#adrian moorwell x reader

[love-toxin]

hi! hello! just wanna say that i will give Tsung, Mel, Seóirse, Makoi, Adrain and Shura the most sloppiest, wettest, creamiest, soul taking, life changing, death dropping, flabbergasting, hypnotizing, heavenly, astonishing, leg trembling, hands desperately grabbing the sheets, leg shaking, toe curling, voice breaking, whimper causing head. (not my words, but i live by them.)

let's explore this anon :)

(cws: gn!darling, bullying, humiliation kink, orgasm denial, "dubcon" but not really, spit, teasing, gagging, extended cum release™, name-calling, dom/sub dynamics)

Tsung Lý

"Please please please please ple--please--fuck-!"

Tsung could never just shut up when you were doing your thing. God forbid you ever wanted to get frisky with him outside the bedroom, he'd probably alert the whole city to your activites and you'd have to deal with your boyfriend getting all scared and fidgety when you were just trying to get some.

"Shut up." You huffed as you brought your head up, mouth slick and lips swollen from the treatment you'd been giving him. "You're too loud."

"I'm s-sorry, baby." Tsung's whines only served to irritate you more. He was such a wimp. That quivering lower lip--no wonder everyone thought of him as a freak. You gave him a tough squeeze and he doubled over on himself, shoulders shaking as he gripped your head and tried desperately not to make a sound. The slow, wet strokes of your fist up his soaked cock filled the air with hushed, laborious breathing from his panting chest. You wanted desperately to mock him for being so hard again, but that would undoubtedly only make him hornier.

"I-I...I wanna cum-"

"You can't."

"Please."

You rolled your eyes, and wordlessly, you stuck your head back down and nuzzled it into his lap, your hair sliding through his fingers as he babbled out some plea that soon melted into nothing more than a cry of pleasure. The moment your lips touched his cock, all thought was out the window.

"Please, baby!" He cried hoarsely, desperately begging with every stroke of your tongue on his spit-soaked length. "I-I'm gonna die! Lemme cum, please, ple-hease!"

As much as you wanted to remind him "You're not gonna die from getting sucked off" it wouldn't make a difference anyways. Tsung's fingers tightened around your head, he bucked once, and he was in your throat--miles and miles deeper in than he could handle without creaming it up like a milk carton exploding.

"Glk-!" The sound of your gagging only made him stiffen up more as he came. While your nails digging into his thighs surely hurt, Tsung's grip just tightened on your head and he wouldn't let you up--in the heat of the moment, apologies spilled off his lips for his terrible indiscretion of holding your head down while he beat your poor throat raw with needy thrusts. All that filled your ears was the wet shlucking of his cum filling your throat, lubing him up to glide with relative ease despite how tight you were clenching around him. "It's like fucking one of your other holes. It hurts. It feels so good. I love you!"

Over a minute later, you finally managed to pry yourself off of his lap with a bout of coughing and gasping desperately for air. The slime that coated your mouth all the way down tasted of nothing but salt on your tongue, while Tsung laid back as gutless as ever, pale thighs shaking gently as his cock continued to spurt little jets of milky-white pearls all over himself.

"F-Fffelt so good..." He gasped as if risen from the dead, though Tsung could still barely move since he was still--still!--cumming. And he wondered why you made him wait for his orgasms. Because of this.

"Making a goddamned mess." You muttered with a hoarse throat, yet your mouth started to wet as you watched his jerky thrusts into empty air. Salivating. Drooling over a preppy freak that you found humping your pillow, and just took ownership of him since he praised the ground you walked on anyways. Tsung was a million walking red flags, and he was a creep that obsessed over you so much he basically developed a crazy sex habit cause of you. Because you're so "perfect" in his words.

You laid your head on his thigh and watched his quivering slowly draw to a close, the cum stop bubbling up, and his breathing finally even out. A series of sticky little puddles soaked into your sheets below him, the dip of his stomach, the tip where it all collected--you leaned in to lap it up and wriggled your tongue against his slit, which earned you a yelp and a desperate hand on your shoulder like he wanted you to stop. As if. The sensitivity was just a bit much.

"C-Can't do another-"

"Yes you can." You gripped his thick shaft with slick fingers, each one wetted with your spit as you let a glob of it drool out of your mouth. "You ruined it for me, try it again."

"Nooooo-" He moaned weakly and squirmed, but wouldn't pull your wrist away from him. It was all just an act, a show, and loathe as you were to give him a compliment he was an incredible actor. He could even turn your focus away from the gleam in his scarlet eyes at the thought of being touched again, of being forced to cum again, but as good as he was at pretending nothing could hide how easily he grew stiff in your hand again. Tsung shed tears as you started your strokes and began the process anew...yet you were certain that the second he got the chance, he would take over and cum in your mouth without permission, again. Again, and again, and again--that's how it always went, right up until he couldn't take your magnificent torture anymore and passed out cold and sticky.

This little freak was so fucking dead--once you worked up the stamina to punish him properly, that is.

(cws: gn!darling, brat taming, cockwarming, choking, lazy sex, extra spicy teasing)

Mel Mimiya

Mel had so little pomp and circumstance in matters of carnal pleasure--if he hadn't explained his reasons to you, you would've thought he simply couldn't be bothered to put in the same effort with you that he gave to his clients at the hybrid club. For them he would purr, and stretch, and jingle around in that little bell collar, tending to every one of their needs with a smile and a sweet voice.

But at home he was an animal, and nothing more. He humped your face with urgent vigour some days, while others he laid back and let you bring yourself to all the heights you pleased while he watched. Though no matter what, he always looked at you as though you held the world. Today was no exception.

It had been quite the long day, however. Mel was tired. Lazy. Hadn't gotten enough of a nap on his break. Now, he was taking it out on you--his adorable partner that really missed him while he was out.

"Use your tongue," He murmured amongst his nest of blankets, all laid out like some prince on his royal bed. "Lick it slow, sweetie. Had a long day."

Only half-listening, you proceeded with your plan of working him right down your throat--while his day was long and full of exertion, yours was long and occupied with nothing but thoughts of going home and going to town on your catty boyfriend. He put you in your place the minute you had him in your mouth, though. Mel flicked your forehead gently as you choked down all his inches at once, forcing you to start and pull back off with a cough. "Slow, I said. You're such a little shit-stirrer." He chided, laughing in that breathy, nearly hoarse voice of his that made your stomach twist in knots. "So needy."

"You like it." You pouted, flicking out your tongue to at least get a taste of him, which he would've paid for dearly if he hadn't allowed it.

"I do." Mel reached down and ruffled your hair with a loving, gentle touch. God, his smile could spin gold, undoubtedly. "But I'm tired, baby."

"Then let me help you relax." Your fingers squished as they wrapped around his length, your slow strokes coaxing a whine out of his throat that made him tilt back his chin in pleasure. You watched with giddy glee at his lithe tail coming alive to loosely wrap around your forearm as you did so.

"You don't even know the meaning of the word," Mel gasped, but once again, you weren't listening. Your attention was zeroed in on the way his slit pooled with a clear liquid, the little puddle atop his cock gleaming in the dim lights you turned down to set the mood. "Don't ignore me. I know you can hear me."

His stern tone really didn't do as much when he could barely keep his voice from cracking, nor his hips from squirming away from the stimulating touch of your hand. The second flick of your tongue sent him reeling, and his ringed fingers grasped at the sheets with the softest, whiniest "myaow!".

"Good kitty." Your moan rumbled right through his lap, your lips far too eager to take him in despite how squirmy he was already.

"B-Bad human," Mel gasped right back. The glower on his face right then would scare off any prey--but you had something you wanted, and only the utterance of his safe word would keep you from getting it. He so rarely used it though, because he really just liked being a tease. "You need a leash." His last syllable ended on a groan that sent delectable shivers all down your spine. "A muzzle, too."

Just to show him what you really needed, you twisted your grip at the base and made his hips buck, incidentally plowing past the roof of your mouth with a deep hiss. Mel's tail flicked to and fro while he squeezed his eyes shut, only for one of those violet irises to squint down at you with a growl at the sight he beheld. Your lips pressed right against the flattest dip of his belly, thin, dark hairs tickling your nose where you'd seated yourself. Mel couldn't help but watch with held breath as your face grew darker and hotter the longer you kept yourself down; yet you wouldn't come up for air until the very last moment you had to.

Both his furry ears twitched with delight and a sense of pride, to say nothing of the utter heat you brought on by enveloping his entire length in such a tight, soft hole that kept spasming and pulsing around him the longer you warmed him.

Mel's fingertips brushed the hair from your eyes to see you better. The vision of you like this, for him, would never fail to remind him of all he had to be grateful for--even when the moment was broken by you frantically yanking your head back and coughing as he slid out from your lips, your head obviously spinning from the deprivation as you immediately took a minute to clear your throat--and catch your breath, of course. You knelt there with a hand on your chest, huffing and puffing ad nauseum, until a peal of clear laughter rung out and Mel flopped back into the sheets.

"You're way too cute. Try again--take a deep breath this time, sweetie. Let's train those lungs of yours, ah?"

(cws: gn!darling, size difference, bondage, cock worship, soft -> rough, selkie heat cycles in action)

Seóirse Braonain

"Baby, you're gonna break the bed."

Seóirse was aghast. How you could blitz him with one of the wettest, sloppiest, bone-rattling orgasms he'd had in his life, and expect him not to start going numb and dazed and flailing about when you started back up all over again...it was criminal. It was foul.

But it was something he needed desperately, as humiliated as he was to admit it. He was a creature that desired pleasure, as many were, but more particular he was than that--he needed pleasure from you, or else what was the point of even living? If your attention wasn't on him, what the hell did he even wake up in the mornings for?

There were caveats to that, though. For one, Seóirse was big. Like, big. So in order to make sure he didn't rip a hole in your throat, or choke you to the point of collapsing one of your lungs...

...You had to come to this humiliating conclusion. He had to be tied down like an animal, bound at the wrists and ankles--subdued--and only then would you get down on your knees and service him as if it were your only job in the world.

And the worst part was that you were right. Deep down, when you had your hands on his thighs like you did right now, and you were teasing his third leg with those dastardly kitten licks? All Seóirse wanted to do was grab your head in his enormous hands and thrust. He wanted your belly pumped so full of cum he could see it swell. He wanted you to cough out his seed for a week after he was done.

But he wanted to be a good boy, and he didn't want to hurt you. So he let you tie him up to the bed, and he tried, god, he tried not to let his strength overwhelm you as you played with his cock in your soft hands.

"Mwah," Another kiss pecked so delicately to his tip, which had already flushed so dark it was nearly purple. The blood that rushed to his privates in heated moments like these always made his mind fuzzy--it made it so much harder for him to think straight, which was why he usually tried to enter you when he was only half-soft. That was....lower down, though. Your mouth was different. Much different. He could stand completely at attention and not hurt you, not even have to worry about stretching you too much or going too deep, especially when he was tied up as he was right now.

But the problem was you. When he could see that determination in your eyes, the grin on your lips, the way you poised yourself over his legs and looked at him like he was a treat?

Oh, he was completely done for.

Your lips pressed together in a soft line, glossy and wet from your own spit and the water wetting his skin from his latest swim. You always teased that he tasted of saltwater, but it never seemed to bother you--nor did the sudden, weighty shift of his erection as it twitched, excited from the warm air you puffed against it. You laughed and your eyes sparkled, and your kiss...it soon turned into more.

Seóirse watched with wide eyes as you moved to swallow the tip, how your lips managed to stretch around the blubbery flesh without pause. You were getting good at this. Your nostrils flared with a soft inhale to prepare, and you bobbed your head down--far enough that it was only an inch or two, but enough for his arms to strain against the buckles in an instinctive desire to ensure you were okay.

"M-My love?" He tensed, fist closing and releasing suddenly at the pulse of your heart around him. You merely glanced up at him and winked with a soft stroke to his inner thigh. I'm okay. That's what your gestures told him, though could he be blamed when his own size was the reason you had to train yourself to take him? He knew he would see a bulge in your throat soon, and once you fit a little more in it appeared, and he suddenly started having a much harder time just staying still.

His left foot yanked on the leather cuff around it as he writhed, the material squeaking wretchedly against his skin as his body jerked of its own accord. Your mouth was just so warm. Your tongue slaked over each vein with loving precision, every sensitive cell in his body crying out in the face of your unwavering worship. He wished so badly to be half the size just so he could ravish you without restriction, so that these damned restraints could be thrown out and he could fuck you and ravage your body like-

Cree-aack!

Seóirse's eyes flitted from you, to his left wrist, and back to you again. The cuff, once attached by a chain and padlock to the corner of the bedframe, still hung snug and tight around his giant wrist. However, the wooden pillar of his bedframe had snapped off completely, leaving the broken piece to fall and tumble to the floor by the bed with a clatter, leaving the chain to dangle uselessly from his cuff.

What possessed him to then reach down and grab your head was pure, unadulterated selkie lust, and nothing more of his reasonable mind. Seóirse yanked your mouth up and off his cock with whatever self-control still remained, and in an insatiable heat, pulled you by the back of your head to smush those pretty lips against his shaft.

Thank god you were so understanding. You would understand his desires--hell, you had a dopey grin on your face the moment he took control, and ground his dick against your face in long, deep strokes. The spit and water and precum that dribbled and soaked him down to the balls was all that could save you from the immense friction of him thrusting that monster against your face, his attention especially focused on those lips that kissed and licked and suckled around whatever spots you could manage to latch on to. This was the only way to fuck you without injury, without permanently scarring his one true love--and with the giddiness that came over you as he climaxed faster and harder than he ever had before, and painted your face with pearls of creamy, thick seed like he'd never have the courage to do when he made love to you before...

