#and he is.....so soft and sweet and delicate

[tonycries]

BRAT!

Synopsis. Scream it! While he’s still asking nicely, that is…

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, getting reader to not be quiet in béd, CÚMPLAY, spítting, Sukuna’s second tongue, oraI (fem rec), pússydrunk boys, squírting, six eyes, face-sítting, pússy-slappíng, true form Sukuna, chokíng, markíng, exhíbitionism (Nanami), víbrators, dp, slight voice kínks, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Love y’all, have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Let it all out!

“Doll…” he drawls out, that tiny scar at the end of his smirk dragging roughly against your glossy pout. And when Toji’s given nothing more than a few of your muffled, bit-back whimpers, he’s insisting - begging, “My stubborn girl-”

Five thick fingers wrap delicately around your neck - jostling your fucked-out expression up to his greedy gaze, “Cat got yer tongue?” As if to fuck the answer out of you, his hips are ramming angrily, knocking rawly into your bruised g-spot. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hah- fucked dumb already? Wha’s the problem, ma?”

It’s been hours now, and Toji’s absolutely wrecked - blood thumping in his ears, broad chest heaving with short rasps, stars bursting behind his half-lidded eyes after each sloppy thrust. And, yet, he still has enough sanity left to notice when you’re biting down brattily on your knuckles, throat tight with all those sweet moans being held back. 

See, that’s when Toji gets impatient. 

“Fine- be as quiet as your pretty lil’ heart desires, then.” Your eyes are widening at the mushy twitch of his rotund tip - still leaky, still angry. “We’ll see how long that lasts, anyway.”

Just that dark little promise is enough to make you keen - and he’s chuckling, “Now now- what did I say-” Those soft pads of his fingers glide up in a gentle curve towards your lips - but the way he just shoves them inside is anything but. Rounded tips constricting into the very back of your throat, “Ya wanna be quiet? Then, commit to it like the big girl you are.”

Big fat tears spring up to your eyes when he’s hiking a powerful thigh up, pressurizing the ruthless pace of his achy cock even more. Bullying into your velvety walls like he was angry, knocking all the air in your lungs with every glide of his swelteringly hot head along your cervix. 

“Hngh-” you gurgle past his swirling fingers. Your nails piercing ravaged red lines where you’re gripping helplessly onto his wrist, “T-To-ah!”

There’s such a deafening squelch gushing out of your messy cunt when the mean digits on his free hand push down about halfway at your stomach, feeling for the branding little nudge of his fat cock. Toji’s mouth drops in awe at the milky white coating of his cum. Dredge after dredge soiling your inner thighs, forming a creamy little ring where he was pushing his thick hilt into you over and over-

“Shit-” his Adam’s apple bobs with a heavy gulp. Mindlessly, he’s falling down onto his elbows in exhaustion, bending you in half like a little ragdoll underneath him. “N’ suddenly I’m the one speechless, doll- Hahah-”

The heavy thwack! thwack! thwack! of his still painfully-full balls make your head spin, and Toji’s drinking in your little gasps like a starved man. Slow, languid, eyes drooping shut. “S’this why- hngh- s’this why my girl’s bein’ so quiet all of a sudden?” Hips stuttering forwards like he was losing control, just filthy, lusted-up little half-thrusts and drags of his length down your gummy channel. Even that was too much for his poor, overworked cock - painting your insides full with his thick, translucent precum with every swallowed-up inch. “Too cockdrunk? Too hah- full of my cum t’speak?”

You were so close - so overstimulated - you could barely string together a sentence. And you couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to - because your lovely boyfriend only rummaged his fingers deeper inside your mouth. Fuck- it felt so dirty having him fuck you like this - spitting against your lips, twitchy cock mashing deep into all your sensitive spots. Like he was reaching into your lungs - into your barely-lucid mind until you couldn’t do anything but nod. 

“Mmmpf- I-” you’re managing out, the words coming out in a thick, garbled mess that makes his cock throb. “Hngh- yes yes yes-”

“Awww, fuckin’ knew it.” he coos, and it’s all the warning you’re getting before two big strong arms of his haul you up. Falling back onto his muscled thighs in a sitting position - with you all speared like a slut down his unforgiving cockhead. Being bounced up, up, up your limp body nothing against his inhuman strength. “Shit- fuckin’ knew it- My poor girl got fucked so good she couldn’t even speak, huh?” Toji just throws his head back at the answering clench of your elastic walls, molding around each one of his ridges and veins. “How cute–” 

You cower under his weighty gaze, unable to escape. To do anything other than take it when his bicep bulges around your waist, tightening like a vice. “How so very-” Abs clenching when they ram- up- “cute-” He’s gritting his teeth, baring you with such a sweet, sultry smile, one that ghosts the very shell of your ear, “But why don’t you jus’ cum f’me now, ma.”

You don’t know whether his own words have Toji reaching his high - or maybe the sight of you does. Because all you see is black tinging your vision - then white, seeping out of the corners of your puffed-up folds, sopping a wet puddle into the non-existent space between you two.

He’s so vocal when he fucks you through your orgasm, raspy baritone wrenching out little praises like a mantra- “Yeah- yeah there we go. Louder f’me- scream it all out. I know you can do it.”

“P-please, Toji.” You don’t know what you’re begging for - and Toji doesn’t mind. Only pinning your body to his hulking one, holding you so close that your whimpered out moans are almost inaudible over his cushiony pecs. Babbling out, “Please- f-fuck it feels too good hah- m’cumming- m’cumming m’cumming-”

“Such a chatty girl, moanin’ so fuckin’ loud.” he titters. “Don’t you dare hold back that pretty voice from me, m’kay?” 

But only when your orgasm bates into tiny tingles, only when your syrupy sweet moans turn quieten down - only then does Toji pull away. Shuffling onto his knees until his hot breath was fanning your eagerly quivering cunt, soft tongue dragging up your painted white slit, “So let’s see if you scream twice as loud for this, my girl.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Shhh…

“My love…” Nanami breathes out in a ragged pant, his hot breath breezing down your spine. Arching up so sultrily when the pistons of his hips slow down, aching for more more more- “Is something hah- wrong?”

It takes you a second to raise your bleary head up from where it rested amongst all the papers on the desk, the satin of your office skirt hiking up even further when you’re rutting your hips back in a quiet tandem. “N-nothing, Ken–” your words come out hushed - hurried. 

And oh your husband looked so unfairly attractive when he was concerned, blond brows furrowing in the middle, running one hand through his disarrayed hair, the other pulling your teary eyes up to his. “You’re just being so-” There’s an experimental mash of his fat, rounded tip into your mapped-out g-spot, as if to confirm his suspicions. And Nanami grunts at the sight of you biting down on your lower lip, “-quiet…Now now-” His thumb comes to gently pry away your worried lip from under your teeth, “-what’s wrong?”

“S’jus’-” you hiccup, eyes flitting to the closed storage room door. “-m’ so close n’ someone might hear. I know Higuruma also has overtime-”

Shit - you’re so far into your little rant that you don’t notice the way his entire body stiffens, jaw clenching at the mention of your - and his - coworker. You can only gasp when Nanami’s towering figure just shoves you deeper into the cool mahogany desk. One hand on your head, the other wrapped nicely around your blabbering mouth.

“You’re right-” Nanami breathes, words tinted with a slow, dangerous purr. And it makes your velvety walls just seep a fresh gloss of your sweet sweet juices down all his long, hard inches. “-better not make a noise unless you want to get caught then, because m’not going easy on you today, darling.”

And fuck, Nanami likes to think himself a practical man - a sensible man, even. But right now all he could see was red - nothing past the way that other man had been eying you a little too closely these days, laughing at your jokes a little too loud. 

Don’t get him twisted, he knows you’d never do anything - you were his pretty lil’ wife after all, the love of his absolute soul. But sometimes, he just wanted to make you scream it out. 

Your pretty eyes bat hypnotically over your shoulder, “K-Ken- oh!”

Only to be shut up by the furious pummeling of all his rock-hard shaft, the sheer girth of it already making you keen. It’s enough for honeyed moans to bubble up in your throat, ticking in time with that angry pulsing of his thick tip massaging your plushy walls. 

“Shh shhh-” Nanami coos, and you feel his abs ripple from behind you when he leans his weight down, down, down to pin you even more helplessly against the desk. Those thick fingers of his cover your mouth even firmer, “We hafta be quiet, remember?”

If he was looking for an answer, then Nanami fully and thoroughly fucks it out of you. 

Those important documents are shuffling around everywhere, flying off the desk when you’re scrambling towards absolutely anything to keep just an ounce of your sanity. Because Nanami was hammering into you in such powerful, pressurized thrusts. Hard enough that you could feel the line of his hip bones along the fat of your ass, the circular smacks of his heavy balls along your thighs. Sure to leave marks that that sinfully short skirt of yours wouldn’t cover. 

“Ken! Ken- oh my god-” 

All you get in response is the sudden slowing of his mean pace, until your heady moans are softening down to mere whimpers. 

It still feels so dizzyingly good this way, having your snug hole stretch limitlessly around his girthy shaft. Knocking so deeply and thoroughly against your womb, clenching your saturated walls down with every graze of the neat tufts of blond at his hilt. 

“What did I say?” His mouth comes down onto yours in a heated clash of teeth and tongue and moans. So many rasping grunts furling from out of Nanami’s throat, spitting into your mouth, “Hafta- be hah- quiet. Or else Higuruma is- gonna- hear-” 

And that hypnotizing push and pull is punctuated by the greedy drag of Nanami’s thumb down your clit, spelling out little patterns. Over and over-

Thud!

“Hah- I don’t-” you’re startling when he hikes up a leg onto the desk, the change in angle making you all but scream out into his ravenous mouth. “Don’t think I even- care anymore ah!” Every one of those syrupy sweet moans falling from your lips have Nanami hammering in even deeper, rattling the desk with his strength. “Just wanna- just want you to-”

You’re gasping at the familiar work of his fingers on your sensitive nub - a flurry of letters all over. K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-K-E-

“Say it.” he bites down on your earlobe. “Spell it out f’me.”

“M-m’gonna-”

K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-

“Scream it out, no need to be embarrassed.”

“Cum!” you’re sobbing. Heaving for air when he doesn’t take even a second to slow down, “M’gonna cum, Ken. M’so f-fuckin’ close.”

His next words are murmured at the crook of your neck, dangerously above your racing pulse. Making you flinch at the sharp teeth indenting over your skin, “Then cum.”

Oh and when you do it’s like something snaps. Because all you know next is that you’re being fucked through such a delicious high. White-hot pleasure having you quivering deeper into Nanami’s hold, dragging out each one of your peaks. Your throat feels raw, head swimming so much that you almost don’t hear-

“Just the way I like you.” Leaving a lingering peck at your collarbone, “All gorgeous and-” At the sensitive underside of your jaw, “-blissed out and-” Before you’re jumping at sharp canines sinking down into the side of your neck. Hard. Possessive. 

It hurts - but it hurts so good that you don’t even register the way Nanami’s eyes flit to the door - slightly ajar now. Voice rising in volume when he finishes, “-mine.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - We’ll piss off the neighbors

“Mmpf- S-Sugu…”

“S-S-Sugu-” your beloved boyfriend is just leering, his velvety voice pitched dramatically high. Shoving apart your dangling legs so burningly wide to bully that furiously shuddering hot-pink vibrator even deeper inside your insatiable cunt. 

He’s grinning such a dangerous grin down at you, “Now, why don’t you lemme hear those pretty moans of yours like usual, gorgeous- instead of holding back?”

And all you can do is squirm around mindlessly when he’s feeding your sloppy cunt inch after smooth inch of more of the thin vibrator. Rummaging around your clingy walls so much, “Come on now-” A taunting thumb of his glides along the intensity meter - Setting 1, Setting 2. Before finally resting smugly on Setting 3. Long, dark lashes bat at you, “You’re breaking my heart here!”

“P-please!” you sob out, before immediately worrying your lower lip shut. And Geto notices - of course, he does. The determined smirk on his face turning into something a little colder, a little more predatory. 

“Aww, my poor baby doesn’t wanna speak with me.” he’s goading, leaving your plushy walls stretched full with the blissful girth of the vibrator. Letting you all but cockwarm it while he’s running a rigorous thumb over your puffed-up clit, “Tha’s fine. Whatever my girl wants, she’s gonna- get.” 

Geto’s sharp tongue is running lewd stripes up and down the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the corners of your lips as if he isn’t driving you insane. As if he isn’t driving himself insane. The achy, fat tip of his reddened cock kissing wetly at your glossy folds, weeping hot precum that sticks to your slit, trickling down the buried hilt of the vibrator. Oh, how he knew - had planned out - exactly how he was going to make you scream. 

But for now, he’s only pursing his lips together, letting you babble and whine unfairly to yourself. 

“S’not- not that I hngh!” your entire body jolts when he’s wordlessly increasing the intensity - Setting 4. Nervous eyes flitting down to where Geto’s lengthy cock was sitting prettily across your open legs, throbbing. Waiting. “Jus’ the neighbors- hah- we got another noise complaint, Sugu–”

He still doesn’t budge, still doesn’t say a word. This time his fingers are toying your finger even sloppier. Tweaking and circles lazily along the sensitive nub, making you all but scream-

“Please- I promise-” you’re bucking your hips up for more more more. Feeling the sopping smack! of his hefty shaft come down on your skin, splattering translucent dredges of his syrupy precum all over your skin. “Promise s’jus’ that Sugu.” Shaky fingers of yours wrap around his long, inky hair - hauling him close to meet your lips, and you could feel the ridges of Geto’s toothy grin when you crack, “Feels so good- too good. N’- jus’ want your cock- hngh! Promise was jus’ trynna be quiet because the walls are th-thin and the-”

And then it feels like you’re being split apart, such a thick intrusion to your already filled-up cunt. Soft, supple walls being contorted around the vibrating toy - and Geto’s addition of his thick, weepy tip. 

“Say please, then.”

You’re so completely and utterly fucked out that you barely even hear him at first - body moving before your mind when your lips sag open. Jumbling out a mess of, “P-please.”

“Hmmm…” Geto pretends to think, but he’s still circling open your elastic entrance to fit his needy cock inside. Taking it slow, sensual - making sure your silky sweet walls are rubbing against each and every one of the prominent veins down his middle, the rotund end of his head shoving its way inside. “S’not ‘nough - how about ‘please, Sugu’?”

“Please, Sugu!” Your nails claw their way down his broad, milky shoulders - leaving red, red marks that make him groan. That make his hips jut forward in a solid, thorough thrust, “Please- d-don’t care about the n-noise complaints hah- jus’ wanna be full of all of you.”

Geto doesn’t know if he can move, fuck, he doesn’t even know if he’s breathing. Eyes widening, head thrown back at the slightest feeble clench of your velvety walls desperately trying to accommodate around his cock and the vibrator. 

It takes beat - two, of him grinding in filthy gyrating motions, abs flexing when his slender waist surges forward. All the way until that divot at his tip was branding into your spongy cervix, painful, cum-filled balls sticking thoroughly against your ass. Somehow, he’s managing to roll his eyes, “D-didn’t hafta hah- say that much, gorgeous.”

There’s a sharp flick! 

Setting 5. 

The heady room is instantly filled by both of your moans - so loud. Yours higher-pitched and cracking pathetically at the end, Geto’s throaty, like they were being dragged from his throat against his will. 

Immediately, he bores down at you with a bit lower lip, eyes half-lidded, the corners of his mouth curled up in what almost seems like a smile. “Guess I better quiet down myself- hngh- huh?” he gasps - heaves - tremors of the vibrator rubbing up so deliciously at the underside of his throbbing shaft, jostling with each hastening ram into your gushing cunt. “B-because now that I finally got you to scream out f’me-” 

You’re mewling when his thumb comes up uncharacteristically gently to swipe away your own lips from underneath your teeth - a habit, almost, at this point after you’d gotten a very huffy email about being too disruptive at night. Like right now. “-I don’t wan’ ta hear anythin’ else. And that includes noise complaints - because soon m’gonna move ya to our own house, pretty, don’t ya worry. And there-” Your forehead is branded with a soft kiss, your g-spot with a rough ram. “-you can scream as much as ya want.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Please please please.”

Choso couldn’t stop even if he tried - he couldn’t hold back even one of those broken, whiny pleas wrenching from his rosy pink lips. So loud, deep voice pitching up highly at the end every time the weepy divot at the very end of his fat tip reached into the spongy bottom of your pussy. 

“Baby- please, baby–” he drags out your sweet little nickname, two of his sizeable palms coming to splay out on the curve of your hips. Just dragging your gummy cunt down like a cocksleeve, helping you ride him in easy, relentless grinds. “Does it feel good? Tell me- does it- hah-”

His breath hitches with a sudden shudder when your fingernails dig into the side of his pale neck, using the leverage to just ram your cunt down in thorough, hypnotic gyrations.

“Please!” Choso’s gasping, eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re jostling slightly precariously on his slender hips when he’s planting two feet flat on the silky sheets to buck up, up up- “Tell me- tell me how it feels, baby.”

Your fingers tighten involuntarily at the sound of his greedy beg, making him let out such a guttural groan. The sound sends shivers running along your spine, all the way down to where he was jackhammering into your ravaged cunt. Thumbing apart your swollen folds to keep them spread enough for him to bully his girthy hilt into. So depraved. Needy. “S-so good, Cho-”

It was an accident - really - you didn’t even mean to let the little compliment slip. But it’s enough for Choso’s eager cock to expand even girthier inside you, all the blood in his body rushing to stretch your elastic walls to their limits. You could feel him everywhere, molding you to the very shape of his cock. 

