretzels. The crunch that came with each bite caught Kaldo’s attention.

He glanced at the snacks in your hand and a saucer of honey floating right next to you. He leaned down to eye level with you and pressed his lips against yours, giving them a quick lick.

You stood rooted to the ground, stunned by his unexpected display of affection, dropping a half eaten pretzel.

“I’ve been spending the past weekend looking for foods and dishes that go well with honey, but I never knew how good it could taste on your lips.”

Kaldo pulled back, looking into your eyes with lust filled in his. He quickly grabbed your hand before pulling you into the office that he came out of, not forgetting to lock the door right behind him.

Before you could even utter a word, he has his lips on yours, a hand on your waist and the other on the back of your head to guide you into the kiss gently.

He licked your lips, tasting the sweet nectar left over from your snacks that were now residing somewhere on the floor.

You could do nothing except melt into his arms, your feet floating off the floor and wrapping around his waist while he lifts you off the ground with minimal effort.

You were always aware of his love for honey, but him being away so often made you forget how much you could turn him on, even just by having a light snack.

Kaldo carries you over to a desk, pushing off random documents to floor and settling himself between your legs before undoing his sword to set aside.

“W-wait wait, who’s office is this? This could get you in so much trouble!”

You whispered in a panic, afraid that you’ll be the reason why he loses his prestigious rank that he worked so hard for. He laughs softly at your alarmed state, secretly creeping a hand up your thighs from under your skirt.

Kaldo undid his jacket and pants with one hand while the other rests on your hips. He looked at you assuringly, flashing you that sweet but oh so cunning smile that you know him for.

“Who could possibly get me in trouble?”

That was the last thing said before he pushed your skirt up and slid into you.

You screamed at sudden insertion, unprepared for the stretch that he gave you. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth as you looked at Kaldo wide eyed, only to be returned with that same cunning smile.

He steadies himself again, a hand on your hip as he slowly thrusted into your wet pussy.

Your legs tightened around him from the pleasure, trying to keep the volume down as much as possible, but boy does Kaldo make that hard for you to do.

He locked lips with you once again, his tongue searching around your mouth and lips for any remnants of that sweet syrup, all while fucking into your cervix.

“Mmngh fuck…slow d-down I can’t…keep quiet..”

You begged, hoping that he would understand the severity of getting caught while committing such an indecent act on school grounds. But it’s clear that it was not his priority in the moment.

Kaldo leaned down to nibble at your ear, and down to your neck. Leaving a small trail of love bites that made his throbbing cock twitch inside of you.

“They can deal with me then, think only about us now.”

Using his teeth, he swiftly removed his left glove and dipped two fingers in whatever honey remained in that little saucer.

“Open up honey.”

That was all he needed to say. You complied without a second thought and opened your mouth while sticking out your tongue.

He brought his fingers up for you to suck, moaning as he watched your cheeks hollow around his two digits with a tiny amount of honey dripping onto your chin and making its way down to your chest.

“Well we can’t have your precious uniform get dirty can we? Honey is not easy to clean.”

Kaldo then made quick work of your button and tie, freeing your perky tits and watching them bounce up and down with each thrust.

He bit his lip, holding back a whimper as he watched the honey slowly make its way down to your chest and in between your cleavage. He could almost come inside of you then and there.

He fucked you harder and faster, pounding into your pussy and watching your face contort in pure pleasure.

Kaldo bent down to kiss and lick up the sticky honey off of your chest while his right hand plays with your tit.

You threw your head back in pleasure, legs dangling in the air, shaking as he plunged his cock deeper and deeper into you.

“Mmm.. two of my favourite things in one…how could I ask f-for more.”

He whimpered quietly, looking down at where you two are connected as he pumped his dick in and out of you.

You felt your tummy tighten, but before you could say anything about you cumming, Kaldo abruptly pulled out of you. Giving you a quick peck on the lips before forecfully flipping you over with your stomach and chest pressed up on the table.

His hand caress your butt while he further pushes your skirt up and aligns his blunt tip at the entrance of your hole.

“Let’s make this quick okay honey, someone’s going to be using this room soon.”

You looked back at him, watching him sigh out in pleasure as he pushed into you again like he could never get sick of this sensation.

Both palms on your waist now, finger nails leaving marks in your skin, he drives his cock into you faster than before, almost forcing another moan out of you.

You grabbed the edge of the table, hoping to steady yourself from his intense pounding, but to no avail as Kaldo got the whole table shaking back and forth with his thrusts now.

“Mmmngh I-I need to come back..more often now..”

Kaldo mustered out a sentence between moans and whimpers, thrusts now becoming messier and messier.

You clawed at the table. The way his cock tip grazes your G spot drives you absolutely insane. You missed having fuck sessions like this whenever Kaldo’s away. He’s just something your fingers can’t replace.

That familar knot in your belly was starting to form again, and that’s when your legs start to lose it’s strength.

“A-ahh fuck..Kaldo I’m-ngh.. c-cumming.”

And with that, Kaldo went faster, harder, and deeper. Leaning over your body while supporting himself with a hand on the table to get a better angle. One that would snip that knot and made you cum all over his cock.

You moaned into your elbow, facing down into the table in an attempt to muffle any lewd noises that could be possibly be heard.

“Ahh~ K-kaldo…oh my god.”

Hearing you moan his name was like sweet honey to him. One last thrust and he was filling you up to the brim with his warm cum.

Sweat dripped down his temples and neck as Kaldo tried to regain his composure, slowly pulling out of you to watch his thick cum slowly ooze out of your cunt and down to the floor, just like glistening honey.

He pulled you up gently by your shoulders, bringing you into a warm embrace as he buries his nose into the nook of your neck.

“Would you mind stopping by my room? There’s a lot more I’ve been wanting to show you.”

Oh boy were you going to be busy that night.

A/N: RAHHHH FINALLY SOME MASHLE CONTENT im honestly so in love w the show and the characters. Im so happy to finally write smth about my boy kaldo but i hope to expand my territory to include the other men too hehehehe

[genshin-obsessed]

Can you do a Honkai Star Rail vampire au with Dang Heng, Blade, Caelus, and Jing Yuan? Pwetty pwease?

Ooh you know I don’t think I’ve done these for hsr yet o: I’m just doing general hcs but lemme know if you want something specific 💕

✩ Caelus

He’s still new to all this, maybe about five or so years. It’s definitely a work in progress for him. The incident of being turned still haunts him.

He does need to drink more often than the older ones. About four times a week. His urges are still pretty strong and he needs to be locked up on some nights.

