cupidysm

[cupidysm]

I want motherfucking magic in life. I want romance. I want peace. I want beauty and softness. I want love and warmth.

[cupidysm]

absolutely beautiful

finished the MK/Venom sketches, might turn them into stickers :3c

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I was just reminded season 2 of Moonknight was cancelled so I needed this.

Goldfish for everyone :D

[cupidysm]

YES LORD 🙏🙏😩

amazing news for the bisexual community

"oscar isaac" "kristen stewart" "vampire" "thriller" "80s" ???? please

[cupidysm]

Sorry to blorbo your text post, but it was so perfectly in character.

[cupidysm]

God someone hold me down I’m convulsing.

No because me too girl

[cupidysm]

so uh

[cupidysm]

AFHREXVJOONFWWSADGHY THIS IS TOO GOOD. Oh my god 😭

Tú Sabes

Summary: After inhaling a mysterious powder on a mission, your life is put on the line.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+, sex pollen, multiple partners, rough sex, cream pie, Plan B, tad bit of cockwarming, oral sex (fem receiving), cum eating, overstimulation (brief), they’re all head-over-heels in love with you. Minors DNI.

Dividers can found here.

A/N: Translations will be at the end. Please be aware they’re not always word-for-word translations, but meaning/vibes based. I’m like decently confident in my very basic Spanish here, but I’m not fluent. So if you see anything wrong, let me know.

“I told you not to come.”

Maybe you should have listened to Marc. If you had, you wouldn’t have been in that stupid warehouse looking for some stolen relic they had been hired to find. They didn’t need your help, not really, but you just had to go. And Steven couldn’t say no to you.

If you had listened to Marc, you wouldn’t have got caught in a gunfight. You wouldn’t have been next to some stupid ancient sealed jar set on a shelf. You wouldn’t have breathed in the strange yellow powder when it was hit by a stray bullet.

Getting out of that warehouse and back to Steven’s flat was a blur. It didn’t take long to start feeling the effects. The heat. Gods, the fucking heat.

“Could you not do the ‘I told you so’ speech right now?” you groaned, fanning yourself as you sat in front of the fan. “Wait until I’m dead at least.”

“Oye, that’s not very funny, is it?” Steven glared disapprovingly, a look you didn’t quite catch through your half lidded eyes. “We don’t even know what you inhaled! You very well could die!”

Sweat was beginning to drench your clothes. “It’d be a relief at this point.”

There was a huff you recognized as Marc’s.

You peeled yourself off the floor. “While you boys are busy being offended, I’m going to go stand under some cold water.”

They watched you walk towards the bathroom, averting their gaze as you began to pull off your shirt before you’d even made it. Neither of them could understand how you were so nonchalant. They were terrified. You had only been in their lives for a short period of time and they weren’t ready for that time to come to such an abrupt end.

A deep rumble of a laugh pulled the men from their shared worry. Their glares focused on the giant humanoid skeletal bird sitting on the bed who had finally decided to show up after they’d called to him a dozen times.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Marc growled.

“Mortals are so weak. A bit of copulation powder a few millennia past its expiration and they’re on the verge of death.”

“Expired what?”

Khonshu sighed. “Maybe Steven isn’t the idiot.” The god appeared next to the window, seemingly staring into the distance. “That powder was pollen from special lotus flowers Hathor bloomed for some fertility festival after a harsh plague. One whiff caused a rather long orgy in the palace.”

“So she inhaled some old horny dust? That’s it?” Steven relaxed. Better than anthrax.

“Yes, she should be perfectly fine after she gets it out of her system.”

Marc could have hugged the god. You would be fine. “Great, that’s great! How long should it take to run its course?”

“Oh, Marc you are the idiot, aren’t you? She needs to fuck someone for it to get out of her system. Otherwise she’ll die.”

Marc’s gaze locked on the bathroom door as Steven’s voice cried out, “No! There has to be something else. Can’t you, can’t you speak to Hathor? Get a remedy?”

“There is a remedy,” Khonshu stated. “Fucking.”

Steven met Marc’s gaze in the mirror. They had done this to you. If they’d just made you stay behind you wouldn’t be on the verge of death. Marc turned to glare at Khonshu. “You need to go speak with Hathor and find a cure. Now.”

“I’m not going to waste my—“

“Saving her life is not a waste,” Marc growled.

Khonshu bellowed, “It is a waste of my time.”

Marc’s hand curled into fists before Steven folded his arms across his chest. “Alright, you stupid pigeon, what do you want?”

There was a long silence that stretched as the god seemed to contemplate before his shoulders sagged. “I am sorry, Steven. But it would be a waste of time. There is no other cure. She needs to fornicate with another human or she will die.”

Steven continued to argue before his obscenities turned to pleas. He had to save you. He had to.

“He’s telling the truth,” Marc interrupted, stone faced. “He would have made a deal with us even if he thought there was the slightest chance he could save her."

"So that's it, then? We either let her die or we go in there," his finger jabbed towards the bathroom, "and force ourselves on her?"

Marc couldn't meet Steven's eyes in the mirror. "We'll give her that choice."

"It's not a choice! She can't make a choice under the influence of some millenia old sex pollen!"

Marc snapped his attention to the mirror, stepping closer. "So we just let her die?" He hated it as much as Steven did. More. If had put his foot down, kept you out of this life like he wanted, kept you at a distance, kept you safe...but he hadn't. This was his fault. He couldn't let you die. Not you.

“You should make a decision soon. If you won’t save her, a bullet would be kinder than letting her suffer.”

Steven spun on his heel, but the god was gone. Their gaze fell to the bathroom door. The water was still running.

"Pinches pendejos."

—

The water did little to help. The freezing water splattered over you as you slumped to the bottom of the tub. Your eyes squeezed shut. Everything hurt. You'd expected a bit of a fever, maybe an ache, but no. Body wracked with pain, every cell aflame, and a throbbing between your legs that had only been heightened when you'd let your fingers wander. Your head fell back against the edge of the bath.

A touch on your shoulder made your eyes flutter open. You barely suppressed a whimper. They kneeled beside the tub, face uncharacteristically impassive. Through the pain it was difficult to tell which of them it was. "I-it's not helping," you croaked, head lolling to the side. "I feel like I'm burning alive."

Fingers trailed up your neck, your thighs pressing tighter together to relieve the ache. "The dust you inhaled was an ancient aphrodisiac.”

Your mind struggled to process the words, too caught up in trying to place the accent. "Dust...aphrodisiac?"

"Khonshu confirmed it. Hathor made it from some flower," their voice dropped, eyes falling away from your face. "The only way to get the pollen out of your system is to fuck. Either that or die."

The world you’d found yourself sounded ludicrous. A year ago you’d never have believed some sort of sex pollen could exist. You’d just been on vacation in London when you’d turned down several wrong streets one night and accidently stumbled into a fight between a man dressed in a white suit and a few comically accurate bad guys in black masks. They’d thought they’d use your mishap to their benefit, trying to leverage your life for their swift escape. But unfortunately for them—and fortunately for you—they were men who didn’t see the benefit in wearing cups to protect their tender bits. Steven’s excited babbling about it after had Marc’s concerned outbursts in between feel like whiplash. But a magical suit change made Steven and Marc’s situation a tad less outlandish. If a whole pantheon of ancient gods existed and had avatars running around, sex pollen wasn’t out of the question.

Your body felt too weak to move, but your lips still twisted into a lopsided grin. "Are you asking me to sleep with you?"

"I'm giving you the option," they clarified.

You could have laughed if you weren't in pain. “What are my options, exactly? Sex or death?"

"Yes."

The bluntness wasn’t Marc's usual sort and the accent didn’t belong to Steven. Maybe it was just the pollen confusing you. Your head lulled to the other side, eyes closing again. The fingers climbed higher, palm cupping your cheek. Sex or death. What a terribly difficult question. "And you’ll do it?“

“Yes.”

Your hand covered his. "Okay."

The world shifted. Lifted from the tub with water still beating against the porcelain, he held you with ease. Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you let out a relieved groan. The contact alone lessened the pain. “Yo sé. Cuidaré de ti, amor,” he whispered with a kiss to your hair. His clothes grew damp as he carried you to the bed. Gently, he laid you down on the mattress.

Your hand fisted in the front of his shirt. "Who are you?"

His lips spread into a taut line. "You know who I am."

"You're not Marc and you're not Steven. They don’t speak Spanish." If sex pollen could exist, so could a third. Your hold relaxed. "So who are you?"

He was quiet for a moment before he responded. "Jake."

"Jake," you repeated, letting your hand press against his chest. "Are you here because they didn't want to?"

"They were stuck on the morality of it and taking too long to decide.” He took your wrist and pulled it to his lips. It’s the faintest of brushes across your skin, but it had you near breathless. “I’m not patient enough to wait for them to come to the same conclusion I already have.” His fingers trailed up your forearm. They continued to your shoulder and traced along your collarbone. When they brushed across the base of your neck you let out a choked whimper. He shushed you. "Yo sé, amor.” His hand curved around your neck and pulled you to him. His kiss fanned the flames, pain consumed by need. Lips rough, impatient, he drank in your desperate breaths like a man deprived of water. When he broke away, you chased after him. Fingers gripped his hair, tugging him back.

You wanted more.

Needed more.

Your nails scraped across his scalp, over his shoulders, down his back, and pulled at his shirt. It was discarded quickly. His lips moved to the side and traieled kisses along your jaw, nipping at the curve of your ear. You let out a soft cry when his teeth sunk into your neck. Hands wandered. Bites and scratches had you squirming beneath him, moaning for more. There was a moment where he pulled away and you nearly cried in frustration. But he was back quickly, pulling your legs apart and pushing the head of his cock into your soaked cunt.