Well, maybe he would just have to make this new way of lovemaking a guilty pleasure habit.

(cws: gn!darling [w/ one unserious mention of 'princess'], dirty talk, facefucking, rimming mention, degradation, mild humiliation)

Makoi Azumako

"We literally just fucked."

"And?"

Your head poised over his lap, your hand resting at the base of his hip. Makoi had barely caught his breath before you were shimmying down there, your body still wet with sweat and spit so your skin gave off a sheen in the dim light. He'd only lit a few lamps in the paper lanterns around the room, though the futon was soft enough not to make much noise in the night as you shuffled around. The last thing you wanted was to wake up one of his relatives in the house, especially after just getting away with being all cozy under the covers.

"You want me to suck you off, or not?"

"Well...shit, I won't say no." He sighed, and folded his arms back to rest his head against them. "You're really a fuckin' freak, though."

"I'll bite you."

"Fuckin' do it." Makoi grinned down at you. He could never let you get the drop on him--he was always so smug. "Show me those teeth, kitty. Bet the blood turns you on. Freak."

"M'not actually gonna bite you."

"Good, or I'd have to beat your ass." He narrowed his eyes and reached down. His fingers slid with confidence around his soft knob of flesh, the limp appendage stirring as his grip tightened around the base. "Now get to work. Ain't gonna lick itself."

"Asshole." You muttered with a huff, easing your tongue out to swipe a lick over the warm mound of muscle. It still tasted of you from earlier.

"Wanna lick that too? Then keep the tone, brat." Just as he spoke, a gasp that was too soft for his attitude fluttered off his lips, and he settled lower into the pillows to enjoy himself.

"...Maybe a little bit."

"Freak." He groaned with an arch of his back as your tongue met the base of his shaft, his fingers fisting into the pillows under his head. "Tell you what, you can shove your tongue up there if I get this kinda head every day. Ffffuuuuck..." His voice slurred, eyes rolling back the second your lips met his sack. "Goddamn angel mouth. Give it a kiss, princess."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, the exact one that he used to tease you more often than not. Makoi guided his cock by the base to tap the head between your eyes, and with little provocation--despite how degrading his command was--your sticky lips met his tip and you flicked out your tongue to lap up the salty, bitter taste of precum. He urged you on all the while, watching greedily as you swallowed inch by inch his thick, veiny cock, up until your nose was buried in a bush of black hairs at the base.

"Mmh." He laid back again, one hand perched behind his head while the other gripped yours through your hair, just to make sure you stayed in place. Just to tease, he tilted your head in a slow circle to watch how your throat bulged with his length, to see how your eyes watered until you beat once on his thigh and he let you pull off and sputter before you choked. Makoi laughed, and in the midst of you huffing out another insult, he gripped your hair again and shoved you down open-mouthed on his dick again, ensuring you took in every last inch again like the good cockwarmer you were.

"Just shut up for once, babe. Sound so much cuter with a mouth fulla dick." He humped his hips once just to see your reaction, and at the sight of you braced to take him without gagging he couldn't help but let out a pleased sigh. "Yeah, you like that? Bet you love suckin' on this fat fuckin' cock. E'en more than you love humpin' it, right?" He cackled wickedly as his hips slowly started to pump against your face, voice slurring at a faster pace now that he had a warm hole to plunge into. He was always like that. Cockdrunk, but it was almost always his own cock he got high off of.

Shluk, shluk, shluk, shluk--the sound vibrated in your ears with each thrust, the tip of Makoi's dick making a distinct smack each time it kissed the back of your throat. His hips forced your head to tilt back each time, like every buck was a strike to the face, and the feel of his balls smushing against your chin when he paused and slapping the skin wetly when he didn't was just plain degrading. Mako loved to embarrass you in private, but maybe you also just liked to be embarrassed, too.

"Fuckin' like that?" You could just slap that smirk right off his face, whether it got you off or not. Makoi's chest heaved over your face with long, laborious breaths; whether he liked it or not, he couldn't keep up a pace this dirty for long. Not with you. Not when you were just an absolute angel for him. "Suck dick so fffuckin' good, christ-"

A cord snapped in your boyfriend--something deep and primal, no doubt--and in a matter of seconds, his hands were gripping your shoulders and he was throwing you over on your back, his cockhead just barely smearing your own spit on your lips before he plowed his way back in; now with his knees by your head and his body hunched over you from the neck up. With one hand gripping the back of your head and the other glued to the floor by his totally sweat-soaked futon, Makoi's voice rumbled through your body with a string of vile comments one after another: "G'nna fuck you fuckin' stupid after", "Don't you dare goddamn spit", "Lessee that fuckin' gag reflex"--each word vibrated through your very bones and had you moaning around the bulge wedged deep in your throat, in exactly the spot where Makoi pounded in his last thrust before there's a groan that you're sure resonated throughout the whole house.

Glug. Glug. Glug. Glug. The noises your swallowing made were enough to plaster a dazed grin across Makoi's face, who seemed more than satisfied with feeling your throat rise and fall with his hand cupped over it. Then, and only then, would he slowly slide his way out with a final pop and a breathy sigh at the milky trail he left down your chin. Still grinning like an idiot, he brushed his thumb over the sticky skin and licked it off, before planting a kiss squarely on your swollen lips.

"Fuckin' cutie. So lucky you're mine."

(cws: gn!darling, established marriage, hatefucking, rough sex, crying, adrian's submissive & breedable for once...sorta)

Adrian Moorwell

Adrian was barely through the front door when you jumped him.

It was a surprise attack--no particular occasion, you just couldn't help but get worked up through the day. Your husband was gone too long and you'd been fighting for the whole weekend. Part of you thought he might've been happy to get away from you and your complaining, if only for a bit. But it seemed as though he was only in shock as you dropped to your knees and pawed at him, ripping open his pants so fiercely you popped both buttons off. He'd have to sew them back on later. For now, you had one thing on your mind.

"Honey--honey, wait! L-Let me get the door closed-" Adrian stumbled, his file folders hitting the floor for papers to scatter as he fumbled with the door handle behind him. Too late. You already had his pants halfway down his thighs, and though you had few neighbors to snoop on you, perhaps the birds living in the trees that lined the walkway would forever be traumatized by your face planted squarely in your husband's crotch.

You hummed almost absentmindedly as your lips sealed around the crease in his tight boxers--you thanked god he always wore the ones close to his skin, because without even an ounce of stiffness in it, you could see the imprint of his cock in them from a mile away. You wouldn't bother with pulling them down; it was more entertaining to feel him pulling lightly on your hair when you started suckling him through the wetted fabric.

"Shit!" A rare curse exploded out of his mouth as the door thudded closed, and with a thump his back fell against it and you had Adrian in the palm of your hands--or more aptly, on the flat of your tongue. Even you could hardly believe the sheer length of him bundled up in all those tight pants his students would gawk at and whisper about, and even colleagues of his would wonder between themselves if he really was packing all that people thought he was. If you ever cared to assure them, you would say that he most certainly was.

Adrian fiddled with his fingers on your scalp for a moment before shakily speaking up. "I f-ffigured you were still-"

"I'm still pissed." You cut him off, and he flinched as if you had bit him. Honestly, you were more annoyed that he forced you to pull yourself away to answer rather than what he asked in itself. "Take it out."

"Wh--Why?"

"I wanna see it."

Finally, Adrian huffed, and his attitude started to come out as he straightened himself out--though he gave in and kicked his pants completely off his legs first, leaving him only in a pair of underwear with the biggest, darkest stain on the front.

"I'm your husband, not a whore."

"Just show it to me."

He sighed, and against his better judgement, he slid his thumbs beneath the waist of his wine-coloured boxers and slowly peeled them down his hips, the fabric rolling up in waves as they came down those long, dark legs. Even still half-soft, his cock stood out impressively against the rest of his lower half, though he stood awkwardly in his front hall still wearing his turtleneck from a day of teaching classes. Next to his spouse that he'd been fighting with all weekend, suddenly on your knees for him. You moved in for the kill, but at the last second Adrian's rough palm stopped you by the forehead and gently pushed you back.

"You're not doing this in the hallway." Ignoring your huff and the pout spelled out on your lips, he stepped past you and trusted you would scramble up to follow, which you did. "Let's go to the bedroom."

"S'too far." You replied from behind, and in the instant that Adrian stepped through the doorway into the sitting room, you let slip a smirk and started pushing him back until he stumbled and fell backwards into the sofa. Not even his scowl could mask the wide-eyed stare he gave you once you stood over him and stripped off the robe you'd been wearing since your afternoon shower. Even in the heat of an argument, he couldn't deny the power your body held over him at any given time.

You threw the robe at his face and on instinct, he breathed in despite his annoyance at having his view blocked. The moment he yanked it off and tossed it aside, you'd already gotten down again and crept towards his lap like a lion stalking its prey. Over the arm of the sofa you clambered, and before he could sit up completely your five fingers met his chest and you shoved him back against the other arm, your eyes dark and misty with lust.

"Honestly, I wanna fuck you, but you pissed me off too much this week." You murmured as you pawed your way down his body to his lap, so your knees propped your ass up while your cheek came to rest on his inner thigh, inches away from your prize. "So I'm gonna suck you off, and you're gonna take it, and then I'm gonna find something to do while you sit here and mope."

"I don't mope." Adrian scowled down at you. "At least give me a kiss first."

For his demands, you leaned up and pecked him carelessly on the lips before returning to your position.

"See that? It's called a compromise." Your teasing earned you a roll of the eyes from your husband, who you could tell had had about enough of you dredging up your recent string of arguments.

"Why don't you just save your words and get to it?"

Oh, now he was getting spicy. You masked a huge grin and went to work almost immediately--the flat of your tongue met his tip and Adrian gasped, his hips could barely stay still on the couch and lifted the moment he felt you touch him skin-to-skin. His hand flew to your head but it wasn't to stop you this time, rather it was to hold himself in place like an anchor as you slobbed your soft tongue messily all over his lap. Thank god your nearest neighbors were all the way down the road, or you'd be subject to some noise complaints for sure--and maybe some 911 calls for the times your husband moaned like he was being fucking murdered.

“Jesus! Ssslow down, fuck, fuck-!” Adrian's voice cracked into a pitchy whine that pierced right through your ears, and if you could smirk with a mouthful of him, you would. His waist jerked sideways as his body inched away from the intense shocks of pleasure, nearly toppling you off the couch in the process. With a hand planted on either side of the dips where his hips and waist met, you used your leverage to pin your husband's body down to the cushions. No matter the hands that pushed on your head or his pitiful begging as you noisily sucked down his dick, he had something you wanted and nothing was gonna stop you from taking it. Rather than pull off to gloat, you let him see the bulge of his own cock nestled in your cheek, and teased him with the warmth you rubbed all over it in that little pouch of heat and spit.

This'll show my prick of a husband the meaning of spite. That was the thought that came to your mind in that moment, and understandably so. Your plan initially was to work him up, blueball him, and leave him hanging all night. That was what he deserved for being such an asshole during all those fights you had over the weekend, because Adrian wasn't usually so clingy and with such a bad attitude as he was then–nor was he usually so cold during whatever fights you had over your marriage. It actually really hurt your feelings. But you didn't want to tell him that.

But contrary to your initial frustrations, you knew your plan was abandoned when you peered up at him and saw the glisten of tears trailing down his face.

“Please,” He mumbled in a quiet, soft tone. “I love the way you make me feel.” He couldn't quite get those next two words out; “Don't stop”. So you decided to spell each letter out with your tongue, and watched as Adrian's head hit the arm of the couch while he shrieked with the pleasure wracking his oversensitive body. Maybe later you'd bother to ask what had him strung so tight that whole time, and he'd tell you about all those ugly reasons why he felt so possessive over you. How the voice at the back of his head told him he needed to own you. But whenever you reminded him of your love for him, he just melted into a puddle of worship and wonder why on earth you would ever love a messed-up old man like him.

Either way, he was an “old man” that was getting his dick sucked into the netherworld tonight. Adrian never had any idea how much his teary eyes turned you on, at least not until you kissed them off his cheeks and slid your ass up into his lap. Fuck leaving him high and dry–not even the worst frustrations in the world could keep you from watching your husband's eyes roll back in pleasure as you rode the professor brainless.

(cws: gn!darling, dubcon, noncon photography, exhibitionism, "i got sold to the azumakos" wattpad plotline, cum drinking, praise, pet names)

Shura Roanoke

"Would you look at that shit?" Shura's grin was like a panther's--unsettling and surely up to no good. Click. The flash on his camera blinded you momentarily, but the spots blotting your vision was nothing unusual by now. In fact, you were just getting used to it.

"Smile. Oh, wait--looks like you've got your mouth full." His laugh was like the windchimes you'd heard from the neighbor's porches; clear and soft, yet it pierced through the din of the dark room you were in and the red lights that accented it. As the sound of your spit shucking as it lubed up your lips, the yakuza pressed his thumb to your cheek and implored you to open them wider. Don't wanna hurt the new toy.

That was what you were here for. Your father was a yakuza head--and a bad one at that. He'd stolen money from the wrong people many times, and made enemies of those he should never have even been in the same rooms with. But when it came to gambling, he was all in all the time. And when the Azumakos came knocking to collect his enormous debt to them, he left you at their mercy and skipped town to escape what he'd wrought. "Piece of shit." That was Shura's first comment to you when he arrived at the sketchy little hovel where you'd been left, but you'd soon learn once you saw his grin and listened to his proposition that he wasn't talking about you--but that didn't matter anymore. As far as they were concerned, you were now an Azumako with all the rest of them.