“Yeah? Oh yeah?” he’s hissing, craning his neck up to mesh your lips together sloppily. Languid, delirious - kiss-bitten lips smacking when they’re sucking on your lolled-out tongue. Fuck, how he missed your voice. “Tell me- ngh! Tell me more, please.”

Oh, but really - your sweet sweet boyfriend was so pretty like this underneath you. Milky skin damp with sweat, his dark eyes dewy with tears and locked on you, mouth parting open in ragged grunts. Your favorite little melody - it made the way you bite your lip stubbornly all the more sweeter. 

There’s another glissading stream of his sweltering hot precum coating your inner walls, sloshing around in a syrupy slow rhythm inside you. “Please-” He’s crying out again after a few more branding smashes into your bulging g-spot  - lips wobbly as if he was on the verge of bawling without your voice. “Wanna hear your sweet moans, y’know? S’my f-favorite song-”

And you swear your hulking boyfriend’s mouth was upturned into such a pretty pout at that very second, soft planes of his hands caressing up and down your bent thighs. You can’t help but hum, making his head feel so lightheaded with that teasing quirk of your lips.

Or maybe it was the way your fingers clamped down tighter around his neck, sure to leave a perfect array of bruises from your splayed-out fingers. Jerking him even closer- “Fine- open that mouth if you love my voice so much.” 

You’re barely even finishing the sentence before his jaw slacks open, tongue darting out - just in time to catch the steady glob of syrupy saliva you spit out. Right onto the middle of his tastebuds, Choso’s immediately slotting his mouth against yours in an even greedier mess of a kiss. 

“Didn’t think you- hngh! like my voice that much, baby.” you’re humming, letting him hurl into a frenzy of powerful mashes into your g-spot. Some missing - drawing long, eager glides of his rounded, thick head along your cervix. “I like yours too, y’know. So much.” Leaving a lingering drag of his jutted-out bottom lip between your teeth, “S’why I ah- hngh- held back- love hearin’ you.”

And oh, every honeyed word of yours goes straight into twitchy cock, pulsing painfully into your mushy walls. Curving upwards so deliciously, Choso’s hold on you tightens - enough to draw blood, you might think, had he not cut his nails just earlier. 

He’s fucking upwards into you so solidly hard - feverish drags of you down his massive length only getting rougher and rougher until he couldn’t-

“Don’t do that, silly girl- mm- can’t live without hearing those cute moans of yours, m’kay?” Big fat tears gloss down his sharp cheeks with how stimulated he was right now, and you could feel the weighty shifting of his balls. So tight they almost felt like they could burst. “So be loud. Be as loud as possible f’me- tell me how it feels, how you ah- want more- a-and-” His fingers now cup your face, leaving all the laborious duty down to his frantic hips. Yet, Choso didn’t mind - anything that let him glide a thumb along your spit-glossed mouth, tugging out your bottom lip from where you were trapping it between your teeth, “-and say my name.”

You do - and it’s just about all you can manage out when you’re leering down to bite on Choso’s sensitive earlobe. Exactly where you knew would make him shiver the most, rutting up animalistically to bounce you up even deeper, “Then cum f’me, Cho.”

And he thinks he will - fuck, at the sound of his name rolling off your saccharine sweet tongue he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. But not before teasing a hard roll of his thumb along your clit, “F-fuck you little- ah! You first, since you’ve been hah- holdin’ out on me. N’ this time-” His glinting eyes narrow, sharp canines bared in such a viciously fucked-out grin that it makes you clamp down - hard, “-you’re gonna be the one hngh- crying out, baby–”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - CHATTERBOX!

Now, usually when Sukuna had you all splayed out like this - your trembly thighs balanced on either side of his head, puffy pussy lips so sopping wet it made his mouth water - he knew you’d let out a few pretty noises. 

A mewl when his hot tongue laps up the syrupy juices sopping from either side of your slit, a moan of his name when all he does is card the very edge of his soft muscle between them. And finally - finally - his favorite, a whiny beg for, “P-please, Kuna- no more teasing!”

How cute. 

When you miss the first - he doesn’t think much of it, instead too engrossed in thumbing apart your swollen folds, admiring the way your greedy cunt was already glistening and winking down at him so sweetly. Spitting a fat wad of his saliva right on the bullseye of your entrance. When you miss the second, he’s concerned, humming a raspy growl at the back of his throat while wrapping two plump lips around your throbbing clit. 

And when you miss that last one - oh, now you’re gonna get it. 

Smack! 

All give digits of his thick fingers come down hard on your hovering pussy, sliding a glistening syrupy wet sheen down to his wrist. 

“S’this boring to you, woman?” the famed king of cures spits his words with a low, threatening rumble of his sculpted chest. And it’s all you can do to throb, whirling your glassy eyes down at his half-lidded, darkened gaze, “Anything else you’d rather be doing right now?” 

You’re shaking your head deliriously - but that’s not enough for him, of course. 

There’s another oozing little throb from your cunt - rewarded with another branding smack! across your sensitive clit. “Don’ wanna use your big girl words, hm?” Sukuna raises a brow, still holding such dangerous eye contact with you when he hollows out his cheeks, long tongue lolling out to make out with your pussy. “Fine then- let’s let this cute pussy speak for herself, hm?”

There’s only a drawn-out, sloppy squelch ringing through the heady air when he lays his tongue flat across your glossy lips. Just teasing around the very edge of your gushy entrance before the very tip of him dances up, up, up.

“Hngh!” you’re gasping at the feeling of him grazing over your clit in a sultry push and pull - and the sudden wetness of something else swirling around your syrupy sweet hole. “Wh- is that-”

“Shhh, didn’t ya wanna stay quiet, brat?” Sukuna cuts through your words, velvety coo making you just arch down harder to drag your slobbering cunt all across his eager face. And where that mean mouth of his was teasing you, his other - larger - tongue on his stomach was picking up wherever left off. More, even. “So shut up and let this pussy talk, why don’t ya?”

Ah, it was impossible to escape him. Two big beefy hands were steadied firmly around your quaking thighs, hauling you right onto his swallowing mouth, grinding you against his jaw like his favorite meal. You’re being bounced, almost on top of him - his other tongue driving you insane. 

Reaching all the spots you could’ve never even imagined. Arching into you almost as deftly as his cocks, bullying past your puffy lips and into every bulbous areas of your sensitive spots. Fucking you so thoroughly-

“Hey-” There’s another reminder - one of Sukuna’s free hands planting a solid smack onto the very bulge of your elastic walls around his tongue. “Think she said she’s getting close- Almost didn’t hngh- catch it ‘cause you’re being a bit too hah-” He’s craning his thick neck back in for a messy kiss against your clit. “-loud-” Again. And again and again- plump smirk glittered with all your sweet sweet juices. “-dontcha think?” Smack! You’re whining in response, drunken hips pushing down as if to shut him up, “S’like you want to hngh- moan f’me. If you wanna then why are ya being so- fuckin’- stubborn.”

And fuck, you were so far gone that Sukuna almost didn’t expect a response. Half-lidded gaze locked on the trickle of drool slobbering down your slack mouth, eyes bleary, soft whimpers barely even audible over the sinful squelches! from down below. You were so loud, so drippingly wet in each one of your noises that it has him running his free palm over the outline of his aching cocks. 

“B-because-” your wobbly voice makes his fat tips just gush out in thick ribbons of precum, seeping through the fabric of his decadent yukata and onto his fondling palm. “Felt embarrassing- the position a-and hah! got nervous I’d be too whiny or somethin’, Kuna…”

“That so?” Sukuna simpers, voice a little more silky soft than before. And the gentle smack! on your cunt reads as more fond than punishing, “Stupid brat- ya think I’d be like this if I didn’t like your pretty noises?” As if to prove his point, the two hands on your body ride you harder down his mouth. Sloppier. More depraved. “Nervous for what- s’jus’ me, y’know?” Tonguing back teasingly over your glossy clit, his eyes just bore into yours. Baritone vibrato pulsing down your achy pussy, “And I love every lil’ thing you do, my girl.”

His guttural moans are still echoing from the very base of your cunt when you cum - so hard. Violent, even, that Sukuna has to wrap his strong arms around you to keep you from escaping. It’s all your poor pussy can take. Waves of pleasure taking you away. Gushing and gushing so hard-

“Sh-shiiiit-” Sukuna utters - and it’s only then that you realize just how much you’d cum, quivering hole letting out bursts of your syrupy sweet slick. Just coating the entire lower half of his face, his cheekbones, down to his pecs in everything you’d squirted.

And while his lower tongue still laps at your honeyed juices, letting each bead slide down the muscle. He licks his lips with a sigh, “Let’s ask this gorgeous cunt if she can do that on my cocks now, too, hm? N’ this time- ya better scream f’me.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Shut up.

“Sweetheart…”

“Satoru.”

“No-” 

Maybe it was the way your sorry boyfriend was just aching to hear your sweet sweet voice moan around his name, maybe it was the way he’d been spending hours already groveling and worshiping your body. Or maybe it was the way your clingy walls just pulsed all around his weepy cock, squelching in a way that makes him salivate. 

“I told you, my girl–” he soothes out in an almost-whiny tone. Pressing an overly-wet peck at your forehead, your nose, on either side of that scolding pout on your glossed-up lips. “I’m- sorry- I’ll listen to whatever hah- gossip about your favorite show next time just please-”

Two rough hands rest at the globes of your ass, purposefully jostling your fucked-out body to face him - he wasn’t letting you escape any time soon. 

There’s the slow, lingering squelch of Gojo rolling his hips forwards in such a dizzying tandem. Shoving you further and further up those expensive silken sheets at the hotel suite he’d booked for tonight - all for his little apology. 

“I s-see that lil’ smile-” he’s grunting, forcing two fingers around your face to look right into his greedy gaze. “Aww, come on- wontcha forgive me? M’begging here- begging.” And when you’re still keeping your mouth stubbornly shut, he’s throwing your limp legs over his broad shoulders. Running a syrupy slow circle over your neglected clit, “-promise I won’t fall asleep next time ya hah- t-talk my ear off.”

You have to admit that every saturated glide of his throbbingly fat tip has your jaw slacking further and further. Honeyed moans just bursting behind your lips, he’s stretching you out so sinfully. 

And, yet, it was so fun to see the strongest all broken down like this - eyes drooping almost closed, pouty lips with a glistening sheen of spit, little whimpers sounding at the back of Gojo’s throat every time he’s knocking right into your bulged-out g-spot. It drove him absolutely insane to see you purposefully hold back your pretty moans. 

“No no no no no-” he’s frantically prying away the knuckles you’re biting down deliriously on, trying to ease out those soft little whimpers and mewls. “My stubborn girl.” Pecking lingeringly at your lips, “Won’t you just scream- f’me-”

With a singular, jutting slam! of his hard hips against yours, you’re just keening - because Gojo was just crashing angrily against your poor g-spot. No longer teasing grazes and glides along your soppingly wet walls, just daring you to beg for more as you always did. 

No, he was pressing into your g-spot with ferocious power, muscles rippling across his hulking body when he’s sliding his fat cock back, back, back- Only to reel all the way forwards, the very curve of his globular head curving thoroughly against your sweetly sensitive spots. Again. and again. And again and again-

“Ah!” you’re scrambling up onto your elbows, connecting your forehead with his own. “S’too-”

You didn’t know what you were going to say - to have him beg more- to have yourself beg for more? But whatever it was clings to your heavy tongue when you’re raising your head up to meet your boyfriend’s. 

Because oh you knew that flushed, blank expression on his face, the slight crinkle of lightning at his eyes. This fucker-

“Whoops.” Gojo’s grinning, not a drop of regret in his words. “Guess I must’ve hngh- accidentally used six eyes when I-” Another nudge of his rotund head against your g-spot, only picking up in pace. Only plugging you full of his deep, grinding inches - fucking you so thoroughly into the mattress that you could hear the bedframe creaking in protest, your own cunt squelching ravagedly. “-hah- fuck this cute pussy. But hey…” He leans his face even closer, that infuriating curl of his lips only growing, “-I don’t hear ya complainin’ now, do I, sweetheart?” 

“Especially when m’ruining you right-” Splaying out all five of his long, pale fingers across your stomach - drawing an invisible line where he was branding the imprint of the very top of his length into the bottom of your pussy. “-here?”

Fuck, he had you exactly where he wanted you. 

“Y-you’re so-” you’re managing to gasp, eyes narrowing as he leans in even mockingly closer. But you can’t hide the slutty bliss in your tone, the way you tug and tease his soft, snow strands. “-so infuriating, y’know. I shouldn’t even hah- be lettin’ you off the hook this easily.” 

He’s moaning twofold, like the sound of your voice electrifies him. Hefty shaft twitching with each piston, painfully tight balls just clenching so painfully. “Yeah- hahah- yeah, isn’t it because you love me?”

The entirety of his body shivers when you lock your legs tightly, bowing his body even closer to stick to yours. “It’s because-” you purr, batting your lashes so sultry. Spitting against his lips, “-you’re such a pain in the ass, Toru.”

And then he’s cumming - and cumming and cumming so hard that Gojo doesn’t have the time to be embarrassed. All he can really think about is the syrupy slow slosh of his seed painting inside your gummy walls, shooting out in thick dredges. 

You giggle, eyeing down at the puddle of cum and saturated slick oozing down your thighs. Leaking out of your weepy slit, “Heh…for someone that wanted me to hngh- s-speak up so much, you sure are weak, Toru.”

The second roll of his nickname on your tongue is enough for Gojo to be gushing out another wave of potent cum into your snug channel. Hissing, he’s swiping at the creamy ring forming around his hilt, pooling the mess on the large pads of his fingers before-

“Maybe s’better when you-” Bullying them between the seam of your mouth, he’s swirling around your hot tongue. “-don’t speak.” Your answering glare is enough, “J-just kidding!”

A/N. If y’all need me I’ll be in my prayer circle manifesting for a Gojo comeback…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[thinkinonsense]

idek if this counts as inspo but mean!logan slapping ur pussy..

cw: fingering, face grinding/riding, pussy slapping, mean!logan

"what did i tell you?" logan snarled, palm now coated in your slick.

the rough contact alone was enough to make your body shake but his voice? that had you throbbing.

"s-sorry." you whine as he gets back to playing with you.

the two of you had been at it for hours. logan loves to drag out his teasing until he's got you right on the edge of pleasure and pain. he's spent at least the past ten minutes making out with your cunt; licking and spitting on it until he was satisfied.

"where did my good girl go?" he asks in a condescending tone.

two of his soaked fingers, thrust back into you much faster than before. it was torture not being able to rock against his hand like you wanted to. that's what made him slap your cunt in the first place.

logan liked control in the bedroom; thrived off of it actually. he took time to study your body and find all of the little things that rille you up. he always priorities your pleasure over his. logan liked knowing only he could get you like this.

"kiss?" you ask sweetly. he couldn't resist your soft lips and you knew that.

"no." he smirks, slapping your cunt again before kitten licking your button.

"f-fuck, lo..." you gasp, fist full of the sheets.

"bad girls don't get kisses." logan mutters against the plush skin of your thigh.

"i'm not a bad girl." you frown at him as he nips at the delicate skin. his pace was relentless as he hit your sweet spot.

logan was far too preoccupied with your taste to respond. he could see your hips fighting to stay against the mattress. you looked so out of it that he decided to grant you some mercy.

"you aren't a bad girl, honey. just need to remember the rules." he coos, thumb replacing his tongue. "now, use me, pretty girl."

as if your prayers had been answered, you pull him back down and wrap your legs around his head. logan swears that your hips have a mind of their own in times like this.

"p-please... i'm s-so..." you squeal with tears of pleasure threatening to fall down your pretty face. "so close."

it was only at matter of seconds before you soaked the bottom half of logan's face. he could hear your heartbeat rapidly in your chest as he licked you clean.

"t-too much, lo." you whimper, pulling him away softly. logan places a kiss on your inner thigh before crawling up to kiss your lips.

"there's my baby." he says after pulling back to look at you.

no matter how mean logan could be at times, he adored you endlessly and made sure that you always knew it.

[joelsflower]

love language | origins!logan x f!reader

logan told you one million times he didn’t want anything for his birthday… anything besides you, lingerie and the moonlight.

a/n: hiiii <33 lis disappeared but is back again and apparently still obsessed with the concept of hot old men unwrapping you like a present. the hugh jackman fever hit me VERY hard and im down bad cough cough enjoy! also to enhance the experience when i say “he looked up at you” pls picture him exactly like in this picture ☝🏼and expect to feel something growing in ur belly in the next 9 months

wc: 4k

warnings: 18+ mdni. pure smut and fluff!! lingerie, logan is obsessed w reader, older!logan (i picture him in origins cause wtf is this man and reader in her early/middle 20s but up to you! legal ofc!!) fingering and eating out but brief cause reader is hot to go!, blowjob, facefucking & deepthroat (not rough), unprotected piv (wrap it up!), creampie, AFTERCARE!!! like SO MUCH logan is soooo soft!dom in this the whole time is like toothache sweet cause it’s a lis fic and yes. they are IN LOVE yall. oh and also reader is a kindergarten teacher (oops

🎀🎀🎀

“Stay”

You grabbed his wrist the moment he recollected his will to leave the end of the bed. Logan’s eyes turned soft, finding you from over his shoulder and turning around to follow the sunlight that kissed your cheeks.

“I wish, angel,” he cooed, both hands brushing your cheeks while his body towered over you “but someone already made me late, huh?”