He didn't start slow. Didn't take his time. You didn't want him to. His pace was punishing, fucking into you like it was his life on the line. Fingers dug into his shoulders, back arching off the mattress, cries and pleas pouring from your lips.

"That's it," he rasped.

Your hips rolled, meeting his thrusts, wanting more. He was relentless, biting and sucking along your neck and shoulders. Digging his fingers into your hips, he pulled them closer.

"Jake," you sobbed. It was almost too much. His pace quickened, the sound of his hips slapping against yours nearly drowned out your whines. It was too much. Your nails dug into his back as you came. He slowed but didn't stop, fucking you through the waves. Jake, Jake, Jake. His name became a prayer on your lips. As your body calmed he began to pull out.

But with the high fading the pain returned.

"Fuck," you hissed, eyes screwing shut.

The weight above you disappeared. "Amor?"

"Hurts," you ground out. Your hands fisted in the sheets, tears pooling at the edges of your eyes. It was unbearable. Worse than before. "Gods, it fucking hurts."

He cursed. Your eyes opened as the weight returned. His hands cradled your face. "Look at me," he ordered. You met his gaze, panting. "It was for some fertility festival so I think the only way for it to stop is if I finish in you."

"Finish." The word was foreign. The world spun. "Cum. You've got to come in me."

"Yes."

You swallowed. "Do it."

"Are you sure?"

"Please, please, please. Please. Fuck."

When he pushed inside, you sobbed with relief. The pain was ebbing again. But this time his pace was gentle, slower. One of his hands slid down to your waist. He guided your hips, pulling them higher. Your legs wrapped around his waist. It was too much and not enough. Your eyes shut, head turning to the side, and he growled, "Mírame."

Your eyes snapped open. His dark gaze burned, his thrusts becoming harder. The coil was beginning to tighten again, the heat building. You pled, cried, begged. More. Fuck me. Cum in me. Please. Please. Please please please.

He leaned down and bit the junction between your neck and shoulder, making you arch off the bed. Pain mixed with pleasure as he sucked the skin into his mouth, marking you. A strangled moan left his lips as he pulled away, watching you writhe. A pressure on your clit had stars sparking in your eyes. The coil snapped, a silent scream caught in your throat. He groaned your name, a deep, guttural sound that could have fueled a thousand climaxes. His hips stuttered and slowed. His cock pulsed.

When his arms began to tremble and his forehead fell against your shoulder, you let out a heavy breath. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly as he collapsed.

"Fuck."

He let out a breathy laugh, rolling onto his side and taking you with him. Arms curled around you. You buried your face in his chest, the warmth and the scent of him calming you.

"Fuck," he repeated, softer. "Are you okay?"

Your body was beginning to ache, but it was nothing like the agony of before. "Better."

"Bien. Muy bien." His hand began to rub soothing circles along your back.

You hummed, nuzzling against him. It was only a moment later that the exhaustion caught up. Your body began to grow heavy, mind shutting down. He said something, but you didn't hear. You were already drifting.

—

When you woke, it was slow. Eyes blinking, adjusting to the light, mind groggy.

"How are you feeling?"

Steven.

You let out a low hum. Sore maybe, but no real pain. "Better, I guess."

"Good."

"Where's—" You had to think for a moment. The name was fuzzy, but the accent came rushing back. "Jake?"

It's Marc's angry expression that crossed their face. "That's his name?"

"It's what he told me."

"Told you," Marc repeated.

"Before..."

Steven's brows knitted together, eyes flitting across your blanket covered body. "Did he hurt you?"

"What? No. Gods, no. He was..." You cleared your throat. Less was more. "He thought you were taking too long to decide and did what he thought he needed to."

Marc's jaw set. “We weren’t going to let you die.”

"We didn't want to force ourselves on you, but we'd have done it. To keep you alive. Only needed a minute to come to terms with it, ya know?" Steven's familiar doe eyes pleaded for understanding.

“I know,” you told him quickly, reaching to take his hand. "It's alright. I know."

"We would never, we'd rather die than—"

"I know." You squeezed his hand.

There was a long pause. You were content to watch their face shift. Marc and Steven were one and the same, but you could tell the difference. It was in the details. The way their brows furrowed, how they held their shoulders, the tilt of their chin. It was the little things that changed. Marc's thumb brushed along the back of your hand. "What was he like?"

For a moment you thought he was asking about what the sex had been like. The word amazing had been on the tip of your tongue before his real meaning came through. "Impatient. He spoke Spanish. And he knew me." Your head tilted. “Did you know he was there?”

“Figured there was another of us. Had a few blackouts neither of us could explain. The prick’s probably watching us now,” Marc huffed. “But he’s never tried to contact us before.” He holds up a piece of paper with very neat cursive curling across it. “Said to make sure to get you some Levonelle.”

“England's version of Plan B,” Steven answered your scrunched brows.

"Right, yeah. Cause he had to finish in me." You regretted letting that part slip out.

Marc's eyes darkened. "He...finished? Inside?"

"That fucker."

They got off the bed with a string of obscenities leaving their lips, letting your hand go.

"Wait, wait," you called as they began to make their way to the door. You followed them. "What are doing?"

"We're gonna go find the tallest building we can and jump off it."

"Marc!" It wouldn't kill them, but it'd hurt like hell.

"Oy, the bloke bloody deserves it! Taking advantage of you like that to get his rocks off!"

"He had to!" You took hold of their arm and they turned to you. "It didn't work otherwise. You know, fertitlty festival and whatnot."

It's Steven's wide, doe eyes making their way down your body that had you realizing you were still undressed. "And he had to do all that then?"

Marc reached for your shoulder, brushing over the skin. You flinched as he pushed against a particularly sore spot. "You said he didn't hurt you."

"He didn't."

"You're covered in bites and bruises.”

"He was trying to help."

"You've got fingerprints on your waist."

"He didn't hurt me," you assured, though your words were beginning to falter. The image of Jake, face contorted, lips parted, came rushing back. Your body warmed. "The opposite."

"I don't understand why he couldn't be a little gentler," Steven grumbled.

Marc's fingers brushed across another mark, a bite at the junction of your shoulder. "He wanted to mark his territory."

You pulled their hand away from the sore spot. "Why do you both keep focusing on this? He did what was needed. That's it."

"He took advantage of the situation."

"And he's been taking advantage for who knows how long!" Steven threw his arms in the air. "Who knows how many times he's taken over when we weren't even aware?"

Marc's lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'm sure he was just doing what he thought was best," you tried.

"He's a bloody coward. Hiding away after he got what he wanted, leaving us to clean up his mess."

Your hands folded over your chest and you took a few steps back. Is that how they saw this? How they saw you? "I'm just a mess to clean up then?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant," Steven stammered, but you had already turned away.

You made a beeline for the bathroom, tears welling. A mess to clean up. A mess. A fucking mess. They didn't want you. They didn't. If they did, Jake wouldn't have had to take over. Your fingers curled around the knob, ready to shut it behind you.

The door didn't budge when you tugged.

"Estas siendo injusta."

You rounded on Jake. "I'm being unfair? They just called you a coward!"

The accusation didn't faze him. Arms folded across his chest, he leaned against the door. "He was right. I was a coward. I should have introduced myself to you a long time ago." He looked past you. "Lockley. Jake Lockley." You followed his gaze over your shoulder to the three paned mirror. All you saw was a reflection of yourself and him. But Steven and Marc would talk to each other like this sometimes. "You were wasting too much time debating the ethics." His eyes trailed back to you and you were once again reminded of how bare you were. "She didn't complain," Jake scoffed, shaking his head. There's a long moment of silence for you, but his face hinted there was a lot being said. When he finally spoke again, it was to growl at his reflection. "I was willing for her to hate me, hate all of us, if it meant she was alive. If either of you had the cojones to let her know about your feelings before, I wouldn't have had to step up."

You were missing a huge part of this conversation. An important part. "What—what feelings?"

His eyes flicked back to you. "Tú sabes, amor. Tambien tienes.” A single step forward was all it took to close the small distance between you. He held your neck with dark eyes boring into yours. "Maybe one day you can have them for me too.”

Your lips parted. Breathless, all you can say is, “Jake…”

“Un día.” His thumb brushed across the bite mark he’d left behind. "I’ll see you soon, amor. Be nice to them.”

There’s a shift in his face. A softening of features. “Steven?”

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean you were a—“

You pressed your lips against his. He stammered and stopped, body tensing. Your hands slid up his chest. He relaxed against you, trembling hands finding your bare hips and resting there. When the kiss broke, you smiled up at him. Doe eyes wide and cheeks flushed, a dopey grin broke across his face. Gods, he was so sweet. "I know."

His forehead pressed against yours. "Maybe this Jake bloke isn't that bad." His head turned to the side, back to the mirror. "You'll have to take that up with her yourself, mate. l've learned my lesson to shut up." A beat later he heaved a sigh.

You knew the change before Marc spoke by the way his hands steady. "We nearly got you killed today. Do you really want to entangle your life in ours even more?"

Your hand came to rest against his face, his eyes closing at the gentle affection. "I'd argue that entangling our lives more saved my life today."

"Baby, I'm serious."

"So am I."

He leaned into your touch. "You deserve better than us. Someone not fucked up."