"Show me those pretty eyes, pumpkin. Wanna get a good shot, yeah?" Shura aimed his phone down and brushed the hair from your face, just in time for another click and to see his expression light up at the newest photo on his screen. "Oh-ho, Mako is gonna love you. Suck it more-" His shoulders shook when you obeyed, and his eyes rolled back in the moment at the tight squeeze around his dick, which he'd buried right to the hilt in your soft, warm mouth. "-Shiiiiit, that's good. Don't even need another hole, yeah? Think I'm fine with just this one."

Apparently growing satisfied with the album's worth of photos he'd taken of you choking down his cock, Shura set his phone aside and leaned into the kiss of his tip against the back of your throat, head tilted back in pleasure as he gripped the seat beneath him. The other yakuza that were with him had dispersed somewhat to look around for members of your father's gang, but a few hung around in casual conversation nearby as if Shura getting blown two feet from them was totally normal. You'd learn later that they weren't part of the core "family", just some low-level thugs and gangsters who needed cash and a bodyguard job. But the few pairs of eyes burning holes into you weren't unnoticed, and Shura gingerly stroked your hair as if he was trying to comfort you.

"Ignore them, sweetness. Just wanna watch the show is all--you're all mine." He dipped down to whisper that last part, before leaning back with a deep sigh as he eased your head down to bob it on his lap again. One of his bodyguards came up within a few inches of you and muttered something in his ear, which Shura didn't seem to care one way or another if you heard or not.

"...Mhm. Well, take care of him, then. Make him pay, yeah?" The other man in the suit vanished from the room, and Shura looked down on you with a peaceful smile.

"That's it. Just keep stroking me with that soft tongue. Y'know, Makoi can find whoever he wants to get him off--I kinda like the idea of making you mine." He tilted his head at you, peering into your very soul as his hand guided your head up and down, up and down his thick cock. "Yeah? You like that? Wanna be my little arm candy? I bet you'll like gettin' licked out every night. I'm a fair guy--scratch my back, I scratch yours. You can't imagine what my tongue can do."

He winked down at you, and the laugh that escaped him melted into a fuzzy, open-mouthed moan that he couldn't even try to hold in.

"That's it, that's it, that's it--more, lil' more, just--fuck--u-use your tongue on the--fffuck, there!"

The sweet spot he was guiding you to, wherever it really was, seemed to work more than wonders as Shura's voice cracked and he threw his head back against the chair. You watched with awe as his adam's apple bobbed in time with his gasps of your name, and your mouth flooded suddenly with an immense heat--one that you couldn't hope to combat, only to bear as ropes of sticky seed shot down your tongue and into the depths of your throat. Shura held you there firmly to take in every sloshing ounce of cum that spilled on to the bed of your swollen tongue, every bitter swallow until his thumb ran across your lower lip and you opened up to show him a clean mouth.

"Ohhh! Impressive!" He laughed jubilantly while tucking himself back into his pants like nothing happened. While the future ahead was still hazy and scary, at least Shura's optimism was comforting. But his smirk as he picked his phone back up, and the possessive touch of his hand as he pulled you up on his lap was...less so.

"Now, let's pick out the best pictures to send to the guys. They're nice, I promise--you're gonna love your new big brothers, pumpkin."

[yanverse]

If Adrian ever decided to wear his piercings again, I would gladly help him keep them clean n gib him lil smooches <3

If you asked, he would definitely put his tongue stud back in. That's the one he misses the most, and he's willing to get it re-pierced--and it's much easier to hide, because he doesn't feel that at his age he could really "rock" those piercings like he did as a young, dumb teenager. But the tongue piercing....yeah. He'd get it redone for you. And just for you...>:)

[hearteyes-candyskies]

freya’s got nothing on this, baby (oc x reader)

a/n; adrian moorwell is the lovely @love-toxin‘s oc, please go check out them out! as you can see, i’m in love with the new daddy ;) professor, but there’s someone for everyone, and i mean it. love-toxin is so wonderful at making everyone feel included and great if you need a little pick me up.

summary; we love syllabus week. adrian thinks he might love you

word count; 850

-------

Lavender. That’s the first thing you register as you walk into your Nordic Studies class at nine in the morning, cheeks stinging from the crisp autumn air. You take a second to survey the classroom, noting the desks clustered together, and then, noting how few there are. 

Sixteen, to be exact. 

A soft cough draws your attention back to the front of the room, the source of your lovely lavender hue, and suddenly your cheeks are no longer stinging from just your walk here. 

Striking purple eyes, drawn to you from your arrival, long, chestnut hair gleaming under a soft beam of sunlight, a strong jaw clenched as the owner takes in your form- Adonis would be a fitting name for him.

You think you’re really going to like this class. 

The soft thud of a book being set on the table jolts you out of your reverie, and you can feel the blood rushing to your face as your professor pushes his chair back and stands. You swing your backpack off your shoulders, setting it by your chair, and then hastily settle into your seat as he approaches. 

His cologne reaches you first, a subtly, spicy musk that hints at its hefty price tag, and then, when the man himself finally reaches you, you can’t help but notice how he towers over your smaller frame.

“Hi, I’m Professor Moorwell. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He extends a hand, presumably for you to shake, and his voice is smooth and low, reminding you of plush velvet or a smooth glass of whiskey-

You flush even harder. What are you, a twelve year old girl on Wattpad? 

“It’s great to meet you too!” Your voice comes out higher pitched with a tinge of squeakiness, and instantly, you want to die. This is how you introduce yourself to your super hot, very professional professor? Great. 

As you slip your hand in his, you can’t help but notice the calloused pads of his fingertips, specifically the edges near his nails. His grip is firm, squeezing tight for a languid bob up and down before releasing your hand in such a way that the tips of his fingers brush along your palm. You do your best not to shiver. 

“I-, sorry, do you play the cello?” You cringe a little at how awkward and specific your question is, hurrying along to try and ease the situation.

“It’s just, your fingertips are so calloused and in a very specific place, it just seems like-, like you play a string instrument.” Great, now your professor’s going to think you’re a creep and you’re going to fail this class because you’ll be too busy thinking of how you fucked up to pay attention and you’ll be too ashamed to go to office hours and-

“I do, actually. You have a keen eye for details, I see.” You take a quick break from trying to melt into a puddle of goo to look, caught off guard by the compliment, and immediately blush when you see the soft smile curving at the corner of his lips. 

“Oh, thanks.” You can’t help but beam back reflexively, taking advantage of his eyes on your face to wipe the sweat off your palms.

“I don’t think I quite caught your name; it would be a shame not to have a name to put to one of my brightest students.” Surprisingly, your face does not catch on fire, though you feel yourself begin to sweat.

“I’m y/n. Y/n l/n, in case there’s another y/n in here.” You dredge up the last of your wits enough to form a coherent and hopefully, witty sentence, secretly patting yourself on the back for how steady and strong your voice is. 

You’re too busy preening over your ability to string together multi-word sentences to notice how your professor’s eyes darken at the sweet little smile of triumph on your face. You do notice the low chuckle he lets out, deep and dark as he rests a large hand on your shoulder. 

“Well, in case there are any other Professors called Moorwell, my name is Adrian. Adrian Moorwell.” You find yourself transfixed by the intense look in his eyes as he stares into yours, but jerk out of it when he gives your shoulder a brief squeeze.

“Again, it’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n. I’m sure I’ll see great things from you this semester.” His hand lingers for a beat too long, a pit of uneasiness building in your stomach before he finally lifts it away. 

“Yes, thank you so much Professor.” Neither of you miss the way your fists clench, or the way Adrian’s jaw ticks at the sound of you calling him ‘professor’.

“Don’t miss a class; I would hate to have to track you down.” Purple eyes fix you in place, more so than his grip ever could, and you nod your head slowly, almost leaning in as your professor towers over you.

Lavender is the only thing you see, the only colour in your field of vision.

[yanverse]

I’m curious how the yans would react to their darling suggesting being free use? Some of them would never act right EVER again; but I also think some would start out too nervous to make a move, but once they do it a few times, they become something of a menace.

prrrrr.......free use, you say? i have.......ideas >:) (lmk if u want more! <3)

Elias, Kaito, Lilith, Isabelle, Adrian, Nina

(cws: free use kink, domination, degradation, dressing up, fingering, overstimulation, messy sex)

Elias obviously needs to keep you around while he's working, and it just so happens that he's also in need of a good secretary for his practice. Win-win! He can have the best of both worlds: keep you close enough that he can see you whenever he wants, and you've got something to busy yourself with when he gives you paperwork--but aside from filing a few things you basically just get to mess around on the computer while he's in session. And unless you're into it, you won't be hearing any questionable noises and thumping through the wall--he's had to rebrand and lost some repeat customers, but he's a taken man now, so no more shenanigans.

Of course, that means you've got a much hornier, much needier cowboy on your hands than you're used to. He doesn't need to jerk off between clients or on his break anymore if the mood hits him midday--that's what he's got you for now, right? He can just waltz out of his office, tap you on the shoulder, and drop to his knees right there. Worried you'll get caught, that someone might walk in early or a solicitor will drop by? Then you just need to stay nice and quiet while he's under your desk. He might just end up leaving indents in the floor from the spurs on his boots, cause it's so easy and you're so accessible and you don't even have to stop working! In fact, if he's in the mood to tease, he might dangle the threat of stopping over your head if you don't keep working while he goes down on you.

But knowing him, there'll be an equal chance of him rushing over, locking the door to the office, and just throwing you over the desk like he can't wait a second longer to have you. There's a reason he's got so much time in between his clients, and it's because there's no better time to mess up his cute little secretary, and make sure you have to sit with his cum leaking down your legs the rest of the day.

Kaito has half a mind to just sit you on his lap all day. He doesn't have to go out for work, he barely leaves the house as is, and you're around each other most of the time anyways. Why not? He could game or tweak his latest sketches with you settled and comfy on his lap, his cock twitching softly inside you with those pretty mewls of yours perking him up. That, to him, is heaven.

If that's not the case, though, then sparing a hand to entertain you is just as good. Especially if you're in an argument, or if he's mad at you, or if he's just annoyed but not in the mood to talk about it. He doesn't even have to be paying attention, but more than likely you'll be begging for him to give you some.

With the spare seat next to him and his eyes glued to his computer screen, he only needs one hand to fiddle with his tablet pen as he shades his latest drawing. And all the while he has his fingers buried between your legs, his reactions minimal as you soak his chair with sweat and grab at his sleeve in desperation. You keep cumming all over yourself, you're a mess, and he's already gonna have to clean you up after so at least don't distract him. Each orgasm aches more than the last with overstimulation melting your brain into your skull, but you won't even stop him. You probably could, but why would you? He said it himself: he's gonna clean you up when he's done, you just have to wait until he finishes up. But knowing Kaito, odds are he's gonna make you much, much messier before he actually gets to that part.

Lilith loves providing for you. She loves to make you happy, to come home with money and food and love, and to shower you with everything she has without you having to lift a finger. You love her, you've done enough.

But when the opportunity to bus tables at her restaurant comes around, it's a hard deal to ignore. Extra income, extra time together, and extra chances for you to socialize and put in some hard work? If you're all over it then she can't exactly say no. A good girlfriend wouldn't say no to such a simple request. It may have her biting her nails at first, but seeing you succeed fills her with a feeling of pride that gives her an extra spring in her step on those extra-hard days.

But she's lucky that the diner has so few willing waitresses and such a small staff to begin with, because you two can get so close to getting caught with your pants down. She'd never consider getting off at work before this, but with you so present and available all the time...shooting her those lusty looks across the dining room, bending over just a little too far while you're cleaning tables, brushing by her just a little too close while she's taking an order...if she didn't pull you into the bathroom and push you up against the stall, she might just go crazy. Whether it's your hand up her skirt or hers down yours, it really doesn't matter--if you're going to let her touch you whenever she wants, then she has to take advantage of it. Nearly every break soon turns into a chance to get away, her lunch swapped out for a glorious ten minutes with your legs spread, body bent forward, and her tongue making short work of that promise you made that you'd stay quiet.

Isabelle isn't offered the suggestion of free use. You are free use. You're her toy, you're meant to be used, and you're smart enough to know that she doesn't take such a stance lightly. She's not fucking around with any of that touchy-feely, "casual dominance" crap. You'll know she's dominating you because she won't let you forget your place--look away for a moment, let your guard down, and you'll be pounced on before you can make sense of it. Even if she's just finished making you cum for every year you've been alive, she could very well come back into the room after a minute and decide she's not quite done yet. Bathing, showering, eating, sleeping, it's all the same. So long as you're still breathing, there's an incredibly high chance that you won't go very long without her weight pinning you down or your legs pulled apart for her to have a taste. But at least you're still alive, which is more than can be said for Isabelle's other playthings and romantic interests.

You would think that someone as poised, confident, and professional as Dr. Moorwell wouldn't be nearly as intrigued by the concept. Adrian is a romantic, after all--a chivalrous one at that--so you would struggle to imagine him as being so crass and self-indulgent with his lover.

Alas, he is. In fact, he's like a beast while in pursuit of it. Adrian loves to catch you while you're unawares; reading, reaching up for something on a high shelf, organizing his library, taking a sip of your drink, crawling under the sofa to retrieve whatever you dropped, the view makes him shudder and his belt comes off like the buckle is melting. There's always a touch first, a light tap or a brush down your sides to reassure you that it's him, but it's just a formality. The quick smack of his palm hitting your backside is the real test, because so long as your cute little squeal is followed up by a whine or a moan, he knows there's no risk. He can squeeze you, pull you apart, violate those precious, sacred spots so deep they've never seen the light, and it'll satisfy you to the point of making you gush all over him like he's turned the dial of a sprinkler.

