#this was a nice brush test though

[embracetheremarkable]

2034

(version without border and signature and wahtever else)

[taievieu]

wip from liml's finale's anni i never finished

[2000sanimeop]

I recently spent some time drawing the cast of my favorite final fantasy game in the style of my other favorite final fantasy game :^]

[arleo]

There's no reason for me to exist anymore.

[the-one-and-only-bibliography]

spearmaster sketches of... questionable quality

think ill make the second one into a full piece (though the face/head definitely needs fixing. and other things too)

(design by @/anomalouscorvid, see this post)

[jarofstyles]

Merlot

Hello my lovely ducklings. I promised a good age gap DILF sorta thing and I’m here to hand ‘em over. He’s getting some silver at the temples and she’s loving every second of it. Let me know what you think 🍷

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second part and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 8k

Warnings- age gap, dilfrry, smut, oral (m + f receiving) unprotected sex (please wrap it up irl), exhibitionism, daddy kink if you squint, and all the fun stuff.

“I hate to ask this cliche question, and it absolutely pains me to ask in such an uncouth way- but do you come here often?” Peeking over the rim of the glass, amber liquid brushed his top lip and the ice cubs clanked as the smoky liquor hit his tongue.

God knew what he was doing- the girl in front of him looked too young for him, but she had struck up the conversation first. Commenting on his silver lion’s head ring and asking where he’d gotten it, wide eyed and eager as she looked up at him with that pretty pout and mascara coated lashes. Perhaps it was the crippling loneliness of divorce, maybe it was the hint of a buzz of his second drink, or even a hint of desperation that had him continuing the conversation with the younger woman as she took the bar stool in front of him- but she seemed receptive. Leaning into the conversation and keeping eye contact, she played into him.

"Cliches can be cute sometimes." She laughed as she placed her own glass down, now empty. "I don't, no. I'm not one for the whole going out thing. Not anymore. I was in uni, but I think as soon as you graduate they take away your tolerance card." Rolling her eyes playfully she felt a lick of satisfaction in getting a chuckle out of him. "And what about you? Do you like to come to bars with overpriced drinks to talk to random people who decide to invade your bubble to ask where your pretty jewelry is from?"

"Well, I can't say I make a habit of it, but sometimes a man needs to escape the responsibilities of reality- and as much as I adore my pets, I think they’re tiring of hearing my voice.” He shook his head as he flexed his fingers, looking back down at the conversation starter. Pretty eyes met his own. It had been so long since he felt flustered but she had done a pretty good job at making him feel a little off kilter in the best way. A break from the mundane.

“I’ll have to agree with you on them revoking your tolerance once you exit uni. Though I will say it’s a blessing in disguise. I wasn’t terribly into partying in my last year, considering I’d started getting awful hangovers. Almost like s’bad for you, or something.” He teased, leaning against the bar top. It was clear that they’d shifted closer to each other through their conversation and he tried to not get his hopes up, but he sort of did feel like she was giving him… those sort of eyes. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends, though.”

“You’re not.” She said simply, looking up at him. Usually, facial hair wasn’t something she considered much at all. Not many around her wore it, but she had to say the longer she looked at him, the more she liked it. It was just… masculine. Rugged, in a way, but he kept it groomed. This man was interesting all around, with pretty rings and a deep raspy voice, seafoam eyes and a little tiny gray streak starting near his temple. God, that was hot. “I’m plenty happy talking to you.”

His heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, those eyes sparkling with something he hoped was interest, but at the very least looked like genuine intrigue. Nothing about their encounter led to her feeling otherwise. It was a nice change, feeling the ease of a conversation flow even if he stumbled on words when he accidentally looked down at her lips.

Fuck it.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "I’m glad t’hear that. You're very easy to talk to." he said, his voice low and warm. The risk was there, initiating a bit of touch, but he had fo test to waters. See where this was headed. Was she looking for a safe haven? A reliable guy who didn’t look like a creep (hopefully), someone to buy her drinks as she pitied the older man at the bar, or… was this headed the direction the heat in his belly desperately wanted.

“Am I?” Her head tilted slightly, smile slightly shy but making no effort to move from where his fingers hovered slightly. “I do get told I have problems knowing when to shut up and let things be quiet, so I suppose that tracks. It can be nice in conversations.” Especially when he had seemed slightly apprehensive of her at first and now warmed up. “You’ve got a nice voice. It’s nice to talk to you.”

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to keep talking, then." He said softly, his voice growing even warmer as he leaned in closer, his eyes flicking back down to her lips briefly before returning to her eyes.

“I agree.”

Y/N could be considered bold at times, but she liked that he was showing some effort- some interest. It was give and take, push and pull, a fun little game as she was given a perfect chance when someone else approached the bar top from behind Harry. “Oop- come ‘ere.’ She laughed, gently tugging him in as her ankle hooked around the back of his knee to tug him into her. “Someone’s tryn’ to make an order.”

Now he was closer than she had anticipated, stood between her thighs as she sat on the barstool with her leg wrapped around his. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get in your space.” The girl could feel his body heat. Fuck, he smelled so good. None of that… the familiar cheap colognes and aftershaves she was used to, not was it overpowering. Harry smelled expensive and spicy with some sort of leathery vanilla and she had to wonder what it was. "You smell really good..."

"No, no, it's fine..." He said softly, his voice trailing off as he looked down at her, their faces inches apart. He didn't move away, instead, he leaned in even closer, his hand resting on her knee. “Thank you.” The heat felt a little overwhelming in his cheeks. Pathetic to be a grown man blushing over such a simple compliment but he was so close to her now, body head radiating off of her and she smelled equally as good. “Um, so do you.”

He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent. It was a unique blend of floral notes, with a hint of citrus and a sweet, vanilla-like undertone. It was feminine, youthful, and intoxicating. Sweet and fresh. It didn’t choke him in floral and musk like the women who had been after him since his signature had barely dried on his divorce papers, but something that he vaguely remembered from his own days around her age. Perhaps that was a sign he should back off, but he couldn’t. He felt himself getting lost in the scent, his head spinning slightly as he continued to breathe her in.

His hand on her knee nearly burned but she relished in the feeling, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled slightly at him. It was her first time attempting something like this. Older men were always a thing for her, a desire, but never one she felt bold enough to go for. Now, though, she wondered why she had waited. The feeling in her stomach and the delicate way she felt under his touch was something that had her nearly giddy.

“I like the mustache.” She pointed to it. “It’s a mature look. In a good way.” Of course she didn’t want to offend him, make him feel like she was calling him old. “Guys I’m around usually can’t pull it off. But you do.” Braving a touch, she let her fingers run over his jaw and felt a slight bit of scruff. “Are y’gonna go for a full beard? Or no?”

"Maybe..." Harry murmured, leaning into her touch. "Depends on how well it's received..." The joke was cracked softly, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as she touched his face. He let his hand slide a little higher up on her thigh, squeezing gently. "Thank you for the compliment though. Was hoping it wouldn’t be a bad thing cause I noticed y’looking at it.”

“Mm, I was. It’s nice.” Sexy. Her eyes felt heavy as she watched his lips curl in a slight smile. “ I’m assuming that there’s no missus at home?” She asked lightly. “You don’t seem like a cheater, Harry.” It was a tease, but he didn’t wear a ring on his ring finger. Usually she never gave men the benefit of the doubt but selfishly, she wanted to be right so she wouldn’t feel guilty about imagining her inner thighs raw from beard burn later tonight.

"No missus." He confirmed, his thumb rubbing small circles on her thigh as he opened his eyes to look at her. "Just me, and the office. I've been too busy to think about dating, let alone finding someone serious." He admitted honestly, his gaze lingering on her face. "I mean, I was married. Briefly." He said, his expression growing slightly somber. "But that's over now. It didn't work out." He shrugged, trying to downplay it, even though the divorce had been messy and painful. "What about you? Boyfriend at home?"

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” She frowned. It wasn’t something she’d pry on because she could see it bothered him a bit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. Nor that she didn’t feel bad. “I’m single, thank god. My last boyfriend was a complete prick.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Cheated on me a few times on a boys holiday. Was stupid enough to post with other girls and think people wouldn’t send it to me just because he hid stories from me. but it was a relief, anyways.” It sounded cold, callous maybe, but it was the truth. “It’s just me now as I figure out what to do.”’

"He sounds like an idiot." He grumbled, his hand tightening lightly on her thigh. "You're too good for that." He paused, his eyes flicking over her features. "What do you mean, figure out what to do? Like, with life?"

“Yeah. Career wise mostly. I think I want to do writing but it’s been hard to tell lately. I do that part time and then work at a cafe as a waitress and pick up shifts when I need the money. I’m tired all the time so it’s taking me longer to simply sit down and figure out 100% what I want to do but, that’s life.” She shrugged. “So I get suckered into going out to bars with my coworkers and getting a buzz so I go up to a handsome man and demand to know where his ring is from, so it suppose it isn’t all bad.”

"Writing, huh?" There was intrigue in his voice as he took in her answer. The compliment wasn’t lost on him, and it fueled that bolder part of him that wanted to break out. "Like, books, or journalism? I happen to be in publishing, so if that’s something you’d like to walk about we can…." He trailed off, his thumb continuing to rub soothing patterns on her thigh. "It’s not the easiest thing to break into but you’ve got a lot going for you. I’d be willing to help you if you feel ready.” . That was a genuine offer, regardless if he got laid… but he still felt that the way she was looking at him had an undertone

"You should come by my office sometime, if you want." He offered, his voice low. "I mean, if you're interested in publishing. We could... talk shop. Or something." He added, his hand slowly creeping higher up her thigh as he spoke.

“Or something?” She grinned widely. “Are you making a pass at me, handsome stranger Harry?” Her fingers stroked down his jaw towards his neck, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"I mean, m’being serious about helping you but… Maybe a bit of flirting is happening." He whispered, tilting his head to the side to give her better access. "I mean, you did ask where my ring was..." He pointed out softly, his hand now resting high up on her thigh, fingers spread wide, said ring gleaming in the low light. "And I haven't exactly been getting much action since the divorce..."

Eyes fell down to his hand and back up to his face, ever so slightly spreading her legs more to allow him to step closer between them. The heel of her shoe gently ran over his calf, biting lightly on her lower lip as she tried to keep the smile off her face. “And is that the only thing you want from me?”

Harry's breath hitched as she spread her legs, his heart racing at the subtle gesture. His hand tightened ever so slightly on her thigh, his fingers digging in just a bit as he leaned in closer. "No," He admitted quietly, his voice husky. "But it's a good start."

“Tell me.” She slipped her hand down to let them curl into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve never been with an older man before, Harry. Are you all just as shitty as the younger ones? Or are you better?”

Harry's eyes darkened as she slipped her hand under his shirt, the rough pad of her fingers against his skin making him shiver. "I'm better." He said confidently, his voice deep and rumbling. "I know what I want, and I know how to treat a woman."

The man’s hand tightened on her flesh as she let out a breathy sigh, his eyes never leaving hers. "With respect," He said simply. "With kindness and attention. I open doors, I pull out chairs, I make sure they're comfortable and cared for. And in bed…" There was a pause, a slight smirk on his face as he averted his gaze for a single moment.

“In bed?” She echoed, looking up at him expectantly. “Don’t keep me on edge here. I’m dying to know.”

Harry smirked at her, his hand moving higher up her thigh, stopping right at the hem of her panties. His knuckles could feel how humid she was, no denying she was wet. It was hard to keep focused, but he had to. "Well, Y/N… I make sure they're satisfied," He said, his voice low and sultry. "I take my time, I pay attention to their body, I explore and learn what makes them tick."

“So you won’t just cum and roll over and fall asleep?” She hummed, her other hand running under his blazer and over his back. “Because I’m real tired of giving it my all and barely getting a subpar orgasm out of it. It’s why I was trying to be celibate for a while…”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Not on my watch," He said, his thumb brushing against her panties. "I'll make sure you're thoroughly satisfied, multiple times if needed. I'll hold you close, kiss you, tell you how beautiful you are, while I make love to you."

“Ooo… he makes love..” She cooed, giggling lightly before leaning into whisper the next words to him. Was this an older man thing? Or a literature person sort of thing? Waxing poetically about the things he could provide, it all sounded amazing. But she had to know. “But can you fuck? Can you make me feel it for days, bruise my ass, get me so wet I ruin your sheets?”

Harry groaned quietly her words, his thumb pressing against her panties, feeling how soaked they were. "Fuck, yes." He growled under his breath, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek. "I can be rough, I can be gentle, I can do whatever the hell you want. All y’have to do is ask."

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as his thumb brushed over her clit through her panties, looking to the side as she attempted to see if anyone was paying attention- but considering how crowded it was tonight, no one was paying them much mind. “So you’ll take me back to your place and make me cum? That’s what I want.”

Harry nodded, his thumb rubbing against her. "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll take you back to my place and make you cum so hard you'll see stars. And then I'll keep going, as long as you want, until you can't take it anymore."

“God.” The girl’s head rolled toward and thumped on his shoulder, feeling him chuckle as he rolled his thumb over her swollen clit. The lacy scrap of material she considered panties did little to hide how slick she was, the older man having plenty of fun playing with her as she turned her head and nipped her teeth into his throat.

Harry let out a low hiss at the sharp little bite, his hand still pressing against her clit through her panties. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his phone, quickly typing out a text message before putting it back in his pocket.

“W-What are you doing?” She murmured, slowly pressing her lips to his skin and staining it with her lipstick. He was casual about playing with her, acting like stroking her clit was second nature as his other hand adjusted the straps of her dress back up from where they’d begun to droop.

Harry smirked as she inquired, his thumb still making small circles against her clit. He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "I'm sending a message to my housekeeper, to make sure the bed is prepared for when we get back to my place."

“God, M’gonna suck your dick so good.” She sighed, a tipsy giggle leaving her throat. “It’s big. I knew it was when I came over here but… shit, I’m gonna feel it for days.”

Harry grinned as she grumbled against his neck, his hand leaving her panties to grip her hip possessively. "You're going to love it, baby. I'm going to stretch your little mouth wide, and you're going to take every inch like a good girl." He crooned low in his throat. “But you need to get that pretty ass up and come t’the car with me. My driver is here.”

——-

Y/N let out a squeal of delight as Harry tossed her into his bed. His Californian King with a canopy, four postered, hand craved fucking bed frame, his shirt unbuttoned, belt undone and jacket on the floor. Her dress was over her hips and she wasn’t sure exactly how they’d gotten here, but what she was sure of was the fact that she really did like kissing him. “Kiss me.” She demanded, grabbing his scruffy face as he crawled up the bed and hovered over top of her.

Harry chuckled at her demanding tone, his mustache brushing against her lips as he obliged her request. He kissed her deeply, his hand wrapping around her jaw to pull her close. As they made out, he let go only momentarily to reach down and grab her dress, yanking it up over her head and tossing it carelessly aside.

That left her in just the pathetic excuse of lace panties, as she had forgone the bra for the sake of the dress, and there was no complaints on his end. Her hand pushed at the shoulder of his shirt, trying to get it off of him. “Want you closer.” She mumbled, leaning into him with a mewl as he pulled back to do as she asked. It was erotic and hot and she was surprised by the amount of tattoos he had, but god, did she want to see more of him.

Harry grinned, feeling her warm hands pushing at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing her to pull it off of him. His tattoos were extensive, covering most of his arms, chest, and back. Inquisitive hands ran over her sides, marveling at her form compared to his own build.

The man bent down and started to place kisses along her collarbone and up her neck. His rough hands squeezed her sides gently, thumbs brushing along her ribs. He continued to kiss and nibble at her neck, his facial hair tickling her sensitive skin. He whispered, "Wrap your legs around my waist, baby."

She did as asked, eyes fluttering shut as she could feel him through his trousers. Of course, she’d been right. The man’s cock was big like she had expected, and it was thick. Throbbing against her through the fabric, her mouth watered slightly as she rubbed herself against him, fingers finding his hair as he made his way down her throat. “Fuck, it’s been so long.” The slight scratching of the facial hair only made her feel more sensitive, like she was on a live wire. It was decided that she definitely liked it now.

Harry groaned at her words, the sound coming out more like a rumble from his chest. He continued to kiss and nip at her throat as she ground herself against him. His hands squeezed and gripped her ass, encouraging her movements. "God, you feel so damn good, and m’not even inside you yet."

Harry paused for a moment, looking up at her with a heated gaze. "You're so precious, so sweet... I've never been with anyone like you before." His voice was gruff, filled with desire. He ran his hands up her sides, marveling at her smooth skin. The curves, the indents, all of it was new and exciting.

“No?” She asked softly. “I’ve never been with an older man either. Kinda like it.” There was no hesitation in admitting it. “Was your ex wife not good to you, Harry?”