You gave him a shy smile to meet the smirk that adorned his features, both of you sharing the memories of your bodies tangled just minutes prior. “Wanted to give you a present,” you almost whispered, remembering the one hundred times he told you he didn’t want anything for his birthday.

Not a cake, not a present, not a party. Nothing. Just you.

Logan’s smile faded, but you knew he wasn’t mad. With large hands embracing your neck softly, he kissed you on the forehead, “told you,” on the nose, “you are,” on the jaw, “the only thing i want”, and on your mouth, leaving the taste of him to linger on your lips throughout the whole day.

Your eyes slowly drifted up to find his gaze, the back of your head now resting on his palms.

“Promise” he gave you a sterner look before walking towards the door, “I promise,” you whispered, following as the smile you had earned earlier returned to his face, his back only turning to you when he heard the words fall from your lips.

But it was only a half promise. After all, he still wanted nothing but you, right?

🎀🎀🎀

The day passed by very slowly. You didn’t work on fridays, so you spent the most of it correcting some grades and planning the activities for your next week’s classes. You missed the kids, you can’t lie, and having glue and glitter all over your house definitely distracted you from the little something that was waiting patiently inside a very fancy box on the back of your closet.

The sun was setting around the time Logan would be home and you also had finished all the things you had planned earlier, so you used the time you had to take a shower and get ready.

The scent of some very sweet flower graced your nostrils when you pulled the lid of the heart-shaped box. Your eyes glowed in awe when your fingertips brushed the delicate baby pink lace, the little hairs on your lower belly goosebumping with anticipation, thinking how beautiful you’d feel in it and how the man that loved you would feel about you in it.

And that’s when you heard his steps on the stairs.

Logan arrived silently, and in part to make sure you hadn’t burnt yourself out making some sort of surprise for him. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, but all the glitter and glue on the table and the all the silence scared him a bit.

“Baby?” He called you while undressing himself down to his black t-shirt and boxers. “Oh, hey you,” his expression softened when his eyes found your head peaking from the bathroom door, gaze savoring the sight of him slowly unbuckling his belt.

“How was your day?” you asked watching him from the same spot, the muscles of his arms flexing when he reached to close the door and turn off the lights. Exactly how he said, the only things he wanted for his birthday were you, the lingerie he still didn’t know about, and the moon watching the two of you through the window.

“Great. Apparently someone told the guys it was my birthday and they let me work on paper today. So… Not so tired as I usually am.”

“I’m not sorry for that,” you smiled, knowing exactly who told the guys it was his birthday.

“I know,” he reciprocated your smirk, offering a hand in your direction. “Come here.”

Your breath got momentarily caught in your throat, excitement bursting in your body like fireworks in your veins.

“Close your eyes,” you said.

“Sweetheart-“

“Please?”

And how could he not? When your soft voice asked so nicely for him to? And the sweet and at the same time sexy scent of your perfume bewitched his thoughts? With your eyelashes blinking up at him and making the cold of his claws run to the lower of his spine? If closing his eyes would end the distance between you, then he would.

You then stepped carefully towards him, trying not to bump onto his knees and ruin the surprise.

You took both of his hands within yours, playing his fingers with your smaller ones. The simple contact made him shiver, the warmth of your presence washing all his tiredness and worries away.

“Could sit here with my eyes closed and just smell you forever”

You grinned. You knew his senses were heightened and definitely wanted to play with it tonight.

“Well, you told me you didn’t want to receive anything,” you then brought his hands to the sides of your thighs, the firmness of his palms on your soft skin sending shivers up and down your belly.

“Not totally true,” he thumbed your leg, fingertip brushing dangerously close to the fabric.

“Mhmm,” your hands glued on top of his and guided them a little lower, his palms now resting on top of the delicate, lacy garters adorning your thighs, “but I want you to feel it.”

Logan’s thoughts were in completely caos. Which of course, could only be translated by the grin on his face. You were close enough that he could not only smell your perfume and your scent, but knowing that he was the one causing that and with so little effort drove him insane. He could hear your accelerated heartbeat and used the grip on your legs to soothe you, moving his thumbs up and down, up and down, very slowly, feeling the contrast between the lacy fabric and your thighs.

“Yeah?”

You agreed silently, using your grip to move one of his hands all the way up to your belly in a very slow motion, to then release them both and let Logan’s fingers dance freely around your body.

The one hand he kept down gripped your thigh harder, snaking down to the back of your knee to bend it over his own leg, giving him better access to the rest of you. The thumb on your belly caressed around of your belly button in small circles and traced all the little flowers and bows on the thing garter that hugged your waist and decorated your breasts. The image being painted on Logan’s mind was already enough to make his underwear start to stiffen.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, and it felt like the first fresh breath he had taken in the day.

The contrast of his rough digits with your delicate skin made your body a too tight space to contain yourself, inching closer to him at every touch. He then surrounded your middle with both of his arms and gave your stomach a kiss, your fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck when he moved his face upwards, his chin rested on your tummy, eyes inching to meet yours.

“Can I see you, princess? Please?”

You hummed a quiet “mhmm”, and when he looked up at you with the most lovelorn eyes you had ever seen, you weren’t strong enough to hold back and kissed him.

It felt like the first kiss you two have had in a lifetime; deep, warm and wet. Your tongues danced together while his arms kept you impossibly closer, hands tightly holding from the back of your thighs to the top of your spine. When you parted to breathe, his eyes found yours again;

“There’s my girl. Let me see you, baby,” he held your hand in his and you took his signal to do a little spin, showing him your lacy one-piece.

“Happy birthday, love” you whispered, hands resting on his shoulders to balance yourself, one leg returning to rest on his.

“So you’re my present, hm?” Logan waited for you silent confirmation, palms devouring your thighs and ass while the kisses that he so gently placed on your knee slowly inched forward, “and do I get to unwrap you, angel?”

At that moment your walls were already pulsing with desire and your mind was already empty of words. You felt his lips wrap at a very special place on your inner thigh while his opposite hand moved up to message one of your boobs. You knew it wouldn’t take much for any of you to release control and quit the teasing, and being both on the verge of bursting the whole day waiting for the other, that was the time and the place.

You whimpered when his hand moved down and cupped your clothed center, his lips now distributing pecks on your hip while your nails dig in his shoulders.

“Gonna let me taste you, sweet girl? Hm?” He kissed your beating clit trough the lace and you nodded your head fastly, not being able to hold back anymore. You knew very well the animalistic look he had on his eyes now and the way his hands couldn’t rest in just one spot; he wanted nothing but to devour, explore and adore you.

With your consent, Logan wasted no time in sliding the delicate fabric to the side to meet your leaking pussy. The groan that left his chest when he saw your juices dripping to down your legs put your whole body on fire, followed by the cold that ran through your veins when two of his digits gently spread your lips apart.

“Fuck, look at you,” his thumb toyed with your clit, drawing little circles with a small pressure of the pad, “that’s how wet this little pussy gets for me, hm? Left you waiting the whole day to take care of you… Bad ol’ man, ain’t I?”

“N-no, you’re g-ood,” you managed to take the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head and nails digging impossibly deeper into his shoulders when his digits lowered down and teased your opening, “and I wanna. Fuck. Wanna be good for you, Logan.”

“Oh, you are, princess. You’re my best girl.”

Pressing your clit between his lips and tongue, he sucked and savoured on it as if you were the source of all life on the planet, the most succulent fruit to the most starving man, like he himself once said; the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. His fingers pumped in and out of your hole rhythmically, hitting deeper and deeper each time. His other hand gripped your ass tightly and pressed your lower body impossibly closer to his face, making you moan loudly with all the stimulation.

You felt your walls start to clench his digits and pulled his head back by his hair to join your mouths in a wet, hot kiss, your other hand slowly removing his own from your sopping pussy, your shaking legs leading you to straddle him.

In his lap, the kiss only deepened; your and his movements were desperate, constantly searching for each other. You gripped his shirt by the collar and helped him take it off of his body, his muscular torso greeting you. Your hands eagerly pressed against his chest while Logan dig his fingers deep into your waist and moved you back and forth, your cunt pooling his underwear with the grinding of your exposed center on his throbbing and neglected cock.

“Wait- Logan, wait,” you pulled his roots again, making him moan.

“I’m here,” he rest his forehead on yours, fingers playing with the ends of your head while your breaths and heartbeats found the other’s rhythm.

“Wanna suck on you”

“Get on your knees for me then,” he demanded after a moment staring at you, trying to hide in his smile the excitement that flooded through his body.

You removed your body from his finding balance on his shoulder, lowering down to your knees on the carpet with the help of his arms around you.

He looked so, so beautiful like this. His prince hair and strong shoulders outerlined by the glowing moonlight that touched his back. His arm muscles tensin when one palm rested on his thigh and the other lowered down to finger-kiss your face. The “thank you, I love you” look he had on his eyes the whole time you were together. Who wouldn’t get get on their knees for this?

“That’s it princess, comfortable there?” You nodded and spread his legs a little, giving you space to kneel closer. He gave you another peck on the lips and moved his hands to rest flat on the bed, giving you all the freedom to do your thing.

You started by running your hands up and down his thighs while kissing down his abdomen, the thick path of hairs on his belly tickling your lips. Slowly, your hand snaked to his boxers while your mouth kept him distracted, licking the angry veins on his happy trail.

You palmed him eagerly, the volume of his member filling your whole palm and a little more. This first contact was enough to earn a raspy groan from his chest and some beads of precum that pooled on the little wet patch between his tip and boxers, where you butterfly-kissed before finally putting his underwear down.

You used your hands to spread his precum down and pump him a bit, desperate to have him in your mouth, you kept moving up and down while your mouth lowered to wrap around his tip, nursing on it like it was your favorite lollipop.

Your messiness has Logan seeing stars. Spit and precum was all over your face already, tongue darting up and down his shaft with desire. He almost screamed when your fingers played with the very top of his head and you lowered your mouth to his balls, suckling each into your mouth carefully.

“Jesus baby, that’s my girl, fuck-“

But it wasn’t enough. You were starved for him, for his pleasure. You waited the whole day to see his mouth hanging in bliss and you also wanted him to have what he wanted. You took his mouth of off his balls and kept lazily stroking him, lashes batting up to meet his eyes, “Fuck my mouth?”

Logan couldn’t believe how such a cute thing like you could look so sexy saying such filthy words. He loved it.

“Are you sure?” You nodded.

He then motioned for you to scoot back a little so he could get up, positioning himself in front of you, now both of you in front of the bed, sides facing the window.

He could die like this. The last thing he would ever see in his life could easily be you, on your knees, fucked out face with his precum and spit all over your face, with the moonlight reflecting on your rounded eyes just waiting for him to love on you. And he would die peacefully.

“Gonna start real gentle, ‘kay?” he assured you while brushing your hair back to hold it in his hands, one wrapping around the strands at the back of your head and the other holding his member.

“Lemme see this pretty tongue, baby’” he waited for your mouth to hang open and positioned his tip on top of your waiting tongue, tapping and circling it there. Logan kept teasing you (and himself) for a moment like this, smearing the leaking tip of his cock all over your mouth, tracing your tongue and lips at a torturing pace until he understood the desperate look in your widened eyes and scrunched brows, a silent “please”.

“Shh, gonna give you what y’want, princess. Suck on the tip, hm? Just the tip. Like you were doing before,” you loved when he ordered you around like this, especially when he looked so big towering over you and his voice was so low and deep like it was right now. You wasted no time in closing your already plump lips around him and deliciously suffocating his bulbous head in your mouth.

“That’s it bub, fuck. That’s my girl,” he loved when you were so obedient like you were right now during sex, his own little princess. His free hand stroked the part of his cock that wasn’t enveloped by your lips, using the mix of your spit and his own precum that was everywhere by now.

Your hands left your lap to dig into his thighs and your movements started to get more shallow, eyelids heaving and lashes blinking slowly up at him. You knew what you wanted, and Logan knew too, and he was gonna give it you.

The hand that was on his cock moved up to hold your jaw and the back of your head, inclining it up a bit so your face was now completely turned to him. This simple move of his already made his cock slip a little further into your mouth, taking a moan from both of you.

“Shhh, angel, yeah, that’s it,” his firm hold in the back of your head allowed you to stop moving and he slowly started to move his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth carefully to not gag you. Not right now, at least. “Gonna give it to you slow, baby. You can take it, can’t you?” He knew an answer for you wouldn’t be exactly available at the moment, but you gave your best to manage out a nod, “know you can, bub.”

Logan kept his pace for a while before roughening and fastening it a bit to prepare you, tightening his grip on your head and steading the movements of his hips, his cock now halfway into your mouth, in and out, in and out. He felt your lips and throat loosening and the gagging sounds leaving your lips were driving him insane, his bones were on fire from keeping back and not just fuck your throat like he (and you) wanted.

When his tip kissed the edge of your throat you let your eyes close and your hands fall to his calf, letting him know you were ready, “just a bit more, sweet girl, just-“ his tip entered your throat with ease, curving a bit to follow its anatomy. When your lips finally touched the hairs on his base and his whole cock was seated into your hot mouth, he stilled completely.

You could hear his heavy breathing as if he ran a marathon in five minutes. The silence between the two of you letting you know that if he said or did anything he was surely cuming at that right moment. Logan’s eyes were closed and his head turned to the ceiling, brows furrowed trying to contain himself.

Your fingers caressed his leg slightly, reminding him you were ready, and when his gaze turned down to give you attention, dark and serious, like a big wolf preying down a little bunny, you knew what he was feeling. It faded quickly though when his eyes found yours, his rough expression turning into a smile, “you’re my best girl, aren’t you? That’s what y’wanted babe? To choke on my dick?”

You blinked your eyes assuringly, the heaviness of your eyelids taking a sexy, deep laugh from his chest. His hand left your head momentarily to caress your cheek with the back of his point finger, “think you can swallow for me?” he whispered.

You’ve done that before, and the feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced, the both of you. And you felt that it was coming by the calm and patient way he was dealing with you tonight. Logan was always careful to ask for things that edged your limits, always trying his best to keep you safe and comfortable. And who were you to deny the birthday boy what he was asking for?

You prepared yourself and slowly clenched your throat, suffocating his tip in the curve of it. Tears involuntarily pooled and fell from your eyes with the overstimulation and the feeling of oh, being so full of him, of his cock angrily pulsing in the whole extent of your mouth and now your throat. Logan’s eyes turned to the back of his head and his mouth hanged open, his fingers flexing in your hair to not lose control.

“O-one more time ba-“ and before he could even finish his sentence you were swallowing him down again, this time earning a loud and raspy groan from him, “fuck! baby, c’mon,” he carefully pulled himself from your mouth, cock hanging angry and desperate from your activities. “Need to feel you,” and kissed you hungrily.

He pulled you by your arms and intertwined them around his neck, tapping your bum slightly in a sign for you to jump in his lap. Logan was careful to drop you on the bed, never parting your lips and laying with his whole body weight on top of you. The hairs on his chest feathering over your nipples and the kiss of his tip over your folds were growing in you a type of desire you couldn’t quite decipher.

Sweat, spit and love were everywhere, your bodies swayed under the moonlight as if you were one. While your tongues fought for space into the other’s mouth, he reached a hand down and starting to thumb your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure that had your mouth unplugging from his with a whine. When you felt his head finally circling your hole, you released him and turned around.

“Like that?” Logan watched as you switched positions, large palm finding your lower back while you placed yourself tummy down on the bed. “Can we?” you whispered, looking at him over your shoulder.

Logan smiled; if you kept being this cute he was going to fuck the sense out of you without effort. His other hand reached behind your knee and lifted it, giving him more easy access to you. Positioning himself into your entrance, he slipped his cock up and down your folds, your juices mixing in a squelching sound.

When he felt your hole flutter and your eyes close, your smaller fingers gripping the sheets, he reached up and kissed a drying tear in your cheek, “shhh baby, g’na go slow, ‘kay?” you nodded. There’s no exaggeration, Logan was big. Big and wide and veiny and filled you in all the right places.

The moment his head eased into you, you were seeing stars. The way your walls spread to welcome his girth made your mind fuzzy and all your senses heightened, the moan he left ecoed in your brain and the touch of his hand embracing yours burned like fire. He slowly pressed forward until his cock was perfectly engulfed inside you, both his member and your walls pulsing in unison.

“Move,” you mewled, fingers gripping his thumb in need. Logan used the hand on the small of your back to balance himself, starting to pump in an out at a perfect pace; not so fast but not so slow, deep, deep as he could to kiss every inch of your cunt and rearrange your insides.

“Pussy so warm, angel. Gripping me so tight,” he sad in your ear, “my little sweet gift.”

Stars exploded all the way down your spine, the fullness of his cock pumping your pussy and the weight of his body pressing on top of yours drove you over the edge, your walls gripping him tightly while you came, bringing his thumb into your mouth.

“That’s it, sweet girl, come for me,” he kissed your temple, “gush this cock, it’s all yours,” Logan slowed his pace inside you to let you calm down, caressing your hair and distributing kisses around your teary eyes.

“Think you can take a bit more, princess?” he whispered gently in your ear, his cock still throbbing inside you, “just a bit and I’ll be done. So I can fill your pussy up and good? Keep you full and plugged with me, hm?” You nodded with his thumb still between your lips and felt his hips meet your ass again.