When he started dating you, it was fine. He didn’t tell you immediately, duh, and managed to keep it a secret for a while. While he felt guilty, he didn’t know how to tell you.

Well, lucky for him— or unlucky— he ended up biting you accidentally. It was the cliche situation where you cut your hand and he just lost it. Thankfully, he didn’t hurt you too much. He bit a little hard and left a bruise though.

Your blood is by far his favorite. Most likely due to his attraction to you. He doesn’t deny it and will ask on very rare occasions to have your blood. He actually finds it satiates him longer than animal blood.

✩ Dan Heng

Much older compared to Caelus. He was actually born one so he wasn't turned. Apparently, he was turned a few lifetimes ago or something.

While he is older, he’s a more hungry vampire. Instead of feeding twice a week like most of his age, he still feeds four nights a week. He does find he needs less though, like one glass instead of a liter or so. While the urge is there it isn’t super strong except on extremely rare nights.

He didn’t have a hard time concealing his identity when he began dating you. He didn’t think it was safe for you to know at the time.

The way you found out was you decided to surprise him at his place and when you snuck in, you saw him drinking the actual blood. He tried to play it off but you weren’t buying it.

The first time he drank from you was at your request. He never asked if he could have your blood, unsure of how you’d take it. Lucky for him, you offered.

Your blood is so much sweeter and more savory than anything he’s had before and it’s genuinely ruined other blood for him. Animal blood? Might as well be spoiled milk.

✩ Jing Yuan

The oldest out of all of them. He turned so long ago he barely remembers any details. He just knows that it was a friend of his... who wasn't really a friend.

His urges are a lot easier for him to control at this age. He's seen many people bleed a lot and hasn't really lost control. Did plenty when he was younger. He feeds about once a week, he can push it out to two weeks, he'll need more blood. He's extremely careful NOT to go hungry for too long, he doesn't want to accidentally hurt someone.

He doesn't have a hard time hiding this from anyone. He can go out into the sun just fine, but not for too long and he's not constantly hungry.

You found out later in the relationship when he felt comfortable revealing it to you. Thankfully, you weren't too upset with him as it's not a secret he can just tell anyone. Though, any anger sent his way would've been accepted graciously as he did still lie.

The first time he drank from you was your own request. Jing Yuan knows the seriousness of drinking straight from the source, especially with someone he adores so much. Weird things tend to happen. While he can't turn you, there's other... things to be wary of. He does love your blood, it's so good, but he limits himself to once a month, maybe twice if you really want to.

✩ Bladie

He's still a fairly younger vampire but there's a little caveat with him that most don't have. Blade didn't turn properly which leads to several challenges. He remembers exactly who turned him and when as he had been mortally wounded and his friend was desperate to save him.

While he's done a great job controlling his urges, they will hit at the absolute worst times. Namely when he's around you. Everything's gonna be fine, he's been keeping his drinking schedule and boom, you enter the room. It's like his entire body goes into panic mode and he usually just rushes past you without so much as an explanation.

Hiding it is very difficult, actually. So, the others already know. They're the ones who supply Bladie with blood and make sure that he always has enough.

You found out when everyone else did. You just don't know that you're the one who makes his urges go haywire all the time. Bladie doesn't know why and Kafka keeps saying it has to do with something as cliche as feelings.

Well, damn those stupid feelings because one day you insisted on talking to him. The urges hit him, you refused to leave, he was yelling at you, then you were pinned on his bed with him drinking from you.

Bladie won't admit it... but your blood is 100% better than everything else he's ever had. Silver Wolf did gift him human blood as a joke and he did finish it that night but you? Whole different story.

[alchemistc]

So about that deleted scene:

(shovel) talks - read on ao3

"So how many shovel talks should I be expecting?" Tommy asks, once the cake is mostly gone and Eddie and Christopher have wandered off. He tilts his voice low, so as not to draw the attention of Eddie's aunt, who has been eyeing him closely since he came back without any cake for Evan.

"Shovel what?" Evan's eyeing the cake.

"You could just have a bite," Tommy tempts, letting his grin go a little teasing, waving his fork a bit for emphasis, and Evan sighs. Pats his stomach, which Tommy is intimately familiar with, and very fond of, even if Evan wants to be a bit more cut.

"You're trying to deflect. Who gave you a shovel talk?"

"So far?" There's no reason to keep it going, really, except when Evan gets exasperated he huffs and puffs about it and Tommy - he doesn't not like his little attempts at dramatics.

Evan rolls his whole head in an effort to emphasize how much he's not in the mood, but his smile gives him away. It always does.

"Well, Hen and Karen just accosted me. Christopher's already promised anatomically improbable harm."

Evan, if anything, looks a little chuffed about that. Considering some of the things he's gleaned about his home life growing up, it's not all that strange.

Still, it doesn't hurt to ask. "They do know you're an adult, right?"

"Y-yeah, of course they know. It's - you know, that whole family thing you were so jealous of sometimes includes them being a little overbearing."

"Personally, I think they were just looking for some gossip."

Evan's face goes red. "Uh - that might be - that might be my fault. I'm... usually an over sharer."

"Is there something wrong with what I'm doing that you don't feel like over sharing?" It's a dirty ploy, but he's already over invested in this, in them. He wants to weasel a bit of praise out of Evan, even though he hasn't exactly been shy about it to this point at all.

Evan's face does something - a series of tiny expressions he'd have been hard pressed to catch if he weren't staring so closely - before he kicks at Tommy's foot under the table. "You're teasing me again."

Tommy doesn't hide his grin, even as he shovels his fork around the plate to get the last of the frosting off. "Can you blame me?"

Evan's blush is deep deep pink, but he still bites his tongue, tilts his head, tips his foot so that he can slide his toes around Tommy's ankle. He really, really wasn't kidding when he joked that he was trying his best to keep up.

He taps two knuckles against the table, looking like he's physically restraining himself from reaching for Tommy's hand. "It's - it's not like I don't talk about you. I just - some of it I wanna keep for myself."

Tommy fields fifty questions a day at work about the man who has him smiling to himself randomly, checking his phone and losing track of conversations because something ticks at a newly made memory of Evan Buckley. He understands the urge to keep some of those memories for himself.

"So what have you told them?"

He's picking at the thread, trying to unravel it, and he doesn't know why. He's more than satisfied with the state of things as they are now. Things are... different than he's used to, this early in. He's never been with someone so intent on getting to know him, spending time with him, so ready to share himself. It's intoxicating, really, and Tommy's never had a great handle on when to cut himself off.