At this point he might as well give you the title of housemaid. Your presence in his home reassures such tidy, homely feelings even amidst the stacked clutter and the piles of unread books. Besides, he'd have an excuse to put you in one of those silly, frilly costumes with the headbands and the wrist cuffs, and you could call him--w-well, it doesn't matter what you call him, so long as you prance around as happy and sweet as usual, and look at him with all that love in your eyes even once he's reduced you to tears and trembling legs.

Nina would be the last person to ever accept such a sinister request. Touch you? Unprompted? Without gloves, or a thorough hand washing, or..? You seriously think she would ever do such a thing on a whim?

That terrible attitude only lasts a few minutes, however, because her complaints are only a farce for how her mind has started working in overdrive. Because you like her enough to ask her for something so lewd. Because you think she's pretty. Because you look at her and think hot, wet thoughts despite her difficult attitude and her insistence on keeping everything clean. You desire her, and that's a feeling that's only come by on very, very rare occasions.

Hence why your request is fulfilled so quickly--like, less than twenty minutes quickly. Less than the time it would take for her to shower and scrub and go through her step-by-step routine in order to touch you, because the waiting is too agonizing and she just has to feel you. To feel your love and your beating heart in your chest, your pulse pounding all the way up your fingertips as you spread her open on your stupid, dirty, filthy hands. The only reason she'll allow it is just because it's you, but don't you dare get a big head! This is just more convenient for her. She'll just take a shower afterwards. But...well, you're coming with her. It'll surely be easier to clean up if you're already in there, so if you think your bathing time from then on is going to go uninterrupted, you'll be very sorely mistaken.

[love-toxin]

the fact adrian moorwell isn’t real and isn’t softly kissing my neck while he fucks himself slowly into me while congratulating me for passing the semester is such a fucking crime i can’t believe it

I like this. However. Consider your options:

You're a good student, try your hardest, work long hours to get this degree, and you get a reward for it. Slow, long, passionate lovemaking after a nice dinner at his home, because how can he not reward his best student? Even if you struggled you still did well, and he swears through every moan against your neck that he'll reward you for every hour you put into his class. Maybe it's with a lavish date, maybe a kiss, maybe with a slew of nonstop orgasms--either way, your summer schedule will be pretty packed in once you snag that A in Dr. Moorwell's class.

Or, you're pulled into his car after lecture every week so he can work out all those frustrations he's forced to keep inside. Not only do you stroll in late or duck out early, not only do you blow off assignments and let your phone ring and buzz all throughout his class, but you tease him so bad that he has no choice but to take his place behind the podium and teach from there, because how can he face his class if he's very clearly got something else on his mind? He's so annoyed that you've got him wrapped around your finger, you even act so bold as to shoot him a wink when you get up minutes before class ends, already ensuring that he knows where to find you in the parking lot. It pisses him off that you're such a terrible student, but even more so that with every week he's forced to curve your grade on all those blank assignments just enough for you to pass--because you're such a good, tight fuck, and as opposed to how you are in school, you're so attentive when he's fucking you dumb in his backseat. You didn't even ask him for it but he just has to, and not only for the sex (even though it's completely worth it). He knows you must be easily swayed, and he's well aware of the culture at the university, so he has to keep you away from all those insufferable frat boys and partiers and potheads as much as he possibly can. You might be a shit student, but you're his student, even if he ends up having to write your term paper for you and fudge your exam scores so you won't fail out.

[love-toxin]

"the cooch perhaps." Adrian pussy spanking his darling for being baaaaad, though. What a thought.

hm.

He wraps an arm around you so you can sit back against it, and loops his fingers under the band of your panties so he can pull them off your legs and get a look at how wet you are, and after being such a brat? You deserve everything you get, including the wet smack of his fingers held together like a board as he slaps them against your clit. Hope it doesn't sting too much, cause you'll be woefully ill-prepared if it does--another smack and he aims lower this time, the heel of his hand sending twinges of pleasure through your sensitive little clit, your pussy soaking him even more as you await another swat.

"Enjoying that, are we?....Pervert."

Adrian growls that last word into your ear, his mouth latching on to the vulnerable flesh of your neck so he can suck as hard as he deems fit for you. The sound of the next one reverberates and a dull wave of pain shoots through you as he spanks you, but he soothes it by slipping his fingers inside you and moans into your neck at how easily they slide in. You're a naughty little one, but using his hands just isn't enough to reform someone as dirty as you--obviously he just needs to slam you down into the nearest surface and fuck that bad behavior out of you.

[love-toxin]

stepdaddy adrian? stepdaddy adrian.

hm.....

I can imagine the scenario--you're a struggling twenty-something enrolled in university. Life sucks for the most part, but the silver lining is professor Moorwell. Not only is he smart and passionate about his field, but he's kind-hearted and friendly and always open for conversation. He's the only person you can feel comfortable with, he's been your literal shoulder to cry on more than once during several meetings in his office hours. Though you had come just to talk about your upcoming assignments, he showed genuine concern for you and your mental health, and let you vent to him until you were brought to tears and he comforted you with a tissue handy. And if all that wasn't enough, he's so fit and well-groomed that most people wouldn't guess he's approaching his forties, even with those crow's feet that you honestly find attractive. He's just a concoction of everything that could go right in a man, and many nights you've spent wondering if moving your relationship further would ever be possible. Minding the age gap, your professional status, and whether he would even find you attractive in that way....as much as you dream of it being true, you know the chances are so miniscule that it's basically impossible.

And of course, as per usual for your luck, you soon find out he's involved with somebody. He mentions it in passing during your lecture and you feel your heart drop, but thankfully at least you've prepared yourself enough that you can clench your fists and get through it. He's not yours, he wasn't before, and he never will be. And you stop going to office hours, just barely scrape by in the final and try to forget he even exists as you move on and the months go by.

But when summer hits, the news hits you again like a brick--but it isn't from him, not this time. This time it's your own mother showing up to your dorm when she hasn't reached out in months, telling you all about this new guy she's seeing as she helps you move your stuff out. You knew that agreeing to move back in with her for the summer was a mistake, even if it meant her guilt offered free rent and free meals for a few months. Even worse is that a week later she's engaged. A month later she's married, and still you haven't asked a single question about who it is she's seeing. She hasn't seemed to care all that much about you for who knows how long, so why should you do the same for her? Even if it means pretending you're sick to get out of going to the wedding, although despite how she grills you for it, you doubt she'll even notice anything but herself and her new hubby. You don't even bother to remember his name, if she's even mentioned it aside from bragging about how loaded he is and that she could never work again if she wanted to.

When the day comes for him to move in, however, you realize you know way more about him than you ever expected. When Adrian shows up at your door in his casual wear, breaking a sweat in the summer heat, you just want to melt into the floor and die. And you pretty much do exactly that--neither your mother nor Adrian see you for about a week, after you shut yourself in your bedroom and wallow in the depression you knew would be coming. You don't know what to feel, how to feel, and when you finally come out just for your mom to complain to you about Adrian's "erectile dysfunction" you seriously just want to shoot yourself in the head.

But then comes the day, three weeks into living with your new stepfather (who you absolutely refuse to call as such) where your mother is gone for the weekend. It's a rare treat, one you'd usually thoroughly enjoy with a house to yourself--but with Adrian here, you just feel like staying in your room the whole time, until your privacy is interrupted by a knock at your bedroom door. He calls out your name and you keep quiet, hoping he'll get the hint and leave...but no dice.

"Can I come in?"

You have a hard time saying no. You want to, but he hasn't really done anything wrong--not knowingly, of course. So you relent with a sigh, and before you know it Adrian's standing in your room, his hair loosely tied back in a bun with nothing but a pair of khakis and a tight-fitting shirt your mom bought for him on. Must be a little hot for him.

"Do you need something?"

It comes out harsher than you intend to, but he doesn't grimace or even react at all to the comment. He just moves forward and takes a seat on your bed, suddenly so much closer than you were expecting him to be.

"I can tell you're upset. Talk to me. Are you stressed out?"

"You're stressing me out."

You spit the words back at him without realizing what you've done at first, but it's too late to take them back. And he's stricken to silence, his eyes turning away from yours for a moment before he slowly draws his gaze back.

"I couldn't...think of any other way..."

His sentence trails off into a whisper, and you're dumbfounded at this point. You're tempted to ask if he's high on something, honestly you'll have whatever it is right now. But his eyes grow with intensity as the seconds pass by, and you can feel an aura radiating off him like his thoughts are pressing against the edges of his mind like a window.

"...I'm in love with you. I'm sorry."

What....are you supposed to say to that? His eyelids flutter and he looks as though he might cry out of nowhere, and it's only then that you realize he said "in love" and not just the latter. And now you're really confused. Words jumble up as they come out of your mouth, and something about him being your stepfather slips out amongst it all, to his obvious disgust.

"Don't call me that. It was a last-ditch effort. I'd never love such an insufferable-"

The snarl he lashes out with is nothing like you've seen before. The kind, subtle sweetness of the Adrian you knew disappears in that moment, and yet he brings himself back just as quickly and clears his throat to try and mask it.

"Ahem...I'm sorry. That wasn't appropriate for me to say..."

As if anything is appropriate about this, you want to say yourself. But instead, you say the first thing that comes to mind after it.

"I hate her too, Adrian."

You wouldn't ever have imagined that saying that would calm him immediately, but you catch the obvious release of the tension in his shoulders as he lets them lower a little bit. And in that moment, his gaze drops too, latching on to your lips in a completely un-subtle way--but by the look in his eyes when he meets yours again, he knows it, and he doesn't care.

"...Let me take you somewhere."

Was his hand always on your knee? You can't remember, but it feels good, and that's all you can bring yourself to care about. You've hardly felt the touch of someone else in this long year of pining for your professor, and when he starts rubbing your leg through the thin fabric of your bottoms, you're suddenly in the mood to climb right over him and not let him get up from where he sits on your bed.

"You aren't worried? Someone she knows might see us."

And right then is when you know this is real. Because instead of comforting you, speaking sweet words, offering you reassurance like you've grown used to from your professor, he scoffs. The grin that tweaks his lips is absolutely smug, and prideful in a way that resembles someone who knows they can get away with whatever they have on their mind. There's not a shred of worry on his face, and you can't help but feel his confidence start to rub off on you a bit.

"I never said I was taking you out in public. We'll go on a little trip ourselves. Somewhere quiet, safe....comfortable.."

He starts rubbing your knee again, catching the way your gaze falls to watch him. He moves his hand higher, just a little bit, and chuckles when you suck in a soft gasp through your teeth at the feeling of his fingers on your thigh--but he goes no further, and you can feel that smugness grow when he sees the disappointment written clear on your face. But you won't stay that way for long.

"And where is that? Your room?"

At that, he stands, and starts crossing the short distance to your bedroom door--and you start to wonder if maybe that was all a ruse, and he's gotten enough information to go to your mother with to totally ruin your life. But he flips that worry on its head when he ducks into the hallway and comes back with a dufflebag, obviously stashed somewhere for when he'd need it, and tosses it at the foot of your bed.

"Get in the car. Bring some spare clothes."

"You got it, daddy."

Even you're surprised by how fast you catch on, a snarky grin splitting your face. You should feel guilt, shame, even disgust with yourself--but all can you think about is how gracious karma is, and imagine the look on your sorry excuse for a mother's face, if and when she ever finds out you slept with her husband before she ever did.

"You're funny, you know that? Get ready."

He says it in a way that you can practically feel how much he wants to roll his eyes, but he refrains from doing so for your sake. And when he disappears from the doorway, presumably to go get what he needs ready, you rush to throw whatever you’ll need for a weekend with the man you love.

And yeah, you might think differently when you show up to the house you didn't know he still had, and when he treats you not as a guest, but as a partner--and especially when he starts talking about your life together, without a word or notice towards any of the other people in your life. But you got what you wanted after so, so long.....right?

[love-toxin]

adrian and virgin darling brainrot

.

Oh, a virgin? How sweet. It's been a long time since he's been a virgin himself, but he remembers the feeling. You have nothing to worry about, absolutely not--he's got a wealth of experience to share with you, and he'll take his time. He'll be gentle, and he'll make this first time one to remember. He might make a few jokes here and there to lighten the mood and ease you into things, maybe even one about how flattered he is that you'd want to experience your first time with an old man like him--and tell him he's wrong, just test the waters. Say something along the lines of "But I love you, that's why I want to give it to you" and Adrian will be at a total loss for words, stumbling and stuttering over himself until he finally forgets about saying anything at all, and pulls you into a deep, loving kiss. He'll shed his clothes first so you don't feel so exposed, he'll help you get yours off too and brush his fingers past any inch of skin he can manage, his heart fluttering in his chest at getting to see you like this. Even if you try to help him "prepare" so to speak, he'll take your hand off his cock even as shudders of anticipation run through his body, and turn the attention back on you as he lets his hands roam where they please and occupy you with sensations you've never got the joy of experiencing before. Once the time comes, you might have forgotten all about any anxiety you had beforehand--Adrian is too good for you to think about anything else but pleasure, and he'll be teaching you so many things you didn't know about yourself that you'll be melting as he holds you in his arms. He'll praise you the whole way throughout, marveling at your endurance and how resilient you are, and when all is said and done he won't stop complimenting you on the glow you've got about you in the aftermath. Yes, part of it is because you're recovering from his love, and only his love, but mostly because you're just so perfect he can't imagine life without you.