"I want you. All of you." Your thumb traced his cheekbone. His eyes opened and studied your face. For the briefest of moments, a flicker of a smile ghosted his lips.

"Okay,” he whispered. Anything louder would have shattered the moment.

His kiss was so different from the others. Jake's had been starved. Steven's was awed. Marc's was worship. His arms cradled around you like you're the most precious thing they'd ever held. Your fingers found the curls at the nape of his neck, tangling there, tugging, drawing him closer. You swallowed his groan, tongue brushing along his bottom lip.He lifted you and encouraged your legs to wrap around him. With a few steps, he dropped to the couch. When his hips rolled, his clothed bulge rubbing against your bare cunt, you pulled back, breathless. He watched, enraptured, as your eyes fell closed.

His mouth found the curve of your breast. You whined when his lips wrapped around your nipple. His tongue grazed the sensitive peak.

"Marc."

He hummed in response, the vibrations curling curling your toes. His hips moved again and he groaned against your skin. His hand found your other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. Your head fell back with a low moan.

”You are so beautiful." He kissed across your chest, up your neck. Praises murmured into your skin, punctuated by kisses. Your hands tugged at his shirt and he lifted his arms to allow you to pull it off.

Nails raked down his back causing his breath to stutter, mouth falling open. You grinned, grinding down against him. "Baby," he breathed. His head fell to your shoulder. Hands on your waist, he let you move as you pleased.

"Marc." Your voice was soft.

"Hmm."

Your fingers trailed down his chest and over his stomach and grasped the button of his jeans. "Can I?" You could feel him beneath you, hard and straining against his jeans. He wanted this. You. But Marc denied himself his wants constantly.

After a few long moments, he nodded.

The button came undone and the zipper went down. He lifted his hips and pulled his jeans and boxers down just enough for his cock to pop out. You stared down at his thick cock, mouth watering. Technically you'd had it in you already, but it wasn't the same as seeing it.

Your fingers curled around him, giving him a few gentle strokes.

He moaned, hips stuttering. "Baby."

Your hand continued its slow pace, thumb swiping across the tip and smearing the precum gathered there. The pads of his fingers dug into your waist, jaw clenched, lips parted, and eyes screwed shut.

"Please, baby. I need you."

"Need me?"

"Yes."

"How do you need me?"

"I-I," he stammered.

You raised yourself just enough to line his cock at your entrance before slowly sinking back down. "Is this what you needed?" The stretch is agonizing bliss. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing, adjusting.

"Yes, yes."

You gave yourself a moment to adjust to the feeling before you started moving. But his arms wrapped around your waist and stilled you.

"Hold on, baby. Want to feel you for a minute."

A fond smile pulled at your mouth. Your hands found his hair, running your fingers through it. His lips met yours again and you melted against him. Gentle and tender, like he was savoring the taste.

"I love you," he breathed against your lips.

Breath caught in your throat, your heart skipped a beat.

"I love you," he repeated.

"Marc..."

"I don't expect you to say it back. I just needed you to know." His face dropped to your shoulder, hiding it from you. It's an awkward position, but he didn't seem to mind.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and held him. There was a long, quiet moment. His shoulders tense beneath your arms. "Marc?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Look at me."

With a sigh, his head lifted and turned. Watery eyes flitted between yours.

"I love you too," you whispered.

His mouth parted, brows knitting. "You don’t have to say that.”

You pressed a soft kiss against his lips. "But I want to."

"Really?"

Another kiss. "Really."

"I..."

"Shhh." Another kiss.

You began to rock your hips. He let out a low moan. "I love you," you said, pulling his bottom lip between yours. He swallowed the sound. His arms tightened around your waist, lifting you up and down his length. Your lips found his neck, sucking the skin into your mouth. His thrusts became more erratic, moans and groans turning to pants and gasps.

"Baby," he gasped. "I'm close."

His hand slipped between you, thumb brushing over your clit. Your walls tightened, the coil wound, and stars sparkled in your vision. With a cry, your walls clenched around him, drawing him deeper. Marc cursed. A few more erratic thrusts and he was spilling inside of you, crying your name.

He slumped back into the couch. You laid on top of him, both trying to catch your breath. "Are you alright?"

"Perfect," he sighed, kissing the top of your head. "You?"

"Better than perfect."

"Good. That's good." His thumb brushed along the curve of your waist, but halted. “No, no, don’t you dare—“

A shiver rolled through their body. “Oy, that’s sensitive,” Steven trilled, lifting you enough to slip out his spent cock. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, “Well no, actually, I’m not because he cut in line.”

You let out a huff of laughter. The two squabbled like brothers. Marc was probably equally as peeved.

"That is,” his arms loosened around you, “if you’re interested in my company?"

You pecked his lips. "I'd love it."

“Fantastic.” He stood, lifting you easily. ”Because I’m starved.”

Giggling, you said, “We can grab some takeout from the Chinese place by the pharmacy.”

He kissed your cheek. “Takeout? Sweetheart, I’ve got a whole feast right here.”

For the second time in—gods how many hours had it been? Was it even the same day? Didn’t matter. For the second time in however long it had been, you’re dropped on the bed. Less gently this time. He bounced on the mattress after you, eagerly throwing your legs over his shoulders and diving happily into the mess his predecessors had made. The groan he let out against your core was downright sinful. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging, as his tongue explored.

It’s…surprising how good he is. You’d expected him to be inexperienced. He had been in your fantasies. But Steven seemed particularly skilled at this part at least. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh. The tip of his tongue ran along your slit, dipping into your entrance and gathering the cum that had begun to leak. He hummed. "You taste delicious, sweetheart." His tongue swiped over the bud, sending a jolt through you.

"Steven."

His eyes flicked up, meeting yours.

"More."

A grin spread across his face. He lowered his head again, tongue tracing patterns. Your head fell back.

"I want to hear you," he murmured.

You didn't need the encouragement.

He began sucking on your clit, pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth and humming. His fingers pried your lips apart and sunk into you. One, then two, pumping, curling.

"Fuck, fuck, Steven," you cried.

His tongue flicked your clit.

It's all too much. Your walls tightened, clamping around his fingers. You moaned his name, tugging at his hair. He kept moving, coaxing out an orgasm far too quickly for your overworked body. You shook beneath him, gasping for air. The high ebbed, but his ministrations did not. His fingers continued to pump, tongue continued its work.

"Steven, please," you plead, trying to push his head away

He lifted it, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. "I'm not done."

Your hand fell to his face, cupping his cheek. "Please, I can't. Not yet."

"Just a bit more, yeah?" His free hand slid up your waist, fingers caressing your chest. "I want to feel you fall apart one more time. Please?"

The pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple, causing you to suck in a sharp breath.

"Just keep making your pretty little noises for me, alright? Won’t take long." He didn’t wait for you to deny him, letting his tongue return to its previous endeavor.

He’d reversed your roles. Usually, he’d be the one who couldn’t deny you. Now you’re sure he could ask you for anything and you’d agree with your own dopey grin. The hand on his face moved to the sheets, clutching at the fabric. Fingers curled inside you, pressing against the spot that had you seeing stars. His mouth wrapped around your clit, sucking and licking and humming. Your back arched off the mattress, a silent scream stuck in your throat.

Stars.

Everything was stars.

His movements slowed, fingers and tongue working you through the waves. When the high faded, you could only manage a stuttered breath. He lifted his head. A proud smile had his eyes dancing. He seemed ridiculously proud of himself. He kissed his way up your body, pausing at every bruise or bite mark Jake had left behind. His fingers traced patterns over your stomach and up to your breasts. Whispered how good you were for him, how amazing, how perfect.

You expected to feel his cock prodding at your entrance, but all he did was curl against you with a content hum.

"You don't want...?"

He kissed your shoulder. "Later."

"Steven..."

"Later," he repeated.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

You sighed. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him. He buried his face in your hair, mumbling something about how good it smelled. You could hear his breathing growing heavy through the endless praises.

"Mind if I take a kip before we head out to the pharmacy?”

You kissed his hair. “Not at all, love. Sleep.”

Translations

Pinches pendejos. : Fucking idiots.

Yo sé. Cuidaré de ti, amor : I know. I’ll take care of you, love.

Mírame : Look at me.

Bien. Muy bien. : Good. Very good.

Estas siendo injusta. : You’re being unfair.

Tú sabes, amor. Tambien tienes. : You know, love. You have them too.

Un día. : One day

[cupidysm]

same. fucking. guy.

[cupidysm]

A MAN ON THE INSIDE 1.04

[cupidysm]

[cupidysm]

back to main masterlist

PER ASPERA AD ASTRA — SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: marcus acacius x emperor's daughter!reader.

summary: when your husband dies in battle, his best friend is there to console you, to help you navigate your grief as he does his own. as you become close, feelings flourish. but your father, emperor Traianus, sees Marcus' romantic advances as a way to dethrone him.

a/n: this will be a series of drabbles, might evolve into a full-blown series eventually if i feel up to it. the drabbles may be posted out of order as inspiration hits, so i apologise for that. you can find the order below.

status: ongoing.

taglist: open.

word count: TBD.

series warnings: 18+, mdni. smut, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, death, war, discussion of sensitive topics. please heed the warnings for each chapter.

drabbles:

i. faber est suae quisque fortunae - 🤕 ii. flectere si nequeo superos, acheronta movebo - 🤕🩸💢

[cupidysm]

“Like an Animal”

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

written by birdy

Note- I’m tired of nobody playing into the mutant or animalistic side of him as much as I want them to. pls enjoy u freaks 😇

warnings/tags- 18+, Animal!Logan, he’s nasty, strong language, he eats you out like an animal okay? That’s the whole plot.