Evan's expression is overly fond, and Tommy feels the thrill of it down to his toes.

"I told them about our date at the aquarium," he says, eyes sparkling a little. It had been a spur of the moment thing, Evan texting him for three days straight about hammerhead sharks, Frederickson mentioning his son-in-laws obsession with manta rays and the glass-side dinner they offered Saturday's and Sunday's. Evan's eyes drifting to the creatures in the water only half-as-often as they drifted to Tommy, and the air expanding in Tommy's lungs every time that smile landed on him.

Tommy hums.

"I told them a... very abridged version of you trying to teach me Muay Thai."

Evan, gleaming and wide eyed, pinned beneath Tommy, his hands giving up any pretense of doing anything but bracketing Tommy's hips, the gentling kiss Tommy'd placed to the birthmark over his eye before Evan whined and Tommy decided he was done playing games.

"Well, now Hen thinks I lied to her." Tommy jokes, and Evan's brow jumps quizzically. Tommy can't quite help it. Even with Gerrard here, even with eyes around them, even though they'd both decided together to keep the contact to a minimum, this being a work event and all - he reaches out and taps his finger to Evan's nose just to see his face crinkle in confusion. It'll have to do, with friends and family and colleagues all around them, but he can feel the urge to drag him in, to give Evan a taste of the frosting still on his lips, to press their bodies together and feel Evan's heart beat beneath his. The desire is there, crawling beneath his skin, and Evan watches him lean back in his chair like he knows every spare thought rattling around in Tommy's head.

"I told them you make me stupid happy," Evan says, all bright and sincere, something softening around the edges of his eyes, and the cage around his heart strains under the pressure of the muscle pressing for freedom.

Tommy darts a look around the room. Things are winding down, families with children drifting off early to enjoy having the day off, members of the 118 returning to their duties now that they've been thrown back on the dispatch register, higher ups huddled off in groups whispering to themselves about how they all would have been fired if Chief Simpson wasn't gunning for a promotion. Evan tips forward, chin dropping to the bridge of his hands with a grin.

"What do you tell the Harbor people about me?"

"Oh, absolutely nothing," Tommy says, standing, tilting a hip sideways so that he can hide the thumb the presses to the divot of Evan's chin. "If I did they'd think you'd bewitched me."

Evan's smile curls over his cheeks with the dopey expression Tommy's grown to adore.

"Let's get out of here before we get recruited for cleanup."

Evan looks like he's thinking about staying, anyway, so Tommy sweetens the deal. "I told Hen and Karen you were setting the pace. Are you gonna make a liar out of me again?"

Evan barely waits until they're out of sight before he's got two hands bracketing Tommy's hips from behind. Tommy knows he's staring at his ass - can't quite blame him. He works hard on making it look good in dress blues.

They manage to make it to the far side of Tommy's truck before Evan spins him, presses him to the passenger door before Tommy can get it open for him. "When we get home," he starts, too busy pressing his tongue to Tommy's pulse point to notice Tommy's quiet inhale at the phrasing. "I'm gonna take this uniform off of you, piece by piece, and then I'm gonna blow you so good you see stars."

"We should both wear our hats," Tommy negotiates, hoping to keep it light enough that he won't hone in on 'home'.

"The medals can stay too," Evan says, and sucks a bruise into the side of Tommy's neck when Tommy tilts his head back to laugh.

[nanivinsmoke]

Spring break

Geto x Gojo x F!Reader

oh yall already know this gone be some freak nasty shit! these two fuckers in one fic with each other? oh yeah, you might as well submit. enjoy~!

summary ~ it’s spring break, time to have fun and unwind, and to get stuffed….

warnings and tags ~ fingering, overstimulation, car sex (fingering only), squirting, multiple orgasms, public sex, blow job (rough), creampie (mouth) jealousy, friends with benefits, part two will have so much more~.

words ~ 2.6k

twelve days. twelve whole days you’ll be with the two of them.

originally there were going to be six of you, but everybody bailed last minute; except those two. you were upset that not everyone was coming, but you were glad you were at least going to be with your two best friends. you needed this vacation, you needed to destress and keep your mind off work. you were here to have fun, and nothing was going to ruin it.

the three of you were packed into the black comfortable suv that geto rented, with you in the passenger seat, gojo in the back sleeping and geto driving. the drive to your vacation spot was long and every three hours you guys would rotate, so the each of you would have driven and the other two could rest.

but, you couldn’t sleep and it was all thanks to him. his thick finger pumped in and out of your sopping wet pussy, while keeping his eyes on the road. your shorts, along with your panties, were slightly pulled down to give him better access to your warm cunt, your slick dripping onto the car’s crème brule colored seat. soft moans escaping your plump lips as he curled his fingers, rubbing against your spot.

“shhh, we don’t want you waking him up in the back. wouldn’t want him to catch me playing with this sweet pussy, now would we?~” his voice low and deep, pinching your swollen clit, glancing at you from his peripheral. you shook your head and placed your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“good girl. now, cum for daddy~” he pushed his fingers back inside of you, pumping hard and fast; guiding you to your orgasm. and you came hard too, biting your hand to stop the loud moan that escaped your throat. he slowly continued to finger your cunt, before pulling out—leaving you breathless and drained while he licked your sweet cum from his fingers.

you sat in your seat, in a orgasmic daze—trying to catch your breath, while gojo began to stir in his sleep. his crystal blue eyes opened and he sat up with a yawn, making geto look in the rear view mirror. “gps says we should be there in ten minutes,” he spoke like read his mind, glancing at you with a smirk etched on his face.

you knew that in those ten minutes that you were fucked.

———

the house the three of you rented was huge, it had three big bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms, a huge infinity pool, a jacuzzi on the deck, a movie room and a bar in the basement. these twelve days were going to be memorable.

dropping your suitcase and luggage down into the bedroom you picked out, you plopped on the soft king sized bed—face deep into the pillows, mind still clouded with thoughts of geto and you in the car. just the thought of gojo catching the both of you, had you pressing your legs together as that familiar throbbing sensation reappeared.

what would gojo do? what would he say if he saw his best friend getting finger fucked by his other best friend? would he join in? make geto pull the car over so they could stuff you with their cocks?

before you know it, your hands have found their way into your shorts; rubbing your sensitive clit and dipping into your wet hole. with your eyes being closed, you didn’t see the spiky haired white male appear in your room; amused to see you playing with yourself, but shocked to hear you moan his and geto’s name. he softly closes the door behind him, startling you.