It was so good. The overstimulation had you throbbing nonstop and your head in the clouds. Logan’s groans and moans were music to your ears along with his “that’s it, princess, fuck”, “whose’s pussy is this, hm? All mine to fuck and love on, ain’t it?”, “yeah, baby, that’s my sweet girl. Taking it so good f’me”, until he himself could take anymore, his cock pulsating and balls stiffening, until his voice got muffled by a low groan and you felt his seed fill you completely, gushing your insides and spilling down and off your walls.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whispered, tired. His forehead rested on your temple as you both calmed down, breathing harmonised. Logan awaited until you opened your eyes and delicately pulled his thumb from your mouth, brushing your hair off of your face.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you reciprocated, receiving a little peck on the lips, that turned into many many kisses all over your face while his palm messaged your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. Gonna pull out now, ‘kay?”

While Logan left to the bathroom to clean himself and find a cloth to clean you, you rested your chin on your forearms and stared up at the full moon through the window, sweetly reminiscing the last hour and thanking her for him. On moments like these all your mind could process was Logan Logan Logan.

“Here, bub,” he carefully whipped the fluids from your pussy, the pair of you giggling when you clenched in sensitivity, “c’mon, I draw the bath.”

You hand Logan spent another hour in the warm bath, cleaning and caressing and stealing kisses while the bubbles danced on your skin. You rested your head on his chest and lifted one finger, using the others to simulate a lighter to lit up the “candle”. “Here, make a wish,” you motioned it in front of his face, taking a laugh from him, who closed his eyes and made some funny faces to amuse you. He then blew your finger and playfully bit it, “what did you wish?”

“Well, I can’t tell you, can I?”

You kissed him and closed your eyes, laying back to your position on his shoulder.

“You. You’re my only wish.”

🎀🎀🎀

[erosology]

slow, sloppy makeout sessions with captain john price :( him coming home late from work, dark, puffy bags under his eyes and the stench of cigars clinging to his skin as an indicator of how stressful the day was. His strong brow furrowed in frustration but smooths out once he sees you; his hands reaching out to you and immediately pulling you in as soon as you’re within arm’s reach; wrestling you into his clutches so you two can watch a movie and unwind together; wandering fingers tracing the bare skin of your hip as your shirt hikes up higher and higher before splaying flat across your stomach; feeling his breath dance across the back of your neck as you try your hardest to follow along to the plot

“this part is really important, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear. “you need to pay close attention”

but you can’t—not when his familiar scent is filling your nose and you can feel the strong, reliable beat of his heart knocking against his ribs and his fingers are grazing against the band of your underwear. and somewhere along the way, you find yourself facing him and all of the beauty that is him and nearly go blind with love and lust, delicate fingers tracing the outline of your eyes as if teasing to tear them out. it’d be worth it, you think, worth having the last thing you see be your lover’s tired, handsome face

and after some more teasing and giggles, you feel his soft beard tickle your cheek and nearly melt into a puddle of desperation. hands shaking with need, you pull him closer by the collar of his shirt and a chuckle reverberates in his chest—low, sweet, tender

“eager, love?”

“jus’ wan’ you, john.”

“you've got me, silly girl. always have, always will”   

his fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt as his chapped lips brush against your cheek, and then your nose, and then he slowly grazes them across yours before he slots them together. his kisses, much like him, start off slow, sensual, gentle until the sparks dance together and a fire inevitably starts and you’re choking on cigar smoke and love and other minuscule things. his calloused palms graze your thigh, stomach, sternum, anything that reminds him of how human you both are and how much he adores your skin. soft moans and groans blend together until someone opens their mouth and then suddenly, tongues are tangled together as you try and swallow each other’s pants

somewhere along the way, you’ve wound up in his lap, grinding against his hardening cock, and now his hands are on your hips and encouraging your movement. more moans tumble out of his lips followed by some curses, his lips swollen and his tongue swiping across them

“f-fuck, baby,” he pants. “slow down. i want to taste you a bit more, yeah? kiss me some more.”

and how can you resist? truth be told, you think you might be able to sit on this very couch for the rest of your life, legs wrapped around his waist and fingers tangled in his hair, lips working against his and pulling pretty noises out of his throat. and honest to god, he thinks he would allow it, maybe even indulge in it a little. because he’s here in his living room, some sort of movie he lost track of the plot of long ago playing on his television, your teeth brushing against his bottom lip as you suck it into your mouth, surrounded by love and relaxation

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[uluvjay]

First time F1 Drivers kiss you…

| LEWIS HAMILTON | He kisses you the night he asks you to be his girlfriend, he set up a gorgeous dinner. Candles, roses, lights, delicious dinner. He kisses you so delicately and gently as he holds you so close.

He pulls away slowly, his thumb caressing your cheek before dipping in for one more sweet kiss.

| CHARLES LECLERC | it’s your third or fourth date and he’s done his best to be a proper gentleman and not overstep but you’ve got some sauce on the corner of your lip and as he reaches to wipe it away a soft gasp escapes from you and all of his self control breaks.

He’s sliding across the booth and locking your lips, it’s like it’s feels like everyone disappears and it’s just you two, your fingers lace in his hair to pull him closer. Hes happy with his decision to rent out the restaurant once the two of you finally pull away breathless and red.

| LANDO NORRIS | Lando would kiss you on the third date, he takes you out on a late night yacht ride and it’s slow, longing, eye contact before he’s turning your head all the way and pulling you into a sweet kiss.

He wants you and likes you and he’s not afraid to show it. You’re his person and he knew it right away, ever since the first kiss he hasn’t been able to keep his lips and hands off of you.

| CARLOS SAINZ | He invited you over to make dinner together and your hands keep brushing, personal space gets smaller and smaller and next thing you know he’s pulling you in close. It’s slow and intimate as his hands grip your hips tight before pulling away when the oven beeps.

Your flushed and he’s smirking, you two continue on like nothing has happened until he’s walking you to your car at the end of the night and ends up pinning you against your car this time with your lips locked in a hot kiss.

| LOGAN SARGEANT | he has you on a fishing date and you catch your first fish, you’re jumping around excited but he can’t help but admire you. You finally catch his gaze and he pulls you into a soft kiss that has both of you blushing and pulling away with a soft giggle.

“So if I get that for a little blue gill, what do I get for a big one?”

| OSCAR PIASTRI | He’s been staring at your lips all night and you’re sitting in the car outside of your house, he’s rambling on about how much fun he had and you surge forward and lock his lips in a soft kiss. He had been afraid of overstepping but when your lips touch he feels the sparks and when you pull away he’s like “oh-“

Needless to say next date he wasn’t afraid to pull you into a kiss and show you that he can lead as well.

| DANIEL RICCIARDO | You two are having a little picnic in his backyard on his farm, you’re sitting in the bed of his truck with some wine and after a night of jokes, stories, and country music, you both find yourself leaning in. It’s slow and gentle and your both beaming as you pull away, he gives you a few more soft pecks before pulling away completely and cuddling you into his side.

| LANCE STROLL | He does it because it just feels right, you’re in the middle of saying something but he’s been staring intently at your lips for a good 30 seconds before he cuts you off by turning your face towards him and kissing you. You’re surprised but kiss back quickly, he pulls away when you both need air and apologizes before telling you to please continue with what you were saying.

| MAX VERSTAPPEN | He has you at your front door after your third or fourth date, you’re both leaning in to kiss each other’s cheeks but you slip up and somehow your lips connect. You both jump away and he doesn’t really know what to say but he doesn’t need to before you’re moving forward and locking lips, purposefully this time.

| ALEX ALBON | You two went go-carting, it’s cheesy but cute. Some would find it odd but the second you told him you could easily beat him he had to prove you wrong-except he didn’t! You’re on the top step of the little makeshift podium, he’s taking your picture of you with your fake trophy and he’s hyping you up.

Later that evening after some food he has you at your front door, you’re both joking a little about the day and next thing you know his hands are on your hips and your lips are locked. It’s slow and passionate, his touch ignited butterflies in your stomach and you both find yourselves blushing when he pulls away.

[deanssluvr]

JOOST WITH A GIRLY!READER HCS

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

content: RPF. sfw + nsfw. pre-established relationship.

a/n: randomly felt the urge to write this at 3am.

SFW

- your style was the first thing he noticed about you when you met. you were a pink floral dress and heels with ribbons that decorated your hair. he thought you were beautiful. you took his staring as something negative at first, but was relieved when he complimented your outfit.

- you were nervous to bring him over to your place, but he was absolutely mesmerized by the way it was decorated.

- one of his favorite dates with you was when you both went to build a bear. you had asked him to get matching bears with you to which he happily agreed. you both settled on getting frogs. his green and yours pink. you dressed yours like a princess and he dressed his like spider-man. at the end you both exchanged them, so you kept his and vice versa.

- you both send pictures of each other doing things with said stuffed animals. like he’d send a pic of him out shopping with it or you’d send a pic cooking with it.

- he noticed your love of decorating so he goes out of way to buy you things that reminds him of you. whether it be little trinkets, a stuffed animal, or a record that he thinks you’d like.

- you have heavily influenced his style since he’s been with you.

- he always handles your stuffed animals with care. talks to them as well.

“how do you think she looks?” he looks down at the stuffed bunny in his hand and nods as if listening to a second opinion. “me too. i think she looks beautiful.”

- he enjoys sitting and watching you do your makeup and skin care routine. likes seeing how much care you put into it. there are a few times where he asked you to do his makeup. sometimes it was just simple eyeliner, but he loved it.

- on that same note you asked if he wanted to do a face mask with you one night and his face lit up immediately. now every once in a while you include him in your skincare routine.

- he lets you paint his nails a new color almost every week and always lets you pick the color. sometimes he just matches with whatever color your nail set is at the time.

- ties your shoes and buckles your heels for you without asking.

- you never pay for anything while he’s around because he never gives you the chance. dinner? new clothes? a piece of jewelry you looked at for only a few seconds? he’s already got his card out for you.

- he sleeps better at your place. it’s mostly because of you, but also because of how goddamn comfortable your bed is. the thick soft comforter? the many fluffy pillows? the pink sheets? he’d always fall asleep quickly in your bed.

- enjoys taking baths over showers with you. loves the scent of your soap you use and the bubbles you put in it. loves the way your hands gently wash him.

- learns how to do your hair. watches so many videos and asked you one day if he could do it. you spent the day doing your hair with him. he looked so concentrated and you found it so sweet.

NSFW

- he is obsessed with how you look in your lingerie sets. he loves the way the delicate lace and satin looks on you. he’s always hesitant to take it off of you.

- although he loved everything you wore, he had to admit that you in skirts were always his favorite. maybe it’s because your legs just look so good in them, or it’s actually because he loves thinking about how pretty they are pushed up your hips while he fucks you from behind. who knows?

- he turns your stuffed animals around whenever you both fuck. he told you it’s because he doesn’t want them to watch.

- he actually prefers having sex at your place though he never tells you. your bed is just so comfy with all the pillows and soft blankets that you layer on it.

- nothing but praise. even when he’s pounding into you harshly or fucking himself further into your throat, he’s still whispering sweet praises into your ear.

“so pretty taking my cock like this.”

“fuck, you’re so perfect”

“you’re doing so good for me schat.”

- loves the way you say his name. you could just be trying to get his attention and he’d melt at how his name sounds on your tongue. but he especially loves hearing you moan his name when your fucking. how desperate you sound for him almost brings him over the edge every time.

- won’t admit it, but the way you smell turns him on. when you hug him or simply just sit next to him and he could smell that perfume that he loves, he’s already getting hard.

- eats you out like you’re his last meal. would do it for hours if he could. prefers giving you head over anything. just loves the way you taste and even more so the sounds you make.

[bunnys-kisses]

backwoods!logan howlett lived out in the woods (duh). a nice warm trailer out of the reaches of most. it gave the rugged "hero" some peace, coffee in the morning, lunch from the small fridge, and a warm cooked meal in the evening. while he honestly could've moved closer to the nearby town, but he had to protect you. not that you'd hurt anyone, you could barely get a spider out of the shower without being next to tears. but rather, the world was a scary place, too scary for someone as small as you.

you were logan's sweet little wife. smiles and giggles as you made him breakfast in the tiny kitchen of your home. you moved his hand away when he tried to steal bacon right out of the pan. "you're not an animal, james." you scolded with your arms crossed. he simply kissed you on the lips, the taste of bacon grease on them, "can't help it, beautiful." he remembered when you first started to make him breakfast and how the eggs would be burnt and the bacon wasn't crispy. took a good little while, but you now got it. and you made him lovely meals. especially when he stood behind you with his hands on your hips. he was a gruff older man, much older than you. his appearance didn't give way to how old he was. even if you tried to rule your relationship by "vampire logic" (where you went off by how old the immortal person looked) you'd still turn a few heads.

his arms wrapped around you as you finished making him his morning coffee. wasn't long before the mug was put to the side and you were put on top of the counter. your panties pulled to the side and your apron flipped up. that was what logan liked about you. you were just so agreeable with him. you flowered under his attention, especially when his cock was involved. you held onto his shoulders as he got his cock out of his jeans before he rubbed it up against your slick pussy. "pretty thing." he chuckled, "pretty, pretty thing." he smelt like nature and smokes. he smelt like the home you two made. the small diamond in your ring gleamed as you held onto his shoulders as he started to move against you. you kissed him a little and moaned when he groped at your pretty breasts. this life felt so removed from the one you had previously. no longer were you stuck on subway or waiting at the photocopy machine. you weren't spilling coffee all over your white work blouse or breaking your heels on subway grates. you were a wife now, you had the certificate and the ring to prove it. he married you in the little chapel in town, painted a brighter white than the thrifted dress you wore. you both had no family to speak of, but a few of the people in town were happy to dress in their finest and celebrate your special day. the bouquet you had was made from flowers found around the trailer you lived in and in front of the church. a delicate array of wild flowers and the planted tulips at the church. logan held you in his arms while he played music on the record player. even seven months after the wedding you were happy with the life you shared with him. especially when his cock was hitting against all your sweet spots. your nails dug into the well worn fabric of his flannel shirt with his strong calloused hands held onto you soft hips. if anything had changed since marriage it was that you had a healthier glow to you and a little softness in your middle. logan loved it, he loved shoving his face into your breasts while on the couch after he fixed the satellite dish on the room. a reward for working on the roof. he loved to kiss you soft stomach, worship your goddess body.

he continued to move against you, watching your breasts bounce in his face as he moved against you. if you weren't wearing a shirt (his shirt) at that moment, his face you be between them and he'd be biting at the soft flesh until it bruised. what a possessive old man! his lips crashed into yours once more as he bruised your hips with his hands. he pressed you tightly against him as his cock hit against your softest areas. it made him see stars as he bullied his cock against your sweet cervix. he was a hungry man, he could feel the urge in his teeth. he wanted to bruise his beauty, not in a way that would cause problems. just a few marks across your supple skin. you were meant to be protected, but also marked. and while logan had many ways to do that, his favourite was leaving his finger prints and bite marks across your skin. he knew it turned you on too, he also knew if he went too far you'd tell him. that was what marriage was, right? communication. you kicked your legs out a little as you sloppily made out with your older husband once more. you felt warm all over, it was an inferno in your body as he fucked you. your nails clawed at his strong shoulders. he was so much stronger than you, even without all his abilities. he could lose them tomorrow and he could still bend you in half with ease. logan was the big scary wolverine and you were his little soft puppy. he needed to protect you. his lips grazed across your neck as you held onto the edge of the kitchen counter for support. no one could hear you for kilometers. even if someone drove by the dirt road that led to you homestead, they'd keep driving if they knew what was best for them. "logan!" you yelped. "i got ya, beautiful." he promised with another searing kiss. you knew you wouldn't last much longer. you whined against the kiss as you went white-knuckled on the counter, your legs locked around him and you climaxed around his cock. you leaned back as you relaxed, almost hitting your head on the cabinet if logan hadn't leaned forward and cupped the back of your head with one hand. he used his hand on you to pull you closer. he groaned into the kiss, he tasted like home as he finished inside of you.

he soon pulled out and got your panties on your properly. cum stained the front of the them from both ends. the slickness from his cock as he tapped the head against your clothed pussy and inside as his cum drooled out of you. you relaxed further against the cupboards, and put your arms loosely around your lover. your cheeks felt searing hot as you giggled, "i hope you know that your morning coffee doesn't always come with a side of pussy." he sighed almost dramatically before he smiled at you a little, "too bad. i think that's a great business model." then got himself back into his pants before he helped you off the counter. you held onto him as your legs felt a bit shaky. you noticed the forgotten coffee and said, "i guess i need to remake it." then pouted a little but logan took your face in his hands and said, "don't worry, i think that gave me the energy i'll need all day." <3

[trulyumai]

sweet wine and messy lips

pairing: emperor geta / empress! reader

synopsis: in which geta and his wife get drunk. even clumsy and lost in a stupor, the emperor still tries to adore you in his own way.

warnings: geta talking down to people, grabbing.

a/n: im re-entering my heimdall phase (gow2) so be on the lookout for that and I apologize in advance for another hyper fixation taking me over completely

enjoy!

your hand nudged the goblet towards geta, tipping it ever so slowly to his lips until a bright maroon dusted across the pink expansion.

“try it— you’ll like it my liege I swear it!”

Geta only scoffed, his cheeks red with drunken clumsiness.

“get that away from me, wife. I’d rather drink poison than to sip on such a disgrace of wine.”

you pouted instantly, already drunk yourself, the sweet wine wafted off your figure like a cheap oil. “pretty please, husband? it’s got all the flavors you like,”

listing them off slowly, your other hand began its decent up his arm and finding passage massaging his shoulder. Geta, ever soft for your hands couldn’t help but relax in such a comforting hold.

“cherries, a hint of cinnamon—“

gods you smelled divine.

so sweet, so alluring to the man that he could sweep you off your feet right then and there.