PLEASE SEND ME LOGAN IDEAS ! Mean!Logan, Soft!Logan, I like it all. give me ideas. also feedback appreciated !

——————————————————————————

Being a mutant leads to heightened senses. You’ve seen this first hand in Logan.

The second you start ovulating, he is all over you. Laying in bed on your phone, he’s watching you from the door way. He’s shirtless, wearing dark blue jeans. His dog tags lay across his broad chest, rising up and down as he breathes.

“Logan? You okay?” You ask, looking up from your phone. He says nothing, instead stepping towards you.. slowly. You frown, sitting up slightly.

“Lo?”

When close enough, he quickly jumps up on the bed, pouncing on you like a cat playing with a mouse.

You wheeze under the sudden weight of his body, all 300 pounds. He pins your arms to your sides using his muscular legs, sticking his face and nose into the deep crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, like he hasn’t been able to take a full breath in years.

“Can smell you..” He groans against your ear.

“Lo!” You exasperate, smiling at the sudden attention. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Could fuckin’ smell you from across the hall.” He smells you again, inhaling your pheromones. He starts smelling all of you in quick, jagged breaths. Your hair, your neck, your chest, your face.

You squirm, his breath tickling your skin. His stubble and facial hair gently scrapes against your soft neck. His own scent was intoxicating, that of leather and cigar smoke. A hint of alcohol lingered on his breath, along with his usual musk and light sweat. You knew there was no chance in getting him off of you unless he wanted to, but you try anyway. You grunt, shaking your shoulders in your best attempt to get the beast of a man off of your body.

He doesn’t budge.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’, girl? Hm?” You feel him smile against your neck as he speaks. “Tryna run away from me?”

The sound of his voice trickles into your ears and sends vibrations to the back of your throat. The warmth and weight of his body mixed with the feeling of his breath and the roughness of his face on your neck makes you weak. You know the power he has over you, and so does he. The familiar throbbing that you know so well rises in your stomach and down into your shorts. You shut your legs and clench your thighs to try and relieve the building tension.

Logan’s head rises up from out of your hair and looks down at your face. He can smell your arousal, and you see it in his eyes. His brows furrow, his breath heavy now, panting. He looks at you hungrily. The look in his eyes is like nothing you’ve seen before, and it makes you nervous, like you’re a piece of meat and he’s a starved animal.

“Logan..” You say cautiously. He scans your face as if he’s trying to regain some control over his own mind, his own movements. “Logan.” You say again, this time more direct. He blinks, his pupils steady again. “What is happening right now with you?”

He looks at your eyes. Then your lips. Then your chest. Then back up to your eyes.

“Need to taste you. Right now.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden bluntness, but you’re quickly distracted by a rough hand gripping the side of your waist. You swallow, inches from his face. You feel his warm, shaky breath on your face as he stares down at you with large, pleading yet demanding eyes.

“Need it now.” He repeats, more frantic this time, like if he doesn’t make a move on you you’ll get away. “Gonna give ya what you need, don’ worry baby, I know what y’need.”

He closes that last inch of space and connects his mouth with yours, kissing you slowly. His breath gets heavier, his nose and face mashing into yours as the kiss gets sloppier and lazier. He indistinctively let’s out faint groans and whines from his chest and back out his throat into your mouth. He’s lapping at your tongue now, like your mouth is the fountain of youth.

He paws at your waist, bringing his huge, veiny hand up your side and under your loose top. He cups a breast in his hand, to which he grabs greedily. He couldn’t get enough of your body, and if you weren’t soaking before, you definitely are now. He bites your bottom lip with his sharp canine, gently at first, but once he starts he couldn’t stop. He bites your tongue a few times, kissing you and pushing his face farther into your space. He quickly pulls his face away from yours, looking down at you with half lidded, crazed eyes. He brushes some hair out of your face with his free hand, looking down at your puffy, wet lips.

“You’re so beautiful, y’know that? So beautiful.” His voice is low, you’re the only one he’s speaking too. The only one that needs to hear his voice. “So beautiful for me, all for me. Right sweetheart?”

You nod, quickly licking your raw lip and swallowing.

He kisses you again. Any politeness is gone now. He moves his mouth from your face to your cheek. He trails sloppy, hot kisses down your jaw to your neck. He bites and licks at the top of your ear, then back down to your collarbone. He moves his body down the bed, gently nipping at your collarbone, leaving red marks that will soon turn to hickeys. He brings his head up to look at his doing, clearly marking his territory. His warm face is back on your chest in a heart beat though, his other hand finding it’s way to your second breast. He focuses on perfecting the marks on your chest for a moment, then looks again. You writher under his touch, moving your legs together. Once he’s satisfied with his markings, he lifts your shirt up, letting it bunch at your neck before gently biting at your nipple, pinching the other with his hand. He licks and licks, tasting your skin and smelling you.

“Lo.” You whine.

You feel him smile against your skin before laying one more kiss on your tit, then sits up. He looks down at you once again. Your chest exposed to him. You’re all blushed and red, bruised, hot and bothered. He did this to you.

“I know, I know Bub. I cant wait either.”

He slides off the side of the furniture, ignoring his own painful erection and kneels on the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed. He grabs your closed thighs, hoists them up and effortlessly pulls you closer to him.

“Take these off for me, Baby.” He hooks a finger under your silk shorts.

You look at him, your face flushed, heart thumping.

He’s too impatient, he can’t wait any longer. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re already goin’ dumb for me. Haven’t even touched you yet.” He teases as he quickly pulls down your shorts to your ankles, tossing them out of sight.

He sighs through his mouth when he sees your leaking panties, all wet and glistening for him.

“Open up.” He sighs, putting his calloused hands on your knees. When you don’t move, he brings a hand to your thigh and pries you open with ease.

“God..” He groans under his breath. Feeling exposed, you try to shut your legs, but he sternly keeps you open for his access. He dips his head below your knees, and without warning inhales with his nose at the top of your clothed slit.

You gasp, embarrassed, and try to push his head away, but to absolutely no avail. Instead, he sticks out his tongue and gently presses it against your clit. Your embarrassment fades as it’s overwhelmed with sudden pleasure. It’s not nearly enough for anything, but at least it’s something. You let out a quick moan, which he pays no attention too. This wasn’t to make you feel good, this was because he needed to taste you.

He licks at you through the thin layer of fabric, holding your thighs down into the mattress with his large hands. He slowly rubs his fingers into your soft skin, soothing you, simply so you’d hopefully stop squirming. His breath is hot against your drenched panties. He grinds his own bulge against the foot of the bed while dragging a finger up your thigh. It travels to the top of your panties, then pulls them down your legs, around your ankles, and forgotten on the floor. He looks at you now, completely exposed to him. Again, you try to avoid his gaze by covering yourself with your hand, but he swats it away.

“Quit.” He snaps, like you’re preventing him from his work.

He brings his middle finger down from your thigh to your slit, just gently tracing it, trying to remember every curve and detail in your delicate space. You look away, shutting your eyes. He slowly slips his finger in, only to the second knuckle. You groan, your back arching to the little contact. He watches you tighten around his digit, your slick acting as natural lubricant. Your juices coating his finger.

“Mm, look at that baby. You’re already doing s’good. Already ready f’me, aren’t you? Such a dirty girl..”

He keeps himself inside of you for a moment, listening to you whine and watching you twitch around his knuckle. He slowly removes himself from your pussy and into his mouth, licking his finger clean, letting none of your arousal go to waste.

When he himself can’t take it anymore, he lowers his head once more in between your legs. He tries to be slow, but can’t stop himself from lapping and lapping at you like a thirsty dog. His licks are undirected, not aiming anywhere specific, just trying to taste as much as you as he possibly can. He moans against your cunt, sending vibrations through your core. He suckles at your pussy, his nose hitting your clit and his facial hair scraping against your folds perfectly. Lapping and lapping and licking and more licking, never once slowing down, never once coming up for air. Instead he breathes through it all, every inhale making him harder and harder in his denim jeans. He licks your entrance. He shoves his hot, wet tongue in and out of you, over and over again.

Once he calms himself down, he directs his licking to your clit, a little more concentrated but still wild. He slowly brings a hand up, holding a finger to your leaking entrance. Barely any pressure is used when his finger easily slips into your pussy, gripping and tightening once more. Once fully adjusted, he slowly pumps in and out of you while wildly lapping at your throbbing clit.

“Logan.” You moan uncontrollably. The noises coming from your mouth are not voluntary. You bring your arms up from your sides and latch onto the black tufts of hair on his head, pulling. He lets out a groan against your cunt when you pull his hair, and this almost sets you over the edge, but not yet.

He inserts a second finger, curling upwards, hitting that sweet spot so perfectly you begin to see stars. Your sweet mouth hangs open and your eyes water, huffing, trying to control your breathing.

“S’good f’me.” He mutters against you. “Doin’ s’good f’me. You gonna cum baby? Gonna make a mess on my face? Hm?”

Your toes begin to curl as Logan keeps your legs open for himself. When he looks up, he locks eyes with you. His eyebrows are furrowed as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, watching your face.

“So good sweetheart, jus’ like that. Justa little bit more baby.”

He shuts up when he notices your legs sputtering, and starts eating you again. He nips at your sensitive bud once or twice, making you jolt in response. His fingers quicken, in and out, in and out. Then, the knot grew tighter and tighter. You tap his head with your hand as a warning, letting out soft “Ah- Ah”s.