Harry's expression darkened briefly at the mention of his ex-wife. "She wasn't... attentive. And she certainly never looked at me the way you are now." He buried his face in her neck once more, kissing and nuzzling her skin.

“No?” It was astounding. “I don’t know how. If I had a man like you…” She let out a breathy laugh. “You’d have to pry me off of you. you are so attractive, so sweet… Can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be all over you, all the time.” It wasn’t something she could really understand. She barely knew the guy but she liked what she saw, and she liked it a lot.

Harry's heart swelled with pride at her words. He felt his ego growing a bit, having this beautiful young woman fawn over him. "I think she was always more interested in the status and prestige that came with being married to me, rather than actually being in love with me." It wasn’t something he liked to think about but in this instance he felt okay with it. If it hadn't ended, he wouldn’t end up here.

His lips continued to kiss and caress Y/N, his hands roaming over her curves almost in awe of what he had his hands on. It wasn’t what he had expected. People watching at the bar was his goal, really. He had one night stands a few times but he didn’t necessarily want this to be a one time sorta of thing. Not when she smelled this good and her lips tasted like cherry wine. He wanted to know what books she liked just as much as he wanted to know how she looked when she came. "But now I have you in my bed, and you're looking at me like I'm the most desirable man you've ever seen, so I think m’doing okay." He crooned, nipping at her neck.

“Because you are.” The girl purred. “All man and power in the best way. Not socially, but in what you are. You exude it.” Her cunt rubbed against him, making her eyes lull. “I knew you’d have a big dick. Knew it just walking up, how you stood. I wanted it inside of me.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his voice a deep rumble. "Is that right? You wanted me inside you from the moment you saw me?" His hands gripped her backside firmly, spreading her cheeks as she ground against him. "Well, you're going to get it, baby."

“Mmm… I want it now.”

Y/N nearly whimpered as he pulled away but quickly shut up as she watched him stand up, hands working the button of his trousers. It took her seconds to lift up and get on her knees in front of him, shooing his hands away to take over. it had been months since she’d given head and while she wasn’t a normal lover of it, she had been dying to get her hands on him.

Harry watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she pushed his hands away and undid his pants herself. He bit his lower lip as she slowly revealed what she'd been craving. "You don't have to do that, baby." He said hoarsely, knowing full well that he wanted her to- but he wouldn’t make her. It would be more than okay if he focused on her. He got off on giving, and that’s what he focused on.

“Need to.” She gave him a look as she slowly tugged the zipper down, guiding his trousers down before palming him over his briefs. “Fuck, I’m gonna be full of this.”

Harry let out a low moan at her grip and the words that followed. The image of her full and well used was enough to send any red-blooded man to their knees, but he just stood there in front of her, letting her take control, letting her give him pleasure. He watched as she pulled his boxers down, freeing his length. His hands moved to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He could see the lust in her gaze, and he couldn’t help but sigh again at the sight of her.

His thick, veined shaft jutted out proudly from a trimmed thatch of dark hair. The head was a dark, angry red and already glistening with precome. The older man let out a sharp breath as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, slowly starting to stroke him. He watched intently as she gripped his cock, sliding it over the sensitive length, causing it to pulse in her grip.

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine as she watched his control come undone. Her eyes were locked onto him, watching his cock pulse and throb in her hand. She could feel it grow harder with each stroke, leaning herself down and sticking out her tongue for a taste.

The sensation of her tapping tongue against the tip of his cock made him shudder, watching the precum string from his slit to the pad of her pink tongue. He looked down at her, seeing the hot promise in her eyes- this was going to be good and he knew it. She slowly began to slide the head of his cock back and forth between her lips, teasing it with her tongue.

Y/N wasn’t one to call any cock pretty, but she would dare to say it for him. Harry’s cock was appealing in the way most others hadn’t been. Maybe part of it was her overwhelming attraction to him in general, but she felt even more eager to make him feel good than she had with anyone else in the past. “I want to take it in my throat. I can do it, I promise. Jus’ need your help.” Her plea was finished with a kiss to the tip before opening her mouth, looking up at him to let him take over.

He guided her head forward gently, encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth. "Relax your jaw, baby, you can take it." He coaxed softly, his voice laced with desire. As Y/N did as he asked, Harry felt his cock slide deeper into her warm, wet mouth. Her lips stretched around his girth, pushing in slowly before he felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat. He could feel her nose pressing against his pubic bone as she struggled to take him all in. “Shh, sweetheart. Just gotta get it wet for me, show me what you can do.”

He held her head steady, his hands gently gripping her hair as he started to slowly thrust his hips. The sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of her mouth filled the room, along with the occasional gagging noise as she struggled to accommodate his size.

"You're doing so well, baby," Harry praised, his voice low and gravelly. "Look at you, takin’ it like a good girl. You're gonna make me come so hard today, aren’t you, sweetheart? Just like that, that's it- relax that throat for me..."

As Harry continued to talk to her, his sweet words and praise, Y/N's eyes began to water from the effort of taking him so deep. She gagged a few times, her hands coming up to his thighs for support, but she refused to pull away for longer than a few seconds to catch her breath.

Her cheeks hollowed and her jaw ached, but she was determined to take him all in. Harry's hands moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, fucking her mouth with more urgency. "That's it, baby. You're making me so hard... S’been so long... Been ages since anyone’s made me feel like this..." Harry's voice trailed off into a low moan as Y/N finally managed to take him all in, her nose pressing against his lower abdomen. “Tha’s it, right there- fucks sake.”

Harry's hips began to thrust involuntarily, fucking her mouth with shallow pumps as he held the back of her head, still buried deep in her throat. He released the grip, trying to urge her off- but she didn’t want to. "Fuck... you’ve got t’pull off, sweetheart..." he groaned, his breathing heavy and erratic. “Need t’fuck you.” Y/N whimpered around his thickness, her eyes watering as she shook her head slightly, indicating that she wasn't ready to give up yet. She wanted to taste him, to drink him down like he had with her. Harry's grip tightened in her hair, his voice strained.

"Babe...you've gotta-you've got to... please," Harry begged, his voice cracking as she continued to suck him off, her head bobbing and nose brushing his thatch of hair, making his eyes clench shut. "If you don't stop now, M’gonna, fuck...I'm gonna cum in your mouth..."

Y/N whimpered, her hands gripping his thighs tightly as she continued to suck him enthusiastically, eager to taste him. Harry's breathing became rapid and shallow, his fingers tightening in her hair as he struggled to hold back. "Y/N, last chance...I'm-"

The girl moaned as she felt him stiffen, his hips bucking forward as he finally gave in and let go, filling her mouth with his warm release. Watching his face fall in ecstasy, it was going to be worth the soreness tomorrow. She struggled to swallow it all, some of it dripping out of her mouth and down her chin. Harry's knuckles were white from gripping her hair so tightly, his body trembling as he came deep in her mouth. The sight of her swallowing him down was almost too much for him to handle, and he had to close his eyes and focus on not passing out. It truly had been a long fucking time.

As Harry finished cumming, Y/N eagerly cleaned his sensitive prick with her tongue, licking and sucking until he was completely clean. She ran her tongue along the veins and underneath the head, making him shudder and pull back. "Too sensitive...God, you're so good at that." he praised breathlessly. There was slight disbelief in there too, a slight tingling in his thighs as he looked at her as she pressed sloppy kisses to his hip bone. Mascara smeared under her eyes and lipstick a faded smeared mess, he wondered how he had gotten this lucky.

Harry needed a moment to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the intense orgasm. He looked down at Y/N, her messy appearance only making her more adorable to him. "You know what would be perfect right now?" he asked, his voice still shaking slightly.

“What?” Her voice croaked, feeling his thumb brushed away some of the tears on her cheek that had fallen from the gagging.

"Letting me get a taste of that pussy I've been fantasizing about." Harry suggested, his eyes still lingering on her messy and sated appearance as he pulled her up and pushed her to lay back down on the bed. “S’my turn now. Spread those perfect legs and let me see that cunt.”

Y/N obediently spread her legs wide, letting Harry see her dripping wet pussy. He let out a low groan at the sight as he got on his knees, his thumbs spreading her lips apart to reveal her slick folds. He buried his face between her thighs, inhaling her scent deeply before diving in and licking her from asshole to clit. There was no wasting any time or pretending to be shy about a single thing.

A started squeak left her mouth as her head popped up, hands gripping his head as he dove right in with little hesitation. Harry hadn’t seemed like the type to have any reservations in taking what he wanted, and it was being proven by how his tongue slid over her most sensitive parts.

He continued to eat her out with reckless abandon, his tongue fucking her pussy as if it belonged to him. Her breathing was heavy as he sucked on her clit, nibbling at it gently before returning to lap at her folds. His hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks wide to give himself better access to her tight hole. He wanted to have it all. “S’this okay, baby?”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N hadn’t really had anyone touch her there before but she couldn’t say she hadn’t been curious and self explored. It was always something she wanted to play around with and it felt exciting, handing herself over to the man like that.

Harry grinned mischievously against her wet flesh, his hands spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper. He pushed his thumb against her hole, slowly sliding it inside as he continued to lap at her cunt. “You taste so good, sweetheart...” he murmured, his voice muffled by her flesh.

He added a second finger to her ass, scissoring them apart slowly as he tongue fucked her pussy. Y/N's legs started to shake as the dual stimulation became too much. She gripped his hair tightly, her back arching off the bed as she let out a high pitched whine. "Ah!"

Y/N's fingers tightened painfully in Harry's hair, her knuckles turning pale as she tried to stay grounded while the pleasure consumed her. His tongue was spearing into her soaking wet hole over and over, curling up to rub against that spot inside her that made her see stars. And his fingers… god, those hands.

His fingers were stretching her asshole, pushing past the initial resistance and sinking deep into her tight heat. He scissored them further apart, popping her open wider as he fingered her ass. Y/N's legs shook violently, her whole body trembling as she felt herself on the verge of a massive orgasm.

"Harry...it's...too- please..." She babbled, unable to form a full sentence as he continued to stuff her holes. It had never been like this before, no one had even come close. He ignored her pleas, instead burying his face deeper and pumping his fingers faster. She felt so stuffed, so full, the pressure mounting inside her unbearably.

He felt her whole body stiffen, her pussy fluttering on his tongue as she cried out. She gushed against his mouth as she came, the feeling so intense and overwhelming that the waves of pleasure forced her to collapse against him.

Harry worked her through it as she trembled and whimpered with pleasure, his fingers still buried in her ass and his tongue still buried in her pussy. He felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that he'd reduced this beautiful young woman to a whimpering, shaking mess. It was not only an ego boost from what had been lacking for a while now, but he liked seeing how she reacted to him. He alone had done it.

Harry slowly lifted his head, wiping her from his face as he grinned wickedly at Y/N. "You taste even better when you're coming apart for me, sweetheart." He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact with her. "And you’re tight everywhere, hm?”

Y/N stared at Harry, her eyes glazed over and pupils dilated from the intense high she was still riding down from. Her mouth was slightly parted, breath hitching as she watched him clean her off his hands. A soft blush spread across her cheeks, embarrassed yet turned on by his bold actions.

"H-Harry...that was...I've never...I mean...no one's ever..." She stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence even still.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying how flustered she was. "No one's ever played with your pretty little hole before?"

“No.” Her face felt hot as he grinned up at her. He seemed more than pleased and it made her feel good to know he was happy but still, she had the slight embarrassment that only came with the territory.

"Well, consider that box checked then." He said smugly, crawling back up her body to kiss her passionately. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, the musky flavor a testament to what he'd just done to her.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as he continued to ravage her mouth. She mewled into the kiss, arching up against him as she felt his hard length pressing into her stomach. "Does my pretty girl want more?"

“Mhm.” She nipped his lip. “Want you inside of me.” Was she still sensitive from her orgasm? yes. But she had been desperate to get him inside of her since she’d first spoken to him. “Do you- are you clean?”

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her cheek. "I'm always clean, sweetheart. I get checked regularly and I'm very particular about who I share my dick with." He gave her wrists a gentle squeeze before releasing them, reaching over to his pants to his back pocket to grab his wallet.

“I-“ Her hand reached for his wrist. “I don’t wanna use one.” The words laid in the humid air for a moment. It was risky, sure, as any sort of unprotected anything was, but she didn’t want anything in between them. “I want t’feel you inside of me…”

He groaned at her words, his eyes darkening with desire. "Christ, doll. You're gonna be the death of me." Leaning down to kiss her again, his tongue traced over her bottom lip before slipping inside her mouth. He took his time, savoring every inch of her. His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, causing her to shiver in anticipation. His hands made their way under her hair, feeling the warmth of her skin.

“Can I push in, baby?” He asked with a low tone, his lips tracing her collarbone. At her nod, he wasted little time. Poor thing hadn’t been fucked right before, and he would happily give her a proper experience. Reaching down between them, he positioned himself at her entrance. With one slow thrust, he entered her fully, feeling the warmth and tightness of her around him. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, as he buried the tip inside of her. “Fuck, thank you.”

He groaned as he pushed into her, feeling the way her body welcomed him. He paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust and letting himself feel the depth of her wet heat around him. His hands reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Being with a younger woman was different for him, but maybe it was just her- he realized as he moved inside of her. It was like being with a whole new sense of being, one who was full of energy and life. Everything about her was so fresh and vibrant, from her tight little pussy to her perfect tits and gorgeous face.

He continued to thrust into her, feeling the way her walls tightened around him. His hands moved down from her breasts, over her soft stomach and to her hips, exploring whenever he could.

His movements were slower, each thrust deliberate and measured. He wanted to savor the feel of her, the way her body yielded to his. He was drawn to watch her face, loving the way her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth fell open as he filled her. "Look at me," he murmured. She opened her eyes, looking at him with a dazed expression. "Good girl, like t’see those pretty eyes." The man sighed, unable to resist praising her. He continued to thrust into her slowly, each movement filled with lust and desire.

“Fuck.” She kept her eyes on him as her hands ran over his hot shoulderbaldes, keeping that contact as he dipped all the way back home as deep as he could. Her mouth fell open and a high pitched noise left her throat without her permission, brows furrowed. “It’s never been that d-deep.”

He grinned at her, loving the way her inexperience made her react to him. "That's because no one's ever taken the time to stretch you out right." He leaned down to kiss her neck, his hips continuing to move in slow, deep thrusts.

“Where the fuck have you been, then?” She laughed breathlessly, letting her eyes fall back closed as he kept the thrusts slow and deep, relishing every inch he took. her body was lax and hot, his for the taking. Right now she felt like he could do anything and she would welcome it. “Are all older guys like this, or is it j-just you?”

He chuckled darkly against her neck, "There's a reason why women often prefer older men, doll- but M’gonna say for greeds sake, s’just me." He suckled at her skin, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs and push them back farther, opening her up even more to his slow, deep thrusts.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth fell open and he welcomed it, sliding his tongue back inside her mouth and humming at the taste of her against him. The fact there was not a single barrier, albeit risky for the first time fucking, made it even hotter.

His movements became gentler, his hands caressing her skin instead of gripping it. "You like that?" he murmured against her lips, his hips rolling into hers instead of thrusting. "You like knowing that there's nothing between us?" He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a heated gaze. "I want you to look at me when I ask you something," he said, his voice low and commanding as he took her eyes. "Are you on any birth control?"

“Y-Yeah. Uh-huh.” Her eyes wide, she looked up at him hazily as she wrapped her legs further around his hips. “Don’t pull out when you cum. Please- I know m’crazy, but I need… need it.” Y/N knew she was insane for it, but their connection was so strong, every thrust inside of her, hitting places she didn’t know existed prior to this… she needed it.

His expression softened, a coo leaving his mouth as he nodded at her. How precious. "Alright, sweetheart. I promise I won't pull out." A dumb decision on his part too considering they’d just met but in the midst of it all, it was all he wanted to do. His hips began to move again, his pace quickening as he felt the heat of her around him. "You're going to take it all then, aren't you?"

“Yeah.” She mewled. From the sounds and feel alone she knew she was making a mess on his cock, but she had a feeling he was enjoying it every time he snuck a glance between them. “Take everything you give me, Daddy.” It was a risk, but she wanted to see what he’d do.

His face contorted with pleasure, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching. "Good girl…" he hissed, his voice low and gravelly. He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her with more need, his movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to make me cum, doll."

“Cum.” She begged. “Cum in me. Then fuck it into me. Please.” Her nails dragged over his toned back as she clung to him, his bed creaking as he fucked into her welcoming, wet pussy.

He let out a primal grunt and slammed into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his hot, thick cum. He held himself inside her, his hips jerking as he pumped his load deep into her cunt. "Fuck, baby... I'm going to fucking fill you up."