[love-toxin]

i’m in zoom university rn and i can’t stop imagining adrian over zoom in his home office. imagine sending him a private zoom message while he’s lecturing,,,,, phew

big fucking mood rn honestly

Adrian glancing over to the chat to check the messages, his glasses sitting low on his nose as he scrolls through and answers a few quick questions. It's been months now since you've seen him in class, since you've gotten a proper eyeful of his turtleneck stretching tight over his chest, and his jeans hugging the curves of his ass that no man over thirty-five should be able to possess. You've texted and called and flirted as per usual, his emails coming through on an account that omits the university's domain name. Can't afford to get caught with his pants down with a student, now more than ever--but that doesn't mean he hasn't tried. Phone sex is and has been a thing between you for quite awhile now. 

But it's not the same. And you want what used to be a commodity to you--to watch him squirm and fluster and bite his lip, live. The thought of which is the last push you need to click send, and to watch the photo you took this morning upload before shooting off into his inbox.

"Oh, and before I forget, make sure to check your emails! I'll be sending the instructions for your final projects soon, so you can get ahead…"

You watch closely on screen, your professor's slightly grainy picture not even close to masking the way his expression falls as he checks his monitor that's out of frame. His lips part, and he tries to start again, only to get distracted by the message again and steal another glance over at his inbox that you know he has pulled up. The sound of throat clearing echoes in a virtual room that hangs heavy with silence, none of your classmates daring to say anything as your professor attempts to collect himself, and will away the blush that's rising uncontrollably to his face. 

"Y..You know, I think we can stop there today. Have a bit of extra time to mull over your projects, a-and...have a nice weekend!" 

He stammers, smiles, and the rest of your class are happy enough to get off early from your lecture, each pixely frame of their camera views disappearing one by one as they thank him and take their leave. 

And you? You do the same, making sure to nibble on your lower lip as you meet his eyes, before you leave the meeting and wait for your camera to shut off. Only then do you get up, and strip your clothes off piece by piece, with just enough time to accept the invitation to a private zoom call with your professor--unrecorded and off the record, of course. Because you're sure he wouldn't want to explain why he was holding a one-on-one meeting with his laptop aimed low, and his cock already straining and dribbling as he fisted it to the sounds of his star student telling him how much he turns them on. 

[love-toxin]

I just want to make breakfast for Adrian and wish him to have a good day at work, I just love the idea of domestic life with him,,,

That's the dream--sitting at the table with a coffee while you bustle around the kitchen, watching as you lean down to set his food in front of him and kissing your cheek once you're close enough. He's also the type that, if he needed to wear a suit for a meeting or something like that, would absolutely approach you that morning and ask if you could tie his tie for him.

[love-toxin]

extra credit; adrian moorwell.

a/n: here’s another fic that was requested by a lovely commissioner ❤️

warnings: professor/student roleplay, power imbalance, office sex/sex over a desk, slight dubcon/coercion, creampie. 

word count: 3k

"Professor? Are you in there?"

The rapping of your knuckles against his office door echoed down the long, quiet hallways of Adrian's home. You smoothed out the creases of your pretty little uniform, just a smidge too tight--but that was all part of the allure. And once you heard those few words from your lover, the rest of the house would fade away, and you'd find yourself plopped right in the middle of where he wanted you to be. 

"Come in."

As you creaked the door open and slipped inside, a quick glance around the room was all you needed to melt into the scenario. Adrian's office was as it always had been, with little fossils put neatly away on shelves, bookshelves lining the wall behind his solid wooden desk, and a smattering of papers stacked high where he worked along with a few rogue books here and there. There was being neat and being messy, and Adrian fell nicely in the middle of that spectrum, his office being moderately tidy with just a few things scattered around that he had yet to put away. 

Even now, his desk was a bit cluttered as he sat and graded papers--but he looked up from them as you shut the door firmly behind you, his reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he smiled your way. 

"What can I do for you, my dear?”

He sounded so calm, and already so reassuring that you felt everything else blur from your mind, as you crossed the short distance to his desk and your shoes sank into the ornate throw rug under your feet, before you took a seat at the only chair available and stiffly placed your hands in your lap. Adrian took off his glasses as he spoke, and opened a drawer out of sight to place them in--and though you loved him either way, he had a different air about him when he took them off, especially when he had such a gleam in his eyes. 

"Well, um...I think I told you about wanting to get my master's degree soon, professor.."

With his elbows on the desk, he clasped his hands together and rested his chin atop them, nodding surely and letting a few strands of hair slip over his shoulder to fall loose aside his neck. 

"Certainly. I think you'll do spectacularly. You're very gifted, you know."

He winked, and you had to force yourself to not let the pleasing shiver overtake your body. Professor Adrian was a favourite for a reason, and not just because of his smooth voice and kind heart--he didn’t betray any indication of favouritism to your class, which earned him an honourable reputation in itself. When you were alone with him, though...well, to say he had a soft spot for you would be fairly apt. 

"T-Thank you, Dr. Moorwell...but there's something I still need help with.."

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, a habit that he likely would have poked at you about just to make you flustered. But for now, he listened closely and waited with unending patience, interest visibly piqued at what you were gearing up to ask him for.

"My average isn't high enough to apply, and I can't afford another semester to try and bring it up...s-so.."

Here came the crescendo. Your heart thudded in your chest, barely on the edge of your seat as you waited for his reply to your transparent plea--either his brow would furrow and he would scold you for begging for higher marks, which you wouldn’t expect from him, but could happen nonetheless. Or...or, he would take pity on you as his sweet, pitiful little pupil. 

"..Ah, I see. You'd like a little bump to your grade for my class?"

You held your breath tight in your chest, not knowing what to expect when he pushed back on his chair, and got to his feet to casually stroll around and lean back against his desk, no less than a foot from where you sat. From here, he loomed over you from so much higher, and had an appearance much more befitting to a strict teacher as he crossed his arms over his chest--but once he spoke up again, you felt your anxiety fall away in the hands of your most trusted professor. 

"Is that because you know I'm a pushover? Or just because I'm your favourite professor?" 

Laughter tumbled off his lips in a lighthearted tone, and it eased your mind to know that he was only teasing you. Professor Moorwell was so easygoing and so kind that anyone would be fast friends with him--it was for that reason that it was so strange to you that he was almost always alone, eating alone, walking around campus alone, doing everything by himself...but to you and you suspected your fellow students, that was just another quality that made him so irresistible. 

"Of course I will, dear. I won't make it so easy, though--you'll just need to do a bit of extra credit work." 

His smile never faltered, the crow’s feet near his eyes crinkling as he chuckled again and reached down to pat your head. His hand was firm against your hair, and so warm that it felt like a ray of sun was shining down on you. Maybe this was a bit of an odd gesture, but you soaked it in with the praise as much as you could, even as his fingers gently threaded through your hair as he moved down, and eventually he cupped your cheek in his palm and leaned down much closer to your face, to the point that your noses were almost touching. 

"P..Professor..?" 

You finally managed to snap out of whatever kind of trance you’d been sucked up into--and when you did, you felt a strange feeling bubbling up inside your chest...and then he moved closer, and closer, close enough for you to feel the brush of his lips against yours, and then you froze up afterwards at the realization that he was kissing you. 

Any idea that this would be a normal meeting with your professor went completely out the window in that moment. All the teasing, all the attempts to make you flustered, all the caring gestures and genuine belief in you to do well...those were nothing compared to feeling Adrian’s lips on yours, his hand keeping you steady so that you wouldn’t pull away. At least now, all of that admiration for you as his pupil made sense...even though you knew in your heart that it was wrong. 

“Ah...your kiss is even sweeter than I imagined..”

When he finally broke away to take a breath, Adrian smiled again, but this time you weren’t oblivious to the lust that burned behind his eyes. Hearing him talk about you in such an intimate way was like listening to a different person--and though you felt panic bubble up at this sudden and forbidden development, you stayed quiet and still in your seat, even as you felt his fingers start to drift too far up your inner thigh. And the icing atop the cake was when you felt the whole world stop for a moment, and heat seared up through the pit of your stomach as he reached what he had been looking forward to, and two of his fingers pressed up between your legs to that spot that only he wanted to have the blessing to touch. 

"Mmh...I can feel how excited you are...was this what you wanted?"

Finally, as if your body had been on autopilot up until now, you squirmed and whined at his swift ministrations, both of your hands wrapping tightly around his wrist to vainly get him to wait as he carefully rubbed you through the fabric that separated your flesh from his. It felt wrong, it was wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to truly ask him to stop--after all, there was that part of you that loved this more than you were ready to admit. A part of you that was so elated at this realization...and so desperate to take in the praise that he wanted to give you. 

"I can feel your eyes linger on me during lecture...I hope you don't think I'm so naïve, darling." 

And he could tell that you were holding yourself back, taking no issue with capturing your lips in his again and again, and even prodding at yours with his tongue to get you to loosen up and let him explore your soft mouth. You were certain he wanted to do much more than that, but your focus was forced towards his hand as it moved away--and he soon used his other one to help when he didn’t need to bother with keeping you locked in a kiss, his fingers hooking around each side of your bottoms and starting to wiggle them down and off your legs. 

A gentle smack against your thigh served as a silent order for you to lift your hips up, and you did so without question, even though your common sense told you that you probably shouldn't have. But you were ready to abandon it completely at this point--your professor’s touch felt too good, and his kiss was like a drug, hooking you more and more with every passing second that he chased your lips for another. And nothing else felt nearly as good as the rumble in his chest when he finally broke away to speak, his eyes narrowed down at you as he let your clothing slip off your ankles and fall to the floor. 

"...I know why I'm your favourite professor." 

His tone sat so deeply in his throat that it sounded almost like a growl, and a possessive one at that. Whatever you had done to make him this way was a question you couldn't answer, but even so, in a twisted way, you could tell that you were going to get what you asked for. 

“Pr-Professor...i-if I do this...will you really bring my mark up..?”

He had already started to spread your legs as much as the chair would allow him to, the heels of his hands pushing your knees apart so he could have a good look at what you were trying to hide. But having you cover yourself nervously with your hands seemed to catch his attention well enough, and his gaze darted back up to meet yours. 

“Hm..?”

He almost seemed to forget himself for a moment, in the haze of lust that you’d lost yourselves in--but he brought himself back quickly and let out the breath he’d been holding, just to return that soft smile that you knew so well and reassure you once and for all.

“Of course I will. I’ll give you more than enough to get into your program, just as long as you make sure your professor cums.” 

With a touch so disarmingly gentle, Adrian reached forwards and carefully nudged your hands away with his knuckles, waiting patiently until you finally moved them as he wanted, and he could listen to you suck in a gasp through your teeth as his fingers met your warm, untouched flesh. 

“I know you will, either way...but if you want a little extra, then maybe you won’t make me use protection, either.”

You forced yourself to swallow back your fear at that prospect, your mind racing at a thousand miles per hour. As nerve-wracking as that sounded, your skin already buzzed with adrenaline at hearing him ask such a lewd thing...and really, you needed as much of a boost as you could get, didn't you? 

"O-Oh...okay.."

He didn't need much more of an answer than that, his mouth closing over yours to swallow your little noises as he slipped his hand down further, and left behind nothing but a warm tingle in your skin until he finally found what he was looking for. 

You were already so eager, your body reacting to his touch before your mind could catch up...and once he pressed his fingers past the spongy rim of your entrance, any sense that this might be the wrong decision shifted into pleasure that you couldn't deny, your legs trembling as he hooked his digits inside you to feel for that spot that would make you see stars. 

"Mnh, that's a good pet...such a good student…" 

The words drawled out over his tongue, and he finally broke the kiss for a trail of saliva to fall against your chin, though it was of little concern when he was lifting you up by the waist and leaning back against his desk to hold you. Your feet dangled for a moment over the floor, held up only by Adrian's grasp--but soon he hopped up to sit on his desk himself, and took you with him so you could rest your knees on either side and straddle him comfortably while he held himself up by his elbows. He was still in charge, but the twinkle in his eyes told you that he was allowing you a bit of wiggle room when it came to your pleasure--and you took the chance quite handily, your fingers fumbling as you moved to release his cock from the confines of those tight, tight jeans. 

"Don't be fooled. You're still going to need to work towards getting your credit...even if you are my favourite pupil."

His voice rose like a purr in his throat, and as soon as you tugged his boxers down enough to pull out what you'd been craving for so long, you didn't waste a second on sitting up and aligning yourself with the tip before sinking down swiftly. Maybe too swiftly, even for Adrian, who opened his mouth to tell you to take it slow only to cut himself off with a deep, throaty groan. Every inch that he fed into you felt so familiar, yet so new and exciting at the same time--and once you'd adjusted enough that you could seat yourself comfortably on his cock, you rolled your hips back and felt the drag of his shaft curving inside you and filling you up perfectly. 

"P-Professor...professor..."

And he made sure you weren't alone in your effort either, his hands coming to rest on your waist so he could pull you down to meet his thrusts, each one loud and wet and just as depraved as the last.

What would your fellow students think of you, if they could see you as you were right now? Would they turn their noses in disgust? Would they scoff at how desperate you were, coming on to your own professor for good grades?

..Would they be jealous? Would they wish they were you right now, riding everyone's favourite professor as he moaned their name? Would they dream of getting all his attention on them, his fingers reaching over to stroke them in time with his thrusts? 