You throw your head back and curl your toes tightly. Your eyes roll to the back of you head. Logan continues licking and deeply fingering you through your orgasm, moaning “Mhm, mhm,” against you as light encouragement.

He keeps licking every drop of juices that you’d let out until you’re a twitchy, sputtering mess. He lifts his head from your clit to mutter sweet nothings, slowing his fingers around your sputtering hole.

“Fuck, so fucking beautiful. You know that, baby? Did so good f’me. God.”

He gently pulls his fingers out of you, and slowly closes your legs for you to give them a break from the unnatural pose. He licks his fingers as he climbs into bed. Logan hooks his hands under your arms and quickly pulls you up into his chest. He brushes your hair out of the way and lays gentle kisses on your forehead as he rubs his hand up and down your arm.

“Feel good Kid?” He asks you, to which you nod.

You completely relax into his body as the two of you lay in bed. He reaches over to the nightstand and lights a cigar, taking a quick puff before smiling. He sniffs the top of your head again, covering his nose with your messy hair.

“You smell really good.”

[cupidysm]

AJRKGOWOSCN[AIDNWOD YOU HAVE DONE IT ONCE AGAIN. You have given my heart a thousand kisses and I love you for it.

Hii, I love your fics, especially the Moon Knight ones, sometimes I'm so giddy that I need to take a step back and remember myself that they aren't real.

May I request headcanons about the Moon Boys overhearing reader talking to their pet (probably a kitten) about how much they love the boys, and their quirks and their little differences and just going on and on about how perfect they are?

I understand if not, I will love whatever you post regardless!

Oh my gosh, this is so adorable! I hope I did it justice!

Just Happy

Jake Lockley x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Jack eavesdrops.

Warnings: Fluff, Jake being emotional, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 482

You stroke behind Salem’s ears, the small kitten’s eyes are closed, his head pressed as close as he can to your hand. 

“You like that, hmm?” You smile, “Who’s my favourite little guy?” 

Salem purrs loudly. 

Jake smiles from his position in the doorway, his hair still damp from the shower. Both Marc and Steven were still asleep, Steven hadn’t come to bed until well into the early morning and now that things in their life were calmer Marc was using the opportunity to catch up on fifteen years of rushed power naps. 

“Who is it, hmm?” You lean down and kiss the top of Salem’s head three times. 

Jake can’t help himself, he slowly takes out his phone from his pocket, not wanting to alert you to his presence. He finds the perfect angle and then starts filming, he’d have to send this to the group chat Steven had created. Affectionately called ‘The Body 💪📖🚗⚾’

“It’s yoooooooou!” You say sing-song to Salem and grin, “Well you’re my favourite little cat guy. I think Steven, Marc, and Jake might complain if they’re not my favourites too. Though I don’t think they’d mind being second best to you.” 

At the sound of Steven, Marc, and Jake’s names Salem perks up his ears and meows softly. 

“Yeah! You love them too, don’t you? They are the best, we love them so much. Because they’re so kind and great. And they give you the best pets, don’t they? Well, second best, I’m best obviously.” 

Jake covers his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh. He’s smiling so hard it’s hurting his cheeks, his chest so light it’s almost painful. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, his throat thick. He tries to force the emotion down, but it just builds and builds. 

“I know part of the reason you’re so excited when you hear their names is you think you’re gonna get extra treats, I know they give you more than they should.” You smile. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean a little closer and Salem looks up at you with large eyes. “I love them so much, literally so much. Every day my heart gets a little bigger with how much I love them. Opposite Grinch situation going on in here.” You tap your chest. 

“Amor,” Jake’s voice makes you jump, and you turn from your position on the floor just in time for him to wrap his arms around you in a bear hug. 

You let out a little oof of air and then giggle, “Were you spying on me?” 

“Yes.” He mutters into your neck, his voice is thick and wavering. 

“Hey, you okay?” You stroke his back and try to move to see his face. But he just snuggles deeper into your chest and squeezes you tighter.

“I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” 

“Just happy, my love. Just happy.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[cupidysm]

good lord am I in love with romantic Cecil

One For The Road [4]

Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: Cecil calls you late at night

A/N: Another huge thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading again, making some excellent suggestions, and putting up with meeeeee <3

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, catching feelings, oral sex (afab!receiving), jerking off, p in v sex (with a condom), vibrators, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 3073

I Thought It Was Dark Outside

Cecil: “Do you want to come over on Friday night?” 

You: “You got new porn recommendations for me?”

Cecil: “You want some?” 

You: “Maybe.” 

Cecil: “I was thinking we could do something a little different?” 

You: “Such as?” 

Cecil sends you a video. The preview image is black. 

Cecil: “This could be inspiration maybe?” 

You pause for a moment before you click the video. The second it starts you’re glad it’s late and you are on your own tucked up in bed. Not on public transport or at work. 

It’s, unsurprisingly, semi-professional porn. 

A woman is bouncing on a guy's cock, her hand squeezing his neck as he whines underneath her. 

You: “Is that what you’re into? Getting choked?” 

Cecil takes a few minutes to reply. 

Cecil: “Yeah.” 

Cecil: “I’m into lots of stuff.”

Cecil: “Is that okay?” 

You: “Yep.” 

Cecil: “Good. You don’t have to choke me or anything if you don’t want to, I was just thinking if you’d like to fuck on a bed?”

Cecil: “My bed?” 

You snort, unable to not find his texts weirdly endearing. 

You: “I like how formal you’re being.” 

Cecil: “Yeah? Or are you joking? Tone is hard over text.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply this time before your phone vibrates with another message. 

Cecil: “And that’s not the only thing that’s hard.” 

Cecil: “Get it?” 

You: “Your dick?” 

Cecil: “You wanna see?” 

You smile. 

You: “Sure.” 

You expect a photo, maybe a little video. But instead, Cecil video calls you. 

After the small beat of surprise, you giggle and accept the call. 

“Hi Cec,” you smile. 

“Hi,” he whines. He’s laying in bed, his face and part of his bare chest taking up the frame. His phone shakes slightly and from the sounds it’s obvious that he’s jerking himself off out of frame. 

“You having fun?” You tease. 

He pouts. “Got horny.” 

“Aw, did you?” 

He pulls a face and you giggle. 

Cecil grins, his facade breaking for a second before he reschools his face into a puppy dog expression. “Your fault.” 

You snort. “How is it my fault?”

“Talking to you, got hard.” 

Heat runs under your skin. “Show me.” 

He bites his lip and there is a manic moment where he scrambles to change the camera from front facing to back one handed, which makes you smile. 

His cock is hard against his stomach, the tip red and swollen. He’s squeezing the base lightly, but not moving. 

You lick your lips. “Aww, Cec…” You say softly and he whimpers. “Having trouble because I’m not there to take care of you?” You try your best to make your voice sound vaguely neutral and fail miserably. 

“Yes.” He whines, and you can hear the over the top sulk in his voice. 

“Want me to come and sit on it?” 

The jab is playful and anything but serious, but his cock twitches before your eyes on the screen and he groans. 

“Pleeeaseee,” he swallows, giving one slow jerk. His stomach muscles quivering under the strain. “Please, god, fuck, Harry isn’t here right now, he’s at Mary-Ann’s tonight. You could, you could stay over and-” He moans as he shallowly thrusts into his hand. “Please, you could, we could-fuck- I mean definitely fuck. I won’t even come until you get here. Please?” 

You pause, conflicted. Part of you really wants to tease him, to mess with him and watch until he spurts all over his tummy and whimpers in that oh so sweet way. 

The other really wants to be in the same room as him right now. 

You glance at the time on your phone. 23:49. This would be a booty call, wouldn’t it? 

Though at this time, it would barely take ten minutes to drive to his house. 

Fuck it. 

“Okay.” 

You barely get the word out before Cecil is uttering a stream of ‘thank yous.’

“But.” 

He stops talking quickly, a little snap echoes as he sharply closes his mouth. 

“I want you to come now. Otherwise, you’ll get too excited when you see me and’ll probably bust a nut on the spot.” 

Cecil giggles, but starts jerking off straight away, his laughter quickly turning into moans. If you hadn’t already heard him several times in previous situations, you would say he was putting it on a little. Purposefully sounding as pornographic as possible. But that was just Cecil, he couldn’t be anything but loud. 

“I would,” he manages to get out through his cries of pleasure. “You’re so smart, I totally, totally would just see you and jizz, fuck, you really gonna come over and see me?” His voice breaks a little at the end and so does a little piece of your heart. 

How many times had people lied to him? 

How many times had others broken promises? 

“I am, the second you finish.”

He whines. His hips slamming up into his fist, the slap, slap, slap of skin echoing around your room. 

“Cecil.” 

“Yes,” the word is strained, breathless.

“I wanna see you when you come, want to see your face.” You haven’t even finished your sentence but already Cecil is rapidly changing the camera. 

He looks so wrecked, his eyes glazed over. He softly whimpers your name, biting his lip. “Gonna come.” 

“Good.” 

He moans loudly, convulsing and nearly dropping the phone with the force of his orgasm. He shudders, breathing hard and pressing the back of his head to his pillow as his muscles tense and relax. 

You’ve never seen anything more beautiful. 

“That was so nice.” He mumbles and then, instead of changing the camera, just twists the phone around to show you the mess of cum on his stomach. 

You grin. “Very good Cecil.” 

“Oh fuck.” He shivers and giggles when he turns the phone back to face him, “Don’t– you’ll make me come again.” 

You snort. “You got a praise kink?” 

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Duh, of course.” 