But he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest.

With his cum still pouring into her, he reached under her and grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide apart. Observing the mess he made, he fixed his fingers on her clit as he fucked the cum into her just like she asked. “I gave you what you wanted, darling. Give me what I need too, mm?” His lips brushed her cheek, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. She just needed a little extra, and he was more than happy to provide.

Y/N squirmed slightly as she felt it creep up on her faster than she could anticipate. The pulse of his cock as it dribbled the last of his cum inside of her, the feel of his facial hair brushing her tender skin and his fingertips rubbing quick circles over her clit, it was impossible to keep from holding back. Heat boiled in her stomach as she tried to tell him, but it came on quicker than she could speak.

A broken moan left her lips as her body shook under him, eyes burning with tears of pleasure as he fucked her messy cunt and continued the circles until she pushed his hand away, grabbing his face and kissing him far more messily than she would have done in any other capacity- but this felt right. Fucked out and wobbly, melting into the bed as he slowly stopped the thrusts and stayed buried in her.

“Mm- baby. Sweetheart…” he pulled back to look at her. “You alright? Tell me how you’re feelin’.” He needed to check in on her, make sure she was feeling properly taken care of. Just by the look of it alone he had a feeling she felt that way, but he wanted to hear it from her pretty lips.

“I’m so good.” She grinned, drunk with the pleasure as she looked up at the handsome man. He was everything that she had dreamt about when she woke up sticky between her thighs. Aged like a fine wine.

“Can we go again?”

[hoshifighting]

WARNINGS: non-stabilished relationship, oral (f.receiving), big!cock vernon, semi-public sex, reader is bent over the university's rooftop railing, alcohol, hangover, ditch classes, mentions of getting caught,

thinking about college fling!vernon so badddd 😫

college fling!vernon that you would meet in one of those lame college dorm things that somehow ends up being packed even though the music’s trash, drinks are watered down, and you can’t move without bumping into some dude playing beer pong way too seriously. seungkwan’s buzzing around, doing his best “life of the party” impression, talking to anyone who’ll listen—mostly about how great his friend vernon is (the boy that looked too quiet for the setting) “you gotta meet him,” seungkwan had said earlier, face glowing like he'd just won the lottery. you’d been mid-sip of some cheap punch that tasted more like regret than alcohol. but you nodded because why not? you’re there, stuck, might as well meet the guy.

so here you are, watching vernon from across the room, trying to look like you’re not watching him. he's got this frank ocean shirt on, the one that’s slightly faded, like it’s seen too many nights like this, and you can’t help it—you have to comment on it, break the ice before this gets any more awkward. “nice shirt,” you say, sliding up next to him, trying to sound casual like you didn’t just spend the last five minutes psyching yourself up to say that.

vernon looks at you, and there’s this second where you swear he’s sizing you up, not in a judgy way, just like... observing. “thanks,” he replies, voice low, almost lazy. “you a fan?” you nod, and he gives you this small, almost imperceptible smile. it’s the kind of smile that makes you feel like you’ve passed some sort of test, like you said the right thing. and just like that, the awkwardness melts. he loves music, that much is clear, and suddenly you’re talking about frank ocean’s best album like you’ve known each other for years.

the thing with vernon? he doesn’t say much. but he’s got this way of looking at you—direct, almost too direct, like he’s daring you to break the eye contact first. you’re talking, yeah, but his eyes are doing most of the work. they flicker over you in that slow, lazy way, like he’s got all the time in the world to take you in, to make you squirm.

and you do squirm. because damn, when was the last time someone looked at you like that? like they see you?

he doesn't try to hide it either—the fact that he finds you hot. there’s no playing it cool with vernon, no pretending he’s just here for the conversation. but he’s not crass about it; it’s more subtle than that. like, instead of throwing some cheesy pick-up line your way, he just lets his eyes do the talking, like the way they drop to your lips when you laugh, or the way they linger on the curve of your neck when you turn your head. it’s fucking magnetic, honestly. you’re not even sure if you’re saying anything coherent anymore, but you’re still talking because it feels like a game now. you want to see how long you can keep this up, how long you can hold his gaze without breaking.

so, somehow, after that intense stare-off that lasted way too long, the night blurred after things got a little hazy after the third round of whatever cheap alcohol was in that red solo cup. the party faded into background noise, and all you could really focus on was vernon—how his hand would brush against yours, how his eyes didn’t leave your face, even when you weren't looking. and damn, the way he kissed you, slow at first, but chocking you at the same time, had you practically yanking him back to your room by the end of the night.

college fling!vernon that is butt-naked in your bed in the morning. as you wake up to a dull throb in your head and an even duller one between your legs, the kind of discomfort that reminds you exactly what went down last night. you hiss, eyes squinting against the light filtering in through your half-assed curtains, feeling the sheets sticking to your bare skin.

you groan, sitting up slowly, body protesting every movement. your legs feel a little wobbly, and as the blanket shifts, you wince at the slight sting between your thighs. it’s not intolerable, but enough to remind that you definitely overdid it.

vernon stirs beside you, stretching out like a cat before blinking his eyes open. he sees you, and without a word, sits up, grabbing a half-empty water bottle from your desk. instead of handing it to you like a normal person, he holds it out without the cap—just letting you sip straight from it. it’s messy, some of the water spills on your chest, but whatever, you’re too thirsty to care. you down it in a couple of gulps, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat.

you’re about to bitch about it, complain about your sore muscles or whatever, but vernon’s eyes are already on you, half-lidded but sharp, like he knows exactly what’s going on in that head of yours. before you can even think about capping the bottle, vernon’s already leaning down, shifting the covers off of you, and making his way between your legs. “gonna help with that hangover,” he murmurs, hands gently parting your thighs as he settles down, face close enough to your core that your breath catches. and yeah, you’re hungover, sore, but the second his mouth touches you, all that discomfort? gone.

he’s sloppy, so sloppy, like he’s thirsty for it. his tongue drags over you in these messy, wet strokes that have you gasping, body tensing under his touch. vernon’s got this way of eating you out that’s chaotic and precise. like, one second he’s all over the place, licking you like he can’t get enough, and the next, he’s right there, focused on your clit, swirling his tongue in tight circles that make your toes curl.

“shit, vernon,” you gasp, your hand instinctively finding his hair, tugging as he goes at it like it’s his fucking job.

the slurping, the little moans he’s making like he’s the one getting off—it’s obscene. he’s not even trying to be neat about it, just going all in, licking you like he’s lost in it, like he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. and honestly? u don’t want him to. not with the way your hips are lifting off the bed, chasing his mouth, chasing that high that’s building so fast it’s almost embarrassing. your hand shoots to his hair, tangling in it, pulling him closer because jesus christ, this is—

“so fucking good—ah!”

your body arches off the bed, thighs trembling as he pushes you over the edge faster than you can even process. the orgasm slams into you, fast and hard, and all you can do is ride it out, his mouth still on you, not stopping until you’re completely wrecked. you cum in record time, panting and shaking, and vernon pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like it was nothing.

“feel better now?” he asks, voice all smug and hoarse, and you want to say something—anything—but your brain’s too scrambled to form words. he chuckles, before crawling back up the bed, like he didn’t just ruin you before breakfast. he knows he’s got you.

college fling! vernon that when you’re sitting in class, staring at some powerpoint slides that you know you're never going to remember, your phone buzzes in your lap. half paying attention, you glance down at the screen. it's a message from vernon, and already, a smirk tugs at the corner of your lips because you know this dude barely makes it through class without some kinda stunt.

“yo. wanna ditch?” is all it says, and you can already picture him slouched in the back row of his own class, practically melting from boredom. god, he’s so bad at hiding when he’s bored. you bite your lip, torn between ignoring it like a good student or just saying fuck it—like you always do when it comes to him. why even pretend? with a quick glance to make sure the professor’s not paying attention, you text back:

“where we going?”

he sends the location pin. and it’s for the rooftop.

now, you know the university rooftop’s supposed to be off-limits. it’s plastered with no entry signs, and apparently, they’ve got some security guards roaming around to make sure no one goes up there. but vernon? he doesn’t give a fuck about rules, and, honestly, neither do you when he’s involved.

five minutes later, you’re sneaking out of class, the adrenaline already starting to build as you make your way up the stairwell, heart racing. when you finally push open the heavy door to the rooftop, vernon’s already there, leaning against the rail, hat on backwards, that signature lazy grin spreading across his face when he sees you.

“thought you might leave me hangin’,” he teases, eyes flicking down to your legs as you walk up to him.

“you wish,” you scoff, rolling your eyes but feeling the heat rise between you two the second you’re standing next to him. the air up here is cooler, but with vernon looking at you like that? it’s making it hot, at least down there.

“so... what now?” you ask, though you know exactly what he’s got in mind.

he doesn’t answer right away, just steps behind you, hands sliding down your waist, squeezing your hips as he pushes you gently toward the railing. “bend over,” he mutters.

you hesitate for a second, glancing at the drop below you. “you want me to fall off this fucking roof?”

vernon laughs under his breath, stepping closer until his body presses into yours. “nah, i got you. promise.”

you roll your eyes but do as he says, leaning over the edge, gripping the metal railing for balance. your heart’s pounding in your chest, half from the thrill of getting caught, half from the fact that you’re so fucking turned on. and when you bend over, purposely sticking your ass out, vernon lets out a low whistle.

“goddamn,” he mutters, hands gripping your hips harder, fingers digging into your skin. “you always gotta tease me like that?”

“maybe,” you throw over your shoulder, a smug smile on your lips as you give your hips a little shake, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him.

“fuck.” he groans, and you can hear him fumbling with his belt behind you. the sound of the metal buckle makes your breath catch, and soon his cock’s out, heavy against your skin as he drags it along your entrance. he’s teasing you back now, taking his time, like he’s trying to make you beg for it.

“you want it?” his voice a little strained. you can almost picture the way his brows are furrowed, cheeks probably turning pink from how hard he is.

“you’re too fucking big to be playing games like this, vernon,” you shoot back, though the words come out breathier than you intended.

that makes him pause, his grip on your hips tightening, and when he finally slides inside you, you feel the stretch—god, you feel all of him. it makes you gasp, your fingers clutching the metal railing as your body adjusts to how thick he is, pushing in until he's buried to the hilt. vernon’s groan is low and drawn out, like he’s losing his mind a little, too. “shit. you—” he starts, voice hitching, “you feel so fucking good.” you moan in response, pushing back against him, and that’s all he needs. he grabs you by the waist, holding you tight—so tight you’re sure there’ll be bruises tomorrow—and starts fucking into you, each thrust rocking your body against the railing.

“hold on,” he growls, one hand sliding up your back to grip your shoulder, pulling you back against him, making sure you don’t fall forward. the metal of the railing digs into your stomach, but you’re too lost in the feeling of him pounding into you to care. your knees r weak, but vernon’s holding you so tightly that you don’t even have to think about standing.

“fuck, vernon,” you moan, turning your head to try and catch a glimpse of him. his jaw’s clenched, beads of sweat gathering at his temple, but when he catches your eye, he looks embarrassed for a split second.

you manage a smirk. “you’re—fuck—big.”

he blushes, actually blushes, but he doesn’t stop. if anything, he fucks you harder, grunting something that sounds like an unite of a complaint and a thank you. his hat’s still backwards, so you grab it, yanking him down into a sloppy kiss, lips crashing together as his hips slam into you, fucking you into the rooftop’s edge.

he pulls away just long enough to bite out, “we’re gonna get caught if you keep moaning like that.”

“then stop fucking me so good,” you snap back, voice shaky as he hits that perfect spot inside you.

vernon just grins, all cocky now, and mutters, “never.” with a deep thrust that makes you see white, angels and everything.

he doesn’t stop until you’re both cumming, bodies so in sync that you don’t even notice the footsteps until they’re too close. panic flickers in your chest as you realize someone’s coming—probably a guard—but vernon just pulls out quick, shoving you behind a vent as the guard makes his rounds. both of you are a sweaty, fucked-out mess, trying not to laugh as you adjust your clothes, and vernon gives you one of those signature smirks.

“guess we’ll have to finish this next time”

[artdcnaldson]

whoa imagine patrick and art teaching how you how to blow them next? and then they like take turns with you giving hands-on demonstrations of how they think you’d like to be touched and fucked and taken care of? it’s not exactly a competition but they both want to do better and make you feel better than the other so it kind of is

Yeah 😌🩷

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Patrick x Reader x Art throuple dynamics, blowjob lessons <3, guys being pervy little manipulating snakes (affectionately)

A/N: I’m obsessed. Everyone say hiiii sex lessons au. Unedited sozz

You get week of you jerking one or both of them off whenever you’re alone together until Patrick decides to test the waters.

“You can put your mouth on it,” he says, when you’ve taken him into your grasp, nice and slow while you kiss him the intense, hungry way he’d taught you.

Your eyes widen slightly, and he swears he can hear your pulse thrumming.

“Patrick,” Art says, a warning. He’s on the other end of the bed, trying his best to study for a midterm while his friend is getting jerked off three feet away. He’d sit on the floor… but he’s ready to hop off the bench the second you or Patrick invite him to play.

Patrick rolls his eyes in annoyance. Art was so fucking dense sometimes. He knew Art wanted it just as bad, probably more because he was so goddamn repressed. He knew Art always wanted the same things he wanted, no matter how depraved, or how embarrassed he was to admit it. “What? I think it’s about time she learns to suck cock.”

“Jesus Christ, Pat,” you say with a nervous laugh. His lips quirk slightly. He fucking loves how embarrassed you can get, how one dirty word makes you hide your face like a shy little virgin. You were shy, but he was working on that last part.

He grins, runs a thumb along your bottom lip. It’s slick with spit, swollen from kissing him. God, is it such a crime that he wants those lips wrapped around his dick? “C’mon, you’ll like it,” he says, brushing his lips along your jaw, right below your ear. “You like jerking us off, right? It’s even better.”

You nod, leaning back to meet his gaze. “Will you show me?”

Patrick glances over at Art, who has pushed his textbook and notes out of the way entirely. “You heard her, Art, come show her.”

“Jesus, you can ask,” Art says, face scrunched in annoyance. You know there’s know malice, though— he wants it just as bad. You shift off of Patrick’s lap and sit beside him, where you get the perfect view of Art between his thighs. He tugs the brunet’s boxers down his thighs, tosses them absently across the room.

“Pay attention, honey,” Patrick tells you. He runs a hand through shaggy blond curls, making sure you watch as Art places wet kisses to his tip. Patrick moans, impatient, but relishing in the way your mouth falls open slightly, how your eyes widen.

Art opens his mouth wider and slowly eases Patrick’s cock inside. It’s wet, messy. Drool spills from the sides of his mouth, down the length of Patrick’s cock. It gathers at his base, drips down his balls. You watch Art’s cheeks hollow as he takes him deeper, how his eyes fill with water.

Patrick’s fingers press against your lips, pointer and middle, seeking entrance. You open your mouth and let him push his fingers in— salty like skin and sweat. It isn’t until they’re in your mouth that you realized how long they are, as they slip towards the back of your tongue and your mouth fills with spit and you gag. Patrick withdraws his fingers, stringy with spit, and grins.

“Try again for me— try to take ‘em deeper.”

Patrick’s riding high— your lips wrapped around his fingers as he pushes them in and out of your mouth, Art sucking his dick like a champ— he can’t ask for much more.

“Are you paying attention to Art?” You gag slightly as his fingers nudge the back of your throat, eyes stinging with tears. You shake your head and redirect your attention. “Look how deep he can take me. You’ll be able to do that soon, won’t you?”

To demonstrate his point, he pushes Art down by the back of his head, makes Art gag and moan around the intrusion. “Use your tongue, baby.” Neither of you knows who he’s talking to, so you both follow the order.

He keeps both of you there for god knows how long— laving him with attention. Art looks right at home, lashes splayed against his cheeks, head bobbing as he works Patrick’s dick. And you, eyes wide and starry with the need to impress him, to take advantage of all he could possibly teach you. I mean, fuck, he could tell you to jump and you’d ask how high.

He lets his best friend bring him to the edge, feels so deliciously close that he loses himself in it.

“Fuck, Art—“ Patrick cries out, tangling his fist into the blond’s hair for purchase. “Your fuckin’ mouth is something else. C’mon, take me down your throat. That’s it—“

Patrick comes with a groan, spilling down Art’s throat. Art, to his credit, swallows down everything Patrick gives him before pulling back, lips swollen and slick.

Patrick slips his fingers from your mouth— strings of spit connecting the two. He wipes his fingers on your cheek, pats it twice before dropping his hand.

“Think you can handle Art?” He asks with a grin. “He’s smaller than me, it’ll be easier for your first time, huh?”