“did I say grapes? it has honey too, just the right amount—

“wife,” the emperor shuddered. your fingernails found their way up his chest, lightly circling and smoothing their way across it as you were lost in thought, too busy naming of ingredients instead of paying attention to the now flustered lord.

“wife!” Geta interrupted, seizing your moving hand with his own ringed one.

fearing you did something wrong, your posture instantly froze; rigid and stiff.

‘calmly, you fool.’ Geta’s thoughts rang out, his grip lightened and with a feathery touch made its way to the jawline just in front of him.

clenched and tightened with stressful thinking.

“I… apologize, little wife,” he finally gritted out. you were so beautiful tonight. it’s as if the stars molded across your eyes and lit up the expansion of your pupils with untold dreams and conquests.

He wanted to drown in them.

“im tired, hm?”

your lip wobbled before a look of surprise took over the reddened and messy features you displayed.

“of course, my emperor! how could I be so silly?”

getting up off the man’s lap, you felt a tug upon the material of your robe.

it was light, but firm enough for you to turn your neck back around with a slow uneasiness and to the emperor once more.

he laid comfortably against the seat, sagging into it while his legs spread with enough of a widened expansion for your body to mold into.

his arm, the one that wasn’t connected to your delicate robes— sat against the ginger hairs littering his head, with his fingers pushed against the pale temple, making his upper body lean to the side.

he looked relaxed. happy, one might say.

“you will return with me, won’t you, wife?” although it sounded like a question, you knew it wasn’t.

even in your drunken state, the man’s stature—his temper is a trait you won’t easily forget.

so instead of having one more glass, like you had intentions of doing, you nodded in agreement.

it’s all geta needed to hear, or rather, see before clumsily gathering himself out of the throne.

instantly, the party goers raised, bowing their head completely before the man could demand them of it.

usually, the emperor would make a show of this. mumble on about how well trained they are, how obedient.

“their more like animals,” he would scoff, laughing vehemently while tugging you along. possessive fingers grazing your waist with the cool feeling of the rings brushing against any revealing skin.

such a touch brought you back to the present, cold and calculated against the backside of your dress.

following your husbands bounding steps, you avoided the looks that were thrown your way. it wasn’t wise to get drunk in front of so many people, you knew it wasn’t.

but geta had insisted.

“we’re winning the war, dearest.” he had all but giggled, pouring heaps of wine into your (once) empty goblet.

“I ordered it special for you, drink up before Caracalla gets to it, hm?”

you had peered into the drink with newfound interest. a little smile entered your face and pushed against your cheeks. such a sight almost made the emperor flustered—he’d blame it on the wine, most definitely.

it was indeed a light red, the color of the sweet wine you always loved to sip on. upon closer inspection, the smell made its way up and into your senses.

what was a few drinks? you had thought. And with a quick note of appreciation to your husband, the goblet had graced your lips.

who knew it would bring you here, barely holding yourself up against geta as you both made way for the chambers?

his left palm spread out easily against your back. with a firm hold he took lead, guiding you through the stone walls and to the bed that was calling his name.

his other hand braced against the rough wall to the side—just in case he needed to push against it.

“husband?” he heard you call out, with a low drawled out hum, geta responded.

“thank you for the wine.” your sweet voice spoke so low.. so softly against the muffled laughter and voices that spilled out of the throne room.

his fingers came up to the back of your neck, seizing it with a loving grip before his lips crashed upon the top of your head.

he had aimed for your cheek, but this will do.

“anything for you, lovely.” geta purred against the softened locks, already his arms snuck their way under your buttocks, groping and touching the flesh there.

the guards had to move a bit behind, just beside the corner of the wall to avoid any further groping and kissing that was being displayed.

it was turning out to be a sweet night indeed.

[kings-highway]

haikyuu ships but its really soft fluffy kiss edition. basically tooth-rottingly sweet ficlets.

daisuga: it is the peak of summer, and theyve been at the beach all day and there's sand everywhere, and they're sunburnt and exhausted. Half the team has gone off to find a place for dinner, the other half is asleep under umbrellas. Suga and Daichi are sitting a ways away, toes in the water, popsicles melting rapidly. Suga has been laying his cheek on Daichi's shoulder for a while - he's sleepy and he never wants this day to end. So he turns his head, lazy and giggly and kisses a soft line across his shoulder, up to his neck. And Daichi smiles and laughs and asks what he's doing but Suga just shrugs and tells him its nothing, he's just really, really happy.

iwaoi: they work really hard and everyone knows it but Oikawa is always going to take losing really hard. Some days harder than others. On a particularly bad day, Oikawa is crying and curled up on his bed and he's been ranting about how mad he is but Iwa knows that anger is mostly directed at himself. So when Oikawa finally takes a breath, and Iwa stands up to go get something for dinner, because he knows Oikawa will forget until real late otherwise, he stops before the door, and turns back, and takes Oikawa's head in his hands, holding him delicately, and leans down to kiss his forehead, letting it linger far longer than he had planned. And Oikawa is still crying but Iwaizumi mumbles that it'll all be okay, and he can't help but nod along with him, and maybe he even starts to believe it.

ushiten: tendou takes pride in his position on the team, and always commits to his blocks, which means during practice it's not uncommon for him to get his fingers jammed trying to block Ushiwaka. It hurts more than usual this time, the nail having torn up a bit at a bad angle. Ushijima feels terrible, and excuses himself to help, apologizing over and over and over again as they sit on the bench, and he helps him wrap the tip of his finger to keep it protected. Then, when he's finished with the tape, holding Tendou's hand oh-so-delicately, he lifts it up to press the softest, most careful kiss to his finger. Tendou absolutely melts, incoherantly stumbling over trying to say he accepts his apology with the most pathetic, lovestruck expression.

arankita: its over spring break, they've been out a lot with the twins and Suna and each other, really making the most of their last year of high school, and they keep promising to make time to just hang out together, and it just does not work, but the spring is so lively and fun they cant be mad. They go with the team to a theme park, and Aran really wants a chance to get Kita alone and maybe tell him how he feels. The whole day passes, though, and they never do, and eventually theyre saying goodbye. And Aran thinks all is lost, but Kita pulls him back, and pulls him down, and kisses him just an inch from his lips, soft and warm and lingering, and he pulls back slowly but keeps a hand on his jacket, and thanks him for always being there. And they definitely shouldnt invite the team next time.

kagehina: they spend their free day out in a grassy field in a park, tossing a volleyball around because neither of them can ever get enough. But they do need to take breaks, to catch their breath and drink water. Kageyama sits down on the grass and sips from his bottle and watches the bugs that are flitting about. One thing turns to another, and what was just a water break turns into a long rest, laying in the sun together and laughing over every stupid thing. When Kageyama catches Hinata staring at him, he tries to act annoyed and wave him off, but Hinata is fast, and leans forward to kiss the tip of Kageyama's nose before laughing and bouncing back to his feet to say that its time to get back to the game. Kageyama turns pink, grabbing at his nose as if offended, but he cannot help but smile back.

[tinytennisskirt]

Chrysalism

noun. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm

summary: you wake up on a particularly dark and dreary early morning, needing to head into work a little too early for your liking. not to fiancée! art’s liking either- in asking you to stay, there’s the privilege of partaking in your morning routine in a sweet, slow, domestic, display of connection n a little smut. maybe you don’t really need to go to work anyway-

warnings: super sweet!!! kissing, having hair washed, easy touches- balance of fluff and smut: super slow n sexy unprotected shower sex <3

“I have work,” you groaned, hitting the alarm button. Art stretched out as you returned your torso to the bed, sighing heavily. It was still dark out and the rain pattered heavily against the window. You could hear the wind as it hit the side of the house and blew the trees outside. “I don’t want to go.”

“So don’t,” Art sighed, slinking his hand over the bare skin of your waist. Smooth hands over your smooth skin. It would be a dark day, clouded over, the weather had said. The first step was to shower but with Art’s arm around you, it felt wrong to move. You looked at him, his eyes shut, perfectly eyelashes resting closed. You admired his nose, his eyebrows, the curve of his lips. He was so pretty. His inhale, his exhale, in the blue static darkness of the room.

“I have to go,” you whispered, running your hand through his hair. You’d slept with your ring on, you noticed- and you smiled.

“Stay,” he shook his head just slightly, his fingers dipping into your skin a little tighter. “Please.” He planted a soft kiss on the skin of your shoulder. Non-sexual, yet entirely intimate. You hated your responsibilities more than anything, you hated needing money to live because if it wasn’t needed, you’d stay in a heartbeat. You’d stay and sleep again, no hesitation. Every bone in your body wanted you to stay, to sleep, to lean over and kiss him for as long as you wanted, but you had to go. His ‘please’ echoed around your head.

“Mmm- I want to, I promise,” you exhaled softly. “Can’t.”

His eyes opened just the slightest bit, his mouth twisting to the side a little. “Okay.” You could hear the slight rumble of thunder outside your window, soft shadows of drops of rain patterning the white comforter. He was so pretty, eyes closed again, face against the pillow, arm still around you.

You leaned in and kissed him gently. Lips soft, a kiss so perfectly delicate. Reciprocated, just the same. His other hand pushed your hair behind your ear before cupping your face, a tired motion, noted from how slow of a motion it seemed to be. The kiss was also slow- and warm. Warmer than outside would be. Warmer than leaving this bed would be. Slow and all-consuming.

His hand on your waist, fingertips less gentle, but still keeping that same pressure as they stayed on the soft skin of your back. Your hand rested on his smooth chest, sliding down around his ribs and back again. Your eyes stayed closed, it felt like maybe you were still sleeping. You wished you were still sleeping.

The kiss was only a moment long, but it was hard to pull away from. The disconnect of your lips felt wrong. On a day like this, you were meant to stay. The rain was telling you so, the thunder outside was yelling at you, most importantly, Art had wanted it. Your hands slid up the back of his neck, coming to rest partially in his hair and to cup his face just slightly. His tired smile and closed eyes, those gorgeous eyelashes fluttering just the slightest bit.

“I love you,” you reminded him, kissing him on the nose. His grin spread wide across his perfect face as he kissed you again properly.

“I love you too,” he told you, then kissed you on the cheek. Your hands slid down from his face, one of them trailing down his arm, squeezing his hand when you got to it. His smile stayed as you squeezed his hand.

You slid off the bed, hand still in his, the blankets falling around you. As you stood, his hand fell from yours. You crossed the room, grabbing a towel off the newly folded pile from the day before, and you grabbed a second towel thoughtfully. Of course, Art, in love with you, was watching you stand across the room in only your underwear. His smile was still there, of course. “You coming?” You asked him cheekily, opening the door to the bathroom. His eyes widened just a little, both at the light pouring from the bathroom, and at your offer. You didn’t wait for an answer, but you turned on the shower and best believe he was up and out of bed in a second. He might have been rubbing his left eye of the sleep, but he was up.

You smiled and he chuckled as he swayed into you, arms slinking around your waist as you shut the bathroom door. “Sorry I’m waking you up with me,” you smiled. He grinned back and you swayed just slightly back and forth another moment.

“I don’t mind,” he nodded, grinning before he bent to kiss you just once. You pardoned him in order to strip down the rest of the way. He tested the water while you did so, standing in only his boxers. The moment you were entirely naked he glanced over and grinned the widest he had yet today, before shutting the light off. It was more ambient that way, you figured. Plus, it probably helped Art with the boner he sported the moment you asked him to come shower with you. You placed the ring on the counter safely-

Wordlessly, too early for too many words, really- you both stepped into the shower. You grabbed the soap and began to wash down. The warm water was a dangerous threat to fall back asleep. You heard Art yawn behind you, using his bar of soap, known by the familiar apple-y scent. Soap and rinse, easy enough. The thunder outside could be heard just slightly over the sound of the running water. “What time are you off today?” Art asked.

You felt a cold liquid on your head and you flinched just a little before realizing it was only Art putting shampoo in your hair. His hands followed, gently putting it through your hair. You allowed your eyes to shut. “4:30,” you replied. “It’s not too bad today. We can get dinner if you feel up for it.”

“Italian?”

“I’ll be thinking about it all day,” you hummed. His hands felt good on your scalp. They were slow-moving but had the perfect pressure. Gently getting the shampoo in every place it was needed. He was sweet for this.

“I’ll pick you up then,” he answered. “4:30.”

“4:30,” you nodded. His hands left your hair so you turned around to rinse it out while he started on his own hair. Eyes shut, water running down your body, shampoo rinsing down the drain. Once it was all out, you wordlessly swapped places with Art to let him rinse himself off. Sleep still hung in the air, the white noise of the water and the thunder and the warm of the water was not helping it disappear. You were both so slow-moving it was apparent you weren’t the only one feeling it.

The outline of his body in the dim of the darkness was so pretty. His hand slid around your waist as you switched spots once more for you to put conditioner through your hair and rinse it out. The moment it was rinsed, you felt both of his hands slip around your waist and find places to rest on your lower back. He stepped closer to you, bodies pressed together, water running down the channel that was made where your skin met. You grinned, “Art.”

“Yeah?”

You looked up at him, seeing his smile, even in the dark. The smile he sported even as he kissed you. The kiss was slow again, gentle, slightly slippery but entirely calculated. Your hands slid over his chest, up over his shoulders and around his neck. The water poured over the both of you as the kiss deepened. He was so gentle, the way his hand slid back up your waist and down your hip again, over your ass. Wet skin on wet skin, an open-mouthed kiss that somehow sent shivers down your spine even in the warm water.

The kiss stayed tame, though it didn’t stop any overwhelming emotion from seeping through. You could feel him getting hard against you, a second time, but still appreciated. You giggled through the depth of the kiss. “Shhh,” he grinned into another kiss to silence you. Still slow, still tame, still easy. Cold shivers replaced by warm wanting. Removing your body from flush against him, your hand slowly sliding down his arm, over his hip, coming to rest on his shaft. He flinched, just slightly. He wouldn’t stop you, of course not. His kiss faltered for just a moment.

Your hand slowly began to push up and down his length. You took a step backward, pulling him with you with your back against the cold shower wall. He kissed you no harder as you worked him gently, however, he sighed harshly as you did. Between breaths and water was pure magnetism and an undeniable course of action. Undeniable in the way he gently moved your leg upward and you didn’t stop him either. Slowly. So slowly. Coming to rest in his arm, partially set foot on the edge of the tub.

It was slow, how your hand moved in order for him to properly line up and sink into you. With a slowness that begged not to be, but sent a warm flush through your entire body, through every vein. You let out a mutual sigh as he sank into you entirely against the wall. Levelled just perfectly, one hand of his now resting on the wall above your head. You grabbed onto his back, the open, bare skin the only thing you really could grab as you felt him slowly fill you. A little out of the plan but god, you’d never stop him.

His breath was shaky a moment, but gained pace as he slowly moved back out, then slowly back in. The pace was steady, sleepy, and so fucking good. His lips against yours felt just a little less calculated, as were yours, sharing air with him as the droplets dripped between your lips. This angle seemed to work for the both of you- all too well. Both of you, muffling the noise of the thunder with heavy breathing at such a slow… pace… that… every… feeling… dragged… itself… out… to… every… nerve… ending… in… your… body.

You kissed him just a little harder but never any faster. Grabbing at him like he could get any closer, buried inside of you, slowly thrusting in and upward. He never failed to make your head spin just a little. Even this… as slow as it was, added to just how good it felt. It saved you from thinking about work another second- god, you had to work after this. He kissed you back just the same, god, his kiss was so perfect. All of this, perfect.

Your other arm slid up his back, up behind the back of his shoulder, hooking on as best you could, keeping him close, so close, god, you were so close. Handlessly, so close. He wasn’t even- “God-“ You breathed.

“Fuck,” Art muttered. You were on the same page, you felt him get slightly sloppier and slightly faster. Only slightly, still all-filling and still perfect and every thrust was so-

His lips met yours again, strong, careful not to push your head against the wall, but enough to consume you the way he needed to. You were teetering on a rare edge, one that usually didn’t come around without extra help. You were chasing it up, so was he. It was almost simultaneous, the way it happened, unravelling slowly like rope drawn by a boat. Every wave of pleasure built and joined into one big wave that spilled over.

The both of you came undone, his grip on your leg tightening the same way your grip on his side and his shoulder increased. He was good, he was so good, too good. He groaned against your lips, breathing heavily. You kissed just a few more times, small, easy. His forehead rested against yours a moment, only a moment, small smiles resting as the both of you tried to catch your breath. He was good. “Call in sick?”

“I feel a cough coming on,” you breathed with a giggle. You kissed him again, just quickly. Might have been the quickest thing about the entire morning. He grinned that perfect crooked grin, visible even in the darkness.

He kissed your forehead and after a moment of rinsing, the water got turned off, you got wrapped in a towel and you were on the phone with your boss, who completely understood. You hardly ever took any days off and you were well-loved, so of course she let you go. The moment that phone was down, you jumped back into bed, right next to Art, who had kept the lights off.

Your head rested on his chest as you wordlessly traced patterns in the droplets on the soft skin of his stomach. The thunder continued to rumble outside and the room seemed to continue to dim. Still so early, you didn’t mind that you knew you were falling back asleep. Art kissed the top of your head, just gently, but sweetly. “Italian still?”

“Dreaming of it.” You replied tiredly. The two of you fell right back asleep, safely, soundly, and together. A little damp, but still warm on a cold, dark morning.