“so what I saw in the car, wasn’t my imagination? im a little jealous you let geto of all people play with that pretty pussy.” so he did see everything. you said nothing and only kept your eyes on him, a little shy that you were caught playing with yourself. a smirked eased onto his face as he sat on the bed in front of your spread legs, eyes dropping to your clothed cunt, then back up to your eyes.

“idiot only let you cum once too. no wonder you want more.” his eyes low and lidded, his hands softly tracing your bare thigh, sending flutters to your pussy. his hands slowly make its way to the middle of your shorts, rubbing the area where your clit hid underneath. you let out a breath of air, amazed at how easily he found your clit, pressing on it hard enough where it sent shivers up your spine.

“let me teach you how many times a woman should cum,” he unbuttoned your shorts, pulling them down with your help and tossed them to the other side of the room.

a whistle left his mouth and he smirked, “whew, you’ve been waiting for this? so wet for me already~” his hands rubbed on the outline of your puffy lips, the deep stain of your slick that soiled your panties—stuck against the tips of his fingers. “gojo~” you whined, wanting him to stop teasing and push his fingers inside—or to put something else in.

a chuckle escaped his lips, “so needy for me~.” he pulled the soaked fabric aside, your puffy lips glistening from your slick. he took a second to admire how pretty your cunt looked, before his lips attached to your clit—sucking and swirling his tongue on it. your hands immediately latched onto his winter white locks, pushing him deeper into your cunt.

he mumbled against your wetness, the vibrations made your clit throb while moans spilled from your plump lips. he pushed two of his long fingers into your aching hole, causing you to gasp. “oh fuck gojo!” you moaned loudly, making him detach from your clit— slick all over his lips. “want geto to hear your slut noises? want him to come in here and catch me two—three fingers deep inside of you?” he pushed another finger inside of you, stretching your hole.

you wanted to scream from the sensation, his long digits rubbing against your spot with each pump—your cunt clenching around him crazily. “did you just get wetter from that? so fucking nasty” he reattached his lips to your clit, pumping inside of you faster. that ball in your stomach was getting bigger by the second and you so desperately wanted to cum—no needed to cum for him.

“so close, g’na cum for you” you breathe out, rotating your hips against his lips. he began to swirl his tongue in a different manner—shivers and jolts of excitement being sent up your spine. and by the time you realized he was spelling his name on your clit, that ball exploded inside of you—with you coming undone underneath him.

he slurped and sucked, fingers still pumping inside of you, making sure that he didn’t waste not one drop of your sweet cum—pulling away with a trail of slick following him. “mhm, only got to the letter ‘u’. don’t get too comfortable now, sweetheart” gojo didn’t even let you recuperate before he slid you between his legs, his boner pressing into the top of your ass.

you tried to reach around to palm him through his pants, but he stopped you—looking down at you with a smirk. “not yet, princess. not until i get you to cum until you can’t anymore.” his words caused you to gulp and you looked away from his hypnotizing eyes, looking at his big hands that hovered over your mound.

“which feels better. one—“ he circles your clit with two fingers and pinches your nipple with the other hand, a mewl leaving your lips, before continuing. “—or two” he moves his hands from your clit and pushes them back into your cunt, arousal immediately coating his fingers. you rock your hips into his hand, wanting—no needing more. and when he didn’t hear your answer, he removed his fingers, making you whine in response.

“let daddy know which one feels better, princess. now one or two” he repeated himself, this time he curled his fingers on the second one, while his palm sat on your clit; adding pressure to it. “two! oh my god, two~.” he chuckled and began pumping his thick fingers in and out of your sloppy, wet cunt—his palm rubbing on your clit adding double pleasure for you.

the sounds of your moans and your sex squelching, echoed throughout the room. he was pumping in and out of you like a madman, hitting your spot each time. and you were getting close, so so close. “cum all over daddy’s fingers. let daddy feel how that pretty pussy cum’s for him, kay’?” you nodded your head, pussy clenching around his fingers rapidly before you let go once again.

his fingers didn’t move from your cunt, no matter how much you squeezed your legs together. “can’t. too much—please, satoru~” you whimpered, looking at the sloppy mess you were making—slick mixed with your cream staining the sheets underneath you. “one more baby, cum for me just one more time. daddy wants to see you cum for him, one more time~”

fuck, it was so easy to listen to every word he said. you wanted to obey him. to cum for him on his command. to let him see how messy you were. to see how much you wanted him to fuck you senseless in the mattress. he pumped inside you faster, rotating his fingers around—stretching you more and more. his palm, now covered in your slick, continued to rub on your clit.

your walls squeezed around his fingers, with you cumming harder than the last. this time it was more intense—a clear stream of your fluid flowing out, dampening the bed even more. “yes, that’s it baby. that’s what daddy wanted, good girl” his pace quickened and you could feel yourself going insane as he drained you.

your body jolted and convulsed as you released, even when nothing came out. eyes rolled back and hands gripping onto the bed. you didn’t even notice that satoru left your room, leaving you to sit in the puddle of your cum.

———

day two.

you were trying so hard to be quiet, so the two of you wouldn’t get caught by the store’s workers. but, how could you when his tongue was so deep in your pussy, licking every crevice and teasing your gummy walls. you grinded again his chisled face, hands getting tangled in his sleek raven hair, tugging it as his lips sucked on your swollen clit.

the two of you decided to explore the town’s shopping district, stopping in a cute clothing store when you were ogling at this cute dress in the window. and when geto snuck into your dressing room, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

“cumming for you—suguru!” you whined when he pulled you off of his mouth, cutting your orgasm short. he smirked and got up from the dressing room’s soft bench, licking up your slick that covered his mouth. “this was your punishment, baby. I knew what you and gojo were doing yesterday.” you bit your lip, avoiding his intimidating gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you immediately regretted the lie that flew out of your mouth, knowing that there was consequences to follow. he reached around and made you face him, brown eyes dark and lidded as he stared at you. “not only did you let him touch what’s mine, but you lied about it too? tch, g’na have to—punish—you!”

he pushed you down onto his lap, hand colliding with your ass causing you to yelp out. he sent another smack to your ass, in the same spot, this time a moan came out instead. “suguru, please~” you begged, earning another smack to your fat ass—another yelp followed after—making him hit your ass harder than before. you had to bite your lip hard to stop the scream that desperately wanted to be let out.