Art slaps his arm, hard enough to leave a mark. “By fucking half an inch you asshole.”

Patrick rolls his eyes with a knowing smile, but doesn’t dig. “Alright then, Donaldson, whip it out. Her mouth’s fucking watering for it over here.”

Art scowls, but the thought of you sucking his dick is enough to smooth over his mildly bruised ego. He makes quick work of shucking off his clothes and leans against the headboard beside Patrick.

God, someone should take a picture. You’re settled between his legs, on your knees so your ass is up when you bring your mouth to Art’s cock. Your tongue peeks between your lips and you give a few testing kitten licks to his tip.

He moans, soft and pretty. You feel hands in your hair, petting you almost. You blink lazily, peering up to look at Art as you place slow open mouthed kisses to his shaft.

When you take him into your mouth, you feel his grip on your hair tighten, just enough to make you gasp. He’s warm and heavy on your tongue, salty with precum.

Even going slow, you can’t manage to fit much of him in your mouth. You gag with each attempt to take him deeper, eyes watering before you pull off and gasp for air. They watch your valiant efforts, getting off on the fucking filthy sounds of you gagging on Art and the sight of spit spilling down his cock.

“Here—“ Art says, taking one of your hands to wrap around his base. “Just follow your mouth with that. You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

“First fucking time he’s ever had to say that,” Patrick says with a grin. Art punches his shoulder hard enough that the brunet yelps.

With your hand attending to what doesn’t fit in your mouth, it’s easier. Art’s so easy to get worked up— so easy to bring to the edge. Patrick’s mouthing at his throat, and Art tilts his head to grant him more access. He always complains after about the marks— Art always bruises easy, like a fucking peach. 

“Just like that,” Art praises. It doesn’t feel like you’re doing a great job, but he looks like he’s having a real fucking nice time. “Keep going, baby. Doing so good.”

“We’re teaching her, so teach her,” Patrick says after he grows bored of the slow, sweet head you’re giving the blond. Patrick’s hand moves to the back of your head, pushing you further down until your throat constricts instinctively and your eyes widen in surprise.

“I know you can take more. Just need some exposure therapy. Breathe through your nose— that’s it— good girl.” You will yourself to relax, to center yourself. He didn’t push you far, just enough that Art is brushing against the back of your tongue.

Your mouth fills with saliva, and you swallow around the intrusion, making Art practically whine. “F-fuck Patrick— let her up—“ he groans. It’s then that Patrick moves his hand, letting you pull up and get a large gulp of air. Your face feels hot, your jaw aches slightly.

Art brushes your hair from your face tenderly. “Keep your mouth open like that, okay?” You nod, let him rest the head of his cock on the center of your tongue. He replaces your hand with his own, jerking himself off quickly, methodically.

You nearly flinch as the first rope of cum hits your tongue— warm, salty, thick. You’re caught off guard by the sheer volume of it— you’d felt it coat your hand, but it’s different when it’s spilling directly onto your tongue. He’s panting as he finishes, and you’re left sitting with a mouthful of cum. You swallow it like bitter medicine, like you’d seen girls do in porn.

“How was it?” You ask Art.

“Good for a first try,” he says. “We’ll let you practice, get you ready for when you get boyfriend.”

A/N: Tashi incoming <3 imagine her reaction when she finds out these boys haven’t been making you cum 😵‍💫

[peachesofteal]

Cool girl

ghoap x female reader / 18+ warning: the boys are foul - could be considered dub con / part one / part two

Two (three) can play at that game.

"When you're done being a brat, call us."

You decide within a week, that you're very much not done being a brat.

And you're very much done with them.

Fuck them, you coach yourself in the mirror as you fix your makeup. Fuck them both. And her, whoever she is, though you know she doesn't deserve your wrath. She probably has no idea the tangled web she's walked into, she's the one stuck in the trap, now.

The doorbell rings, and you check your reflection one more time, satisfied with your dress, the way it gathers across your breasts, how it flatters your shape. It's a tad short, there's a bit of cleavage, little pieces that make it more than perfect. Something about this style, the way it fits, always drove the boys nuts, so it should be more than good enough for your date.

Fuck them.

You bring him to the dive. It's a safe choice, the bartender knows you, pays attention. You feel safe here, familiar. It's a great option for a first date.

And because you're a cool girl, you don't know how to play pool.

Of course, he's happy to teach you.

You start with a tequila. It scalds on the way down and settles like fire, but it takes the edge off. One turns to two, and it's enough to get you closer, allowing him to rest his hand on your knee at the bar, allowing him to keep a hand at the small of your back as he guides you to the finally empty pool table.

He's handsy, and normally, you'd be a little put off.

But not tonight.

"Okay, it's simple. You use the white ball to break." He lines up your shot for you, folding you into place, bending forward, hand brushing against your thigh as he leans beside you.

You intentionally short the shot, barely breaking the triangle of balls free. He chuckles. "Not bad for a first go."

"What do I get if I win?" Your smile is shy, and it's only half forced. You do like this guy, he's very nice, very attractive. Tall with a strong jawline, kind eyes. His fingers find yours, and his touch is gentle, patient.

"A kiss?" He ventures, testing the waters. You nod.

"Sure thing."

You're halfway through the game when the energy in the bar shifts. It's like everyone freezes, a collective whoosh of air washing through the bodies hunched over at the bar, loitering on the walls, perched on the wrought iron chairs out back.

The regulars look at one another and then return to studying the TV, or each other, their half empty drinks.

You don't need to look, to know.

You can feel them.

Apparently, so can your date.

"Don't look, but there are two guys staring at you, across the bar." You bat your eyelashes.

"Who?" It's innocent, this kind of play. Playing dumb. It's pure, until your chin turns over your shoulder and find them, white knuckled and focused, Johnny alight with anger, Simon stoic as ever. Sadness, and rage, roar inside your head, and you force yourself to look them in their eyes. Force yourself to be brave.

After a second, you turn away and into your date. He pulls you closer, palm resting on your lower back, mouth dangerously close above your ear. "Are they bothering you?" What a nice guy.

"No." You assuage immediately. You know what would happen, if he tried to be your knight in shining armor. You know how it would end.

With blood. Broken bones. And tears.

"Let's keep playing." You suggest. "Will you show me how to hold the stick?" Your teeth hold onto the last syllable, hand wrapping around the polished length of the wood, slowly moving it up and down. Your heart pounds, but a thrill rushes through you at the same time. Fuck them. Your date raises an eyebrow, mouth cocking into a sly smile, and nods.

After your third drink, you can't delay using the bathroom anymore. Skin tingling from all the places his hands have traversed, you're dizzy with the pulse of power, the high of your performance. It's wrong, and twisted but...

they deserve it. They deserve worse.

"I'll be right back." You promise, tracing a fingernail down his arm. "Get another round?" He trots off, eager to please.

The chairs scrape as soon as you turn into the dingy hallway, and their shadows fill the air, sucking it dry. You resist the urge to turn, palm flat against the swinging door of the toilets.

"What are ye doin'?" Johnny rages, and you turn to mouth off, only to jerk backwards at the realization of how close he is. You can count the flecks of gold around his irises, see the shimmer of cerulean blue. Simon stands at his back, a wall blocking out the rest of the hall, hiding you from view.

"I'm on a date." Simon laughs.

"You call this little show a date, sweetheart? Is that what you think that is?"

"Not sure you'd know what I'm like on a date since you never took me on one." You spit, and Johnny goes rigid, muscles hardening.

"Not sure that little boy would know the first thing about handlin' ye."

"Handling me?" The squeak your voice makes is embarrassing and incredulous at the same time. "Handle me? You think I need handling? I'm a full grown woman. I don't need-" He presses closer, close enough you can smell him, and your mouth drops open when he pushes you against the wall, cock hard under his jeans. "J-johnny."

"Aye, we think ye need handlin'. Ye're only supposed to be handled by us. Not by some sad wank who cannae stop droolin' like a dog."

"Stop." The resolve in your voice wavers, your resistance cracking and crumbling as Simon appears beside him, mouth pressing to your ear.

"You think that boy has a fat cock to feed you, sweet girl? Think he knows how-" One of them cups you between your legs over the fabric of your dress, palm grinding against your clit, and you grit your teeth against the friction, the moan it tries to pull from your throat. "to take care of this pussy?"

"She's high maintenance, ye know." Johnny snickers, lips dotting your cheek, down to your neck. He cups a fistful of your breast, thumb stroking where your nipple strains beneath your bra. "Ye think he'll be able to make ye gush for him? Make ye cum on his cock?" You're boiling, anger and desire feeding twin flames, trying to sputter out a response.

"What's going on here?" Your date practically shouts from the edge of the hallway, and Simon's grin turns feral. Predatory.

Fear strikes, and turns you cold.

"D-don't." You try to implore.

"Are you okay?" Your poor date catches your gaze, and you try to will him away with your eyes.

"Leave him alone." You plead.

"Fuck off mate. This is between us and our girl. Ye're done here."

"Excuse me?" He steps closer, and Simon pushes off the wall. Desperate, you latch onto his forearm.

"Simon, please. He's not-"

"He said you're done here." Simon snarls. "Run along like a good boy."

"Fuck you." He postures, and you shake your head frantically, trying to step out between them. Johnny doesn't budge, keeping you half pinned against the wall.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Maybe you'd like to watch us fuck her, after we make you beg for it. After we stretched out your neglected little hole." Johnny laughs, a cackle full of crow, smart and mischievous, and you nearly faint. Your date looks sick.

He takes one look at you, another look at the boys... and then flees. Johnny whistles. "Coward."

When they both turn back...

you burst into tears.

[tetragonia]

Midsummer's Heat

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

When your best friend, Rafe, takes you from the suffocating Midsummer party and leads you to a quiet tower just to ruin the friendship you two have.

warning: mmm nothing just slowburn smut bc i think i'll get my period in a few days lol. whatever they're having (kissing, fingering, penetrating) are consensual

words: 2.7k (i mean rafe literally talks you through it)

The hum of laughter and clinking glasses fades as you follow Rafe down a narrow path through the trees, away from the brightly lit Midsummer's party to a lounge tower. The crowd, the noise, and the pressure to act like the perfect Kook have been draining, and you’re grateful for the escape.

He turns to you with that familiar smirk, the one he always had back at the academy. You used to give him a hard time about that smirk. Now though, it brings back a flood of memories, and you can’t help but smile. He’s always been protective and gentle, all best friend material. Or maybe that could change tonight.

"All these years, you were never above all this Midsummer’s crap," Rafe says, crossing his arms as he leans back against the pillar, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that you feel in your bones.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "I am above it. I just thought it’d be nice to get dressed up and pretend, for once. But as soon as I got there, I regretted it."

He chuckles, reaching out to tug playfully at the hem of your dress.

“And this is how you protest Midsummers? By looking like... that?” His voice dips, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Shut up,” you mutter, though you don’t pull away. “Like you’re one to talk. You look like you were made for these ridiculous parties.”

“Guess we’re both hypocrites, huh?” he says softly, his tone uncharacteristically serious. You’re close enough now that you can see the way his jaw tightens, the flicker of something in his eyes that isn’t just amusement.

It’s almost instinctual, the way you move closer to him. Suddenly, you’re not sure if it’s the night air, the thrill of sneaking away from everyone, or just the warmth of his body next to yours, but your heart is racing.

"Rafe, remember how you used to skip out on these things back in school?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "We’d hide away and talk about how we’d never end up like all of them."

He nods, his gaze locked on yours, and his expression softens. “Yeah. Guess we lied to ourselves a little, huh?”

“Maybe,” you murmur, stepping even closer. His hand moves to your waist, lingering there, and suddenly, the air between you thickens. It’s as if something you’ve both kept buried for so long has come rushing to the surface, and neither of you is willing to push it back down.

The next thing you know, his lips are on yours, tentative at first, almost as if he’s testing the waters. But when you respond, threading your fingers through his hair, he pulls you closer, his kiss deepening with a hunger that sends a spark racing through your body. The rough bark of the shed digs into your back as he presses you against it, his hands finding your waist and holding you as if he’s afraid to let go.

You break the kiss, gasping slightly, your forehead resting against his as you catch your breath. His hand slides up, fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“You sure about this?” he asks, his voice low and ragged, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, breathless, barely able to think of anything other than the way he’s looking at you right now.

“Yeah, Rafe. I’m sure.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time, pulling you into another kiss, one that’s hungrier, needier. You can feel the heat building between you, the feeling of being utterly consumed by the moment. You don’t care about Midsummer, or the people waiting back at the party.

Rafe’s hands roam up and down your sides, drawing you even closer as he trails a line of slow, deliberate kisses down your neck. You tilt your head back, breath catching in your throat as he pulls you tighter against him. The world outside feels like a distant memory, the party, the people, and even the usual self-consciousness fades away under his touch.

Your eyes flicker open briefly, just enough to glance around the small space. It’s dark, and the shadows shield you both, but the thrill of sneaking away fills you with a sudden rush of uncertainty. You turn your head slightly, Rafe’s mouth never leaving your skin.

“Rafe,” you whisper, breathless, and he pauses, warm lips hovering against your collarbone. His eyes meet yours, a question lingering in their depths.

“This place… are you sure it’s safe?” you glance around again, your voice soft but with a hint of worry. “No one can see us up here, right?”

He leans in, his forehead brushing against yours as he gives you a reassuring nod, a small smile on his lips.

“Promise, this crib got those very thick mosquito nets,” he murmurs, his voice a deep, soothing rumble. “No one knows we’re here, and they wouldn’t dare come looking for me anyway.”

Satisfied, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and Rafe’s hands slide around to the small of your back, pulling you against him once more.

“Good,” you breathe, your heart racing as you feel the solid warmth of him against you.

He picks up where he left off, his mouth returning to the sensitive spot just below your ear, and this time, there’s a newfound urgency in his movements. His hands roam your body, each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake, and he’s so close that you can feel the rhythm of his heartbeat matching yours. You can’t hold back anymore, your own hands tracing his shoulders, pressing him closer as if you could melt into him entirely.

Rafe’s mouth finds yours again, and this time, the kiss is fierce, almost desperate, a shared longing you’ve both been holding back for too long. His fingers tangle in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, and you can feel the warmth of his breath, the roughness of his hands, the way he makes you feel completely and utterly alive.

His lips trail back to your neck, and as he presses you against the wooden wall of the shed. His hands glide down, hooking around your thighs to lift you up. You instinctively wrap your legs around him, his body pressing against yours with a delicious weight that leaves you dizzy. The world outside slips further away, nothing but shadows and whispers in the distance.

“Can’t believe it took us this long,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and breathless as he plants kisses along your collarbone, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress, his touch igniting every nerve.

Your fingers trace down his back, holding him close, letting the heat between you both build until you’re lost in the rhythm of his kisses, the warmth of his touch, the feeling of being completely and perfectly his, if only for this stolen moment.

He gives you a soft, reassuring smile as he leans down, gently guiding you to sit, his hands warm and steady as they hold yours. His touch is firm but gentle, every movement deliberate, as if he’s savoring each second with you.

“You comfortable?” he asks quietly, his voice low and soothing, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

You nod, breathless, your pulse quickening as he reaches out, his fingers tracing a slow path along your thigh. His touch is warm and delicate, a quiet promise of what’s to come. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand slipping lower, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Just tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, gliding his fingers down and tracing gentle circles that make you shiver, his movements slow and patient. You feel the warmth of his touch, the careful way he explores every inch, making you feel seen and cherished.

You close your eyes, letting yourself relax into the sensation, the softness of his touch and the comfort of his presence. You shiver, both from what he does and from the wind. Rafe still guides you through it, his hand steady and sure with eyes never leaving yours.

His fingers move in a circle, faster and curl deeper. They scratch you in the right place, stretching you open with blazing lust.

“Just breathe, alright?” he says softly, his left hand resting on your hip, holding you. “I’ve got you. It’s just us here.”

You feel his fingers move faster and he watches you, reading every response, adjusting his movements to make you feel completely at ease.

“Rafe, I—”

You couldn’t even continue, as Rafe plays faster. Your knees go weak, hands scratching the sofa. Your eyes flutter in an ecstasy.

“Yes, Sweetheart?” his voice soft, but also there’s a hint of a ragged breath. His desire starts to pool between his pants.

You feel the warmth of his breath as he leans closer, whispering words of reassurance, a steady presence guiding you through the intimacy of the moment.

“I—I’m about to—” you bite your lips, letting a soft moan into the night. “Rafe, I’m—”

“Don’t hold it, Sweetheart,” Rafe kisses your lips, leaving you shuddering as you finally collapse into his fingers. He smiles and looks proud.

“You’re doing so good,” he says, as he shifts and takes off his belt. You gulp, this is going to be the first time after everything. You’re ready to ruin your friendship with Rafe.