You laugh and look at him for a moment, really focusing this time. There are faint bags under his eyes and his eyes themselves are red. “You high?” 

He shakes his head.

“Drunk?” 

“Nope, haven’t drunk or smoked or taken any delicious mind altering substances today.” He gives you a sincere smile. 

Maybe he’s just tired. 

Maybe he’d been crying.

You push that thought away quickly. 

“You sure you want me to come over?” 

He nods quickly, “Please– only if you want to, I mean, but, I’d really like to see you. We don’t have to do anything, well, you could just sit on my face for a few hours.” 

You bark out a laugh. “A few hours?” 

“I know,” he nods, all fake seriousness, “Not long enough….” 

“You dork.” 

“You love me for it,” he beams. 

“Yeah, sure.” You smile. “I’ll be over in ten. And no getting dressed.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He mock salutes. But you get the feeling he likes it more than he is letting on. 

.

—-----------------------------------------------

The drive takes 8 minutes. A new personal record, and no speed limits were broken either.

You’ve barely knocked on the door, your knuckles just grazing the wood, before it’s thrown open dramatically. 

Cecil beams at you, ushering you in. He’s wearing a dark blue towel bathrobe that he takes off in a flourish the second the door is closed. “It’s me, Anastasia.” He flounces his arms to the side, mimicking the cartoon character. He’s completely naked, his semi cock bobs comically as he moves.

You giggle at him, kissing his cheek and then his lips. His grin widens, happiness flowing off him in waves as he wraps his arms around you. His skin is warm and he smells like coconut body wash, obviously having taken a quick shower before you got here. 

“I’m so glad you came.” He nuzzles into your neck, littering any skin he can reach with kisses. 

“Me too. Thank you for inviting me.”

He tuts and squeezes a fraction tighter, “You are always welcome. Literally, just come over whenever.”

A spark of warmth settles in your chest. “Yeah, well, you gotta deal with me in my pyjamas now.”

He pulls back a second, still grinning like an overly excited puppy and biting his plump bottom lip. “This is the sexiest outfit I have ever seen.” 

You laugh, but there’s a sincerity in his expression that makes you stand a little straighter. 

“But,” he wiggles his eyebrows, “You know where it would look even better?” 

“On your bedroom floor?” You snort.

“No,” he gives you a look of mock shock, “On me. It would look better on me, but you need to take it off first.” 

You chuckle, “You’re so silly.” 

“You love it… I hope?” 

“I love it.” You reassure him and stroke his cheek. 

He kisses your wrist, nuzzling into your touch and sighing happily. Slowly he inches closer, once again wrapping his arms around you, “Come to bed with me?” He poked out his bottom lip and blinks rapidly. 

“Stop,” you try to groan but can’t stop the fit of giggle the expression causes. You gently push at his cheek. “That face is terrible.”

He blinks harder. 

“Cec!” You shake your head grinning and he leans forward kissing you deeply and slipping his tongue past your lips. 

The way he softly leads you upstairs somehow feels so uncharacteristically characteristic, sweet and caring despite the raging boner he’s sporting. He barely takes his lips off your skin and you're a little surprised he doesn’t fall up the steps in the process. 

His room is suspiciously tidy, and freshly vacuumed, which makes you smile. However, you don’t get very long to admire it before Cecil pulls you towards the bed, his hands sliding greedily under your top and groaning when he realises you're not wearing a bra. 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He helps you out of it quickly and sits on the edge of the bed. He palms your breasts eagerly, staring like he’d just found the holy grail before he gently kisses them, sucking one nipple into his mouth and then the other. 

Your breathing hitches as you lean into him, lightly arching your back and sinking your fingers into his hair. 

“Shit, Cecil…” You swallow and he groans, whining softly as he sucks. Pleasure twists and sparks down to your core, settling in a deep untenable ache that you crave for him to soothe. 

He laps at your right breast with the flat of his tongue as he hooks his fingers under your waistband and pulls the rest of your clothing down. 

Slowly he pulls back, holding your hands as he helps to steady you as you step out of your pyjamas. His eyes are lidded, glazed with arousal as he takes you in and squeezes his balls to just take the edge off. 

He groans lowly, saliva shining on his lips as he looks up at you with those big doe eyes. “Come and sit on my face?” Cecil shuffles back fully onto the bed, laying down with his head propped with pillows before he gives you a sweet, beseeching look. 

You nod, climbing after him. Despite having been in a similar position before a sense of anxiety drapes along your skin, the times previously were rushed or accidental, things that you could argue were casual. The unplannedness of this should add to that. Should mean nothing. 

He runs his hands up your thighs eagerly as you settle into position, urging you to partially suffocate him with your core. 

He hums, licking his lips eagerly as he looks up at you and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this happy before. 

Lightly, he tugs at your hips, pulling you closer and darting out his tongue to swipe the tip through your folds and circle your clit. “God, you taste so good.” He groans and repeats the movement with the broad flat of his tongue.

You gasp, grabbing hold of his headboard to steady yourself as he keeps licking, in long steady strokes. 

“Fuck, just use me please.” He mutters, sucking on your clit and pulling you down against him completely. He moans when you do, echoing your sound of pleasure with his. 

For a split second you forget how to move, so overwhelmed with the sensation of his thick, warm tongue. But then he grips your hips and rocks you slightly, encouraging you to find your own rhythm. 

Expletives fall out of your mouth, mixed with his name like a prayer as you grind against him, your thighs shivering and muscles tensing as you chase your peak. 

Cecil moans, slurping at your slick and pulling you closer with every circle of your hips. His balls tighten, the sounds of your cries and heavy breathing settle in the base of his spine. His eyes roll back as the pressure at the root of his cock builds, he squirms his legs, desperately thrusting upwards into nothing as he searches mindlessly for relief. 

He flicks the tip of his tongue, trying to slip deeper inside and curling until you scream, the sensation paralysing you with pleasure. You hang onto the headboard as it washes over you, leaving you weak and shaky as you breathe hard. 

Awkwardly you move back off him, worried that you might have cut off his air supply. 

“Oh fuck,” Cecil whines, breathing as heavily as you were, he looks at you and smiles. “I nearly came too, fuck. God, you sound so fucking sexy when you come, taste so good too.” He climbs over to you, kissing your cheeks and neck and pushing his face in between your breasts and breathing deeply. 

“You wanna fuck? Or you wanna nap?” He gives you a sweet look, and you’re very sure he would be content to wrap you in blankets and snuggle up for the night if you said the latter. 

“Fuck please.” You grin when he beams, excitement plastering his features. 

“I’m warning you,” he jumps out of bed and riffles through his side table drawers. “I’m not gonna just plough you.”

You snort. “Ever the romantic.” 

“No, I mean,” he grins, running a hand through his hair. “No, I mean, I’m probably gonna last less than a second if I just try to do the normal routine, you’re just so pretty and hot and I know you’re gonna feel so nice.” He whines a little at the end and shakes his head, “sorry, I, I’m gonna try not to just,” he mimics an explosion and you giggle. 

“If you gotta you gotta, you know I’ve been with guys who didn’t even try to get me off beforehand, so.” 

He pulls a face, “Where’s the fun in that?” 

You shrug. 

He finds what he was looking for in the drawer and climbs back onto the bed. “Those guys suck.” He unwraps the condom with his teeth and slides it onto himself before he fiddles with something in his hands. It’s small and metal and you don’t realise what it is until he switches it on and it buzzes into life.

“Why do you have a bullet vibrator?” You laugh. 

“For this.” He grins and wiggles his eyebrows at you as he settles between your thighs and notches his cock at your entrance. He pauses, biting his lip, his eyes darting up from your pussy to your face. “Is this okay?”

He waits for you to nod, giving you the most brilliant smile before he slowly pushes in.

“Ohhh shiiiiiiiit,” he groans, inching in and then pausing to gather himself before he continues. He swallows and circles your clit with his thumb, the lube from the condom mixing with your slick, before he presses the vibrator to your bundle of nerves. He moves it lightly, mirroring the pattern he drew with his fingers seconds before.

He gasps when you jump, “Oh, fuck, maybe a bad idea? I can feel the vibrations through you and you're squeezing me so hard.” He whines at the end. 

You swallow, little moans escaping your lips as he finally pushes completely inside. You’d underestimated how thick he’d feel, how he’d stretch you so perfectly. The pleasure is so high it’s almost to the point of pain. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” he breathes hard, shifting a little to get comfortable. “Gonna make you come again, yeah? Please?” 

“Cecil,” you whine, rocking softly against him as the vibrator sends shivers through your nerves. 

“Can I?” 

You nod, “Please, please, please. Need you to, just move.” You buck against him and he hisses. 

“No, no, no, we're just gonna stay like this and,” he shifts, leaning down so he can kiss you, one hand awkwardly pressed between your bodies to keep the vibrator in place. 

He slips his tongue into your mouth greedily, drinking down your moans as he rolls his hips, barely pulling out. 

You grab onto him for dear life, tugging at his shoulders as you move with him, matching his hypnotising pace. 

Sweat beads and slides between your bodies as each of your movements start to grow more frantic and desperate. 

He rolls his hips and the way he drags and presses against you hits a spot inside that sends a jolt of electricity through your limbs. 

Your cry is muffled by his lips, but still powerful. 

Cecil gasps, his spine arching. “Oh, fuck, fuck, that good?” He bites his lip, his brow pinched together in concentration as he focuses on repeating his thrust perfectly. 

You grab at him, unable to form words as he hits it again, suffocating in the sensation. 