- I keep losing track of taglist, let me know if you want to be on it <3

taglist: @ellzbellz18 @swetearss @iluvsmut36 @colorful-teaparty @ke4s @lalalandofive @ladystardust-thinks

[milliesfishes]

꣑ৎ౨ৎ𝓜𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓾𝓶꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: murder, descriptions of blood pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary:you are famed as a maneater, a monster. when Billy meets you he finds out the truth author's note: hii!! this was originally going to be for flufftober but I decided to publish it now! consider it a little taste of what's coming!! Mwah Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The way you held his name between your lips was bloodlust.

Billy was unsure of the state of his soul, but if he ever found out exactly how filthy it was, he'd strain to unbind it from yours, rip and the seam until the frayed threads of love were waving at him from your side. You didn't deserve to have the burden of loving a man so sinful.

Your unbridled, uncontrollable thirst for blood did little to sway him from you. If anything it only heightened his awe until it was level with the sun. Despite your body's immortal need for what ran through human veins, you were achingly sweet, so darling and curious about the world around you. The wonder of your being captivated him wholly.

As the door creaked open, Billy looked up from where he'd been cleaning his gun, the heat of the fire warming the barrel. Sheathing it back into its place in his discarded belt, he turned as your soft footsteps punctured the previously silent atmosphere.

You looked tired, exhausted, even. In the dim glow casting shadows across your body, he could see the dirt on your dress, on your feet. Many a time, he'd begged you to wear shoes to protect you from the forest elements, but you insisted you didn't need them.

Getting to his feet, Billy met you halfway, drawing you into his arms immediately. "Hi baby...was it a good hunt? You okay?" He thumbed away some of the blood on your chin and you winced.

"Mhm. It was fine," you murmured, voice as delicate as a butterfly's wing. His brow creased in concern. Despite the fact that you'd just eaten, you still seemed weak, weaker than you should be.

He brushed a strand away from your cheek, cupping your face. "Honey, what'd you end up eatin'?"

Your eyes fell to the ground, a tinge of shame in them. "A...a deer."

Billy sighed, his hand sliding to the crown of your head and pressing you into his shoulder. "Baby..."

"I know, I know," you whispered, immune to his concerns. Though animal blood would do the trick in a pinch, you were only supposed to use it in just that. He'd told you a thousand times, every time you went out to hunt that it wasn't healthy, that you needed something better. You were practically skin and bones in his arms at this point, not having fed on human blood for nearly two months. He was worried about you withering away, like a dried leaf in autumn.

Clenching his jaw, he rubbed his hand up and down your back, a fruitless attempt to warm you. Your skin remained cold as snow no matter what he did. Despite that, you adored the warmth, soaking up the sun whenever you got the chance, sitting by the fireplace wrapped in both blankets and his arms most evenings. He led you there now, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt after you were both sat.

He pulled you between his legs, bracing you against his chest with both arms. Sliding one closer over your collarbone, he watched as his scent overwhelmed you just like he wanted it to.

For a moment you were still, leaning back and closing your eyes. The centers of them were enhanced due to your lack of blood, he knew, shiny like a lake at midnight. Your hands came up to hold his bare forearms as your back curved to fit the contours of his chest, the warmth emanating from the fireplace practically melting you into his arms.

Waiting a moment before he asked, Billy nuzzled his cheek into your hair, nosing a kiss there. "Could you take some of mine?"

Stiffening, you shifted to face him, and he could see a no forming on your tongue. "I-"

Billy's gaze cut you off, and he caressed your cheek. "Darlin'...you need it. More than I do."

"Billy," you began helplessly, starting to shake your head. "I don't...I can't do that..."

He busied himself, shifting you as you mumbled reasons why you didn't want to take his blood. Pulling you to sit up straighter against his chest, he secured you to him, holding up one arm close to your mouth, pearly fangs hidden by a pretty mouth. In soft words, you called yourself a burden. He disagreed.

"C'mon," he coaxed, rubbing your side with his free hand. "Ain't gonna hurt me, sweet girl. Just have some."

You slackened, turning away from his arm and hiding your face in his chest. "Not from there."

His shoulders slumped. "Sweetheart. Please-"

"-too sensitive there," you finished, looking up into his eyes. His face softened, and you nodded, letting your hand fall to his side, just above his hip. "Here."

Billy pursed his lips, nodding. He let go of you, letting you lean against him as he unbuttoned his shirt, trying to be quick about it. You helped him slide it over his shoulders, and he tossed it aside, away from the fire.

Positioning you between his legs, Billy helped you lie on your stomach, unhooking his pants to push them down just slightly. You leaned down, and he braced you under your arm and across your back, holding you in place as you settled your chin on his thigh.

Soft as morning's first breath, you kissed his hip, shifting your head slightly to the side before leaning in and letting your teeth pierce his skin. He stifled a grunt, instead choosing to stroke your hair with his free hand, eyes glued to you as you fed from him.

What struck him was how careful you were being, as if when you removed your teeth you'd find cracks in his skin like porcelain. He couldn't help the tiniest smile- in the few seconds since you'd bitten down, he could practically feel your strength coming back.

"There you go," he mumbled, thumbing through your hair. "That's it. Atta girl. Get it in, get what you need."

His hand stayed on your head the entire time, thumb stroking you there. Once or twice, you tried to pull away, but he shook his head, nudging you back to the spot. "You ain't had enough. Go on."

Billy could have sat there an eternity, until his body was drained dry, nothing but bones and organs left in his body. He'd look up at you with one final touch and die happy knowing you were full. He wasn't a man who had much in this life, but all that he possessed was yours. His spirit, his life, his soul. He wrapped it all up and presented it to you proudly, a gift that was still too little.

You lifted your head after what he deemed a satisfactory amount of time, licking the crimson from your lips and bracing a hand over the wound. He smiled, smoothing your hair back. "Feel better?"

Drawing in a little gasp, your lower lip trembled, and his face fell. "Oh, honey...baby, sweetheart, c'mere. C'mere, it's okay. Whatsa matter, my love?" Billy drew you up into his arms, legs on either side of his thighs. He held you close to him, burying his face in your hair and moving his body back and forth, trying to rock you into being soothed. "'re you still not feeling well, sweet girl? Belly hurtin'?"

"I took your blood," you choked, voice hitching every other syllable. "I took it-"

His heart dropped. "I wanted you to. You needed it, pretty, needed it bad." Billy splayed his hand over your back, rubbing up and down. "Shh, don't cry. It's okay."

You sniffled, body relaxing under his touch. Where your breaths had once been crisp, they were now soft. As he murmured sweet nothings into your head, holding you tight to the shelter of his chest, you began to calm and he breathed a sigh of relief. His girl wasn't going to feel bad for keeping herself alive, not on his watch.

"It's okay?" you breathed, lifting teary eyes to look into his. He was relieved to see they were back to normal, his blood having placated the insatiable thirst inside you. That alone made whatever else would come worth it.

He nodded, tracing a heart into your cheek. "'s okay. More 'n okay."

You squeezed your eyes shut, nodding and hiding your face in his stomach. Billy breathed gently, letting you lie there as long as you wanted. He was relieved that you found comfort in him, that he was the one you trusted.

He'd fight tooth and nail to keep you safe, kill a thousand men for you to drink their blood. Day and night, fighting wind on horseback, Billy breathed for you. The sight of you drinking his blood was more than enough motivation to keep himself alive, and he thrived on it. On your love, the love that quenched his need the same way blood did yours.

Now as he held you, your stomach full, the color returning to your face, he revisited every vow he had made for you, as solemn as the grave, as real as if you'd walked down the aisle toward him to stand at the altar. If it killed him, he'd love you, as raw and real as anything he'd ever done.

Until his blood ran dry, until his heart was staunched by the mark of your fangs.

[runariya]

Prompt game:

🥰🤪👽

Alien Jungkook's tentacles try to get attention from the reader. But reader is mad and giving Jungkook the silent treatment. So tentacles decide to take it in their hands (?). I'm sorry my imagination is bad, but i trust yours ;)

a/n: I hope it's alright that I used this request as a Y(E)ARNED bonus...it just fits the couple so well

To spend your days alongside Jungkook is nothing short of pure bliss, a kind of beauty that shows itself in moments both grand and unspoken. There is, indeed, a profound sweetness in being the object of his love, of his adoration, a warmth that seeps into every corner of your existence, making even the most ordinary hours shimmer with a peculiar magic. 

Yet, as with all such beautiful things, this love, though a balm for your soul, does not come without its moments of maddening frustration—little flashes of exasperation that threaten, every now and again, to undo all the softness with their dizzying intensity.

It is during these moments of quiet contentment, where you’ve developed a peculiar fondness for collecting miniature porcelain figurines of Earth’s animals—everything from delicate little ducks to turtles no bigger than a thumb, from bees captured mid-flight to cows rendered in the most absurd detail. 

You‘ve chosen each piece meticulously, though the greater part of the collection, truth be told, bears the mark of Jungkook’s love and generosity. There’s no species left unrepresented, no space on the shelf unfilled. But amidst them all, there is one that‘s your favourite, a tiny maneki-neko with a raised paw and a chubby little face, who commands the centre of the shelf of your now shared home. And of all the figurines, this one—Jackson, with his impossibly cute charm—holds a special place in your heart, the only figurine affectionately christened with a name, as if that alone elevates him from all the others. 

So when you hear the unmistakable, gut-wrenching sound of porcelain colliding with the hard floor while you’re busy tidying the kitchen, something inside you breaks too. 

You turn and see Jungkook standing by the shelf, frozen, his wide eyes filled with a kind of helpless guilt, his lips parting to release the softest, most regretful “oh-oh” that barely registers in the quiet room. Jackson, once proudly perched in his rightful place, is nowhere to be seen, and the realisation dawns on you as swiftly as the growing pit of frustration inside you.

“What did you do?” you ask, your voice tinged with horror as you throw unceremoniously the dish towel aside, running towards the shelf, your heart and mind already brace themselves for the worst.

Jungkook’s wide, panic-filled eyes lock onto yours, and as you glance down to to find poor Jackson, or rather what remains of him, shattered and scattered across the floor in a hundred tiny pieces before Jungkook’s feet, your heart shatters too, as though a part of it has been dashed against the cold floor with Jackson. 

“No…” you desperately whisper, the word as fragile as all your figurines, as you resist the overwhelming urge to drop to your knees  and gather the broken pieces, knowing full well that no amount of careful reconstruction will restore Jackson to his former state.

This isn’t the first time Jungkook, with all his towering presence and boundless energy, has accidentally decimated one of your precious figurines, his sheer physicality, though endearing at many other times, always at odds with the delicate world you curated and that is so easily fractured. But this time, it’s Jackson, and somehow that makes it worse.

“I—I didn’t mean to,” he stammers, his voice fumbling over itself as he scrambles for some sort of excuse, eyes darting as if searching for a way out of the mess he’s created.

“Oh, right,” you say, incredulous, “Jackson just leapt off the shelf, did he? Jungkook, you knew he was my favourite! How could you—how could you let this happen?”

“I swear, it wasn’t me… it… it was them!” he protests, pointing towards his remaining two and free tentacles that hover ominously behind him, as though they too have witnessed the grand disaster. The tentacles, however, seem none too pleased with his accusation; they rear up, jaws flexing as though insulted, ready to challenge his words, daring him to continue with the absurdity.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, turning away, exasperation and resignation rolling off you in waves, the whole spectacle having become too much to bear, leaving the wreckage of both Jackson and your patience in your wake as you walk away, tired of this particular chaos.

"Princess, please, I’m sorry!" Jungkook follows you in a desperate attempt to soothe your anger, fully aware that he’s really messed up this time.

But you don’t answer. He’s destroyed your things more times than you can count—accidentally, yes, but still enough for you to give him the silent treatment before you say something you might regret. So when you enter your bedroom, lying down on your side and huffing with a blank stare, you refuse to acknowledge Jungkook, who’s now kneeling before you, clasping your tiny hands in his, puppy eyes in overdrive.

"I’m really sorry, Princess. Please forgive me, I’ll buy you another Jackson." Jungkook’s pleading eyes would usually make you give in, but this time he’s destroyed more than just a replaceable figurine. No, he murdered Jackson, your precious maneki-neko, taking your good fortune with him. So, no, you’re not giving in. You pull your hands away from his and huffily turn around to avoid his face.

Jungkook scrambles to his feet at that, running around the bed, stumbling over his own big feet, and jumping onto his side. "I mean it, I’ll buy you ten! A hundred! A million! Please, Princess, don’t be mad at me." But again, you just turn back around.

You hear Jungkook sigh in resignation as he plops down on his pillow, mumbling apology after apology that you’re not willing to acknowledge. It doesn’t take long before you feel one of his tentacles tentatively brush along your shoulder, but you shake it off, too fed up to accept any affection.

It tries again, but this time, you stop yourself from pushing it away, realising the tentacle—or rather, they—aren’t the ones at fault. A second tentacle soon joins, poking your side as if to tease you into letting go of your anger. But you still are, not at them, but at Jungkook. You start to pet them, though, and the simple action begins to soothe your frustration.

"Oh, so you’re giving them attention but not me?!" Jungkook whines.

"My precious babies," you coo lovingly, "got accused of doing something they didn’t."

"But they did! It’s all their fault!" He shouldn’t have said that, because his tentacles don’t see it like that though, and the next thing you hear is Jungkook yelping, "Ouch! Don’t attack me! Ouch! You’re supposed to protect me! Hey!"

You do your best to suppress the laugh bubbling up, knowing full well Jungkook deserves it for lying so boldly. When his tentacles slither back towards you, settling over and in front of you, you resume petting them, while Jungkook sulks silently behind you.

Your anger gradually fades, the soothing motions of Jungkook’s tentacles helping you calm down. "Do you know why Jackson was my favourote? He was the first figurine you ever gave me. On our 100th day anniversary." 

He remains silent, so you go on. "He wasn’t just a figurine. He was a symbol of our relationship and our good fortune."

"I’m sorry," Jungkook whispers, clearly sad now.

"You can’t replace him."

"I know."

"And you can’t make him whole again."

"I know." His voice is faint now, as if he truly understands just how deeply he’s messed up.

His tentacles begin to run along your arms, sensing your sadness too. You feel movement behind you, and as Jungkook’s breath fans across your neck and his big hand lightly strokes your arm alongside his tentacles, your resolve to stay mad a little longer disappears entirely. You turn around, facing his beautiful face and mesmerising eyes.

"I never understood why he was your favourite, but now I do. I’m really sorry, Princess."

"S’fine," you mumble, gently stroking his cheekbone.

"Do you want to know what my symbol of our relationship is?"

"Hm?"

Jungkook’s connected tentacles lift behind his back. "This. And this is something that’ll never break, no matter what."

Your eyes well up with tears because, frankly, he’s right. It shouldn’t be a fragile figurine that carries the very symbol of your love, but Jungkook himself. You regret ever giving Jackson that meaning, because there’s something so much stronger than porcelain—a living, conscious bond that shows just how meaningful and overwhelming your connection with Jungkook is.

"I’m sorry."

"You don’t have to be. Please don’t say that. I love you, Princess."

"I love you too, Jungkook."

And it's true, you’re the happiest woman in the world, now and always.

[another-identityofmine]

flowers

Elvis rarely let you in his closet like tonight. It’s not that he had secrets to keep or didn’t think you had such taste. It’s simply because he didn’t need anyone’s help. He had a god-given taste in everything he did, so you weren’t a tool he needed for dress up. But today, he felt generous…and a little down.

When you turn with two hangers of marvelous suits for him, you see his saddened lines on his forehead and a frown upon those lips. “What’s wrong, sugar?” You quip, putting down the clothes and walking over to him.

He turns to you with troubled blue eyes meeting yours, and his large, meaty frame that shadows over you. “Baby, it’s just…the press been saying that I’m fucking fat and forty…you think so?”

His eyes travel and scan over your face for your answer. You can only him and smile, reaching up with your dainty hand to gently cup his freshly shaven, smooth chin. “Hunny, I think you gained some muscle and meat. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It just makes you comfier to hug and sleep on.” You pull down his chin to make sure he looks you in the eye for his understanding.

Your hands slide down his squishy, soft cheeks that were decorated with those black and long sideburns that would tickle you always whenever you’d cuddle, to run over his shoulders.

Your small, delicate hands linger over his broad shoulder frame, traveling down to fancy themselves to his squishy and chubby arms that had meat for jiggling and worshipping.

He hums out and grumbles to himself, looking away as you continue your admiration. “B-but baby, t-they…the press, a-and mah fans. W-what am I gonna do?” You stop your works, pursing your plump pinks and tilting your chin up to see his face that contorts with worry.

If it wasn’t for the way he was feeling, you’d be blushing over his southern drawl that drips out of his damned lips, but you couldn’t blush like a school girl right now. It’s not like you were blaming him. It’s just, he had no reason to be insecure.

You huff and then plant your hands to his chest, sternly yet in a loving matter. “E, baby. Tell me, who’s putting his all into his career and never disappoints?” You raise a brow for the knowing answer.

“The press p-p-people-“ he begins to stammer out, but you don’t let him finish. You immediately prop up to your tip toes and press a warm kiss to his pillowy, soft marshmallow of lips. “No baby, not the damned press people.” You laugh softly out, and raise a hand to caress his left cheek, your thumb dragging to soothe his worries and insecurities over his cheek.

“I mean you, Elvis. Elvis Presley.” You smile and chirp, looking directly to meet his gaze and a gorgeous smile displays on his pink, moist lips.

“what’s got you so troubled anyway?” You hum out with furrowed brows and anxious eyes. He sighs and shrugs, looking off to the floor as his tinted glasses slip down his nose a little and you’re there to push the metal back up, while a pout plays against his lips again.

He huffs and his hands fly to tap his chest and tummy. “These fucking baggages that I carry and produce every day.” His hands shoot up to the air in frustration of yourself and you simply don’t understand.