You watch as Rafe unzips his pants. His bowtie hangs loose, his suit lying somewhere. He moves on top of you, hands slowly tracing your inner thigh. You shudder.

Rafe bends down, spreading your legs even wider and kisses your right knee. And then the left one. And he gets closer to your inner thigh, kisses it tenderly.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?” Rafe looks up, lips parting. “I’ve been wanting this for so long, and now that you’re here… I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” you murmur, trailing your fingers on his hair, don’t even want to waste any second. “Show me just how much you’ve wanted this.”

“Yeah?” Rafe moves on top of you, pressing his lips on yours and letting you taste yourself. He groans softly against your lips, pausing for a moment to kick his pants and throw it somewhere. He stands tall in front of you.

You’re in awe. It’s so big, and hard. You’ve seen enough videos to know the perfect size, and this is more than perfect. Rafe walks closer, he helps you take off your dress, as you both need it no more. He throws it to the floor as you start to breath heavily, adrenaline taking you.

“It’s so big, Rafe,” you let out a shaky breathe when Rafe put himself between your thigh. He starts to caress your breasts with his fingers, bending down and kissing them slowly.

“I know you’d take it so well, Pretty Girl,” he takes his time to answer before sucking your nipples. His tongue moves in circle, biting it softly. You groaned and throw your head, feeling hot. And before you know, Rafe stands tall and closer, and starts to brush your fold with his tip.

“You’re so wet already, Baby,” Rafe groans softly, pushing it gently and starts to relax inside you.

“Rafe!” you moaned, in pleasure and pain. “I have never taken anyone before.”

Hearing your confession, you could feel it twitches. “I’d be gentle with you, Sweetheart. You’re taking me so well.”

Rafe starts to hump his hips towards yours, as both moaned in pleasure. Rafe kisses you, as your fingers digging his back and your legs squeezing his waist.

“Yes,” you gasp, starting to feel the rhythm. “Don’t stop. Please. Please.”

“You feel so good, you know that?” Rafe’s voice drops lower, a little rougher now, as his fingers trail down your breast. “I could do this all night.”

You fit around him like perfection, letting out whimpers when he hits the spot over and over until you’re worked up. As his touches grow rougher, his breathing becomes heavier, and he lets out a soft growl as he pulls you against him.

“You’re driving me insane, you know that?” he whispers, his hands gripping your waist firmly. “I can’t control myself when I’m with you… you make me lose it.”

Rafe growls softly, telling you how good you feel, you give him a mischievous smile, trailing your fingers down his chest. You feel his lips trail down your collarbone, his voice a low murmur against your skin.

“Eyes on me, Pretty Girl,” Rafe groans, and you force your eyes to stay open. It’s so hard when the pleasure tries to drown you. “You’re so tight and you’re taking me so well. Don’t hold back, baby. Let me hear you.”

You don’t leave his gaze, intense and full of desire. Even when your eyes flutter, you try to look at his pretty face.

“Come on, I want to know that I’m the one making you feel this way,” Rafe’s voice is both commanding and tender.

“Yes, Baby,” you try to keep your eyes open. “Oh, Rafe—”

You let out a moan, louder than before when Rafe thrusts faster, rougher. His movement fills with an unrestrained hunger that’s impossible to ignore, picking up his pace.

“Very good, Sweetheart. You’re all mine, got it?” he kisses you hard, his grip firm on your hips. “No one else gets to see you like this. Just me.”

Your breaths come quicker, your hands grasping at him, needing more as the world around you fades into a blur. The only things you’re aware of are his touch, his breath against your skin, and the steady, overwhelming connection between you.

In the quiet of the shed, hidden away from the world, Rafe holds you close, moving with you as if you’re the only two people left on earth. His hands are firm yet tender, as if he’s savoring this as much as you are. You feel yourself slipping away, surrendering to the sensations, the heat, the rhythm between you both that seems to pull you deeper into a place where only the two of you exist.

“I don’t think I could ever let you go… not after this,” he kisses you again, softer this time, but his eyes still burn with that undeniable need. “You’re perfect. And I want every inch of you.”

“Good,” you murmur, your fingers running through his hair. “I like it when you lose control.”

As you move together, you can feel Rafe’s breathing grow heavier, each breath coming faster, more ragged. His grip tightens, his hands slipping down to hold you even closer, as if he’s grounding himself in you. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes half-closed, his gaze flickering between desire and a raw, unspoken need.

He whispers your name, his voice low and filled with a quiet desperation.

“Baby… I’m… I’m so close,” he murmurs, his hand gently cradling the back of your neck as his lips brush yours. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, something soft and real that he’s letting you see, and it makes your heart race even faster.

He leans into you, pressing you closer, his movements becoming a little more frantic, more intense, as if he’s no longer able to hold anything back.

“Rafe!” you cry in joy when he bends, sucking your nipple roughly. As he leaves more marks on you, he thrusts faster, deeper, and needier.

“Stay with me,” he breathes, his voice breaking slightly as he loses himself in the moment. “Please… Baby, I’m coming.”

You hold him tightly, feeling him tremble against you, and suddenly it feels warm. You catch your breath, he does the same. As he finally lets go, you feel the weight of everything he’s kept hidden lets down just for you. It leaves you both breathless, completely wrapped up in each other.

And as he looks at you, his eyes filled with something you’d never thought you’d see—something tender and raw—you know that this is a moment you’ll remember long after Midsummer fades into memory.

[atlabeth]

take my breath away

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.

a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff

“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 

“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 

“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 

“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 

“You never did sports as a kid?” 

“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 

Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 

“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 

“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 

Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 

You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 

(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)

Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 

His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 

“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 

“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 

“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 

Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 

“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 

You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 

“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 

“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 

He nodded. “How’d you know?” 

“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 

Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 

“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 

“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 

“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 

“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 

He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 

“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 

“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”

“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 

“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 

Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 

You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 

“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 

For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 

“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 

You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 

When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 

“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 

“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 

Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  

“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 

“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 

“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 

Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 

“But my teasing’s okay?” 

He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 

“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 

His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 

“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 

“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 

“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 

Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

[jasvtsc]

dean winchester x angel!reader — first time.

warnings! mdni! smut. male masturbation. reader catching dean. female masturbation. mentions of oral (both m and f receiving). fingering. praising. first time. dean talking you through it. pet names. unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it). graphic language. dean has a breeding kink. grammar mistakes.

word count! 3.5k

you were just… so sweet.

so painfully sweet and innocent. and dean didn’t want to take that away from you. he wanted you to be that innocent angel, curious of everything as long as you could. without being scarred by an ordinary mortal like him. the fact you happened to love him out of all people still baffled him. but he wasn’t complaining since he was absolutely and utterly in love with you.

but then again, you were driving him crazy to the point where the ache in his pants was getting worse and worse, day by day, where now his hand wasn’t enough to satisfy him. at this point, he got cramps in his fingers and couldn’t squeeze them in a fist properly.

he needed you. badly.

and you were so oblivious to the effect you had on him. every time you brushed against his body. or when you were in his bed, curiously watching scooby-doo as you demanded he put it on since he told you it was his favourite show when he was a kid—and you wanted to know all his favourite things. or when you’d explore your boundaries, testing out some physical contact by randomly taking his hand in yours, tucking your head under his arm as you stood next to each other, cuddling together as you went to sleep or kissing.

christ, you were so adorable. he loved you so much.

and you were so good at stirring his cock to life, unaware of what was happening.

which was pretty much the reason for his current predicament. dean was making something in the kitchen, and as the curious little angel that you were, you came closer and snuck under his arm, so now you were placed between the stove and his body.

he inhaled sharply, his eyes widening as your plush ass rubbed against his crotch. it was enough for a red light to light in his brain, and his thoughts beginning to go haywire.

too close. too close. step back. step back, he kept repeating to himself.

but how could he possibly step away from you when you looked so gorgeous, just innocently trying to learn something new from your boyfriend? dear god, was he going to hell. again.

he looked down since you were shorter than him, which was a mistake. his eyes widened, and his mouth watered as he was met with the valley of your perky breasts, a deep cutout in your shirt doing only so little to help his fantasies.

not only that, but he did start wandering where you even get clothes LIKE THAT.

fuck, who was picking your clothes? stupid question, as if he wasn’t the one to do so.

the truth was that dean spoiled you immensely. now, instead of buying the newest copy of ‘busty asian beauties’, he was picking out some magazines for you to read. you’d look at all the pretty pictures—that’s what you’d call them, and point at clothes you liked. and dean would get them for you when you stopped by some shops. how did he know your breast cup size, though?

well, he was experienced like that. and he loved looking down at your boobs when you were sleeping in his arms.

anyway.

to complete the overall outfit, you were wearing those low-cut jeans that nicely accented your plump ass that he loved swatting as you went past him. and the way your white panties were sticking out just made him imagine his fingers slipping under the fabric and making it dampen as he—

he took a sharp breath. again.

dean took a step back after all, only to discreetly palm his crotch as he hummed some kind of response to the question you just asked him. however, he couldn’t think straight. so, making up some lame excuse, he kissed you on your temple and quickly went to his bedroom, sitting down on his bed and resting his back against the pillow, already propped up.

he rubbed the bulge in his pants, groaning at the feeling of his cock straining against the fabric. he couldn’t take it anymore. he fumbled with his belt and pulled his pants and boxers down, freeing his dick. his massive length sprung free, hard as a rock, already leaking beads of precum. he spat on his hand, not bothering to take the lotion out of his night drawer and started stroking himself.

he started off slowly, imagining that it was your delicate hand, your small fingers grabbing his dick for the first time, barely able to wrap around his girth. he imagined you gasping in surprise as you would start moving your hand up and down, letting him guide you through it, so you’d do your best to pleasure him. and you would—he knew it. you were such a good little angel for him.

dean groaned and squeezed harder, picking up the pace of his hand, his pants and moans getting more audible, but he didn’t care about it at the moment. now, he was imagining you taking him in your mouth. at first, you’d be too eager—you’d gag around him and quickly pull back with that sheepish smile of yours when you did something wrong. holy fuck. he’d reassure you, and then you’d try again, slowly, taking the tip first, gently suckling with your pretty plump lips he loved to kiss. then, you’d go lower and lower, your cheeks hollowing as you—

the door to his room slammed open, and his heart stopped. he widened his eyes and turned his head, seeing… you out of all the people.

fuck him (not that he would mind).

you entered the room with that godforsaken curious expression, closing the door behind you. then, you stood by the side of his bed, your head tilted to the side as you looked at him, blinking slowly, as if you didn’t notice his fat, messy cock, tightly gripped in his hand, with skin slightly reddened from the intense strokes.

“are you okay?” you asked softly, and dean wished that something could just kill him right now, his face as red as it could possibly get.

“yeah. why are you asking?” he chuckled nervously, quickly tucking himself back in his pants, even though it was painful at this point. god, he needed to cum so badly.

“i don’t know. you disappeared. and then you were panting and calling my name, and i thought something was happening and that you needed my help,” you just couldn’t be more innocent than that. “i was scared something was wrong,” you admitted shyly, fiddling with your fingers.

and gosh, he’d take your face in his hands if it wasn’t for one of them being covered in precum.

“hey, don’t worry, birdie. i’m okay. just needed—“ he sighed, straightening his back and trying to muffle a grunt. “some relief.”

“from what?” yeah, of course, you’d ask. your curiosity was picked up again.

“it’s nothing that you should stress your little feathery head with,” he smiled, adjusting himself, trying his best not to moan.

and you took a moment to look at him. you tilted your head as your eyes raked over his body, his twitching hand and the massive tent in his pants. you blinked a few times as that familiar feeling you didn’t know started pooling in your lower abdomen. ogling his groin, you rubbed your thighs together, and dean noticed that instantly.

so angels do get horny.

he swallowed thickly, his mouth practically going dry as he saw your face contorting in frustration as you swayed from one leg to the other, trying to get some friction between your legs.

that’s when dean decided that he wouldn’t leave you hanging like that.

“what are you doing, birdie?” he asked, licking his lips.

“i don’t know. i have this weird feeling in my belly,” you scoffed with a small pout. “like i’m excited or something.”

“that’s cause you are. you’re aroused, baby,” he hummed, reaching his left hand out to you. he hooked his fingers under the hem of your jeans, pulling you closer so you were now standing between his legs. he rubbed your hip and smiled softly. “do you know how babies are made?” a stupid question, but, he needed to know that you were aware.

“dean, i know what sex is. i just didn’t think angels could feel that. apparently they can, and i feel like that only around you,” you huffed in frustration while dean couldn’t be more ecstatic than that. you were horny only around him.

“well, have you ever done it?” he asked, almost breathlessly. it felt like the best day of his life.

“no. i didn’t have to,” this matter-of-fact tone only made the older winchester chuckle in amusement.

“birdie, it’s not something you have to do. it’s something you do to feel good. to have some fun with the person you love. it’s not some obligatory task, y’know?” he explained, squeezing your hip.

“like the pizza man?” you tilted your head to the side, and dean sighed. damn, cas, for showing it to you.

“exactly. like the pizza man,” a small smile on his lips as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on your stomach. “but my question is, do you want to feel good, birdie? do you want to do this with me?” maybe, after all, he’d take some of your innocence. but just a little…

you nodded your head, the ache between your legs only intensifying. dean smiled and stroked your cheek with his knuckles.

“good girl,” and then, he pulled you in for the kiss that couldn’t scream hunger any louder.

he was kissing you with a fervour that you happily returned, your fingers tugging on his short hair, making him gasp in your mouth. he’s tongue quickly dominated yours, tasting the familiar cavern of your mouth.

dean grabbed you by the nape of your neck, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling him. he grunted into the kiss, grinding his hips up into you. the massive bulge in his pants rubbed against your clothed heat, making you gasp so sweetly into his lips.

“fuck, i need you so much, birdie. can i have you?” he practically whimpered, looking into your eyes with so much desperation and pent-up feelings.

you smiled and nodded, placing a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

“of course, deano,” and it was enough to make him feel like he was on top of the world.

quickly, he spun you around, your back on the plush blanket as he made his way between your legs. his breath hitched as he fumbled with your jeans, slowly sliding them down. his eyes fell wide open, and he felt as if his heart stopped when he saw that your white panties were practically transparent from how soaked they were.

“you’re this excited, birdie?” he asked with a small chuckle, throwing your pants on the floor. he lay down on his stomach, right between your legs, looking at your dampened underwear as if it was the most beautiful sight in the whole world. “you’re so wet. for me,” he sighed, almost in disbelief.

meanwhile, you felt shy. you trusted dean, but it was something totally new, and you didn’t know what to expect. angels weren’t supposed to feel like that… at all. but then again, you fell in love with a human, so might as well go to hell with it.

dean started blowing on the dampened spot, his warm breath making you squirm, your thighs trembling. you tried to lift them up, bent your knees, but he stopped you, throwing your legs over his shoulders, scooting closer to your needy pussy.

“i didn’t know you were sensitive like that,” he chuckled and pressed a small kiss against your clothed core. you gasped softly, mindlessly moving your hips as if to grind against his face.

you were flustered and didn’t know what to do. which dean noticed and took it as his personal mission to make it feel good for you. he looked up at your reddened face with a soft smile, rubbing circles with his fingers on the soft skin of your thighs.

“i’ll make it so good for you, birdie. i promise,” he panted, and then, he practically ripped your white panties open. not that he was planning on getting rough with you—he just didn’t want to pull away from his new favourite place.

as soon as your pussy was bare to his eyes, he almost gasped in amazement. your pinky folds were covered in arousal, glistening deliciously as if to invite him to bury his face there. he brushed against them with his fingers, and then, slowly parted them open. he inhaled sharply through his nose as he placed his fingers on your clit, already feeling how swollen it was under his digits. he started rubbing it in soft circles, making you gasp and arch into his touch. jesus christ, it was like all his dreams came true in this moment.

“you have such a pretty little pussy, birdie. and you’re already so eager for me,” he muttered breathlessly, grinding his hips against the mattress as he was touching you.

his other hand moved to your entrance, his fingers probing it open, and then, he slowly slid one finger inside. you widened your eyes and inhaled sharply, sitting up and looking at what he was doing.