“God, that's good, right? You’re, fuck, you’re fucking pulsating around me, oh!” He groans, snapping his hips, unable to hold himself back any longer. 

He whines, low and needy as he thrusts, rapidly, your name falling from his lips with every breath. “I can't, I can't, I can't-”

You tense, your head thrown back in a silent scream as your orgasm rips along your spine leaving only ashes in its wake. 

Cecil groans, high-pitched as you tense and spasm around him. It barely takes him a second to follow you, spilling violently in the condom. 

He collapses on top of you, blinking hard and then struggling to get off you, “Sorry, sorry, sor-”

You grab him by the back of the neck and pull him into a long, sweet kiss. 

He sighs happily, relaxing against you. “That was really nice.” He mumbles. “Can I make you pancakes in the morning?”

Thank you for reading!

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[cupidysm]

THIS has just made my day. 💕

Do you think any of the OI characters could be convinced to put on a sexy nurse outfit, while taking care of their sick partner?

I am giggling! (I really tried not to just be like YES to all of them, but I am a weak, weak person.)

oscar isaac charcters x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi • ask-travaganza •

Warnings: silliness, references to sexy times

Word Count: 465

_____________________________________

Steven: Giggles the whole time, and puts on a fantastically over the top accent to go with the new character he’s created. You have to kiss him to shut him up when he starts quoting Carry On, Doctor.

Marc: Will put on the outfit and make you take your medicine and go to sleep. “I’m taking care of you, so you feel better, why did you want something else?” Is a little shit about it until you beg him for kisses.

Jake: No sooner than the words are out of your mouth, he’s already scrambling to get changed. Nurse Lockley is here with medicine (his dick) and to take care of you (fuck your brains out if you’re up to it.) 

Nathan: Nathan ‘I’m not putting that fucking thing on’ Bateman. Getting all grumpy and muttering under his breath. The second you are out of the room though and (preferably) laying down, he’s knocking on the door in the most outrageous outfit you’ve ever seen and telling you he’s ‘been hired by Dr Bateman to take care of you’.

Anselm: You never have to even bring up the idea, because Anselm has already dressed up for you in a nurse’s outfit many times. (He has several for different occasions, but tends to prefer a custom made latex one that is skin tight and crotchless.) 

Cecil: Thinks the idea is hilarious and gets a little too into character. Tries to wear a pair of very high heels and you just about manage to convince him to take them off before he falls over and gives himself a concussion. 

Club!Blue: Doesn’t mind dressing up at all and is far too into it. (If a guard knocks on his office door, he will be answering it in full costume and with his cock out.)

Orderly!Blue: Please do not encourage this man. 

Jack: Has a disturbingly realistic outfit with blood stains that you do NOT want to ask where they came from. 

Santiago: Takes some convincing because it makes him feel a little self conscious, but he wants to try to not only cheer you up but also to get over some insecurities and he knows he’s safe with you.

Shimmer!Kane: Puts it on without a second thought, clothes are clothes, right? However he does like that it makes you happy. 

King John: Even though this is not historically time period accurate, I can’t help myself - he’s gonna fuck you in a plague doctor mask. I’m sorry.

Rydal: Will be a brat about it, because he wants you to span him in the outfit.

Laurent: Starts going on about how he’s a ‘wet nurse’ and keeps shoving his boobs in your face.

Poe: As if this man doesn’t have 400 outfits on hand at all times.

_________________

Thank you for reading!

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[cupidysm]

OH MY OH MY OH MY. THIS was absolutely spectacular. As someone who is also allergic to seafoods like shellfish I fear that getting to ride this mans dick would be worth it.

Absolutely wonderful writing and getting banned from his own platform would be so Nathan coded.

your dads rival!leto atreides headcanons were delicious what do you think about dads rival!nathan bateman?

Your Father’s Rival!Nathan Bateman

Would Nathan engage in mainstream, juvenile behavior simply to piss off his rival? (Yes. Yes he would) Notes: smut, a bunch of oral, language. it's naughty

Word count: 3k

The above^ mentioned Father'sRival!Leto Atreides hc's @reallyrallyauthor received similar asks (Father's Rival!Nathan) and you HAVE to read the thots and headcanons - they are amazing

Everyone’s on Bluebook. Everyone. Except your family. Your friends never stop complaining about it. Your dad owns a less popular, less lucrative, but still - formidable social media platform, in addition to the rest of his business

And he hates Nathan Bateman.

He and Nathan went to school together-ish, briefly. Your dad was a superstar TA, about to finish his master's degree, when a sixteen-year-old freshman stole his spotlight. Nathan finished his two degrees and all his postgraduate work in two years

Never got a doctorate because it was “boring.”

Your dad insists Nathan stole the idea for Bluebook. You just laugh at him. “Sure, he did, Dad.”

Despite your father's insistence to the contrary, you show up on Bluebook because you’re always in pictures with your friends.

One day your friend calls you absolutely freaking out. After a string of “oh my god oh my god's” she finally tells you that Nathan Bateman himself has liked her photo.

“Sure he did,” you deadpan. (Do you ever believe anyone?)

The next picture posted with you in it (by a completely different friend) gets a like from him. Then another, and another. One of your friends starts to put it together. Nathan has liked seventeen pictures by 6 different friends and the only connecting factor is that you are in each of them.

Then you get the email. “Nathan Bateman has invited you to join Bluebook.” You laugh. Sure it’s him. As if the reclusive billionaire plays middle school games.

But out of overwhelming curiosity and pure, college rebellion, you sign up before you can think too hard about it.

Your friends go crazy. “Look who’s finally here!” You get tagged in a hundred and one things…and Nathan likes every single one of them.

“Nathan Bateman follows you.” With the authenticated checkmark and everything. Your friends become obsessed. They follow every like, screenshotting and reposting like crazy.

Of course, by now, your father is livid. This is a betrayal of your entire family, apparently.

"You cannot give that man an inch," your dad rants, attempting to lecture you while you make dinner.

"What does that even mean?" You huff.

"He's using you to get to me," he conspiratorially rambles, pacing back and forth. "He's trying to destroy me. He's trying to take you away from me."

"He liked some pictures," you shrug, rolling your eyes. "Besides, he probably has like perfect models at his house every other weekend. He definitely doesn't want to take me anywhere."

An alert on your phone chimes.

Nathan Bateman. "Come to a party with me."

Oh shit.

"Who is that?" Your dad practically roars, fearing the worst. He is, unfortunately, correct in assuming Nathan is making a move. Or shit-shirring, whichever.

"Dad, I'm not answering that question." You fold your arms over your chest, tucking your phone out of his sight. "I'm twenty-two. Not twelve."

You lock yourself in your room and reply to Nathan, your heart pounding in your chest as you do.

"How did you get this number?"

"You signed up for Bluebook," He sends back. "I'll pick you up tonight at 10:00."

"Wait, tonight? Where are we going? What do I wear?"

"What you're wearing right now is fine. See you then."

What you're wearing right now.... is he spying on you?

You, of course, change out of your around-the-house clothes and dress in what you hope is passable party attire.

A limo arrives at 10:00 sharp to pick you up and you dart out the door, thankful your dad is already snoring on the couch. The driver opens the door for you, but the car is otherwise empty.

Your phone dings. "You changed clothes. I told you not to."

Your mouth drops open as you furiously type back, "You're really fucking creepy."

"Thank you"

You arrive at the nicest hotel in the city and are shuffled up to the penthouse. Nathan himself greets you in a white undershirt, thin gray joggers and bare feet. The shirt hugs his impressive muscles while the joggers highlight a bulge between his legs that makes your eyes linger.

"Jesus, that took forever. Should've sent the chopper."

He turns on his heel and walks inside, assuming you'll follow, which you do. Glancing around, you realize no one else is at this "party"

He plops down at a dining room table, pulls one leg up into his chair, grabs some chopsticks and continues eating a meal he started without you.

Noticing you standing there, stupefied, he motions to the chair across from him with his chopsticks.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You scoff, folding your arms over your chest.

Dark eyebrows shoot up over his wire frames questioningly.

"I'm allergic to shellfish...and basically like the whole ocean."

(He knows)

"Shit," he laughs. "Better not post a picture of our date, then, or your father will accuse me of attempted murder."

“Date? This is supposed to be a party."

Before he answers you, he holds up his phone and snaps your picture.

"What the hell are you - "

Ding, ding, dingdingingngngngg before you can even finish your sentence, your phone blows up with Bluebook notifications.

Nathan Bateman has tagged you in a photo. It's you, standing here, now. Thank god you dressed cute, but the expression on your face could be better. Still, you've looked worse.

But it's the caption. My fucking hot date

Nathan grabs the phone out of your hand and silences it, making sure it doesn't vibrate either.

"You have notifications on? Desperate." He tuts condescendingly.

You snatch the phone back and whack Nathan on the arm. "You said party. Not date. Do you ever tell the truth?"

He shrugs. "Well...you are fucking hot."

Smooth. “Why…am I here exactly?”

He nods, shoveling more fish into his mouth. “I know you ate dinner with your dad, but those Italian subs you like are on the way if you’re still hungry.”

"Mr. Bateman, really - "

He snorts. "Mr. Bateman was my father."

You gasp in mock surprise. "You mean to tell me you didn't come out of a test tube?"

He motions at you with his chopsticks. "Where do you get that sense of humor? Certainly not from your father. I've never met anyone with less imagination."

"What do you want, Nathan? Assassination by shellfish?" You fold your arms over your chest. "No way am I worth all this effort."