“see you have a problem with shutting up. gonna have to shut you the fuck up,” he pulled you back by your hair, unzipping his pants with one hand, making his cock springing to life. it was so fat and pretty. tip a nice shade of red, leaking with his precum. mouth drooling at the sight, your plump lips immediately latched onto it—welcoming him right into your warm mouth. he sucked in some air, loving the tightness of your mouth—almost forgetting this was a punishment.

he pushed your head down, bucking his hips upwards, his cock now deep into your mouth—touching the beginning of your throat. your eyes widened at the sudden force, tears brimming your eyes as he begun to fuck your mouth. so much spit coated his dick, dribbling out the corners of your mouth and onto his pants. it was so, so, so messy, yet you couldn’t help but want more.

the more he pounded your sweet little mouth, stretching it with each thrust, you got used to him—taking more of him each time. you were getting more aroused by the second, slick dripping from your lonely cunt—down your thick thighs. his cock was so addicting, you couldn’t get enough of the taste nor the smell of his balls, getting a whiff each time his cum filled balls met your nose.

geto’s eyes rolled back and his mouth was gaped open, low grunts leaving his mouth as his cock explored your mouth, the softness of it made him want to fuck you harder—deeper— he wanted to break your mouth and stuff it full of his hot load. his hand landed on your ass again, the fat rippling from the impact, making you moan against his cock— vibrating against his shaft.

he was so lost in the essence of your mouth, that he completely forgot where he was at until a knock was heard, causing his coffee colored eyes to pop open.

“uh, we’re about close soon. could you please hurry up?” a man spoke on the other side of the door. you had

“give me—shit—a second~” he grunted, looking down at you with pure arousal as you fondled his balls that was coated in your saliva.

“sir! I need you to hur—“

“i said give me a fucking second— shit, g’na cum, drink my fucking cum, slut~” geto yelled at the man, cutting him off mid sentence and making the male leave, while he thrusted in your mouth faster. his hot—thick load pooled into your mouth, coating the inside of your cheeks white. you gave his balls a squeeze, hoping to empty them out as you swallowed his cum. the warmness from it spilling down your throat, making you squirt—splashing onto the mirror behind you and the dress you were looking at before, staining it.

he pulled out of you with a pop sound following, spit and his left over cum trailing from your mouth which you happily slurped back up with a smile on your face. he reached over and grabbed you by the jaw, cheeks puffing up as he stared at you before he pressed his lips into yours, tasting himself when his tongue entered yours.

“fuck. i need to get you back to the house, i want to fuck that little throat some more~”

the two of you quickly got dressed and left the dressing room, bumping into the male worker on the way out and throwing a wad of money at him.

“i don’t get paid enough for this shit”

[azrielbrainrot]

You Take Me Higher

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: What happens when you run into Azriel at a bar after a long mission?

Warnings: Smut, Public Sex

Word Count: 4220

Rating: 18+

Notes: This is basically pwp except it's part of a new universe I'm working on. Still, you can read this as a standalone since there's no actual plot here. I just felt like writing mindless smut since "She Laughs Like You" is so plot heavy. Hope you enjoy <3

Spy!Reader Masterlist

You normally don't come to Rita's, preferring calmer bars to the loud and suffocating club, it's too much of an assault to your senses. But your friends had invited you enough times for you to accept, not wanting to turn them down again. You hadn't seen them in a while after a particularly long mission outside of the Night Court so it was nice to catch up with them even if it meant dealing with the headache that always follows your trips here.

You'd seen the High Lord and his Inner Circle as soon as you arrived. Their commanding presence allowing your eyes to find them immediately among the rest of the club goers. Upon seeing them, seeing him, you almost regretted coming out, not knowing how to act around him outside of work or your escapades and definitely not wanting to do it in front of so many people.

You decide on a simple wave, nodding discreetly at him and the rest of his family, turning your attention back to your now gushing friends after they wave back politely, making sure you didn't linger on his hazel eyes or the unbuttoned silk shirt, keeping up with the “friendly acquaintances” narrative you've crafted for yourselves. Intending on keeping away from him for the rest of the night.

Azriel seemed to have a different idea as he signaled for you to follow him not even an hour later. And, as soon as you excused yourself from your friends and stepped out into the hallway, he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and discreetly guiding you through a back door, to a dark alley behind the popular bar. Your back was against the wall and his lips on yours, hands roaming all over your body, before you could even question him or get a good glimpse at him under the moonlight.

“Azriel,” you whine, trying to get his attention away from your neck, where he has been leaving tiny bites followed by soothing open-mouthed kisses, effectively making you lose your mind. Your hand tightens around his collar at a particularly hard bite, one you're sure left the imprint of his sharp canines on your supple skin.

Just when you were about to call out to him once more, thinking he didn't hear you or was choosing to ignore you, the shadowsinger finally lets out a hum against the column of your throat, at last acknowledging you were trying to talk to him.

You swallow before speaking, trying to get rid of the dryness in your mouth. This backfires as it only makes him use his grip on the back of your neck to pull you even closer to him when he feels the movement, and a moan leaves your mouth before you find your words.

“Someone could see us,” you push through the desire steadily building inside you, trying to be the voice of reason, but you barely get the words out as he keeps nibbling on the soft skin of your throat, making you struggle to hold onto your composure.

When he simply lets out another amused hum before continuing to mark up your neck - to the point you're not sure the glamour magic you can use will be enough for covering them up - you tangle your fingers around the strands of dark hair and pull hard, effectively getting his attention. He grunts softly but allows you to move him away from your neck, and you're finally able to meet his eyes for the first time since he's taken you to the alley.

Your heart stalls in your chest when you take him in. Pupils blown out behind half-lidded eyes, the beautiful hazel almost imperceptible in the midst of all the desire. Dark hair messy, falling into his eyes, and shirt half undone from your tight grip on his collar, the illyrian marks you've grown to love peaking through. He was breathing heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly as he took advantage of the break you've given him to catch his breath.

The sight almost makes you forget your protests, brain going numb at the raw hunger reflected on his face. He's always been mesmerizing, you've been caught by his beauty ever since the first time you met him all those decades ago, but in moments like these you sometimes have trouble believing he's even real. He's like a God walking among mortals.

Azriel smirks when he notices your eyes glazing over and your scent deepening with arousal, taking the opportunity and leaning down for another, slower but equally passionate kiss. He's been so focused on your neck that he barely even tasted you since you've been outside. He wants to take his time with you for a moment.

Your mouth opens for him immediately, melting into him and releasing the grip you had on his dark locks in favor of grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you, needing to feel all of him while he explores your mouth.