“shh, shh. it’ll feel good, baby. i promise. watch and learn so you can help yourself if i’m not around, okay?” he cooed, looking up to meet your eyes.

after receiving a nod of confirmation, dean continued. slowly, he started moving his finger inside of you, feeling your soft walls clamp around it greedily. fuck, he wanted to sink his cock inside you as soon as possible to feel you flutter around him, memorize his shape as it twitched eagerly inside of you, ready to spill his thick cum deep inside your womb, marking you as his. but first, he needed to prepare you for it.

then, he added the second finger, moving them in and out but also trying to stretch your tight hole for his dick. it could barely take in two of his fingers, so he was only imagining how tight you’d feel wrapped around his cock—which made it twitch painfully in his pants.

you were making such beautiful sounds—every shy groan, gasp or a whimper, sending him into oblivion as you watched him fingering you like a good little student.

however, as soon as he felt your walls begin to flutter around his digits, he slowly withdrew them, making you whine quietly at the sudden emptiness. he smiled and looked at you while his thumb was pressed against your swollen bud. “i know you want more, baby. but now it’s time for something better, and i want you to finish with me. but i’ll kiss that pretty pussy later and make you feel good again,” he promised, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as his thumb stroked your clit. you gasped and nodded, biting your lower lip as you looked up at him.

“i need you, dean,” you whined so pathetically that he felt he’d cum in his pants right at that exact moment.

he nodded his head, taking his clothes off at the same time, eager to sink deeply into your warmth. as soon as he pulled his boxers down, his cock sprung free, hitting his stomach. you widened your eyes curiously, tilting your head to the side as you watched it throb, precum leaking down from the tip. subconsciously, you licked your lips, your cunt only getting wetter. dean smirked cockily, getting between your legs once again.

“like what y’see, birdie?” he chuckled, stroking himself a few times, spreading the precum on his length.

then, he rubbed the tip of his fat cock against your dripping slit, coating it in your juices. finally, he nudged the head of his erection in your entrance, slowly pushing in, filling your desperate cunt. you gasped loudly, your eyes widening as you felt his cock stretching you out. with a whine, you leaned back on the pillow, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a few needy whimpers.

dean grunted, feeling your walls flutter around him, trying to accommodate his size.

“you’re so fucking tight, birdie,” he panted, slowly pushing forward, trying to sink in fully, just waiting for the moment his tip would brush against your cervix. one hand was firmly holding your hip meanwhile the other moved to your chest, giving your breast a firm squeeze as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, feeling it harden in his touch.

soon, he was fully sheathed in you, the tip of his dick pressed against your cervix, your walls stretching on his girth, already memorizing each throbbing vein. he looked down at you with a soft smile, stroking your hair as he moved some of it out of your already sweaty forehead.

“how are you doing, birdie? feels good?” he asked. he wanted to make sure that it was 100% pleasurable to you, and he’d stop as soon as he noticed even a slight narrowing of your brows.

you nodded, biting down on your lower lip. “yhym. y-yeah. feels good,” you sighed, slowly relaxing after the intrusion.

dean smiled and kissed you lovingly on your lips, beginning to move as soon as he felt that you weren’t so tense anymore. you gasped softly when he pulled out, the head of his cock still nestled in your pussy, and then moved back in. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your nails digging into his back, leaving dark crescent marks on his skin. he hissed and groaned in pleasure, picking up the pace.

“you drive me crazy, birdie. feels so good. so wet. i should’ve put my cock in you a long time ago,” he moaned, his hips beginning to slam against yours, the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the walls along with the sound of your pussy eagerly slurping him in.

soon, he was pounding in and out of you, your lovemaking echoing obscurely to the point it was heard outside of the room, and you just imagined the look of exasperation on sam’s face as he pondered over getting some earplugs. but it quickly disappeared from your mind, your focus landing back on dean and his cock, basically splitting you open.

he threw your legs over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your thighs as this new position allowed him to go even deeper. you were holding onto the headboard, moans leaving your mouth nonstop, and as he hit that sweet spot inside of you, you almost screamed, clenching around him.

“you’re gonna cum? huh, birdie? cum for me,” he panted, thrusting into you even harder.

you yelped pathetically, feeling a knot forming in your lower belly, your body tensing up as it was preparing to fall over the edge.

“yeah, that’s it. cum for me, angel. you’re so pretty. fuck, i love you so much,” he panted, freeing your legs and just holding your thighs as he made you wrap them around his waist. then, he leaned forward, crashing his lips on yours in a desperate kiss.

and that was enough to send you over the edge. you clenched around him and then relaxed as your juices started gushing out on his length. he helped you come down from your high. however, his movements faltered as he was close too. he shortly followed after you, stilling in your cunt as he spilled thick ropes of his pearly seed inside your warm womb.

he drew out your climax and finally slumped down, resting on top of you. he cradled you in his arms, his head resting between your breasts as his soft cock was still nestled inside of you, your mixed juices dripping out, creating a mess.

“god, you were amazing,” he said, kissing the side of your breast. however, you quickly slapped his arm, making him hiss and raise his head at you, a small pout on his lips. “ow, what was that for?”

“don’t say his name now!” you huffed, your cheeks red as if you were caught doing something inappropriate. dean chuckled and lifted himself up, peppering your face with kisses.

“okay, okay. i won’t,” he murmured, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, just basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.

after a while, he pulled out of you, watching his cum drip out of you. he smiled proudly and scooped some up with his thumb, pushing it back inside.

“just so nothing goes to waste,” he hummed. “we’re definitely going to do it more often from now on,” he grinned at you, studying your face. “you’ll be full of my seed every day.”

and once again, you had that curious expression on.

“can we do it now?”

dean was flabbergasted with how quickly you had recovered. but then again, you were an angel, and his dick was already hardening.

who was he to deny his little angel?

a/n: i didn’t expect it to be so long lmfao😭lmk what you think<3

༄♡ tags: @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @a1ecmcdowell @figthoughts @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @deansbite @10ava01

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi can you write something for Logan? I don’t have anything in particular in mind, but I never see this man get any love. Thanks!

NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB! Reader

Hope this is okay! I tried so hard to post it last night but tumblr kept failing on me. It wouldn't even save as a draft! If you see this before I've added the meat to the fic, it's because I'm testing because tumblr is being a dick and I'll edit in the good stuff soon.

Edit: Yay! It worked! I was just uploading too much at once I guess. Had to brake it all down for it to work!

Tw: MNDI!! pnv, fem reader, creampie, size difference, petnames. Praise kink.

If you asked him personally, Logan would say he's extremely unlucky, cursed even. and With everything he's gone through, he might be correct. But still, he is certainly blessed in at least one aspect.

Logan had a really, really nice cock. It wasn't pretty like the perfect ones in porn, but damn, was it nice. It has prominent veins that you couldn't help but spoil every time you your hands (or mouth) on him. He was flushed a deep red color at the stip, and proportional, a good 5 or six comfortable inches.

The only thing is, Logan's cock was thick. impressively, deliciously thick. When the two of you started to take your relationship to the next level, Logan didn't hesitate to warn you. That didn't stop him from Taking care of you though. He'd pump his thick fingers in an out of you, curling and stretching you, finding the most pleasure spots inside of you to get you to cum and cum hard.

But every time the two of you would get close to going further, he'd back out. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable, or that he didn't want to, he just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you.He'd always end up saying “ ‘next time, sunshine.” Or “Just wanna make sure I take care of you properly.” and although it was sweet, you knew what you could handle, and you were determined to climb this man like a tree.

And if there was anything Logan knew more than anything, it was to never get in the way of a determined woman.

You had spent what felt like hours in Logan's sheets, his fingers curling deep in your cunt, stretching and touching the most sensitive parts of you. He kissed every tender part of you, letting you writhe and moan underneath him. He wanted to make sure that you were ready for him beyond a shadow of a doubt, knowing how stubborn you are when you really want something. This was no different. And after Cumming twice on his fingers, you were sure you could make it work. Logan sighed as you straddled him, grinding his cock against your slick cunt to try and lube him up. He sets his hands on your thighs, comfortingly caressing the plush skin. The two of you gasp when his head brushes against your Clit, an electric shock of pleasure bolting through your bodies. Logan is laid back against the pillows on his bed, looking up at you with a heated gaze.

“ ‘you okay there, doll?” He asks, the words rumbling through his chest with a groan. He smirks just barely as you scoff, adjusting yourself on your knees as you line his cock up with your slit.

“I'm- fine, I can do this.” You huff, grinding down against his thick head. Logan sucks in a breath as you do so, teeth latching onto his lip as we watches you desperately try to take him. He's not going in as easy as you thought he would, and it almost makes you feel discouraged. You were so sure you could take him, and you didn't want to quit now. Your eyebrows furrow as you struggle, and at some point his cock slips out and away from your hole. Logan lets out a grunt as you flinch, mortified.

“Ah- Sorry.” You're doing your best to not let it get to you, but there was such a sinking feeling in your chest. Almost as if he can sense it, Logan reaches up, taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finder and tilting your head down to look at him.

“It's okay.” Logan assures you. “Just relax. You'll get it.” His thumb drags across your lip, calloused hand brushing against your tits as he brings it down to your clit. He circles the nub gently first, then with a tad bit more pressure. You hear him chuckle as you eyes flutter closed, moaning at the pleasurable sensation.

“okay.” You sigh, trying to align himself with you once again. You try it a little slower this time, grinding down with just enough pressure. The both of you gasp when the head of his cock notches against your slit, an improvement from before. Then, almost suddenly, it slides in.

“Fuck.” Logan grunts. His cock was hardly halfway inside, but that didn't stop the moans you let out at the pleasure- and slight discomfort- of having him inside you. The stretch was slightly painful, but you can't seem to stop yourself from grinding against him, trying to take him further.

“Logan…” The whine of his name comes out involuntarily, and the strong man inbetween your thighs shushes you sweetly, adjusting himself so he's sitting against the headboard. He brings you closer to him, snaking his hand around the nape of your neck to bring you into a kiss. He hardly gives himself time to breathe in between kisses. Logan bites your lip, licking into your mouth when you gasp at the painful pinch. He groans when you clench around his length. Still not quite adjusted to what you could fit, and his hand grabs hold onto your thighs and squeezes.

“I know, sweetheart.” He says, finally pulling back. “I know. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere.” You bite your lip, leaning your head on his shoulder as you begin to move your hips again. The process is slow, sinking onto him inch by inch as your body adjusts to the girth, but when you finally feel the base of his cock finally sink into you, you've never felt so accomplished.

“Good girl.” Logan grunts into your ear. “ ‘did such a good job.” You yelp a little as his hips jerk, thrusting up into you. You cry out Logan's name, holding onto his shoulders as he starts to slowly pull out of you, gently thrusting back inside as he cups your face, kissing you gently. It feels good. Like he's rubbing against every spot inside of you perfectly. His slow, loving pace felt good, so, so good. But it could only keep the two of you satisfied for so long. The next time Logan pulls out of you, you slam down with a little more force. He lets out a choked moan, before you hear him chuckle. He pulls away from you just slightly, arms wrapped around your waist as he smirks at the needy look on your face. You're impatient however, and grind against him sharply when he stops moving. A flicker of pleasure flashes across his face before he's growling. He pulls you against him, pressed flush against your body as he begins to thrust more aggressively.

“Couldn't be patient, could you?” He growls. Your noises are embarrassingly loud as he picks up speed, fucking into you just like you had spent so much time imagining he would- and he was right too. You couldn't be patient. He moves his hips just slightly, hitting that one spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You can't help but cry out, and without having to even tell him, he's hitting thay spot over and over again without fail. His grunts and groans are starting to get louder, and you can feel the knot in your stomach coming so close to snapping.

“Fuck- Logan!” He groans at the way you say his name, the knot snapping as you reach your peak and cum hard on his cock. He curses, burying his face into your neck as he starts to crumble at the feeling of your warm walls fluttering around him, desperately trying to milk him for what he's worth. He almost lets out a whine as he cums, and the noise surprises you. You can feel him twitch as spurts of his cum warm up your insides. By the time he's done, you're sure he must be leaking out of you. You lay against him, boneless as the two of you pant for air. Logan begins to press gentle kisses against your neck, praising you for how well you did. You sigh, content. Logan lays the two of you down on the bed, holding you close as his cock starts to soften inside of you.

Logan Howlett was definitely blessed.

[hiraethwa]

kageyama tobio isn’t normally so possessive. impatient. 

but tonight especially he feels his control fray rapidly, like a spark of fire consuming everything in its path, blazing through his sanity. 

he nurses a drink by the corner of the room, gaze pinned on you and the man you are talking to in hopes of securing his investment for your project. “be nice,” you had told him, bringing him as your date to this fancy gala event for your work. of course he is immensely proud of you, who had climbed the ranks rapidly to become one of the youngest associate directors in the history of your company. 

though unfortunately, that also means dealing with men who are used to getting their way and fending off their shameless advances despite the gold band that sits securely around your ring finger.

if the man who is currently flirting with you unsuccessfully is the fire to his senses, then you are the flint that sets off the sparks that quickly razes it to the ground. he really shouldn’t have let you leave the house like that—bejeweled heels gracing your feet, further emphasizing your commanding stature that draped in satin fabric. fuck.

tobio slides his gaze over to the man, only to find him already looking at him with a smile. oh, i see how it is. 

he feels his eye twitch at the audacity of men as he makes his way over to you, his instinct to mark his territory taking over any shred of reasoning that was left. 

“hey,” tobio greets you, hand moving to rest on the curve of your hips without thinking. 

you nail him with a look that he loosely translates to ‘don’t forget what i told you’. he sighs internally before turning to the man you were talking to, offering his hand in introduction. “kageyama tobio, nice to meet you.”

a strange sensation floods his mind temporarily, before tobio identifies it as envy. not envy over him flirting with you—he has learnt how to ignore men’s attempts of advances on you, like you had learnt how to brush them off and turn the conversation in another direction. 

tobio blinks at the man, realizing just how pretty he is.

“excuse us for a moment.” you smile sweetly at the man before pulling him away from the event hall. 

you take a few turns into an alcove hidden from prying eyes, that sharp gaze of yours making his blood boil just a few degrees higher. 

so commanding and alluring, and you’re his.

he pays your surprise no mind, backing you up against the upholstered wall and dropping his head in the crook of your head, breathing your addicting scent in. 

“tobio, w–” your breath hitches, confidence stuttering for a quick second as you feel his lips on your neck, trailing kisses down the length of it before returning to the base, latching on the spot he knows so well and sucking. “what are you d–doing?”

“marking my territory, what do you think?” he retorts, hand roaming up from his strong grip on your waists. traveling up, up, fingers ghosting over the underside of your breasts before continuing on their journey. 

you wait, breath abated, as his hand—fuck, those hands that make you lose your mind from how well they know your body, your weak spots—just grazes over your nipples, separated by the satin fabric that you chose, knowing full well it would drive your husband insane, your own choices now coming back to bite you in the ass.

a whimper leaves your lips, lips that he intends to leave swollen by the time you step back into the hall, at the lack of attention, when he would normally torture you with pleasure, rolling the pink buds between his skillful fingers. 

his hand comes to a rest cupping the side of your face, thumb brushing over your plump bottom lip, and your lips fall open instinctively. you gasp at the possessiveness in his eyes, as he experimentally gives the hair gathered into an updo at the back of your head a light tug, testing the waters. 

tobio’s own heart betrays him, accelerating at the sight of you being so pliant before him. he thinks he surprises even himself, when his own lips part involuntarily, the word falling from them, “suck.” 

he slips two fingers into your mouth, rationale really leaving him this time, as you obey him without hesitation, your soft tongue lapping at the pads of his fingers before applying pressure to do as you are told. 

“f–fuck. look at you, being so obedient.”

tobio bunches the smooth satin fabric around your waist with his free hand, “hold it up for me, like the good girl you are, hm?” you nod, unable to speak with your mouth occupied by his fingers, obliging his request with shaky hands.

he withdraws his fingers from you with a soft pop!, digits trailing south towards where you need him the most. he nudges your squeezed thighs apart with his knee, you trying to resist ever so slightly before giving in to his desires with a heated look from him. 

his thumb pulls the fabric of your panties out of his way, fingers immediately feeling the wetness that has pooled there. he teases your folds lightly, ghosting over your clit, leaving you breathless and begging for more with your doe eyes. 

“what is it?” tobio leans in towards you, his lips so close and almost on yours. you whine, chasing his lips but he is quicker, moving away before you can catch him. 

“t–tobio, please.” he nods in encouragement, fingers slipping through your hair again, tugging you open for him to slot his lips over yours, enveloping those sinful lips in a needy kiss. 

he smiles into the kiss, as he feels more than hears the vibrations of your moan resounding through him when he plunges two fingers into you at the same time. 

gods, tobio doesn’t think he would ever feel like he got enough of this, of you falling apart before him, heavy and messy kisses exchanged between you, as he desperately tries to get more of you, lips tender and swollen as he presses on, showing his heavy need for you through his kisses, teeth tugging at your bottom lip. he never does.

his fingers move on their own accord, pressing lightly against your spot before withdrawing fully, and returning to your warmth which envelops him fully, flooding his senses. 

tobio gathers your moans into his mouth, dampening the sounds that overflow into the dark hallway just in case of any passersby, frowning slightly at the thought of strangers hearing the muted whimpers that are only for his ears. 

he pours that possessiveness into his ministrations, fingers rubbing relentlessly against your sweet spot, as you break away from his lips for air. your mouth falls open into a silent broken moan, eyes rolling backwards, seeing heavens itself, as you come apart on his fingers. 

this. tobio admires the sight of you falling apart for him. this is for his eyes only. 

you whine at the loss of his fingers sheathed deep in you as he leaves you empty, unfilled, adjusting your panties back in place.