"You're so good...I n-never knew my...my darling student was so tight.."

He growled as his hips pistoned into yours from below, his cock reaching one of your deepest sweet spots that had you squeezing even tighter around him and throwing the cycle right back into its rhythm. Barebacking it with your professor was something reserved for porn and lewd fantasies, and yet in practice it felt like a new revelation. As important as it was for your future, you couldn't even bring yourself to care about getting your extra credit when Professor Moorwell was stirring you up with his beastly cock, thick and dotted with veins around the shaft with a pulsing head that fit snugly inside you. He barely even kept you far enough to get any slower thrusts in now, and pinned you to his lap to fuck you deep with short strokes and a vicious pace. 

"P-Professor Moorwell-!"

"I know, baby.."

He spoke with sympathy on the tip of his tongue, his breathing laboured and heavy as his fingers picked up the pace on massaging your tender little spots. Your vision was starting to blur at the edges, your orgasm coming on fast and with little time to ready yourself--and all that you could think about was your professor, your dear, sweet Dr. Moorwell, with his caring smile and brutal cock. 

"Just cum, my darling...cum right now, and get those grades you earned.."

No amount of self-restraint would prevent you from finishing what you started now. You threw your head back with one last cry while Professor Moorwell thrusted again and stilled inside you, his cum greeting you in warm spurts that your body accepted with no resistance. And you were no different, your limbs spasming as you released everything that had built up inside you, your thighs trembling as you spilled all over your breathless lover. You made a mess of yourself, a mess of Adrian's lap, and of his clothes and the desk beneath you, and not to mention you must have looked so slutty and lecherous as you did so. 

However, you soon realized that getting off and scampering away wasn't an option, when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down to lay on top of him, his cock still settled low inside you as you felt his heartbeat slow.

"P-Professor Moorwell...we should, u-um...someone might-!"

He nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving soft kisses that melted your thoughts away and left you happily content, even with cum spilling down your legs and your body sore and aching from the pounding it had taken. 

"Nobody will see a thing...I'll turn away anyone that knocks."

Adrian chuckled against your skin, and lazily drew his fingers over your back in gentle circles, to help you relax more against him. And you needed that, you soon came to realize, as your eyelids got heavier and you grew too tired to think...all that you wanted was Adrian's body heat mingling with yours, and the sweet smell of his cologne as he held you close and whispered sweet nothings into your ear. 

"You just get some rest, darling...after all, passing my class will be a breeze with all that extra credit you've earned."

[love-toxin]

The idea of Adrian standing away from the porch and watching darling come out to collect their necessities all debauched and well-fucked and mentally going “I wanna help make them look like that” is just hnnng (I want to be in the middle of an Adrian and Seòrise sandwich, can you tell?)

He knows it's not a good idea to get close, but it's so hard not to when he sees you step out of the house for the first time in days. Flushed, staggering, trembling--Seóirse must be right in the throes of his rut at the moment, based on how you look alone.

You wave a little bit at him standing there at the end of the driveway, and he waves back with a gentle smile, wishing he could help you take those hefty bags in and put everything away for you. Seóirse is such a good, sweet person, but he knows he isn't helping you nearly as much as he would be under normal circumstances. It's just a part of his life that he can't control, no matter how much he wants to. He should know, he's overheard quite a few groans and whining and desperate thumping as Seóirse humped a pillow in his room, the heat of summer coming down on him so quickly he could barely lock the door of the bedroom Adrian had let him stay in.

And now he's here, standing at the end of the driveway, wondering how the person he loved ended up becoming his closest friend's mate. He should leave soon, Seóirse won't stay asleep forever, and he doesn't think he'll be able to handle listening to you howl and moan his name while he spills himself inside your guts for the hundredth time this week. It would be best for him to just forget you exist at all, so he doesn't have to deal with knowing you can't be his.

Unless…

There's a pretty big 'unless' hanging off his lips. Seóirse wouldn't kill him--he might hurt him by accident, but he would never kill him. Even if he encroached on his territory...even if he touched what belonged to him. In fact, it might even end up like that incident he promised Seóirse he would forget about, in which the poor selkie just couldn't take Adrian's scent during his heat, and humped bruises into his behind in a haze until he finally snapped out of it and begged for forgiveness. That was only a glimpse into what you must be going through right now...and wouldn't it be prudent to take some of the load off for you, in the hopes that you'll adore him too?

[love-toxin]

may challenge; adrian moorwell.

a/n: may challenge day 21. professor/student relations, power imbalance, blowjobs, semi-public sex, implied sexting, lemon. 

word count: 2.4k

"Are you even trying to pay attention?"

As warm and smooth of a voice it was, you jolted up at once when you heard those words leave your professor’s mouth, your pencil lead snapping suddenly as you pressed it too hard against your notebook.

True, you weren’t the most...focused of individuals. Your class as a whole was made up of eager people that flocked to your professor for his knowledge, and an equal subset of students who attended his lectures for an entirely different experience. One that included listening to him talk with a voice like warm honey, and a clear view of those lavender eyes and long hair that spilled over his shoulders, to say nothing of how toned he had kept himself even into his later years. For being just around the corner from forty, Dr. Adrian Moorwell was a fixture of Perseus Academy, and a must-see attraction for anyone that had any sense of what the word “handsome” meant. 

"...Ah, I see."

The man in question set down his chalk, and walked around the table that separated you to come closer to where you sat, in the first row of one of the biggest lecture halls on campus, completely empty for now as most classes were finished for the day and Adrian had offered a private session for you. Even if he was sour and stern and had the personality of a rotting tomato, you had no doubt he would still attract attention and love from everyone he met--but he was so much the opposite, he was gentle and kind and soft-hearted, and would never turn his back on someone that needed help. And both fortunately and unfortunately, you just happened to be one of those people. 

"...I suppose I don't blame you. Being young is a wonderfully complicated thing...so exciting and busy at all times. I'm sure you'd rather be doing something else. However,"

You had to snap yourself out of your trance to pay attention to him reminding you to pay attention, but even then it was still difficult--he moved his hands as he talked, as always, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from how soft his palms looked. His fingers showed obvious signs of calluses and his knuckles were dry and healing from a few small cuts, but underneath all that his skin looked as though it was smooth and well taken care of...

"--We have a certain amount of work that needs to get done first. So let's finish quickly and with as much efficiency as we can muster, and then I'll let you go a little early. Is that a fair deal?"

...And then he was smiling, and you instinctively smiled back, even though the panic had risen in your throat as you only caught the latter half of what he had been saying. At this rate, you had a feeling that despite Adrian’s efforts to help you pass, you might still have to retake this class anyways. 

"Good. Now, the rules of the old gods…” 

This time, you forced yourself to ignore the siren calls of his long legs and sweet, bright-eyed smile as he wrote out his lesson and sketched some pictures to help you understand, and surprisingly enough you managed to grasp more of the content than you expected to. It just further proved how brilliant of a teacher he was, and you could understand now why he had such a high average for all of his classes, despite being such a distraction himself. 

But, according to the way his expression shifted as he turned to look at you while he spoke, your efforts to take in his extra lessons still weren’t quite enough.

"...Is something else the matter? You still seem distracted." 

You fumbled with your blunt pencil in the hopes that you could trick him into thinking you were taking notes, but he could tell quite obviously that you certainly were not. Once again, Dr. Adrian came closer, but this time he knelt in front of you with worry in his expression--and you definitely knew that this wasn’t going to be good.

"Oh, dear...is there something you'd like to talk about?"

Even on his knees, it felt like he still dwarfed you in comparison, if not in size then certainly in posture...and you had to force the image of him on his knees out of your head rather hastily, your cheeks burning at the fantasy that suddenly popped into your mind. And of course, he was perceptive enough not to let your embarrassment slide, and he cocked his head to ponder the thought before the solution clicked visibly in his eyes. 

"...Ah. I see. I’m the distraction, aren’t I?"

In retrospect, his opinion of you shouldn’t have really mattered, as he was your professor and nothing more--but you couldn’t help feeling ashamed at the way his kind tone dropped, and he became more serious as if he were disappointed in you. It was the worst feeling, and you found yourself backtracking quickly to try and salvage your reputation, if nothing else. 

"N-No! I..I-I'm sorry professor, it's my-"

"Hush. It's not your fault."

For once Adrian spoke sternly, but the gleam in his eyes said otherwise as he got to his feet, and carefully moved your notebook aside so he could lift the desk attachment, and tuck it back away beside your lecture seat. Without just that little square of wood that hovered over your lap you already felt so vulnerable, with nothing else separating the two of you as he rested a hand on the back of your chair, and leaned in close to speak just inches away from your lips. 

"Getting distracted, not paying attention...you're a young adult. It happens. But it doesn't help if your teacher is the one that overwhelms your thoughts." 

Wherever he had learned to speak like that, you couldn’t possibly guess--but it was making you want to lose your inhibitions more and more, his voice low as he drawled out every syllable, and his breath fanning hotly over your skin as he spoke closely enough that he could kiss you. You wanted him to kiss you so badly, even if it meant you’d never be able to get this side of Adrian out of your head again. 

"I haven't been attentive to my student...I suppose I need to remedy that, don't I?" 

You hadn’t moved away, and you were blushing and squirming too much to be any sort of uninterested, so it served as his ticket to drag his fingers lightly down your arm, and move in to gently fiddle with the waist of your bottoms. He was asking permission, silently, to do something more drastic...but as much as you would revel in it, it wasn’t what you needed at the moment. Adrian was right, you couldn’t get him out of your head...and the way to properly fix that would be to get your fill of him, until you couldn’t possibly take any more. 

"..Hm?"

As bold as you had ever been in your life, you gently pulled his hand off, and held it aside as you reached out and shyly palmed at his crotch with your free one. Dreaming about doing something so risky and actually doing it were completely different things, but the payoff was so much more incredible in reality than fantasy--Adrian smiled coyly down at you, and with his tongue darting out to wet his lips, he spoke to you softly and with adoration in his voice as you made your decision. 

"Oh, my...I see, now. This might help a little more, won't it? I understand.."

Your professor leaned back against his desk, cheeks slowly growing hotter as he watched you get out of your seat and on to your knees, and shyly unbutton his jeans, to shimmy them down his hips far enough that you could get at what laid underneath. But what it was certainly wasn't dormant--Adrian's cock had stiffened already, twitching to life as your fingers hooked over his boxers, and you tugged them down to aid you in pulling it out in your hand. 

You definitely felt bad for freezing up, your professor's voice gentle as he asked if you wanted to stop--but it was a given, after all he was just...not at all what you expected. You had never known Adrian's late wife, you only knew that she must have been a lovely woman by the way he spoke about her in passing--but god, the aches she must have felt after taking in such a beast probably would have made her bedbound. He easily outmatched the size of your hand, fingers and all, and even though he was already hard he weighed down your palm like a stone, which was to not even take into account how well-trimmed and clean he looked despite that. You weren't even sure if you'd be able to get past a few inches, let alone the whole thing. 

"...You can have a closer look, I don't mind. If this is enough then I understand."

He smiled down at you, and you wondered how he could honestly be so laid back about something that would most certainly cause him to lose his job, if you were caught of course.

"Sometimes we only need to have a look at what we can't believe to be satisfied."

Carefully, like he wanted to test out your boundaries first, he trailed a finger lightly down your temple and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, before lifting your chin up with his knuckle and whispering praises down at you. You were a good student, you were so sweet, you were selfless and eager and adorable...and you barely even noticed when you started moving your hand in time with his words, listening intently as he began to stutter and fumble over them with a deeply flushed face. 

It certainly took a bit to get used to the feeling, his cock perking up with every stroke and warming your skin even just by touching it...but you knew you needed to hurry things along before someone accidentally walked in or heard what the two of you were doing. So without pausing for long enough to be shy about it, you leaned in and flicked your tongue against the tip, and got to watch as his hips jerked and he sucked in a gasp through his teeth, his hand coming up to cover his mouth and muffle the noises he started making. 

And how could you possibly stop there, knowing how flustered he would get with just one little touch? Now with a newfound sense of courage, you didn't dawdle with pushing it further and licked a few long, dragging strokes up his lengthy cock, the heat between your legs growing as he rested his free hand in your hair and gently took hold of it to keep steady. He didn't move you along though, instead he watched with fervor in his eyes while you ran your tongue feverishly over his slit, your reward for doing so growing as he dripped more and more precum that you swiped up and tasted happily. You weren't necessarily a lewd person, at least in your daily life, but for some reason the taste of Adrian's cock just...did things to you. Hot, addictive things, that fueled your desires even more and caused you to take his pleasure to the next step, by loosening your lips and taking him into your mouth slowly, inch by agonizing inch. 

At this pace, you had a feeling your professor wouldn't last much longer, based on how dark his face had become and the way he was struggling to contain his moans. You barely had half of him down yet you already felt like you might choke, and it all just made you wish that you could have him in private, to take something like this at your own pace and ensure you got every inch of him that he could offer. But alas, your time was running out. You could already hear students gathering out by the doors in preparation for the last lecture to start, and not wanting to miss out on the finale, you brought your hands up to stroke all that you couldn't fit, and choked down as much as you could so you could suck him all the way into your throat. And thankfully that seemed to be more than enough for him, as Adrian pulled his hand off you and gripped the desk behind him instead, his palm only doing so much to hide his sinful moans as he released all that pent-up energy deep into your mouth. You just thanked your lucky stars that you didn't actually gag, and make a mess on the floor--on the contrary, you managed to swallow it all with minor difficulty, and even had the energy to lave your tongue over his softening shaft and lick up all that remained as well. 