Eventually, you break the dizzying kiss again, your senses catching up to you in between the desire fogging up the air. He lets out a sound suspiciously similar to a whine and leans his forehead against yours, barely moving a breath away from your lips. Resigned to hear what you have to say before being able to continue indulging in your enticing taste.

“We'll get caught if we stay here,” you whisper, lips brushing against his soft ones with every word.

You needed to keep your head leveled, wanting to avoid getting caught in such a risky position by any of the drunk party goers or, even worse, your High Lord. You don't even let yourself wonder what anyone would think if they found you tangled up with someone who is technically your superior, outside of a bar of all places. You'd both be in a lot of trouble.

“I won't let anyone see us,” he assures, and as the words leave his mouth, the dark shadows always accompanying him start swirling around the both of you, as if corroborating the statement. “I can keep us well hidden.” He finishes the sentence with a chaste peck on your lips and moves back to look into your eyes, searching for any doubts and waiting to see your response. Always so respectful even in the throes of pleasure.

You bite your lip, holding his gaze as you realize what he's implying. It's not that you would consider yourself a prude by any means but you've never done anything like this in public. Well, aside from the first night that started it at all, but the circumstances had been completely different then. Drunk fae could stumble out through the back door at any moment here, it could even be one of your friends or his. There was no anonymity in one of the most popular bars in Velaris. This might be the most irresponsible thing you'd do.

And, as much as that's true, you can't deny the heat spreading in your belly at the suggestion, the wetness pooling between your legs.

Azriel is looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you're more than aware of his abilities, of the delicious pleasure he can bring you. He wouldn't lie to you either, if he promised he'd keep you hidden then you know he will follow through with it. You'd trust him with anything.

Without the danger of really getting caught, what's stopping you from letting this irresistible male have his way with you right here? You'd be a fool to deny him and yourself the pleasure.

Your lips are back on his before you can talk yourself out of it, wrapping your arms fully around his neck and letting him take charge. He gets the message quickly, grabbing your waist and pressing you against him, letting you feel his bulge on your stomach, so close to where you need him most, making you both moan into the kiss.

Azriel has never been anything short of passionate when fucking you, always giving it his all and completely drowning you in mind boggling pleasure, but today he's acting differently. His rough touch is hungrier, greedier, as if he couldn't get enough of you no matter how much he took. It feels like he's untamed in his desire and it just so happens that he desires to have you.

His hands move all over your body, soon finding their way under your dress so he can grab at your thighs and pull you closer. You let yours wander down his chest, taking advantage of the mostly unbuttoned shirt, raking your nails softly over the tan skin.

When he abandons your mouth and starts leaving kisses down your jaw, moving to the slowly healing love bites, you notice the shadows have thoroughly covered you when you try to look around, suddenly aware of the loud music.

They're acting as a protective barrier to the outside world, the same way they hide him when he's in enemy territory fulfilling his Spymaster duties. Any last bit of remaining doubt evaporated with the realization. He's never been caught after all.

You let your head fall back against the brick wall, letting out a breath that soon turns into a moan when he bites into your throat hard at the same time his hand finds your folds, teasing the sensitive skin through the drenched fabric of your panties. Feeling him grin against your skin at the reaction he pulled from you.

“Always so ready for me,” he praises and then licks a stripe up your throat, tilting your head further back to reach your chin and connect your mouths once again. You accept him greedily, grinding down on his hand, needing him to touch you properly.

After all the attention he's been giving you and the thought of trying something new with the enticing male, your underwear is absolutely soaked through and you need him to take responsibility for it already. You feel like you'd been doused with hot oil.

Thankfully, he seems to take pity on you, pushing your panties to the side, moving up and down to gather some wetness before slowly starting to circle your clit in time with each lick of his tongue into your mouth.

He's swallowing the desperate sounds trying to escape past your lips and your nails start to dig into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself somehow. You'd be embarrassed at how close you already were if this wasn't Azriel. Each stroke of his scarred thumb against your sensitive clit was taking you higher.

He stops his movements as if sensing how close you were. You were about to protest when he also breaks the kiss, needing him to keep touching you, but hold your tongue when he pushes your dress up to your waist, exposing your soaked underwear to the cold night air. He curses softly as your scent reaches him.

“Keep this up for me, pretty.” His voice was deeper, rough with pleasure and restraint.

Your body catches up to the order before your mind has the chance to, doing as you're told and holding onto your dress so he can have an unobstructed view of you. He breathes out a “good” without ever taking his eyes off the wet fabric clinging to your folds, the praise and need in his eyes only adding fuel to the fire burning inside you.

Azriel gets down on his knees between your legs, now eye level with your cunt as he pulls the panties right to the side, his other hand reaching up, encouraging you to part your thighs so he can feast on the mouth watering sight in front of him.

You can't help the cocky smirk when he lets out a low groan at the sight. You had bought the white skimpy lace in hopes he'd be taking it off, you just couldn't have predicted it would be happening in a dark alley behind this bar.

He looks up at you then, holding your gaze as he leans closer to your heat, licking you from hole to clit, making a show of moaning at the taste. Your hands move to grab at his hair instantly, letting your mouth fall open in a silent moan as he repeats the action.

Your legs threaten to give out when he starts kissing and sucking, not wasting a single drop of your wetness. His thumb circles your hole as he moves to tongue at your clit, swirling it around once, twice before his finger is filling you up.

He throws one of your thighs over his shoulder, diving into your cunt. Soon adding another finger and pumping both into you, getting you ready for him. You start grinding your hips against his face, chasing his fingers, his mouth, the mind numbing feeling he's giving you. He hums into you, the vibrations making you tremble and let out an embarrassing mewl of his name.

You don't know how he can have this effect on you, this male could probably make you melt into a puddle with a simple look. He pulls away with a harsh suck so he can watch his fingers move in and out of you, can watch the wetness almost dripping down your legs and his wrist, replacing his tongue with a scarred thumb, the rough texture so different from his wet tongue, adding an extra bite to the pleasure.

You only notice your head was thrown back against the wall, eyes closed as you chase your orgasm, when you hear him call your name. Eyes moving down to meet his dark ones again.

“I need you to cum on my fingers so I can fuck you, alright?” You nod, half delirious already, even though he's barely gotten his hands on you. You'd do anything he told you to.

It doesn't take long before a familiar knot starts tightening in your lower belly, your walls clenching around his fingers. He starts nibbling at the soft skin of your thigh, leaving marks similar to the ones decorating your neck and chest. Mumbling sweet praises against your skin, words you can't even focus on with the blood rushing through your ears.