“later, that is, if you are being good,” tobio reminds you as he licks his fingers clean, his pocketsquare being put to use as he wipes off the slick on your thighs gently before moving on to his own hands. he stuffs the ruined fabric into the pocket of his pants.

you blush, head falling against his chest to hide your embarrassment, tender silence wrapping around you as both of you attempt to gather your wits. 

“ready?” tobio noses the curve of your ear once your breathing pattern returns to normal. you take his extended hand, letting him pull you along back to duty, checking your hair in the reflection of a mirror as you pass by. 

your mind wanders to the man that prompted your husband’s sudden possessiveness just as you arrive at the doors. “you know, the man i was talking to? i was actually fending him off from you.”

tags. @daisy-room @bakery-anon @hatsukeii tobio nation. @hiraethwa @shouyuus @yogurtkags @mcdonaldsnumberone a/n. ohhhh i had so much fun with this, lightly edited <3 (yes i did lose my last shred of sanity)

[dizzyjaden]

✧ GENSHIN MEN CRUSHING AND CONFESSING ✧

Pairings: Kaeya, Xiao, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Diluc, Albedo, Scaramouche x gn! Reader

♤ Summary: Hcs for how various characters go about crushes~ ♤ Warnings: No major warnings mostly fluff, Scara's kind of a jerk though. ♤ A/N: Omggg first real post! Reblogs would be greatly appreciated <3

Kaeya:

When Kaeya meets you, he is first enamored with your appearance. Therefore, the route he takes is confidence and directness to flirt with you, he never once hides his attraction. His sultry voice and brief comments about how infatuating you are to him tend to extract these wonderful little giggles from you. The sound never grows tired on his ears, nor do they fail to make his heart swoon.

Kaeya does not realize it at first, but your effect on him becomes stronger swiftly, and makes him rather clingy. He finds himself unable to focus on the tasks of the day and merely looks forward to seeing you. He follows his urges and seeks you out, passing through your most frequent spots in hopes of 'accidentally' bumping into you. When he finds you, he will spend as long as he can stalling for your time. Asking you questions about your day, showering you with compliments, whatever he can do to keep you talking to him without appearing too desperate. He would usually see idle conversation as a bore, but anything is interesting as long as it's your voice that's talking about it.

It's natural to be wary of Kaeya's approach. While his flattery is nice at first, you notice that his inviting posture and half-lidded gaze does not disappear when he is speaking to others. It makes you wonder if you are as special to him as he's led you to believe.

Put off by this, you brush off his efforts. He is confused by your indifference and his demeanor begins to melt rapidly. He seems nervous now when the two of you are conversing, even blushing and avoiding eye contact with you. Being rejected by someone isn't what scares him. Being rejected by you is.

It is noticeable, people often tease you about what a lovesick puppy you've turned him into, snickering about how they've never seen the slow walking, smirk wearing, calvary captain of Mond so stuttery and fidgety around anyone. It is difficult to stand firm on your previous notion that "he is just that way with everyone." Perhaps he does deserve a chance after all.

Kaeya has mostly retired his earlier mannerisms with you, not wishing to make you uncomfortable. That is until, you throw an unprompted flirtatious comment towards him.

It is experimental and casual on your part, but it successfully shakes him to his core. He realizes then and there he cannot let another day pass without you being named as his partner. This routine of playful flirting is as far as he would typically take it when interested in someone, it was the most enjoyable part to him anyways. But with you, it just felt torturous and drawn out. He craved so much more.

As assured as he appears on the surface, Kaeya is not very good at expressing himself romantically. He does not want to risk everything just yet, so he believes the best course of action is simply asking you out for drinks.

You are still not entirely sold that Kaeya will take care of your feelings, but you agree out of curiosity and give him the chance to prove you wrong. He is overjoyed at your answer and becomes rather excited, he quickly has to catch himself and snap his careless attitude back on, but you saw his eagerness.

For a while you are testing the waters with Kaeya, keeping him taking you on little dates and you are quick to learn that there is a lot more to him than meets the eye. There is a certain serenity, a content air about him when you are together, as if he felt everything had fallen into the right place. The way he looks at you is different than when you first met. It feels as though he truly sees you now.

Finally, you are the one to offer a romantic relationship to him. He has been waiting for you. He knows you have been hesitant, so he's intended to allow you to harness control.

His answer is not a word or agreement, but rather a glint of joy in his eyes, quickly followed by a kiss. When you reciprocate, he knows he finally managed to snatch your heart. How thrilled he is for tomorrow.

Xiao:

Loving you to Xiao is similar to being a cat on a marble floor. He is completely unacquainted with emotion as a whole, so when this stomach tightening, face warming, posture stiffening feeling begins to hit him, he is justly at a loss.

He absolutely despises the feeling, to him it translates as nausea or sickness. Why, you gave him an ailment! How dare you! And to think he still yearns for proximity with you.

That is another thing he despises, ever since you met the adeptus you are always begging to spend time with him and he just can't help but agree. You seem to find much comfort in his presence, he isn't sure why. His conversational abilities are stale, his tone pessimistic, his liveliness is nonexistent. Mortals have never connected with him the way you have, which only makes sense because it's absolutely fruitless.

But there you are, always asking him questions about himself that confuse him. Why did you need to know his favorite color? He didn't have one. They were colors, useless visuals.

You are a strange mortal, and so easily charmed or manipulated as well by the smallest of things. Perhaps that's the reason he ends up taking on such a protective role to you. He is always worrying himself sick about you. A pure spirited person like you is just bound to find themselves in trouble.

Despite the amount of inconvenience you cause him, he finds himself feeling so privileged each time he gets to be around you. He's aware mortals often express gratitude for one another, and his way of doing this is by giving gifts.

They are small gifts, flowers, leaves that are intricately folded into three dimensional shapes, crystals, whatever makes him think of you, really.

He doesn't expect validation for his attempts and the way you react each time catches him off guard. All smiles and hurried words of gratefulness, sometimes you pull him into a tight lung crushing hug, which he just hates of course. But he'll allow it. You're only putting yourself at risk choosing to be so close to him.

Something about you makes him need more of you. Every day he finds himself wondering about you, if you will come find him. He catches himself watching from the rooftops of Wangshuu Inn, waiting. Hoping?

And you're always right on cue. This gives him a sense of stability and routine, which was never important to him before. But now he feels safe in a way. It makes no sense to him, he's protecting you, not the other way around.

It takes him a long time to consider the possibility that he does enjoy your company, that this ailment, this curse you've put on him, is actually just his emotional response to you being nearby. When he identifies it, he isn't sure what to do with it. He's aware that humans like to put labels on each other to signify their connection, but he knows so little, he's too unwilling to ruin what is already there. Friendship with you is better than nothing, even if he feels the urge to just attack you with physical contact each time your hand grazes him.

He takes his time opening up to you about his feelings and desires, dropping small tidbits to enlighten you when you speak to one another. You manage to figure it out before he's really given you a proper confession, but you want him to work through it slowly, so you say nothing until the day he finally outright says it.

"I believe I am... Falling in love with you. So, what happens now?" Hopefully, you're willing to guide him through it?

Tartaglia:

Tartaglia really never expected to become so obsessed with you. His initial interest comes from your abilities in combat. He enjoys sparring with the people that are more similar to him in strength, it helps him improve. You're perfect for this. An equal opponent to help him boost his own abilities is all he saw at first.

What he feels during these sessions with you is pure thrill. He sees your relationship as equally matched opponents who agree that there is nothing to lose and everything to gain. Fighting you is never predictable, you are strangely good at catching him off guard. He becomes easily addicted to the feeling of freedom that comes with fighting you, the ability to let go accompanied by the trust that you could hold your own even if he did take it a bit too far. Soon enough, he's borderline pestering you for more and more matches.

Something he slowly finds out is that the two of you share a specific chemistry. The trust you build on the battlefield with one another fuels your comfortable compatibility. Being around you is just easy. The first time his feelings for you begin to rise, he notices immediately.

Just a certain angle of you, and he... Felt something. He knows it, too. This is when his pursuit for you begins. It is rare for him to have free time, and the majority of that is already occupied with your sparring sessions. So, he has to sacrifice a few of those to instead ask you to spend time with him in a more casual way.

He demands you clear your morning plans to get coffee with him, and you agree. Why not? You don't know much about Tartaglia other than his go-to defense techniques.

But oh, how hopeless he is. Tartaglia has never had a romantic partner before, too consumed in his work to care all that much. He gives you horrendous pick-up lines the entire morning until you beg him to stop. He thought he was doing so well, too.

Fortunately, you're more skilled with words than him and you manage to bring the flow back by distracting him with topics you believe are of interest to him. He is comfortable around you, and prefers casual conversation, so he will indulge. Slightly embarrassed by your reaction to his crude attempt at flirting, he decides it may be best to leave it be the way it is.

Determined nonetheless, he continues to hog your calendar with little meetings, he is transparent and unimpressive, which thankfully comes off as quite adorable to you. You've never seen him in this light before. You enjoy teasing him. However, there is only so much he can take before he has to finally state that he is in love with you, and needs to know if you reciprocate.

Begrudgingly, you accept his feelings, although you are disappointed you no longer get to keep him on his toes, his victorious smile makes it worth it.

Kazuha:

Kazuha is the textbook definition of carefree, when he develops feelings for you, he immediately accepts them and continues to live on contently. Whatever happens, happens! His behavior around you does not change in the slightest aside from going out of his way to be near you. Other than that, it's almost unnoticeable.

His reasoning for not confessing anything to you is plain and simple. He does not wish to put you in an uncomfortable position when he is not sure if you even want the same things he does. He isn't scared of being rejected or losing you, he just genuinely does not want to stress you out. He doesn't want to apply pressure to you, he just wants to bask in your radiant existence as much as you'll allow him. No worries, being just friends is good enough for him if it means you can live undisturbed by his inconvenient feelings of affection.

Kazuha has always been in touch with his emotions, more so than the usual person. He subtly expresses his feelings for you with poems and words of affirmation, he likes to make sure you know exactly how wonderful you are. But he never oversteps or puts too much of a spotlight on you.

Because he is just a romantic at heart, it's easy to assume this may just be how he expresses friendship. He's aware that he comes off that way, which is another reason he's so willing to give you so much affection and praise. He does like you, and he wants to show it, but he knows it's not out of character for him to behave this way.

Where his feelings for you really shine through is how protective he is. He doesn't like the idea of you travelling anywhere alone and usually offers to accompany you everywhere. He has faith in your capability to defend yourself but he finds comfort knowing he will be there if needed.

Kazuha always has good ideas when it comes to spending time with you, they are likely to involve nature. He knows where all the best places are, hot springs, water falls, fields of flowers, certain spots where the sunset looks just perfect, you name it, he'll take you there.

He enjoys giving you his attention, but even just being in the same room while the two of you are focused on separate tasks is equally enjoyable to him. He likes that there is never awkwardness or tension between you. Just an easy companionship. You understand one another without trying.

Kazuha only confesses his feelings to you when he's certain you want to hear about them. Whatever way you may choose to let him know, he'll act fast to ensure there is no confusion. He sees no thrill or excitement in allowing you to remain oblivious, and is very content telling you directly when he feels you have given him enough hints. It almost feels too easy, which is exactly what he intends. He doesn't want to see you struggle with your own feelings for even a moment.

When Kazuha officially enters a romantic relationship with you, he takes the transition very slowly to keep you comfortable. He does not immediately start smothering you in affection. It's a slow and steady process. It's not that he doesn't want to kiss you at any given moment, he just prefers that you take the reigns in that area so he's always certain it's what you want to do.

When you are with Kazuha, you can always trust that he will listen to you and cater towards your emotional needs. He is just so in love with you.

Diluc:

Diluc grapples with his feelings for you for a while, assuming they will just come and go. He is not the most knowledgeable about relationships and worries about his ability to be a good partner to you even if he does act on his feelings.

The idea of romance isn't something Diluc is a stranger to, but it's never been on the forefront of his mind. Charming and handsome as he is, it is only natural that he's been approached in the past by people hoping for a chance with him. He's never explored with any of those people, it just wasn't something he really wanted to do. But, you changed things. He catches himself imagining a relationship with you, wondering what it would be like to be with you in that way. The longer it goes on, the more painful it becomes.

When he's no longer able to deny his feelings, he takes a very polite demeanor. He's truly a gentleman, it's difficult for you to remember the last time you opened a door for yourself in his presence. If you happen to visit Angel's Share, you can rest assured you're never going to have to pay for anything.

Getting complimented by Diluc is rare, truthfully he just doesn't know how to phrase things. When he does compliment you, however, it's always genuine and heartfelt. Something about your manner, the way you carry yourself, your resilience, things like that.

Ensuring you are safe is the most important thing to him. He will always voice it loud and clear if he believes you are in an unsafe situation. He doesn't want to cross a line so he will only help if you ask him to. If you do happen to need his help with something, he will have it taken care of very quickly.

Diluc does not care to give you sugary compliments or be vocal about how you make him feel. He is more subtle than that. His affection for you is shown through how he remembers little things about you that might go unnoticed to anyone else, reminds you that he is there for you if you ever need him, never fails to show up for you when you do.

It takes a while for Diluc to gain the courage to tell you how he feels, but when he does get fed up pining after you, he is careful with his choice of words. He wants you to know that even if you reject him, he will still be there for you no matter what. You not reciprocating his feelings for you will not change your importance to him.

He genuinely does not expect you to reciprocate his feelings. When you do, he isn't sure what to do. He didn't have that part planned. He becomes a flustered mess on the spot but ultimately manages to pull himself together and swears his devotion to you.

Adjusting to a relationship with you seems to come naturally for Diluc. While he's internally awkward and so unsure most of the time, he becomes comfortable with you quickly as he realizes you do not judge him for this whatsoever. He is satisfied and feels secure knowing that there is nothing to prove anymore.

Albedo:

Albedo is not head over heels with you right off the bat. It takes a long time getting to know you before he feels anything. Of course, there was always something unidentifiable about you that interested him, but that's as far as it went until now. He isn't sure what exactly gave him this emotional response to you, but he's very curious about it.

Albedo is interested in humanity as a whole. He sees his emotions more akin to resources for his research rather than necessary tools to operate in society. So, when this crush on you blooms, it's an experiment to him. Obviously, he's going to need your assistance. He very boldly and plainly states that he is having these feelings and needs your help identifying and exploring them. It's the first time you've ever seen him clueless.

Explaining the concept of having a crush to him is nearly impossible. More often than not, crushes come out of the blue with no single explanation for them. Something about this he just cannot wrap his mind around.

It's a mission, but Albedo eventually gets it. Love, a sensation he had always pinned on biology seems to be much more emotional and complex than he could have ever anticipated. He reluctantly accepts your embarrassed explanation as truth. When he learns that you reciprocate his feelings, he is confused once more. Why didn't you just tell him? Nervous? Why? He insists you tell him when you feel something significant towards him so you two can conduct your research easier.

Albedo often takes notes about how certain things you do makes him feel. When you hold his hand, his face gets warm. When you laugh, he feels as though he is in a trance and forgets where he is. When you respond positively to his affection, he's eager to do those things more. Everything you do elicits a new reaction from him, it's all worth writing down.

He loves learning new things about you. Now that you've managed to put him in this position, it's like you are the most interesting thing in the world. What makes you the way you are? What crosses your mind the most? What is it about your favorite things that you like so much? Tell him everything in excruciating detail, please.

Albedo likes to share his interests with you too, when you offer to work with him on something involving alchemy, he is overjoyed. He likes to tell you about the ins and outs of everything involving life. He always wonders what you will think. Sometimes, you give him a new perspective on it that makes him reflect. He likes that about you. His work is usually rooted in science and logic, so it only makes sense that logical is the mindset he's lived with. But you bring such interesting ideas that he's never considered before.

He's realized he may be more out of touch with the world than he believed. If he did not know what love was before he met you, what else did he not know? Because of this, he will stay open minded and always consider your point of view when making emotion-related decisions.

For as long as you are with Albedo, he will always have something to learn and grow from. He sees you as very important to him in this way and will do his best to make sure you are content and happy in the relationship.