He’s the most handsome and precious man of this world, and it breaks you almost that he has such thoughts of himself.

“Elvis, look, listen to me.” You say in a soft voice. You stand up on your toes as you pepper kisses along his clothed, thick shoulders. Loving and cherishing them as you should be. He watches, lips parted in awe as his eyes follow your sweet sweet lips.

“You’re the most gorgeous, handsome-est, prettiest, loveliest and beautifulliest man out here.” You whisper against his suited frame. You slowly unzip his blue kiddy jumpsuit that he wears today, just to move your lips over his chest.

He lets out a soft hum and whimper, watching with flushes scarlet cheeks. Your mouth doesn’t hesitate to linger over his chest that displays beautifully locks of dark, wiry and curly hair. You inhale the scent of his musky spicy sweat and sweet cologne, letting out a small moan.

“You’re prettier than the flowers that grow across the fields of green, you’re just and probably more beautiful than the sounds and drops of the sky’s cry of rain…you’re you.” You hum out in all honesty and love.

Your cheeks grazes over the plump skin that’s on his chest, his damp chest hair tickling your chin. Your hands move from h squeezing his arms lovingly, to cup those “tiddies” of his to help your lips over to sugar over his prodding and pretty belly.

Meanwhile, he watches with cheeks darker than scarlet and a grin that’s too adorable and could just crack his face.

You nuzzle your face into your tummy, then leaning back and licking your lips at the salty, tangy taste and scent of his sweat and manly fragrance. You smile and then quickly wrap your arms around him, as tight as you can. His prodding and bare chest that is smooshed against your clothed.

“you’re fair and forty.”

[rainforestakiie]

If you take request perhaps an Omega Adam x Omega Lucifer, where Lucifer protects Adam from Lilith (who is an Alpha), and throws her out of their nest .

The Omege lovers comfort each other and snuggle .. Just wanna have something cute 👉🏻👈🏻👀 ofcourse if you don't take request, you can ignore this !

love your stories on ao3 and your short stories here ! :)

hello, thank you for the message. i really hope you like this au! thank you so much for letting me be so creative. i worked really hard on it.

i love omegas in general and i love omega adamsapple. haha. it's so fun to write.

here is part 04 of promised souls! with your request added into it!

Promised Soul (Omegaverse Mythology AU) = Part 01. Part 02. Part 03. Part 04.

The warmth wrapped around Adam like a lover’s embrace, cradling him in a cocoon of blissful comfort. He ached to burrow deeper into the softness of his nest, surrendering to the quiet pull of sleep that fogged his mind and tingled across his skin. The gentle weight of drowsiness ghosted over him, drawing a sigh from his parted lips, soft and full of contentment. His long lashes fluttered, trembling against his cheeks, and a reluctant whine escaped as consciousness tried to tug him from the dreamy haze that enveloped him.

His eyelids twitched, heavy with the desire to stay closed, but he forced them open with a groggy grumble. Mornings had never been his friend, but this was especially cruel—the sky outside still clung to the edges of night. He yearned to sink back into the warmth, his eyelids already drooping again, inviting the return of sleep. A pleased hum escaped him as he felt a tender nuzzle against his mating glands, a gesture so sweet and intimate that it soothed his soul.

But then, something stirred uneasily within him. A knot of tension twisted deep in his gut, a signal from instincts older than thought. Adam blinked his eyes open once more, scanning the familiar, shadowed corners of his small, box-like flat. His brow furrowed in confusion, the unease settling in his chest like a stone. What was wrong? His Omega instincts screamed that something was off, though the room appeared unchanged.

His gaze flicked to the blankets across from his nest, disturbed and rumpled as though someone had once laid there but had since vanished. Who could it have been? Where could they have gone? Adam snorted, shaking off the eerie thought and lifting his arm to wipe his nose—only to freeze. His arm refused to move. Panic prickled through him as the realization struck—he couldn’t move at all. Not from lack of trying, but as if some unseen force held him bound. His muscles twitched in resistance as he struggled to turn his head, to glimpse what had become of his nest.

His heart skipped as his gaze fell on something strange—where there had once been worn-down pillows and tattered cushions, his nest was now lined with iridescent feathers, shimmering in every colour of the rainbow. They were soft, thick, and crossed in intricate patterns, moving in a slow, rhythmic rise and fall, as though breathing. The sensation was alive, unnervingly alive.

A delicate rattle reached his ears, and his eyes darted down toward his feet. There, nestled in the feathered confines, was the golden tail of a rattlesnake, shaking with a soft, deliberate rhythm. The tail was framed by white and blue feathers, scales glimmering like jewels in the dim light.

Adam’s breath caught in his throat. What in the world...?

Adam blinked slowly, his eyes tracing the length of the feathered serpent coiled around him. The creature’s scaled body shimmered with hues of gold, green, and blue, each intake of breath making the gleam more hypnotic. A shiver crawled up Adam’s spine as he became acutely aware of the soft, warm breath against the back of his neck, the nuzzling pressure sending goosebumps across his skin. His heart quickened at the realization of the black and green clawed hands draped protectively over his middle, holding him close in a tender embrace.

The Nephilim—Lucifer—had wound himself around Adam, claiming the nest and transforming it into something far more luxurious and warmer. Adam felt the temptation to surrender to it, to drift back into sleep with this divine being wrapped around him. But curiosity gnawed at him, and with a slight wiggle, he managed to shift from his side onto his back. A sigh escaped his lips as the weight of Lucifer settled more comfortably against him, familiar and intimate.

Lucifer’s face, sharp yet beautiful, nuzzled against the hollow of Adam’s throat, before brushing against his chest, his cheek nestling there as if Adam’s body had been made just for him to rest on. Gold and crimson eyes, both ethereal and dangerously alluring, peeked up at Adam through long, dark lashes. The Godling’s sinuous form coiled tighter, his body still tangled around them both, turning the nest into their shared sanctuary.

"Good morning," Lucifer greeted with an almost childlike yawn.

His full, red lips parting wide to reveal snake-like fangs nestled in the roof of his mouth. His soft tongue flicked out as he stretched, a small pearl of moisture gathering in the corner of his right eye. It was a sight so innocent and disarming, yet so utterly otherworldly.

“Morning,” Adam replied, blinking down at the divine being draped over him. His gaze flickered toward the rumpled blankets across the flat. “Didn’t I leave you over there last night?”

Lucifer hummed in response, pressing his cheek tighter against Adam’s chest, his purring breath vibrating softly through his body.

"It was too cold over there," Lucifer murmured, the words low and sweet, “And you looked so much more inviting.”

The Godling peeked up with a mischievous gleam, his forked tongue flickering out briefly, teasingly. His claws, sharp yet gentle, twined up Adam’s arms, gripping his shoulders possessively.

 “And you’re so warm...” Lucifer purred, his voice a sultry whisper, laced with affection.

Adam’s breath hitched as heat flushed his cheeks.

“O-Oh,” he stammered, a high-pitched sound escaping his lips, not quite a gasp, not quite a whimper, as Lucifer pressed a kiss to his collarbone, the touch light but electric. “W-Well, um... maybe you should... move?”

"Move?" Lucifer’s crimson eyes widened, and he scoffed in mock offense, snuggling in closer, his pouty lips brushing against Adam’s chest. "Why would I ever do that?"

Adam opened his mouth to respond, but his words were swallowed by a sharp yelp as Lucifer’s teasing escalated. The Nephilim raised his head, his lips trailing like whispers across Adam’s chin, nipping playfully before pressing a series of feather-light kisses down his throat. His long tongue flicked over the exposed skin, cool and soft, leaving a trail of shivers in its wake.

Adam’s body tensed, his pulse quickening under the tender assault, but somewhere deep inside him, beneath the rush of embarrassment and surprise, there was a warmth, a comfort in being so adored, so cherished. And even as his mind raced for words, for some semblance of control, his body relaxed instinctively, surrendering to Lucifer's affectionate embrace.

Adam’s breath hitched sharply in his throat, his eyes widening as Lucifer leaned over him, the weight of his presence suffocating yet intoxicating. Lucifer’s red and gold eyes gleamed with a light that seemed to steal the very air from Adam’s lungs, leaving him helpless under the godling's gaze. He hadn’t noticed before, but now, as the light shifted, Adam could see the soft feathers—red and white—sprouting amidst Lucifer’s golden hair, glistening with a divine glow.

“Adam~” Lucifer’s voice was a seductive melody, the sound wrapping around Adam like a caress.

He grinned wickedly, his tail rattling softly in delight. His eyes grew heavy-lidded, his cheeks flushed with an almost feverish warmth as he lowered his face closer to Adam's. The slow, deliberate movement sent shivers down Adam’s spine, and his lips parted in a soft, breathless whisper.

“W-What are you doing?” Adam managed to ask, his voice trembling with both anticipation and shyness.

Lucifer’s lips hovered a mere inch from Adam’s, and the godling released a soft, teasing whistle, his claws tracing up Adam’s throat in a slow, deliberate caress. His fingertips brushed against Adam’s cheeks, sending sparks of sensation through his skin.

“You’re my mate,” Lucifer murmured, his voice low and sultry, “And mates show their affection like this~”

Before Adam could fully process his words, Lucifer’s lips pressed gently against his. The warmth of the kiss was overwhelming, soft yet insistent, as Lucifer purred against him, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. He moved his lips tenderly against Adam’s, licking lightly at his bottom lip as if savouring the taste of his phoenix mate. The sensation was dizzying, and Adam’s heart raced wildly in his chest, his body trembling under the gentle onslaught.

Lucifer’s fingertips traced the faint specks of ash dusting Adam’s skin, lingering over them as if they were precious relics. As he broke the kiss, Lucifer’s lips trailed along Adam’s cheeks, pressing soft kisses to each speck as if worshiping the remnants of what Adam had once been. Adam’s breath stuttered, his body burning with the unexpected tenderness.

“Adam, you’re so cute~” Lucifer purred, his voice thick with affection.

He tilted his head, rubbing his cheek against Adam’s like a cat marking its territory, his skin warm and comforting. Adam felt the heady rush of Lucifer’s pheromones filling the air around them, a scent that made him feel simultaneously vulnerable and desired. Though Lucifer lacked a nose, he still buried his face in Adam’s throat, nuzzling against his pulse before inhaling deeply.

“And you smell so nice too~”

“That’s not possible,” he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. Adam made a face, his brow furrowing. “I failed in the rebirth... I don’t have any pheromones.”

Lucifer pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief and certainty.

“Oh, but you do~” he said with a grin, his lips quirking into a playful smirk. “You do. I can smell them, and they’re wonderful~ “

Lucifer licked his tongue along Adam’s cheek, dragging it towards his throat. A gasp escaped Adam as Lucifer’s mouth searched for his Omega glands. “Mingled with mine, it’s even better~”

Adam’s cheeks flushed crimson, his heart pounding at the thought. Lucifer’s words were laced with a dangerous kind of charm, one that made it hard to think clearly, let alone resist.

Lucifer's hands glided over Adam's body, his sharp, clawed fingers teasing at the fabric of Adam's worn shirt. Feathers, soft and delicate, shivered along his skull, slowly sprouting through the cascade of golden curls. With a mischievous smile, Lucifer pressed his face close, nuzzling against Adam, drenching him in his intoxicating scent with playful delight.

Adam gasped, his breath hitching as a sudden wave of dizzying heat flooded his senses. His entire body quivered, his breath shallow and ragged as warmth overwhelmed him. It was only made worse by Lucifer's much warmer body winding even tighter around him, the end of his serpentine form vibrating with soft, rumbling purrs.

“Adam~” Lucifer giggled, stretching luxuriously above the trembling Phoenix Omega. He took Adam's hand, guiding it gently to his cheek. “Do you like me? Don't you think I'm the perfect mate for you?”

Adam’s mouth opened and closed, unable to form a single word as steam, impossibly, began to rise from his flushed skin. He was completely lost, his thoughts a tangled mess. Just yesterday morning, he had resigned himself to the belief that he would never have a mate—that no one would ever find him worthy. After Lilith’s brutal rejection, he had been certain he would live, and die, alone. Yet here was Lucifer—a Nephilim—claiming to be his destined mate, his perfect match. Adam couldn’t even begin to process it all.

“Does my beauty leave you speechless?” Lucifer purred, his cheek, rosy and warm, pressing sweetly into Adam’s trembling hand, a soft, teasing coo escaping his lips.

Lucifer’s gaze softened as he looked down at Adam, his claws brushing gently along his jawline, tracing the delicate curve of his face. His voice, usually laced with mischief, carried a note of sincerity now, and the teasing grin faded into something more tender.

“I missed you; you know?” Lucifer whispered, his voice a soft murmur, his breath warm against Adam’s skin. He nestled closer, his body winding protectively around the Phoenix.

“I didn’t know it at first... but I’ve been searching for you for so long. I didn’t find anyone else in the Pentagram, no one, favourable.” He chuckled lightly, the sound rich and warm, vibrating through Adam’s body. "They were all too... predictable. But you—you're different."

Adam blinked, still trying to grasp the strange situation unfolding around him. His heart fluttered, an odd mix of disbelief and warmth swirling in his chest. He could feel Lucifer’s heartbeat against him, steady, reassuring.

“But... you’ve only just met me,” Adam managed, his voice a breathless whisper.

Lucifer’s eyes twinkled, his smile softening.

“I’ve known you longer than you think, Adam,” he said, pressing a kiss to Adam's temple, the light touch sending a shiver through Adam's body. "You may not remember, but I’ve been watching, waiting for you to be ready. My father, Quetzalcoatl, always insisted that his children venture into the Middle Realm to find their chosen mates. He believed there was something special about the creatures of Earth. Something... unique.”

He sighed softly, resting his forehead against Adam’s. “But I... I didn’t care about following in my siblings’ footsteps. I thought I was better off alone, that no one could be my equal.”

Adam, despite the overwhelming heat in his body and the fluttering in his stomach, found himself curious. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he listened intently. “So why did you change your mind? You didn’t want to come here... but you did.”

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration of Adam’s skin. “Gabriel, my brother... he was the last of my siblings to descend to Earth. He told me the creatures here had changed since our ancestors' time. That they were no longer simple beings... but something more, something mysterious. Something worth finding.” He paused, his lips curving into a soft smile. “And he was right. When I saw you, I knew. You are everything I’ve been waiting for. No one else compares.”

Adam’s breath hitched, his mind racing. “But... how? Why? I thought you’d see us as... monsters,” he asked, his voice shaky but laced with genuine curiosity. “Is it true? The legends of Quetzalcoatl?”

Lucifer chuckled softly, a deep rumble in his chest as he nuzzled closer, his forehead resting against Adam’s. “Most of what the Pentagram monsters believe... it’s true,” he murmured. “My father did indeed descend to the Middle Realm long ago. He saw something in humanity, something that the other realms could never understand. He believed in love, in connection. And he passed that down to us, his children. But the creatures of this world... you’re not monsters, Adam.”

His golden eyes sparkled with warmth as he tilted Adam’s chin up, their gazes locking. “You’re beautiful. Flawed, yes... but that’s what makes you so special. You make me feel something I didn’t think I was capable of.”

Adam’s heart raced, his cheeks flushed with both heat and affection. He had never imagined someone like Lucifer could exist, let alone choose him. And yet, here they were, tangled together in something that felt surreal, but at the same time, perfectly right.

Lucifer smiled, brushing a lock of hair from Adam's forehead, his voice dropping to a low, affectionate whisper.

"You're my perfect mate, Adam. My other half... the one I've waited for. And I’ll never let you go."

Adam’s chest swelled with a warmth he couldn’t quite explain, but for the first time in a long time, he felt wanted. Truly wanted. He leaned into Lucifer’s touch; his eyes fluttering shut as a soft sigh escaped him.

Lucifer’s smile widened, and there was a certain gleam in his golden eyes as he began to recount the story of his father. Adam, still cradled in his arms, listened closely, intrigued by the ancient history.

“My father, Quetzalcoatl, wasn’t just some deity overseeing the Middle Realm. He was a creator, a god who shaped this world with his own hands,” Lucifer began, his voice filled with reverence. “But it didn’t start peacefully. No, the world was born from conflict. My father’s brother, my uncle, Tezcatlipoca, wasn’t so fond of this place. The two of them fought fiercely, their power clashing until they caught hold of a monstrous creature, splitting it into pieces.”

Lucifer’s hands gestured dramatically, his feathers flaring out as he spoke, his enthusiasm contagious. “Those pieces became the earth and the sky. Quetzalcoatl took the land, the seas, the life, while Tezcatlipoca... well, he wanted nothing to do with it. He retreated to the underworld, far from the light and life that filled my father’s world.”

Adam’s breath hitched; his attention completely captured. “So Quetzalcoatl was the one who stayed? Who nurtured everything?”

Lucifer nodded, his fingers lightly caressing Adam’s arm. “Exactly. In the beginning, my father created the first humans—Steve and Eve. He wanted to see them thrive, to live in harmony in the paradise he had made. The garden they lived in had everything they could have ever wished for, a perfect world just for them.”

Adam's brows furrowed in thought. “Steve and Eve... I’ve read about them. They were supposed to be the first, right? The first humans.”

Lucifer nodded solemnly. “Yes, but my father didn’t expect humans to be so... fragile.” His voice lowered, tinged with sadness. “Eve was the first to fall. She ate a rotten apple, a fruit that had been tainted, and it poisoned her from the inside out. My father tried everything to save her, but it was too late. The disease had spread through her body, and she passed.”

Adam’s heart ached at the thought. “That’s awful... and Steve?”