"G-Good...job...you did fine work, my dear. My apologies for the, ah, brief finish...but hopefully that was enough to satiate your curiosity?" 

He tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped them up, the gesture shockingly almost embarrassing you more than the actual act--but once he did so, he returned to that kind, naturally calm professor you loved, and you felt your heart fluttering again as you thanked him for his time and started to collect your things. In all honesty, you were eager to take your leave not only to avoid the other students that would be entering soon--but also because you desperately needed to get off yourself, and hopefully as soon as possible so you could keep the feeling of blowing Dr. Moorwell for as long as you could. You couldn't even look him in the eye as you left, turning and hopping up the steps of the hall while he wiped off the board and slung his bag over his shoulder, his tender smile going unnoticed as he watched you leave.

Honestly, he knew exactly why you were in such a hurry, and why you struggled so much to pay attention while he spoke. And he only hoped he could find some privacy soon himself...you gave him a much-needed release after all, and it just wouldn't be fair if he didn't give you some extra material to help you do the same. 

[love-toxin]

little miss; adrian moorwell.

a/n: this was a request from one of my lovely commissioners, who allowed me to post this fic of one of my ocs here. 

content: fluff, established relationship, slight age difference, former professor/student. 

word count: 4.3k

1:57 PM

You took a quick look at your phone. You’d arrived a little early, your cab a little fast for your liking--but you were here, and that was all you needed to focus on. From getting out of the taxi and dashing down the path in your coat, you now stood under the awning that gave you cover from the oncoming rain, the building behind you rising tall into the sky and looming over the little courtyard it stood before, a comfortable distance from the semi-busy street ahead. 

Your date had insisted on paying for your tickets, which was a sweet gesture in itself, however it prevented you from walking into the front foyer in case someone asked for yours. So here you stood, though not entirely perturbed about it, enjoying the patter of rain falling against the awning while a little bird flew past your vision and nested in the branches of a tree above. 

2:00 PM

“Darling!”

You turned your head at the familiar voice, and the sight brought a smile to your face at once. Punctual as ever, Adrian hurried towards you with a binder held above his head, though it was evident by his coat and shoes that he’d already been thoroughly drenched. But he greeted you with a smile nevertheless, and before you knew it he was huddled up beside you under the rain cover, body heat radiating off of him as he panted from the mad sprint for the entrance. 

If this was your first date, the closeness would be a little awkward, a little too much with someone you were first meeting--but his affection was familiar, as he’d pledged himself to you just a week prior to this little get-together. You didn’t know everything about each other, of course, and your relationship was still but a tender little bud...but you had good feelings about him. And so did he about you, considering how happily he kissed your cheek and rested a hand atop your head. 

“My train was a bit late, I meant to get here earlier...oh, did you forget your umbrella, too?”

You nodded, your lips too slack to form anything meaningful right now--at least, not while Adrian towered over you with a breathy laugh and a sweet smile. He mentioned something about being two peas in a pod, and it was such a darling thing to say that you returned his grin quite handily, before he slipped a bold hand around your waist and led you through the glass doors.

“Now, let’s get our coats off, and have a lovely little afternoon.”

2:14 PM

After waiting in a fortunately sparse line, and once Adrian had flashed both of your passes that he must have received from a colleague, the two of you dropped your jackets off in the coatroom and you took your first few steps into the huge, arching hall of the grand entryway. He took your hand quite daintily to help you down the few stairs where you entered, his binder tucked under the other arm, and once your feet touched the marble you felt as though you had been taken to a different world. Aside from a few children and parents milling about, all that took up the foyer was two huge, absolutely monstrous dinosaur skeletons--and your date eagerly soaked up the awe in your expression as you looked up, totally enchanted by the unearthed relics. 

“I take it you like the Brachiosaurus?” 

He chuckled to himself, and it broke you out of the stupor that you’d been enticed into, his hand squeezing yours as the two of you walked forward and passed the enormous exhibits. Past those, and your shoes squeaked on the waxed floors of an intersection, with three paths leading into separate rooms and different showings for the other exhibits. But Adrian was on his own path, and brought you through the corridor to the left, passing a few rooms before you came to a stop at a closed office at the end of the hall. 

“Just wait here one moment, my dear. I’ve just got to grab something.” 

In a moment, he disappeared through the door, and you stood patiently outside for him to return. You didn’t suspect he’d take very long, and you busied yourself in that minute or two by glancing over at the window, of which you could see through the streams of rain to spot the courtyard and a little group of schoolchildren playing out in the puddles. One of them jumped up and splashed their fellow friends, to the shrieking laughter of the other children--and before you knew it Adrian was back again, a lanyard heavy with jingling keys tucked into his pocket and his binder gone as he took your arm in his. 

“Are you excited? The skeletons out front are always such a splendid attraction for the guests...but if you liked those, then I promise you’ve seen nothing yet.” 

A grin split across Adrian’s face, but this one was not because of a mere chuckle at seeing you surprised or interested. You could tell he was excited just by the gleam in his eyes, as he’d always been such a laid-back person, and seemed to restrain himself around you to ensure he always came off as calm and mature. But being in this part of his world was akin to seeing an entirely new side of your boyfriend, and if this was enough to get him excited, then you couldn’t wait to see what he really wanted to show you. 

2:25 PM

“I’m going to transport you to another world, my love.”

He led you past the children’s showrooms and the few that were filled with less interesting topics, like soil composition and bug migration, towards a large exhibit on the opposite end of the hall, and up a set of stairs with a heavy wooden banister to guide you up. A plethora of signs pointed the way, and you stepped aside as a few children hurried out of the wing to catch up with their friends, laughing and gossiping about the exhibits. And once you stepped inside, you were absolutely floored at what you found, feeling Adrian’s hand rest over yours as you clutched his elbow to walk together.

“This is my area of expertise, darling. Nearly all of these fossils-”

He made a grand, sweeping gesture towards the bones and tools and other miscellaneous items that lined the walls and filled the cases, his face filled with pride as you took in the sight of so many that you felt as though they never ended.

“-They’re my discoveries. This is a collection of my life’s work...and I’ve been wanting to show it to you for a very long time.” 

He patted your hand, and brought you in closer--and even then, standing in the middle of it all and looking around, you couldn’t even come close to grasping just how much of himself he had poured into all these works. Pottery sat carefully cleaned on shelves, next to ancient tools and clothing that preceded a thousand of your own lifetimes. Every piece in the exhibit had a story, and it was evident that Adrian knew each and every one by heart--and he was just brimming with eagerness to tell you about them, so much so that he resembled a young boy nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet, instead of the serene older gentleman you’d come to know him as. 

“Adrian, what is this?” 

At once, your gaze drifted towards one of the most prominent features in the room, sealed off in a glass case that sat atop an altar all on its own. From what you could see, it looked like some kind of strange necklace...but Adrian didn’t hesitate on getting you an even closer look, and brought you forward so you could spot all the intricacies of the hand-crafted jewellery. 

“You’ve got a sharp eye, my love. That piece is one of my favourites.”

His hand drifted towards the information plate next to the case, and he tapped gently on the title of the little paragraph, that detailed the name of the ancient people that the relic must have come from. You tried to say the complicated name of the tribe, though you were quick to fluster as the syllables jumbled up in your mouth--but Adrian didn’t mind at all, and even giggled at your sincere attempt before sounding it out for you the proper way. 

“The necklace was traditionally worn in this ancient tribe by unmarried men and women, who would make the jewellery themselves and show it off to prove they were available for marriage. At least, that’s my theory.”

Now that you were closer to it, you could spot all the intricate details of the inlaid patterns of the pendant and intentional knots in the cord that strung it up, alongside an incredible amount of tiny stones that decorated the necklace, polished to such a shine that they resembled jewels in the light. 

“Most of my colleagues think the tribe we studied weren’t advanced enough for a ritual like that. But I choose to believe they were.”

You turned your head to look back at your date, and you paused for a moment to let the butterflies in your heart settle. He looked over at the treasure with nothing less than total admiration in his eyes, a smile laid over his lips as he regarded the relic with something akin to nostalgia. Adrian was a bit of an odd duck by nature, his habits sometimes strange and his actions often hard to predict, but it was that quirkiness that drew you to him in the first place, and made you gravitate towards him so frequently that he finally took the chance to cross that boundary of professor and former pupil that had separated you. 

“The world may change, but human nature stays so close to that of our ancestors. We have a need for food, a need for comfort…a need for love.” 

You didn’t notice the way he moved as he spoke, until you felt the pressure of his hand sliding around your waist, and the gentle tug of him pulling you towards him to nuzzle into his side. The cool taste of the air-conditioned gallery could do nothing against the warmth of Adrian’s body, especially that of his fingertips as he reached up and brushed a strand of hair from your face to tuck it behind your ear. His touch drew out the beating of your heart so you could feel it thumping against your chest, and when he leaned down and his lips brushed so softly with yours, it was like both his and your own were beating as one. You’d kissed before, but light pecks on the cheek or teasing nuzzles against your neck couldn’t beat this one...nothing could beat the love you felt in that kiss. 

And when he eventually pulled away and greeted you with that gentle, knowing smile of his, you couldn’t help yourself from reaching up and twirling a strand of his hair around your finger, your eyes drawn to it while you murmured so that only he could hear you. 

“..What about a need for procreation, Adrian? That was pretty important too, don’t you think?”

You knew your effort would bear fruit, but the reaction you got was like a cherished gift you’d receive only once in a blue moon. Adrian’s face immediately grew dark and hot, and he found himself trapped so close to you while you toyed with the ends of his hair, in a manner that ensured he wouldn’t be able to conceal his own bashfulness. 

“Y..Yes. Yes, that’s...that’s true, too..”

What a rarity it was to hear him stumble over his words, eyes darting away as he tried in vain not to seem inappropriate--but it was only when you giggled and leaned up to kiss his cheek did he come back down to earth, and realize just what exactly you had intended by what you’d said.

“Oh, you’re just teasing me...I suppose that’s only fair, darling.” 

He said so in earnest, but an adorable pout still made its way on to his lips, and he gave you the softest pinch on your side as a playful warning for toying with him. Fortunately for you, though, he recovered just as quickly and led you off towards a different section of the room, bringing you along the lines of display cases to peer inside and gawk at his personal findings. Before you knew it, nearly an hour had passed of the two of you meandering around the quiet showroom and listening to Adrian ramble off about a plethora of the artifacts he’d studied...and just as you thought you’d seen absolutely everything, and your phone read 3:45 in the afternoon, he took you around one of the displays towards a door cordoned off to patrons, the key ring jingling in his hands as he pulled it out to unlock it. 

“Come, there’s more I want to show you. Something special that I want you to see, sweetheart.”

A bit of adrenaline pulsed through your veins, as your date held the door open for you and let you walk inside. As you walked with him down a short hallway, there was a sense of unease at being somewhere you would usually not be allowed to go--but once you reached the massive room at the end of the corridor, and Adrian switched the lights on to flicker to life overhead, that feeling totally dissipated at what you saw looming in front of you. 

“Adrian, what is that..?”

Your feet were frozen in place, stuck to the spot where you entered, and only loosened once Adrian led you forward with a hand on your lower back. Once you reached the rope that marked the place visitors were meant to stand behind, that was when he finally raised his arm to properly present the crown jewel of his collection. 

“This, my darling….is the culmination of my life’s work. This is ‘Little Miss’.”

Little. Little? At the very least you could appreciate his sense of humour, because the artifact in front of you was anything but little. At first glance, the behemoth of a creature seemed to resemble some kind of woolly mammoth--but it was unlike any that you’d seen in pictures or in movies. It was so much bigger for a start, and even for you as someone with very little personal experience in archaeology, it was clear that the animal had been beautifully preserved, to the point that you could see the texture of its fur as it lined its skin all the way down to its enormous hooves. Inside the case it was protected by, it even had some little tufts of grass and plants to make it seem more alive--and from where you stood, the most impressive detail you noticed about the creature was its tusks, which were covered all the way up to the tip in small, impressively intricate engravings. You could even spot what looked to be ancient kinds of paint and dyes in the lines of the carvings, clearly uncovered with the work of a very dedicated archeologist with a very close eye for detail--and when you finally tore your eyes away from the creature and looked back at your date, Adrian was practically vibrating in place at your reaction, a toothy grin split wide on his face as he awaited your response. No matter how you said it, you knew he was beyond delighted to know you were impressed, and it just made the moment all the more special as you reached out and let him take your hand in both of his.

“She’s incredible, Adrian. I’m just...I’m blown away. Did you really find this yourself?”

As a diligent professor and respected figure with a grand reputation in his field of study, you knew Adrian so very rarely got the opportunity to be too openly prideful. But here in the gallery that was closed to the public, with you by his side and hanging off his every word, you could feel his desire to inspire you with tales of his own impressive exploits.

“I did. For the last ten years, I’ve poured my heart and soul into this project...and I finally finished it because of you.”

“M..Me? What do you mean?”

He smiled down at you so warmly, his eyes alight with passion--and when he turned his head back to look up at the monumental artifact before you, you felt the rest of the world grow quiet in the background as he started to tell you his story. 

“When I discovered her in my late twenties, I was so determined to make a proper name for myself. I slaved for hours over hundreds of grant requests and paperwork, and spent nearly every moment of my free time at the site of her remains, chipping away at the ice she was encased in to bring her to the lab to research.” 