Scaramouche:

Scaramouche believes he has one purpose in this world. Divinity. If he is to invest himself in something, he better be getting one step closer to godhood in the process. His feelings for you are not necessary, he can't get anything of value out from them. That's the way he sees it. What irritates him is how badly he wants to indulge. Emotion is the very weakness that caused him to be cast out by his creator from the start. He isn't about to easily succumb to his emotion once more when his mission is the electro gnosis. But it is so very difficult to resist when you're around.

It's pretty much all up to you to initiate anything. It's challenging. The first time he saw your hand inching closer to his, he snatched it away immediately. Ever since these feelings of his emerged, every time you try to catch him when he's not busy, hoping to spend some time with him, he runs. He actually runs. He makes no attempt to hide it, either.

He knows if he spends too much time with you, his feelings will only grow. Allowing you to hold his hand or be near him is a slippery slope he's not willing to try. Why won't you just leave him alone? Why must you make it so hard for him to overcome his crush? Take a hint, already.

Eventually, you actually do take the hint and stop pestering him for his time. Good! Now he can focus on other things... Except he can't because now he's panicking over possibly having lost you. What if he hurt your feelings? No, he doesn't care about your feelings. You only ever annoyed him anyways. But for some reason thinking about it just stings.

Scaramouche realizes that one person causing this much trouble for him is absolutely unacceptable. You always being nearby was bad, but you leaving him alone is worse. He isn't going to allow you to steal his heart and then run for the hills, no way. He demands that you spend more time with him. You are flabbergasted, but he's glad to hear you agree.

Overtime, Scaramouche becomes more nervous about you. He grows attached to you and nearly everything he's grown attached to in the past abandoned him, it continues to haunt him to this day. He yearns for your affection, but having it would make the fall so much harder when you ultimately leave him behind. However, he's already so far in. He wonders if having a good thing for even a moment would be better than torturing himself over it instead.

With that, he tells you how he feels, how it's all your fault he's such a mess now, and that you need to make it up to him by being his partner. He's not surprised when you accept his feelings. It's the very least you could do, of course.

Over the span of your relationship, you'll notice how clingy Scaramouche is. It's like if you are not in his sight for even a moment, you're probably dead somehow. He'd never admit it, but you can tell he is paranoid and desperately requires reassurance. He's honestly kind of pathetic but he's yours.

Scaramouche remains unmoving on his theory that you will abandon him someday. He's been through it too many times to fully trust you straightaway. You're just gonna have to prove him wrong.

[hoshifighting]

hii can you plsss do college fling!joshua too (with smut if you like!) thank you <3

warnings: smut, dorm-kitchen counter sex, clit stimulation, penetrative sex, dirty talk, teasing.

college fling!joshua’s definitely not the type to be found at some wild frat party, shirt half-buttoned, shouting about shots. he’s more… chill. like, you can see him with a small group of people, maybe talking about some obscure trivia fact or just hanging back with his guitar, strumming casually. and you notice him in those quiet corners, head down, minding his business, but when people need help, he’s there, no hesitation. just this soft smile, eyes that look like they’ve got their own glow. no front, no ego.

it’s karaoke night when you really notice him, though. one of those lowkey, “organized by the student council” kinda nights, where everyone’s already a little awkward, shifting in their seats, waiting for someone to break the ice. and there’s joshua, sitting off to the side, fingers tapping lightly against his leg to the beat of some old song. you’re not even surprised when the karaoke machine starts acting up, some tech issue, because of course, it would. you glance over at joshua, who's already looking around for someone to fix the damn thing. you try messing with the settings on the machine yourself, but the screen flashes error messages, and honestly, you just wanna punch the damn thing. you groan under your breath, “seriously? i’m not dealing with this shit right now.”

“need a hand?” joshua’s voice pulls you out of your frustration, and you turn to see him standing there, that soft smile of his doing most of the talking. like he’s amused at your mini-meltdown but too nice to say it.

“yeah, this thing’s giving me hell.” you lean back, giving up for a second, hands raised like you’re surrendering to the machine. “you know anything about fixing this?”

“nah, but i can try,” he says, stepping in a little closer. and you can smell him—fresh, like he doesn’t even have to try. just naturally… clean, if that’s a thing. his fingers brush the buttons, the machine beeping a little, but still refusing to cooperate. he chuckles under his breath. “guess it’s not in the mood.”

you smirk, feeling the tension ease a little with him around. “yeah, technology’s a bitch sometimes.”

“always.” he laughs, this soft, almost shy sound, but then his gaze lands on the guitar sitting by the stage. “y’know… if this thing’s not working, we could just do it old-school.”

you raise a brow, curious. “old-school? like… live music?”

he nods, picking up the guitar like it’s second nature to him. “yeah, i mean… it’s karaoke night, right? we’ll make our own music.” there’s something about the way he says it, all easy and laid-back, that makes you wanna go along with it. he’s not pushy, but you feel pulled in by his vibe. the room’s already a bit more relaxed, people chatting amongst themselves, so you shrug and sit back on one of the chairs in front of the stage. “alright, hit me with your best shot.”

he laughs, adjusting the guitar strap, and then strums a few chords, testing the waters. it’s a familiar tune, something simple and nostalgic, and he hums along softly, almost like he’s figuring out the right words to sing. and when he finally starts, his voice is buttery smooth, like it was made to just slip into your ears and settle in. it’s not showy, not overly polished, just nice. like something you didn’t know you needed until you heard it. you can’t help but watch him, a little too closely maybe, as his fingers move over the strings, his body swaying a little with the rhythm. his eyes flick up to yours, and for a split second, it’s like the room disappears. there’s just you and him, and this stupid little connection through music. cheesy as hell just like the barbie's movie says, but it’s there.

“you wanna sing along?” he asks, like he’s already expecting you to say no, but he’s hopeful anyway.

you bite your lip, half-laughing. “if i do, i’ll ruin the vibe.”

he tilts his head, amused. “nah, you won’t. c’mon, what’s your go-to song?”

you hesitate, feeling a little exposed, but then screw it. if joshua can stand up there and casually play a whole damn song in front of people, you can at least join him. you mutter the name of some old song, and before you know it, he’s playing the first chords. you start singing, a little unsure at first, but his guitar backs you up, makes you feel more confident.

and it’s weird, ‘cause it’s so not what you expected to be doing tonight—singing a duet with joshua hong of all people. but here you are, the two of you vibing, making the room your own little bubble for a while.

after a while, you stop caring if anyone else is even paying attention. it’s just fun, and you’re actually enjoying yourself, which… yeah, is rare for these kinds of school-organized things.

“see? not so bad, right?” he says, a little breathless, guitar still in his hands.

“yeah, i guess that wasn’t too bad,” you admit, feeling your face heat up a little.

and just like that, you’re kinda hooked. you don’t even know why, but there’s something about how easy it is with him. he’s not forcing anything, just letting shit happen, and it’s fun. more fun than you’ve had in a while, honestly. “thanks for, uh… saving karaoke night,” you say, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel.

he shrugs, smile never leaving his face. “anytime. but, um… maybe next time, we won’t need the machine at all.”

and there it is again, that little spark of something—like he’s leaving the door open for whatever comes next. not pushing, not expecting. just waiting to see if you’re gonna step through.

you smile back at him, feeling your heart beat just a little faster. “yeah… maybe.”

college fling!joshua that would approach you with his shy ass in the hallway like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. ‘cause he wasn’t the type to just walk up to someone and invite them over. you weren’t expecting it either. but there he was, scratching the back of his neck, trying to play it casual like it didn’t take him a full two minutes to get the words out.

“uh… i’m having a few friends over on friday. you know, snacks, music, nothing crazy. you should come.”

you remember his smile, that little tilt of his lips that had your stomach flipping like you’d already said yes before your brain could process. and obviously, you agreed.

so friday night rolls around, and you’re standing in front of his dorm in this fresh little dress you threw on last minute. not like you’re trying to impress him or anything, but you catch the way his eyes drop the second you step in. joshua’s trying to keep it together, but you can feel his gaze like a burn, lingering on your legs before he quickly looks away. there’s this subtle hitch in his breath when he greets you, and his cheeks turn a little pink, but he pulls himself back into being the polite, nice guy he is.

his dorm’s small but neat, smelling like fresh laundry and some subtle citrus scent from the diffusers he’s got stashed in the corners. there’s a few of his friends scattered around, all of them chill, chatting over music that’s playing just loud enough to vibe to. joshua’s close-knit group, not the party type, exactly what you expected. he’s quick to make sure you’ve got everything—“you want a drink? water? soda?”—and then asks if you need a blanket when he notices your legs.

“you good? it’s a bit chilly, i can grab something if you want.”

you almost laugh at how hard he’s trying to be respectful, like the thought of your legs exposed is messing with him more than he’s willing to admit. but you shake your head, leaning back on the couch with your drink and teasing him a little. “i’m fine, joshua. don’t worry.”

he gives you this awkward smile like he’s low-key relieved, but you see him still trying to fight his instincts to look.

after a couple of hours, his friends head out, leaving the place a little messy—empty cups and snack wrappers scattered on the table. you’re quick to start picking things up, despite joshua’s protests.

“seriously, you don’t have to clean up. i got it.”

but you insist, throwing away trash and stacking cups, and before you know it, it’s just the two of you alone in his small dorm. the quiet settles in, just the low hum of music in the background, and you notice how much more intense it feels without anyone else around. joshua’s hovering by the window, glancing out towards the campus, and then he shuts it without saying anything, locking the latch with this quiet click.

“just in case,” he mutters to himself, not looking at you.

you’re leaning against the counter now, arms crossed, watching him. there’s something in the way he’s moving slower. like he’s waiting for you to make the next move. but you don’t, ‘cause part of you wants to see where he’ll take it.

joshua turns, finally meeting your eyes again, and it’s different this time. there’s no one else here, no distractions, and he’s got that nervous energy radiating off him. “thanks for, uh, staying to help,” he says, his voice softer now, stepping a little closer.

“no problem.” you smile, and it’s so obvious what’s happening, but neither of you is calling it out.

he’s standing in front of you now, closer than he was before, eyes flicking between yours and then down to your lips. it’s subtle, but you catch it, and it’s like that’s all the signal you needed. your heart’s racing, but you stay calm, lifting your chin just slightly as if daring him to do something.

and he does.

slowly, almost like he’s scared to break the moment, joshua reaches out, one hand finding your waist, his fingers hesitant at first. then he pulls you in, just enough that there’s barely any space left between your bodies. you feel the warmth of him, and when he leans down, his breath ghosts over your lips.

you can tell he’s thinking about it—overthinking, probably—because he pauses, eyes searching yours, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. but you don’t. instead, you close the gap, brushing your lips against his. he lets out this shaky breath, and suddenly his hands are on you, one cupping your face, the other steadying your waist. he deepens the kiss, slow but knowing, like he’s taking pleasure in every second. his lips are warm, soft, but there’s this need in the way he moves.

your hands find their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. he responds by pressing you back against the counter, not forceful, but enough that you can feel the solidness of his body, everything intensifying.

“is this… okay?” he mumbles against your lips, his voice low and breathless, and you swear the way he asks, so fucking polite in the middle of a heated kiss, makes you want to open your legs for him even more.

“yeah, joshua,” you whisper back, pulling him in tighter.

his lips are still on yours, but there’s nothing sweet about the way he’s kissing you anymore. “turn around.” your breath catches because the tone’s different. he’s not asking now, he’s telling, and the sudden deep voice is doing things to you. so you turn around, heart racing, hands bracing yourself against the counter. you feel his body press up behind yours, and his hand, slides down your waist, squeezing, as he grinds into you. it’s slow, teasing, and already you can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

“fuck, joshua…” the words come out in a breathy gasp, ‘cause honestly? you didn’t expect this from him—not the shy guy who asked you to his dorm like it was some casual hangout.

“sorry,” he breathes out, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “can’t… fuck, i can’t help it.”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay steady, but he’s not giving you the chance. his other hand comes up, gently pushing your back down until you’re bent over the small counter, ass pressed right up against him. you’re not even sure how it escalated this quickly, but fuck, you’re not complaining.

then you feel him, fingers brushing against the hem of your dress, pulling it up to expose more skin, and his hand lands firmly on your ass. not too hard, just enough to make you gasp, your body arching a little further into him. “you okay?” his voice comes out breathy, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s fighting to hold back. and before you can even respond, he’s slipping a hand between your legs, fingers ghosting over your clothed heat, and you swear you hear him let out this needy ass moan, “fuck, you’re already so wet.”

you nod, holding back a whimper, pushing back into him for more. but he doesn’t rush it. his fingers slip under the fabric, pressing right where you need him, just enough to make you moan, and he chuckles—this soft, wicked sound that makes your skin burn.

“such a good girl for me, hm?” he mutters, his breath hot against your ear now as his fingers start rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit. he’s not just pressing down; he’s moving in these subtle little zig-zags, shaking his fingers side to side, making your legs shake from how fast they are. it’s like he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to get you off, without giving you too much too soon.

you whimper, your back arching even more as his other hand slides up your back, then gently wraps around your throat. and it’s not hard, not really, but just the feel of his fingers there makes your mind go blank, and you moan, “joshua, please.”

“please, what?” he whispers against your ear, and his voice is so soft, so sweet, but his fingers on your clit are ruthless, moving faster now, leaving you sensitive enough so you can feel every inch of him after. “you gotta tell me what you want sweetheart.”

you let out a desperate moan, pushing back against him, “i need you to fuck me, joshua.”

you can feel him tense up behind you, and he curses under his breath, hands moving quickly now, yanking your panties down. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back as he fumbles with his belt, and you’re so on edge. the second you hear the metal clink of his belt hitting the floor, you’re already bracing yourself, because you can feel it—the way he’s lined up behind you, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing you, driving you insane.

he pushes in slow at first, but you can feel how fucking hard he is, stretching you open inch by inch, and it’s so much, so thick that you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. and joshua’s not saying anything, but his breathing’s ragged, and he lets out this low, drawn-out moan, like he’s trying to hold it in but can’t help himself.

“f-fuck,” he groans, his hips pushing in deeper until he’s fully inside you. he pauses there for a second, like he’s savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, and you hear this desperate little “ahh!” leave his lips, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.

and you? you’re clenching around him, your body so fucking desperate for more. you try to move, but his grip tightens on your hips, holding you still. “no— fuck, no” he mutters. “lemme just… ngh.. fuck, you feel so good.”

then he starts moving, almost like he’s teasing you, his hips rolling into you in these deep, measured thrusts. but it’s not enough—you need more, and you try to push back against him, but he’s got you locked in place, his hand still around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure that has you gasping.

“joshua, please, more. i n-eed more!” you beg, words sounding more like a whimper.

his grip on your throat tightens just a little, his fingers flexing as he starts thrusting harder, rougher, his cock slamming into you with this wet, filthy sound that has you both moaning. his hips snap into yours, relentless now, and he’s fucking you like he wants to be engraved on your mind.the polite, careful joshua you thought you knew is missing, replaced by someone who’s desperate to ruin you.

he leans forward, his lips right against your ear as he groans, “you like this, huh? you like how i fuck you? hm? can you feel how your pussy 's swallowing my cock?”

and you can’t even speak at this point, just a mess of moans and gasps, your hands gripping the counter so hard that your knuckles hurt. all you can do is nod, your body trembling with every hard thrust, your clit throbbing as his hips grind into you.

then his hand leaves your throat and slides down between your legs again, fingers finding your clit, rubbing those same zigzagging from earlier, but this time faster. your legs nearly buckle, a scream leaving your throat and you're sure he's going to have a problem with his dorm neighbours later, and he’s moaning in your ear now, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking tight, i’m not gonna last long.”

you’re shaking, so fucking close, and you can feel him getting sloppier, his thrusts losing rhythm. his fingers press harder against your clit, now moving in these frantic little circles that make your body explode with pleasure.

“cum for me,” he groans, his voice all breathy and wrecked. “c’mon, baby, i wanna feel you cum around my cock. wet me all over, come on…”

your orgasm hits you before you can even take another breath, your whole body contorting as you cry out, legs tremulous beneath you. you clench around him so tight, and joshua lets out this filthy moan—“oh fuck”—his hips slamming into you one last time before he’s spilling inside you, groaning loud as he rides out his orgasm.

he’s the first to move, pulling out slowly, nearly timidly, and you hear him mutter something under his breath—probably apologizing, because of course he is. you push yourself up from the counter, your legs still shaking, and turn to face him. his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and there’s this sheepish, almost embarrassed look on his face, like he can’t believe what just happened.

he smiles, a little shy but still clearly proud of himself. and then, just like that, he’s back to being the joshua you know—sweet, considerate, polite—offering you a towel and asking if you’re thirsty again, like he didn’t just fuck you into oblivion against the counter.