"Nonsense, I've been orchestrating our meeting for some time." Finally he confesses. "I’m buying out your father’s company and I want you to convince him to surrender peacefully.”

You don’t even know where to begin. Your dad is selling? Nathan’s buying? “You would never need someone like me for something like that.” You call his bluff.

He insists he’ll make it worth your while

“How?”

He shrugs. “I have a huge dick.”

Wha? “You’re disgusting.”

“Why? According to your porn history, you fantasize about riding a big dick. I have one. Your dad surrenders peacefully, you get to ride my dick.”

"If you wanted me to touch you, you shouldn't have covered yourself in deadly allergens. Dumbass."

He continues eating. “Your loss. Your dad will already think we fucked though.”

He’s right. Everyone will actually, after that picture.

“So you might as well at least get a hate fuck out of it.”

“I hate you,” you redundantly declare. You head for the door. He is way over the line.

“You’ll be back.”

The aftermath is absurd. Your father is enraged, your friends will not shut up about your “date” with Nathan (and demand the details about the alleged sex you had with him).

Nathan sends flowers. Tulips (your favorite) mixed with stargazer lilies (which you’re allergic to). 'Miserable without you' the card says.

Your father half seriously threatens to kick you out

Nathan tags you on Bluebook, saying you’re going to Hawaii together, if you’ll stop being mad at him.

From there, interested people start a whole narrative online, quickly and easily convincing themselves that you’re together

He texts you for weeks (You text him back. He's funny) and even calls you sometimes.

One evening, his face appears on your screen - a call you didn't accept. "Why are you stalking me?"

"Did you pack for Hawaii yet? I sent some things over."

He's working out. No glasses. Tank top. Sweat. Muscles. Fuck, he's hot.

"Yes, Nathan, I got all twenty packages." With beautiful clothes and accessories exactly your size and style. Damn him.

"But you didn't pack?" He waves his hand dismissively. "Fuck it, I'll buy you new stuff when we get there."

You remind Nathan how he is trying to destroy your father's company, not to mention steal your inheritance, so there is definitely no way you're going to Hawaii with him.

"Come over then. No shellfish, I swear. I'll eat you out instead."

Holy shit.

You’re stupefied.

He groans.

“Are you going to stare at the screen or go outside and get in the limo? I’m waiting.”

This time, the limo takes you to a helipad. You reluctantly climb on a helicopter, briefly wondering if this is a corporate kidnapping or the first leg of your alleged Hawaiian adventure. After quite a long ride, you arrive at a well hidden, sprawling estate, tucked effortlessly into the side of a mountain.

It’s freezing, but Nathan waits for you in a light windbreaker and joggers, with bare feet.

You’re secretly thrilled that he’s waiting to greet you. He kisses your cheek almost affectionately, then turns on his heel and walks away. You follow, naturally.

Once inside, he motions to a gigantic vase filled with calla lilies. “Those are for you. My assistant sent you those fucking stargazer lilies. Well, former assistant. By the way, do you want a job?”

Your hands land on your hips. “You already tried to kill me with shellfish, so I just assumed stargazer lilies were the next logical step. And did you seriously just ask me if I want to be your personal assistant? On the heels of you stealing my inheritance?”

“My assistant made almost as much as your father pays himself before I fired him,” he scoffs, pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger. "I'm not touching your inheritance." He nods to a stack of papers. "It's all right there. Have your attorneys take a look."

Slowly you approach the table, tracing one fingertip over the beautiful calla lilies before reaching for the papers. You sigh, shaking your head. "You're talking about my dad's life work. He'll never agree."

Nathan shrugs one shoulder. "He said he would if I'd leave you alone. Never see you again, ghost you."

Your eyes go wide. "Then what am I doing here?"

He waves his hand dismissively, inching toward you. "I still have to eat you out."

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Nathan's thick beard and perfect lips have been nestled scandalously between your thighs for thirty-eight minutes. You've gushed all over him twice, in, hands down, the best orgasms you've ever had in your life.

Better than anybody before him. Better than your vibrator. And your other vibrator.

Your fingertips play with his fuzzy hair as your hips eagerly rock into his face again and again. Tears streak down your cheeks, pooling on the pillow under your hair. The overstimulation is like nothing you've ever dreamed - searing every nerve ending in delicious torture.

But you can't stop and he won't stop.

You thought he was fucking with you when he asked you to come over so he could eat you out. He hasn't even used his fingers - only his lips and tongue, stroking, licking, sucking, swirling, fucking up into you over and over. His thick fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place while his thumbs languidly trace the sensitive spot where your ass meets the back of your thigh.

Body shuddering in rapture, you teeter on the precipice of another wave of pleasure tinged with the slightest discomfort skittering along your spine because it's just too fucking much.

"Nathan...Nathan," you breathlessly moan, halfheartedly attempting to push his shoulders away from your pussy.

He raises his head just long enough to meet your blissed out, watery gaze, smiling in satisfaction. "You're close, honey. Give me one more." And dives back in without a moment's hesitation.

"oh fuck..." incoherent moans and gasps follow as he suckles your clit between his lips so tortuously your back arches off the bed. His tongue joins, rapidly flicking your swollen bud as you shatter and gush, squirting all over his tongue and soaking his beard.

Your vision goes white and your body limply falls away from his mouth as he releases you, groaning with the satisfaction that his rival's daughter is underneath him, whimpering and squirting.

His cock is so hard it hurts and he's leaked through his thin joggers, rubbing himself against your leg while he got you off. Now, as you come back to yourself, he pulls his dick out and jerks it rough and quick, licking his lips at the sigh of your glistening pussy that he can still taste in his mouth.

Your eyes flicker open to the sight of Nathan, pants pooled at his ankles, thick fingers wrapped around his dick. He was not lying. His cock is huge. Not comedically huge, like ridiculously, unfuckably huge, but definitely the thickest and longest you've ever had.

Not that you've had him. Yet.

Wetting your lips, you reach up to help him jerk off, which pulls a filthy string of curses from his lips. Pushing your fingers through his, you work up and down his shaft, bringing your other hand underneath him to cup his balls. He hisses and then groans as your tongue swirls over his leaking tip.

"If Daddy could see you now. Naked, on your knees, with my cock in your mouth. Fuck..."

You should be mad, or something. But you open your mouth wider and let Nathan push his cock all the way to the back of your throat, gagging as you swallow his tip. The most beautiful, dirty sounds you've ever heard from a man fall out of his lips as he thrusts a few times in rapid succession, praising and degrading you in the same sentence.

You can't breathe, tears burn your eyes, but through your cloudy vision, you can see his lips moving like a prayer, corded neck straining as he releases his hold in his dick and grips the nape of your neck, fucking your face, thrusting so hard you know your jaw will be sore for days.

You keep jerking him, fondling and caressing every bit of him that won't fit in your mouth. It's been a long time since you sucked a cock, and never one this big, but you keep taking it because he sounds weak for you and he's calling you his and telling you how good you feel.

Your mind fleetingly drifts to the safe word he gave you before he dove into your pussy: the one you shrugged off, as if he could possibly make you need it.

He scoffed at you. "Honey, if you don't wanna safeword tonight, I'm doing something wrong."

"Asshole," you huffed as he licked the first stripe between your folds, sending your head flying back and your mouth gasping.

You tap his leg forcefully three times and he instantly pulls out of your mouth as you gag and sputter, your weight falling forward. Bracing yourself on your hands, you drag in gulps of air, realizing that Nathan is above you finishing himself off, getting off on the fact that he's ruined you.

Hot spurts of come splatter across your bare shoulders and back. "Stay down," he orders, sent over the edge by the sight of you naked and on all fours. He unloads on you, painting your skin until he's spent. He flops back on the other end of the sofa, half naked, limp dick flopping as his eyes squeeze shut in bliss.

You're drenched in cum and sweat and your slick, filthy and somehow still wildly turned on. The thought fleetingly crosses your mind - that you wish Nathan would take your picture. Not to post, but it would just feel deliciously dirty to know he had a picture of your naked body, covered in his cum, that he could jerk off to.

"I should post a picture of you now," he lazily grins, reading your mind. "Really piss him off. Get banned from my own site."

You stand, hands landing on bare hips. "Are you going to mention my dad every time we fuck?"

He chuckles, standing to join you. "Have we even really fucked yet? Let's clean up. Our flight to Hawaii is in four hours."

"Hawaii again?" You gasp. "Nathan - "

"Look, you drive a hard bargain," he concedes, throwing his hands up. Reaching for his glasses, he kicks off his joggers off his ankles, now as naked as you. "Final offer: I'm already getting your dad's company. He's being fairly compensated. You still get your inheritance and you have generous stock in my company."

Inching forward, he reaches for the swell of your hips, pulling you flush against his muscled chest. "You get to ride my dick, you come with me to Hawaii, I get to post a selfie of us in bed together."

Your mouth drops open.

"Just from the shoulders up," he counters, before you can fire off a protest.

"I don't think I'm getting much out of this deal," you pout. "Your dick can't be that good."

"It is," he almost playfully assures you, nodding rapidly.

As you roll your eyes, he nibbles on your bottom lip. "Come on. I've never made this much effort for anyone."

"You hate my dad that much?"

"No. I want to fuck you that much."

"You're full of shit, Bateman."

"Smile." He snaps your picture. You dive for the phone, squealing at him not to post it. He had no intention of doing so, but attempting to wrestle the phone away from him is how you ended up on his living room floor, riding his huge dick.

As your eyes roll back in your head while you're coming, Nathan smirks victoriously.

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

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