Your orgasm catches you by surprise, making you almost lose your balance as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your mouth opens in a silent scream, hands trying to find purchase on his shoulders and his hair, forgetting about the dress and holding onto his instead. His hand abandons your clit so he can grab onto your waist, helping you stay up.

He keeps his fingers moving slowly as you come down from your high, breathing heavily and letting out soft gasps. As your mind clears up, he leans over to leave one last kiss against your heat before taking his fingers out carefully and standing up. Grabbing your chin so he can kiss you once more, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You pull away with a tug on his lip. The orgasm only made you hungrier, you wanted to feel him inside you, stretching you out. “I need your cock, Az.”

“So greedy,” he moans, though you can't figure out if disapprovingly or otherwise. He moves one hand to start unbuttoning his pants so he can free his painful erection at last. You follow the movement, saliva gathering in your mouth involuntarily at the tantalizing sight of his hard, leaking cock. He pumps his fist around it, relieving some of the need. You swallow, moving up to meet his gaze when you feel the intensity of his stare.

He's probably thinking the same thing as you. Remembering how his heavy cock feels against your wet tongue, moving down your throat. You see him grab the base of his cock harder, internally debating if he wants to let you suck him off or fuck you. Your cunt clenches at the thought and apparently the sentiment is clear on your face, the desire written there enough for him to make his decision as he grabs onto the back of your thighs, lifting you up against the wall.

The movement has his cock press right against you, feeling the hardness slide across your sensitive heat. You grab hold of him, not resisting giving him one teasing stroke before guiding him to your hole, needing to have him inside you desperately.

Azriel starts pushing in slowly, stretching you out deliciously. It doesn't matter how many times he fucks you, it will always take you by surprise. You've never had anyone fill you up so well, it almost seemed impossible how he even fit inside you sometimes.

He takes his time filling you up, knowing your body well enough to recognize any twinge of discomfort. In this position, it feels like he can go in deeper, the angle hitting every sensitive spot.

When he finally bottoms out, Azriel presses his whole body against yours, holding you up with his own hips and moving one of his hands over your chest so he can tug the front of the dress down and give your neglected breasts some attention as you adjust to him.

You can feel your walls flutter around his cock, moaning out his name when his mouth finds its way over one of your nipples.

Feeling more than ready for him, you push your hips against him, urging him to finally fuck you. He chokes out a breath, taking a vengeful bite at your nipple, as you move yourself on him, pulling his hips back to thrust back into you, feeling you clench around him. His mouth abandons your chest and meets yours again, hands tightening around your waist as his thrusts' rhythm increases.

It's like all the hunger from before comes back tenfold, his grip most likely bruising your skin as the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other fills the alleyway, your moans rising in tempo with each snap of his hips.

Just as you start losing yourself in the pleasure, one of his hands comes up to cover your mouth. You still let out a muffled whine when he slows down to warn you, whispering in your ear, “The barrier the shadows create isn't completely soundproof. You need to be quiet for me.” You whine in response, making him add, “Alright?”

You almost forgot where you were, and that anyone could walk by you at any moment, but in the heat of desire, the fact only makes you wetter, hips moving of their own accord against him, prompting him to pick up the pace.

“You said we wouldn't get caught.” The last thing you want to focus on right now is to keep quiet when he's making you feel so good.

“We won't,” he moves back to look into your eyes, “Unless you want us to.”

Maybe it's the drinks from before or the way his cock throbs inside you, but you almost wish someone would see you, so they would know you're the one this bewitching male chooses to fuck, you're the one making him cum time and time again, it's your name he moans out in pleasure.

The possessive feeling coils around your heart, a feeling you have no right to have. You have no sort of claim over him after all, but luckily he doesn't let your linger in such thoughts, and starts fucking you hard and fast again, effectively pushing all thoughts out of your mind.

“Gods, you feel fucking perfect,” he growls against your ear, making you let out a long muffled moan. He draws his cock out almost completely before slamming back into you, just so he can hear the gasp that still escapes through his fingers, before picking up the pace again, keeping to shallow thrusts.

His hand moves from your mouth eventually, confident you won't scream too loud, or simply not caring if you do anymore. Both of you get lost in the feeling of each other, tongues battling inside your mouth, your hands roaming all over his shoulders, coming up to tangle in his silky hair. Time almost stands still around the two of you as you hide in his shadows, completely separated from the outside world.

You start getting closer, and knowing you won't be able to hold out for much longer but wanting him to finish with you, you move your trembling hand down his back, finding the raised skin where his wings meet his back and tease them over his shirt.

Illyrians are extremely protective of their wings and you know how sensitive they are, so when he let you touch them around their base for the first time, you were more than flattered even though you can't fully run your fingers over the leathery skin yet, and you're almost sure this isn't the most sensitive spot. You know this is a big step for him, considering all the trust issues you've seen him display, so you don't mind being patient.

Your fingers barely make contact before he's growling and his pace falters, nails digging into your skin. You'd caught him off guard, but he recovers too fast, pushing you even harder into the wall and speeding up, fully intent on making you both fall over the edge now.

“I'm so close,” you breathe out, feeling yourself right at the precipice.

“Me too,” his thrusts turn even more erratic, confirming his words. And with another snap of his hips, you're falling over the edge, moaning out his name with no care for who hears it.

He follows you soon after, thrusting deeper and grinding into you, pumping you full of his cum as the both of you ride out the mind numbing orgasms. You don't remember the last time you came so hard, every nerve on your body is alive with pleasure, if it hadn't been for his hold on you, you don't think you would have been able to stay up.

His lips find your pulse point after a bit, leaving soft kisses around as you massage his scalp, watching with amusement as his wings twitch softly. You would stay in this position for the rest of time if you could, everything just falls into place in these soft moments between you two.

Unfortunately, you get a stark reminder of your surroundings when you hear the back door open, the music filtering through it. You tense immediately, suddenly hyper aware of your compromising position. Azriel leans away from your neck to look into your eyes, his serene expression and the way his wings cocoon around both of you calming you down.

Just as he promised, whoever stumbled out of the bar didn't even suspect you were hidden in the shadows, walking out onto the main street as if they were alone. When you don't hear any footsteps anymore, you let your head fall back against the wall, finally relaxing and breathing a soft, “Fuck.”

He watches you for a moment before speaking up. “We need to get out of here. People are starting to leave,” he tells you, a glimpse of amusement behind his words.

You nod in agreement, knowing he's right but, even after your scare, still hesitant to let go of him, reveling in the warmth of his skin against yours and his soft touch for as long as possible.