His hands closed over the rope that cordoned off where guests would stand to behold the giant, practically leaning in over it to get as good of a look as he could. You could picture the image in your mind, aided by the pictures you’d seen on Adrian’s desk when he was a young archeologist--the vision of your dear partner with excitement brimming in his eyes, as he uncovered the find that would once have its own place in the grandest museum in the city. But his expression faltered as he continued on, brow sinking as some dark memory swirled about in his mind. 

“..But after a few years, I had to start slowing down the excavation more and more...and eventually I stopped completely, void of the motivation I needed to finish my project. She sat half-buried in the snow for years...and then, just when I thought about handing my research off to another archeologist and giving up completely, I saw you on campus.”

However, that look didn’t last forever. Once the topic of you drifted into his explanation, he stepped over to get a little closer to you, and leaned down to kiss the top of your head before he rested his cheek on you. 

“You were like a dream to me. Everything I knew I wanted, and the kind of person I always strived to be...you were my inspiration. With every meeting I found more of the happiness I’d lost, and every time you smiled for me, I remembered why I chose this path in the first place.”

Adrian’s hand rested atop yours, and he rubbed gentle circles into your skin with his thumb, the gesture causing you to melt and cozy right up under his arm. As far as you were concerned, nothing else in the world mattered right now--being here with your love, and listening to the rumble in his chest as he spoke about how dearly he adored you, was all you were content with for the rest of time. 

“You were the reason I went back out and dug her up myself, after years of believing I’d never touch a site again. Because I wanted to bring her here to show you, before it was too late for me to prove that I can be all you’ll ever want.” 

Those words echoed in your mind, as if the gallery itself had become a mirror to your own thoughts. Little Miss stood before you no longer as a hulking, ancient behemoth--now, when you set your eyes upon her, you felt warmth bubble up in your chest at what she meant not only to Adrian, but to you as well. And your lips perked up into a grin at that unfamiliar but pleasant feeling, your date's soft breathing the only sound that accompanied you as you looked up at the mammoth.

She was a gift to you. Adrian excavated her because of you, and now she no longer served only as an awe-inspiring educator to the masses, or a well-marketed new display to bring future crowds to the museum. Little Miss was a token of Adrian's love in the deepest, closest to his heart way that he could possibly imagine--and though some people bought their lovers diamonds, or flowers, or pretty little knickknacks, this gift was something that rose above all else. This was something you were going to remember for the rest of your life. 

"I..I hope-"

For the first time, you listened to Adrian's voice flutter in his throat, unsure and even a bit anxious. He must have been wondering what you thought about such an unusual gift, his face betraying as much when he pulled away and looked down on you with shyness in his features. 

"I love her, Adrian. I love you."

But it dissipated like mist in the breeze, and you had the pleasure of watching his face light up as you confessed that to him, the joy of his face so palpable you thought he might even start to cry from it. But instead he took your face into his hands, and kissed you so firmly on the lips he took your breath away with it. You weren't expecting to say or do such things here, so early on in your relationship and in such a strange place to do so...but you felt your hesitation flooding away the more time you spent with Adrian. You were in love, plain and simply...so why should you hold back?

"..I love you too."

He whispered against your lips, letting the words pass over them and prickle your skin, before he went in for another, and another after that. You couldn't count the minutes you stood there before the not-yet-unveiled display, your arms wrapped around each other while you kissed and tangled your fingers into Adrian's hair to keep him close. And just as you felt the shiver of him moaning softly into your lips, your tongues slipping out to meet...something from inside his pocket started to buzz loudly, and you broke away from the kiss suddenly like a couple of teenagers that were caught together in the act. 

While you tried to hide your flushed face, Adrian smiled your way with sympathy in his eyes, as he fumbled to pull out his phone and check whatever had caused it to ring.

"Oh, dear. That's the curator--apparently they're closing the museum early today due to the weather."

Just as he said that with a sigh, intent on making his apology for something out of his control--an ear-piercing crack resonated through the huge showroom, and you immediately threw yourself back into Adrian's arms with a yelp at the sudden shock of fear. And he didn't hesitate to grab you, and keep you close and safe in his embrace, which you both appreciated and soon became shy about considering you soon realized it had only been a bolt of lightning from outside. 

"Oh...don't worry at all, my treasure. I'll keep you safe and sound."

You swore he chuckled at your reaction, though you didn't exactly blame him--and with you still tucked close under his arm, the two of you slowly made your way back to the little corridor and shut off the lights behind you, your path taking you back out the private door and through the gallery that Adrian had been so excited to show you. 

4:33 PM

By the time you finally arrived back at the front foyer, the patrons you had seen meandering about the exhibits were all gone, headed home in the rain and thunder to return to the comfort of their homes. And you would have to do the same soon, go home and find something to eat before settling in for a cozy evening by yourself…

"...Darling, please pardon me for being so forward. But.."

Adrian's grip tightened on you, and he bit down on his lower lip while he worked up the courage to come out with whatever he wanted to say. As soon as the first word hit your ears, though, a blush made its way across your face once again at what you realized he was asking.

"...Would you like to come home with me? We could, w-well...we could watch a film, and I've been hoping to make dinner for you for awhile...if you'd like to, of course. It's entirely your decision--I've just been so happy that I got to spend my afternoon with you."

Only he would worry so much about asking such a thing, his heartbeat thudding so hard in his chest you could practically hear it from where you stood. You were already curious as to what Adrian's house looked like, and you certainly had no qualms about spending your evening with such a gentleman...especially when you knew how sincere he was, and that he was just simply excited to have you alone and be able to hold you just like he'd always wanted to do, since the first day you met.

"I'd love that, Adrian."

You knew you wouldn't regret saying yes, especially when he already looked so happy he nearly kissed you just as passionately as before, only to stop himself bashfully in the presence of the museum attendants and a few security guards. He would save all that for later without a doubt--for now, the two of you collected your jackets and walked hand in hand out of the entrance, Adrian's hands so warm in the cold of the rain as he pulled you close, and laughed joyfully as the two of you ran through the puddles towards the nearest taxi stand. 

You would be soaked when you climbed into the cab, and would have to wring yourselves out properly once you got to Adrian's house, before settling comfortably in front of the fire and cozying up together under a blanket. Whatever you did, and however you did it, it didn't matter in your eyes...as long as you got to do it all with Adrian by your side. 

[love-toxin]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CAN YOU ELABORATE ON ADRIAN AND MORGAN CENTAURUS??! I AM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH THIS AU AND I NEEEED SOMETHING BETWEEN THEM AND THEIR HUMAN DARLINGS I LOVE YOUR OCS AND THIS TWIST MAKES MY HEART BEAT SO FASTTT💗💗

a/n: ah, i had no choice but to write a little for them. centaurs are my weak point. i lumped them both in together, but hopefully it’s still okay. implied kidnapping, adrian and morgan are centaurs au.

word count: 936

“Morgan? Morgan, come along, we need to start heading back..”

The smooth, warm voice blew past your ears like a breeze, the bushes in front of you rustling as if he had been the one to move them. You weren’t sure exactly what “he” was, and knowing from the rumours that there were creatures that could change themselves in these woods, you feared it might be something incredibly unpleasant that was clambering over the roots and rocks over to where you hid. Perhaps 'hiding' wasn't loose enough of a term--you stood behind the wall of brush that separated you from the small clearing you had heard the voice from, hand slowly pulling away from the tree you'd steadied yourself against, so you could carefully back away without making too much noise...but that plan was very quickly foiled when you bumped against something solid, and a pair of hands came down to rest upon your shoulders. 

And just your luck, you let out a scream that shook the trees and forced a flurry of tiny beasts to scurry out from the underbrush--and you made it very obvious to everything in the vicinity exactly where you stood. But at the very least, you weren’t alone--because whatever stood at your back, and laid their hands on you, let out a frightened scream of their own to follow it. 

In the whirlwind of panic, you ducked out of your captor’s hold only to trip and come crashing to the solid ground, while his head whipped to and fro like he was trying to search you out--and it was only just as you realized that what you had come across was a centaur, that the bushes you had been hiding behind burst away, and your breath stuck in your throat as a second centaur flew into the scene and cantered straight for the one you had bumped into. 

As you shakily attempted to get to your feet, you listened half-heartedly to the way they mumbled to each other, the first one large and imposing with freckles that scattered his body all the way to his equine lower half, and the second boasting deep, richly-toned skin that sloped into a tawny, reddish coat. The second centaur seemed to be calming the first one down, patting his shoulder and speaking with a gentle voice--but when the one who had touched you gestured to your general direction, and his companion’s eyes focused on you dead-center, you felt your heart drop from your chest straight to the ground. 

“...Adrian, what is it? Did I kill it? Please tell me I didn’t kill it, Adrian!”

Yet despite your absolute terror, you were frozen to the ground, unable to get up and run as the centaur named Adrian approached you, hooves scraping the ground and tail flicking as he eventually came close enough to touch...and touch you he did, his human fingers reaching out to graze your cheek, almost as if to see whether you were real or not.

“...Forgive me. I’ve never seen a human in the flesh before...Morgan, come here. They’re okay...you are, aren’t you? You aren’t bleeding..”

His gaze locked on to you in an unsettling way, you watched Morgan clumsily making his way over the roots of the looming trees to come close to you, finally bumping his hoof against your leg and jolting as if he’d just touched something slimy. But he reached down anyways, anxiously, until he touched your arm with his open hand...and this time, he rubbed it up and down your skin, a smile slowly crossing his lips as he confirmed what he’d been told. 

“A human...wow...I can just tell that you’re cute. You’re so small, I have to lean down so far...do you wanna ride on my back? What do they look like, Adrian? Are they cute?”

In a dizzying turn, Morgan went to fearing you to begging for you to let him pick you up, and it wasn’t for a minute or two until the realization hit you that he was blind, which should’ve been obvious by the way he tapped at Adrian to get his attention and let his hands roam every inch of you, taking in your form even when you gently nudged his hands away from your more private areas. And Adrian kept quiet for the most part, muttering under his breath every so often while he surveyed you, until he eventually came back down to earth and gave you a reassuring smile. 

“ Please, don’t take this the wrong way, but we’re going to bring you back to our village. We can’t let such a vulnerable human roam the forest by themselves, it’s much too dangerous...isn’t that right, Morgan?”

You didn’t like the way he phrased that last part, the freckled boy hardly missing a beat as he nodded and Adrian scooped you up into his strong arms, to give you a foothold to climb on to his back. But as you wrapped your arms around his waist, you knew for a fact that you could do nothing about it--you were in their realm, and if you tried to run, you would be caught and punished faster than your feet could hit the ground.

But you had nothing to worry about, right? Centaurs were generally peaceful, as long as you showed them respect...and the two of them seemed friendly, even if the path they took you down looked nothing like the path to a bustling village. As long as you did as they asked, and didn’t piss them off they would bring you home as soon as they could.

...Wouldn’t they? 

[love-toxin]

Oh I've seen the last post and I counter with, how would they react with receiving oral? Or maybe for some of them, imposing to their darling to receive oral?

Suki would revel in it, he would be grabbing at your hair and bucking his hips like you wouldn’t believe. Contrary to popular belief, though, he’s much less experienced than he comes off–so he cums much faster than usual and will whine and dig his heels into your back, the bed, or the floor, until his orgasm has rocked through his whole body. And if you overstimulate him then he’ll certainly lose any dominance he might have had, tears forming in his eyes as he squirms and thrashes and his tail twitches while his brain goes into overload. 

Sucking him off is one of the times where Adrian will be a bit more intimidating. He doesn’t like to act too much of a teacher around you, but this is an exception–if you’re shy, he’ll speak in a low voice as he tells you where he likes to be touched, how he wants you to use your tongue, and won’t spare the gritty details about how you can make him moan for you. But if you want to try it without his help he’ll leave you to your own devices, and instead will watch from above and chuckle to himself as he thinks about how cute you are…and how eager you are to please your love. 

Chihiro unfortunately can’t really experience intimacy like most humans, so it isn’t as intense physically. However, they can feel the pressure of your mouth closing around them, the firmness of your tongue as you swipe over their intimate spots…and they can feel your intentions, they know that this is a ritual that humans do when they’re in love, and so it’s a more passionate feeling for them emotionally than most normal people. They might get a little overexcited and try to act out what they’ve seen in porn, but even so watching the android twist and convulse and cry out like you’re showing them a glimpse of heaven is…cathartic, to say the least. 

For Morgan, oral is something that’s always a surprise. Unless you tell him, he’s never really sure what to expect…and since he can’t watch you while you’re doing it, it makes it so much easier to make him grip you by the hair and groan into the back of his hand. If you do anything too suddenly you might earn a squeak or hear him cut himself off with cursing mingled with a moan, and when he gets close he’ll pick up the pace and make enough noise that you’ll feel like you should’ve gagged him. But when he reaches his climax and whines out your name in such sweet tones, before melting into his seat and panting out praises to you…well, it’s worth it. Incredibly so.

There’s rarely a time where giving Isabelle oral is of your own free will. If she’s not coaxing you into it with promises of mercy, then she’s shoving your face between her legs and ignoring your whimpers of not being able to breathe. She’ll probably pretend to be bored and won’t bother giving you any praise, unless she’s feeling generous–but otherwise she’ll hold you down by the back of your head and grind against your mouth, purring for you to use your tongue if you don’t want her to cut it out. It’s a rather one-sided experience…until you find her weak spot. Suck against the piercing in her clit and she’ll become much more responsive, digging her nails into your scalp and growling for you to keep going under her breath, until she’s riding your face in such a suffocating way you’re afraid you might pass out. But afterwards she’ll be more doting, allowing you to lay your head on her chest and sleep without your restraints…and with Isabelle, that’s about as good of a reward as you can ask for.