The longer you've been sleeping together, the harder it is to accept that outside of the bedroom you're nothing more than acquaintances, you wouldn't even call him your friend. Aside from moments like this or the rare occasion of running into him when you're working, you don't see or talk to him at all.

You always find yourself missing him, not only his body. That's something you need to hide from him, the implications would be enough to have him call off this agreement between you. There is no space for feelings in it, both of you made it very clear from the beginning. You should do yourself a favor and end it before the fluttering of your heart morphs into something more dangerous but you can't bring yourself to even consider it.

He pulls out of you gently, none the wiser to the internal conflict raging inside you. Getting you down from his hold and carefully helping you stand on unsteady legs, muscles still spasming faintly. A rag appears through his shadows and he helps you clean yourself up with it before even worrying about himself, making sure your dress falls back into place as well. You were truly playing a losing game with him. How could you not fall for Azriel?

When you're both decent enough, he calls his shadows off and you put up a glamour around yourself, hopefully masking his male scent clinging to your skin.

“I need to find my friends and let them know I'm leaving.” You try to think of excuses, knowing they'll know you're running off with someone but praying they can't figure out who.

He nods at you, looking over your body with an indecipherable look in his eyes as he takes note of his marks disappearing. “I'll wait for you here.”

“What?”

“My family is used to me sneaking off in the middle of outings,” a smirk grows on his face as he adds, “And I'm not done with you quite yet.”

taglist: @tinymarklee

[jilixthinker]

mr. gorgeous

=͟͟͞♡ felix × fem!reader

=͟͟͞♡ runway felix

word count: 1.1K

content warning: explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, deepthroating, balls slapping (just once)

a/c: i wrote this in 45 minutes and i honestly don't have much to add except that this is what i want to do to him for the rest of my life

=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!

"Please. Please, m-more."

Felix is panting heavily, perfect face flushed with a thin layer of sweat and lipgloss impercettibely smudged on the corner of his lips.

You couldn't even wait to the end of the evening for this, your legs rubbing viciously to ease the tension of seeing Felix, the Felix, walking the runway. And that's why you pulled him with you to the bathroom, not even giving him the chance to repost every single sponsor on his instgram page.

And here you are, tongue lolling out of your mouth, kneeling on the most fancy restroom you will ever have the chance to see in your entire life, easing Felix's pink and chubby cock into the heath of your throat.

Felix is still completely dressed up, gorgeous silver pants hugging his perfect slim legs and white shirt just a litte too tight for the deep breaths he is taking. He brings his hands to the back of you head and you can feel the fluffy sleeves caressing the frame of your face.

"You were so fucking sexy, my angel." you whisper on his groin as you bite a little red mark on the sensitive skin near his base. The sweet scent of body lotion and sweat tangled up in his thick pubic hair is making your head spin.

"Love, baby– ah, fuck. We have n-no time." he moans painfully, slender back arched deliciously against the door of the bathroom you sneaked in. "C-cannot make a mess in these."

Your legs are hurting in this position, your short dress not giving you any help in easing the sting of being on your knees. But you love it nonetheless. You feel like worshipping him, and being like this is the only way you can show him how much you love him, how much you want him.

"Better be quick and clean, then." you mutter as you take Felix's hands and bring them to your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "Wanna feel you all deep, angel, don't hold back."

You lower you face, sniffing at the freckled skin and mouthing at his shaft before grabbing the base of his cock with two of your fingers. Felix hisses your name in a raspy tone, and you cup his balls with your other hand.

When you suckle on the tip you can feel Felix's thigh muscles contracting, and a generous dribble of precum gushes out of his slit to coat your tongue. You take the hint and you allow the whole head in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and slurping the warm liquid down your throat.

"You taste amazing. Been pent up as soon as I saw you coming in." you admit, rolling one humid ball in your hand and nosing it before you can suck that in your mouth as well. Felix keens and his head bumps against the door.

"Do you know how hard I had to press my legs together to avoid wetting the fucking chair, my love? Thinking about you coming down my throat and giving me all of your cum until it spills out of my mouth?" you say warmly, taking his cock in a firm fist and letting the red tip hit twice your cheek.

Felix gulps and you think you want to suck his neck as well. But you can't now. That is for later.

You force your tongue out of your mouth and you present it to him, keeping it still and firm.

"Oh f-fuck. Can I? C-can I really?" he asks with his eyes glassy.

You nod accommodatingly, sticking out your tongue as much as you can and feeling your pussy throb and pulsing around nothing. You would give anything in the world to slam Felix down and ease his cock into you, but this is not the time. Now it's for him.

Felix gulps again and gives you a few taps on the hand holding him, letting it fall neatly on your thighs. He looks at you in the eye and curses softly at the view. "Thank you." he pants out, teeth biting the fat of his bottom lip.

And then he grips his length and he slaps his cockhead against your tongue. He does it once, twice. A spurt of white liquid shoots out of him and he uses his engorged tip to spread it on your lips. You moan at the sticky sensation and another gush of slick coats your panties.

He slaps his cock on your wet muscle a few more times before his hips buck forward and you curl your fingers around the base of his length once again. Felix lets out a shuddering breath, and with a quick movement you sink your head down to engulf the entirety of him.

"Baby, please. Please, I am almost there." he whispers as you go back to suckle on his tip and you use your hand to pump the rest.

"Wanna shoot in my mouth, angel? Make me drink your cum as it was a fucking cocktail?" you ask, continuing to bob your head and swirl your tongue around the underside of his heavy cock up to the head.

"Y-yes," he slurs out. "Wanna fill your stomach, please baby. P-please let me."

You smile around his girth and you take him down your throat once again, letting it reach the back as deep as you can and forcing yourself to swallow. Felix hips jolt and you relax yourself to accomodate his entire lenght inside of your mouth, your hand coming back to cup his humid balls and give them a gentle smack.

It takes just a few minutes of you gurgling around Felix's cock for him to start blabbering nosense, and as you feel him hitting the back of your throat with a decise thrust, you swallow again, choking his lenght with a tight heat.

"Oh, fuck, baby, that's it– G-gonna cum." he manages to whisper as his hot white cum starts to shoot in your mouth and leak down your throat. You keep hollowing your cheeks and milk him by squeezing his balls until you feel the last drop of his seed gushing out of his slit.

"Oh my God." he moans, back hitting the door for one last time and cock beginning to soften in your mouth.

You give him one last kitten lick to clean him up and then you tuck him back inside his shiny expensive pants.

"You don't even know what I am gonna do to you when we'll be back home, Mr. Gorgeous".

©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.