Lucifer sighed deeply, his feathers trembling slightly as he continued. “Steve was heartbroken. My father thought of making him a new wife, but Steve... he couldn’t bear it. The grief overwhelmed him, and he threw himself from the highest cliff in the garden, choosing to follow Eve in death rather than live without her.”

Adam stared at Lucifer, his chest tightening. “I didn’t know... that’s not in the textbooks.”

Lucifer chuckled softly. “Not all stories are written down, Adam. Some are passed through whispers, through bloodlines.” He shifted closer, pressing his forehead gently against Adam’s, his breath warm on his skin.

“Humans turned out to be far more complicated than my father had expected. Fragile, yes, but dangerous too. They couldn’t survive alone, without guidance. So, my father decided that the next breed of life had to be stronger. More resilient, less susceptible to disease, hunger, or the whims of the weather.”

Adam’s eyes widened with curiosity. “How did he do that? How did he create something stronger?”

Lucifer’s smile returned, his pride in his father’s tale shining through. “He went to the underworld, where Tezcatlipoca resided. He carried the bones of Steve and Eve with him, determined to give life to something new, something better. At first, my uncle refused. Tezcatlipoca had always blamed Quetzalcoatl for creating life without reason, for being too sentimental. He believed everything my father made would eventually fail.”

Adam leaned forward, captivated. “But your father didn’t give up, did he?”

“No,” Lucifer replied, his voice brimming with excitement. “Quetzalcoatl challenged Tezcatlipoca. And despite all my uncle’s tricks and deceptions, my father won. He’s strong, Adam, stronger than anyone. Tezcatlipoca, in his defeat, showed my father something he had created in secret, emerald, green bones, pulsing with strength and power, far greater than anything in the Middle Realm. Those were the bones my father wanted to use to remake Steve and Eve.”

Adam blinked, awe filling his features. “Emerald bones... that’s incredible. So, Tezcatlipoca just... let him take them?”

Lucifer grinned widely, his eyes gleaming. “Not exactly. Tezcatlipoca never gave anything away freely. He agreed, but on one condition—there had to be a blood sacrifice. A tribute, made to him, from the creatures that would take over the new world.”

Adam’s breath caught in his throat. “Is that why there were... blood sacrifices every hundred years? Is that why those rituals existed?”

Lucifer shrugged casually, though his grin remained. “Blood is important to us. It’s the essence of life, the price for power. Even my father respects it, as much as he loves his creations. And Tezcatlipoca... well, blood was the only currency he ever valued.”

Adam sat back, trying to absorb the weight of it all. The myths, the legends, they were all so much more real than he had imagined. “I never knew... I didn’t realize the sacrifices were part of the deal.”

Lucifer chuckled, his fingers gently brushing through Adam’s hair as he nuzzled closer. “It’s all part of the balance, Adam. Life and death. Creation and destruction. My father understood that better than anyone.”

He paused, a warm, affectionate look crossing his face as he gazed down at Adam. “I’m proud of him, you know. Of his strength, his love. He fought for this world, for beings like you... and for beings like me.”

Adam swallowed hard, his heart thudding in his chest as he gazed up at Lucifer. There was so much love, so much reverence in the way Lucifer spoke of his father, and Adam could feel it radiating off him. It was infectious, drawing Adam closer into the warmth of Lucifer’s embrace.

Lucifer smiled, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Adam’s forehead. “And now you, Adam, you’re part of that incredible story now. My father’s legacy... it lives through you, too and our children.”

“Children?” Adam squawked, his eyes growing wide.

A laugh escaped Lucifer and wiggled his form up against Adam’s. His long slim arms sliding around Adam, pinning him to the bottom of the nest. His cherry-red lips shined as he brought them close to Adam’s.

“That’s right. Our children~” Lucifer cooed, his eyes growing dark and hungry. “I’m gonna fill you up! We’re going to have at least five litters~”

“What?” Adam gasped, shuddering as Lucifer rolled their hips together. “W-Wait – I’m – I can’t carry five litters!”

Nipping at Adam’s throat, Lucifer moaned softly. “Don’t worry. We’ll take turns.”

“Take turns?” Adam repeated with a brilliant blush spreading across his face. “What breed are you-“

A sudden knock on the door shattered the intimate moment between Adam and Lucifer. Adam froze, his entire body going rigid as his breath caught in his throat. Lucifer, however, merely glanced toward the door, his expression one of annoyance, his lips curling into a displeased pout.

"Who dares interrupt us?" Lucifer muttered irritably, his feathers ruffling with irritation.

From the other side of the door, a voice rang out, sultry and commanding. "Adam? It's Lilith. Open the door."

Lucifer’s frown deepened the instant he felt Adam’s reaction. His heart raced wildly, his skin flushing hotter, and a cold sweat broke across his forehead. Lucifer tilted his head, his sharp golden eyes narrowing at Adam.

“And who’s that?” he asked, his voice dripping with judgment.

Adam, suddenly panicking, leapt to his feet, throwing a frantic look at Lucifer. “Hide! You must hide, now!”

Lucifer blinked, completely caught off guard as Adam bundled him up within his arms and practically throw him inside the cupboard.  

“Adam, what—” he started, but before he could finish, he was unceremoniously thrown inside. He let out a startled yelp as he tumbled into the small, cramped space, landing in an ungraceful heap.

Rubbing his head, Lucifer pouted, glaring up at Adam through the cracks of the cupboard door as the Phoenix hurriedly explained. "You need to stay quiet, okay? Don’t make a sound, don’t come out, nothing. Lilith is dangerous, and if anyone finds out about you... I don’t know what’ll happen.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to protest, but Adam was already closing the door, leaving him trapped inside the dark cupboard.

Lucifer grumbled to himself, his pride bruised, but his curiosity piqued. He realized the wooden panels of the cupboard door could be tilted slightly, and he carefully adjusted them, allowing him to peer through the cracks. He watched, both irritated and confused, as Adam frantically straightened his clothes.

Adam caught sight of himself in the mirror, grimacing as he noticed the blood smeared across his body and his tattered clothing. Lucifer, unimpressed, could only roll his eyes as he watched Adam try to make himself look more presentable—though there was only so much that could be done.

Finally, Adam opened the door, and Lucifer’s feathers bristled in recognition. Standing there was an Alpha Jorōgumo, Lilith. She was tall, imposing, with an almost predatory grace. Without hesitation, Lilith pushed her way into the flat, her nose twitching as she immediately caught the scent of fresh blood hanging in the air.

Adam awkwardly closed the door behind her, but before he could say anything, Lilith spun around and grabbed his arm with surprising strength. Her eyes were sharp, glittering with suspicion.

“What happened?” she demanded, her voice sharp and biting. Adam flinched, unable to speak as Lilith’s grip tightened. “How did you get out of Quetzalcoatl’s temple? How weren’t you caught?”

Adam opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He could barely form a thought, let alone a coherent answer. Lilith’s questions came fast, firing off like bullets. “And how did you get back here? What’s going on? Are you not hurt?”

“Lilith, are you okay?” Adam finally managed to stammer, though his voice was shaky and strained.

Lilith ignored his question entirely, her eyes narrowing as she launched into a rant.

“The other Jorōgumo... we found them, scattered around the temple. Dead. Ripped apart and drained of blood.” Her voice dropped, her tone becoming almost curious, even impressed. “Whoever did it was strong. Impressive, really. The Jorōgumo are not easy to take down, let alone an entire herd.”

She paused, her sharp gaze finally flicking around Adam’s flat, taking in the sight of the blood splattered across the room. Her eyes lingered on Adam’s poor excuse for a nest, the telltale stains of blood within it. A slow smirk spread across her lips.

“At first, I thought it was your blood,” she murmured, her voice dark and low. “But no... the scent in here is too rich. It’s not just you. There’s the scent of multiple people... multiple bodies.”

Her eyes gleamed with a sinister hunger as she turned her gaze back to Adam, taking in the sight of him—dishevelled, covered in blood, and clearly panicking.

Adam’s stomach twisted in knots as he looked down at himself. He pulled at his clothes nervously, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not my blood...”

Lilith’s lips curled into a dangerous smile. “I know,” she purred, taking a slow, deliberate step toward him. Her eyes were dilated with want, her breathing shallow.

“It’s the blood of my clan. And you—” She closed the distance between them in a flash, pinning Adam to the wall, her body pressing against his. “You took them down, didn’t you?”

Adam’s face flushed with heat as Lilith’s breath brushed against his skin. He tried to squirm away, but her grip was firm.

“I... I didn’t do it,” he stammered, his heart racing in his chest.

Lilith wasn’t listening. Her eyes were glazed over with something dark and dangerous as she leaned in closer, her voice a low, seductive whisper.

“I’m impressed, Adam. I might even consider you as a mate.”

Adam’s heart skipped a beat, his panic rising as he tried to slip out from under her. “I didn’t do it!” he insisted, managing to duck out of her grip and back away. His eyes darted toward the cupboard, hoping Lucifer was staying hidden, though the situation was becoming more dangerous by the second.

But Lilith followed, her gaze predatory, never leaving him.

“Oh, don’t be modest,” she purred, her voice laced with amusement. “Who else could’ve taken down that many Jorōgumo? You’ve impressed me, Adam... and that’s not easy to do.”

Adam’s pulse quickened, his mind racing as he backed further into the flat. He needed to figure out a way to get her to leave before she realized just who, or what, was hiding inside his cupboard.

His thoughts were cut of when Lilith suddenly grabbed him. Her strong hands yanking him close and her face pushing into his throat, inhaling his scent sharply. His body prickled, his skin twitching and hairs standing up on. Adam’s eyes grow wide, and his mouth gapped.

“W-Wait, Lilith, you don’t understand-“

“You don’t smell of anything, but that’s alright.” Lilith said, running a hand down his back. She tilted her head back to look up at him with hooded, glassy eyes. “I’m going to fuck you, Adam. I’ll make you come so hard that you won’t be able to see straight. If I knew how strong you really were all this time, I would have bedded you like you wanted months ago.”

A laugh escaped her. Lilith opened her mouth, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Her spider fangs beginning to stretch out towards him. “Who knew. You just had to kill one of my sisters and I’d become all hot and bothered.”

“Lilith, wait-“

Lilith's fingers clamped around Adam's chin, her grip firm and possessive as she pulled him closer, her eyes dark and predatory. Their lips hovered dangerously close; her breath warm against his skin. Just as Adam’s heart raced in pure terror, sensing her venomous intent, a bone-rattling screech echoed through the room, so sharp and fierce it could have split the heavens.

Lucifer exploded from the cupboard with a roar that shook the very walls. His serpentine body unfurled with startling speed, scales glistening in the dim light. His six massive wings, glowing with an otherworldly power, burst from his back, filling the room with a blinding light as they unfurled.

In the blink of an eye, Lucifer was upon them, moving with the swiftness of a predator. His long, coiling form wrapped protectively and possessively around Adam, spiralling around his torso, shoulders, and head, his immense wings shielding the trembling Omega from Lilith's sight.

Lucifer's sharp teeth flashed dangerously as he hissed at Lilith, his entire being radiating fury.

"How dare you touch my mate!" he spat, his voice low and venomous.

Adam stumbled in the embrace of Lucifer’s coils, his hands instinctively reaching up to steady himself as the Nephilim's sinuous body wound tighter around him. His vision was blocked by Lucifer’s enormous wings, and he found himself clinging to the serpentine form just to keep from falling over.

Lilith gasped and stumbled backward; her eyes wide with shock. She had never seen anything like Lucifer before, and the sheer presence of his dark shadow, now growing monstrous and dragon-like, sent a shiver down her spine. She struggled to find words, but all she could do was stare at the terrifyingly beautiful creature before her.

"Adam is mine," Lucifer snarled, his eyes glowing like molten gold, filled with anger and protectiveness. "He belongs to me! No one—no one—is allowed to touch him, let alone mate with him, but me!"

His wings flared wider, and he loomed over Lilith, his entire body exuding a terrifying dominance. "Leave, or I’ll devour you, just as I devoured your precious Jorōgumo clan."

Lilith’s eyes flickered with fear as she stumbled back further, her confidence and seduction evaporating in the face of Lucifer’s raw, terrifying power. Without another word, she spun on her heel and hurried out of the flat, slamming the door behind her. Her presence disappeared as quickly as it had come.

Even after the door had clicked shut, Lucifer didn’t release Adam right away. His body remained coiled protectively around him, his wings still shrouding Adam from the world. He waited, eyes locked on the door, until he was certain Lilith had truly gone. Only then did he slowly unwind himself, but his anger still simmered just beneath the surface.

Lucifer turned on Adam, his eyes blazing with hurt and frustration.

"How dare you?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "How dare you even entertain the idea of mating with someone else when I’m here? How could you let her get that close to you?!"

Adam, still a little shaken, held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Lucifer, I—I wasn’t trying to! I didn’t want that," he stammered, trying to calm the furious Nephilim. "I don’t like Lilith like that. She’s an old friend from when we were kids."

Lucifer’s anger flickered, but it didn’t vanish. His golden eyes narrowed, his wings rustling restlessly behind him.

"She was all over you," he snapped, his jealousy clear in every word. "And you didn’t stop her."

Adam took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "Lilith isn’t interested in me that way, not really," he said gently. "She’s a Jorōgumo, Lucifer. She only wants strong, powerful mates, someone who’s worthy of her. And I’m... I’m not that."

The words made Lucifer’s expression darken with renewed frustration. His voice dropped to a near-growl. "Is that what you want, then? Do you wish she was interested in you? Would you rather have someone like her instead of me?"

Adam sighed softly and stepped closer, cupping Lucifer’s cheeks with both hands. The warmth of Adam’s touch stilled Lucifer’s angry energy, though the tension in his body remained.

"I used to wish she was," Adam admitted, his voice soft but honest. Lucifer’s whole body stiffened at the confession, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. But Adam wasn’t finished. "I thought if Lilith showed any interest in me, then maybe... maybe I wasn’t as hopeless as everyone said. That maybe I wouldn’t be alone forever."

Adam’s eyes softened as he continued. "But that was before... before I found you again."

He smiled, his heart swelling with emotion as he looked into Lucifer’s glowing eyes. "Before I felt you calling to me like you always have. And now that I know you’re real, that you’re here, I can’t imagine being with anyone but you."

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat, his golden eyes widening as Adam’s words sank in. For a moment, he was stunned into silence. Then, his anger melted away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming tenderness. His wings folded inward, brushing against Adam gently, protectively.

"Does this mean..." Lucifer began, his voice soft and almost shy for the first time, "you’ve accepted being my mate?"

Adam blushed deeply, his cheeks turning a soft pink as he averted his eyes for a moment, feeling bashful. But then he nodded, his gaze returning to Lucifer’s with absolute certainty.

"Yes," he said quietly but firmly. "I love you, Lucifer. I’ve always loved you. Even when everyone told me you weren’t real, I believed in you. And now that I know you are... I don’t want anyone else."

Lucifer’s entire face lit up with pure, unbridled joy. He smiled, wide and radiant, his wings shimmering with happiness as they gently curled around Adam once more.

"Adam..." he breathed, his voice full of love and wonder.

In that moment, all the tension, the jealousy, and the fear melted away. There was only them—two souls intertwined, finding each other again after so long. Lucifer leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against Adam’s forehead in the gentlest of kisses.

"You are mine, then," Lucifer whispered, his voice soft and filled with awe. "And I’m yours."

Adam blushed even deeper but smiled, resting his head against Lucifer’s chest, feeling the steady, warm rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Always," he whispered back, his arms wrapping around Lucifer’s serpentine form.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Adam felt whole.

[thewickedjazzy]

Artificial Paradise ➵MDNI ˎˊ˗

➵Pairing: fyodor x afab! reader.

➵Summary: fyodor helps you with your studies, but things start to get a bit heated between you two.

➵Tags and word count: 1.8k nsfw, minors dni, fluff, smut, soft dom! fyodor, teasing, explicit language, rough sex, gentle aftercare, light biting, praise, mutual desire.

➵A/N: @charkvc 's request, sorry pookie, i accidentally deleted the ask by mistake (｡･-･), but hyg, thank you for the sweet request i'm always down for fedya's big brain.

you sigh in frustration, rubbing your temples as you stare at the dense pages in front of you. how on earth are you supposed to write an entire analysis on hamlet in just one day? the play feels like trying to run a marathon in quicksand, and hamlet’s constant overanalyzing seems to stretch endlessly.

you notice your lover's presence in the room immediately, feeling his slender fingers gently resting on your shoulders. his touch is ever so gentle, soothing even as he begins to knead the tension away.

“fedya, how am i supposed to finish this?” you murmur, glancing back at the daunting stack of papers scattered across the desk.

his lips curve into a soft smirk that you can feel more than see. “you’re overthinking it, my love. hamlet is just like you—burdened by choices, unsure of the right path.” his fingers press into a knot in your shoulder, and you exhale in relief, the stress momentarily forgotten.

“you’re making it sound too easy,” you sigh.

he hums, lowering his lips closer to your ear, his warm breath brushing against your delicate skin. “let’s start with the basics. what does hamlet fear the most?”

“death?” you answer, almost instinctively.

“not quite.” he gently holds your arms from both sides, rubbing them softly. “it’s not death itself he fears… it’s the uncertainty. the unknown.”

you pause, your mind working to decipher his words while he continues to massage you, each touch making your skin tingle.

“he fears what comes after?” you murmur, leaning your head back to look up at him. he looks ethereal in his black half-sleeved turtleneck, his hair tied back in a low, messy ponytail, with a few strands softly framing his face and one resting between his eyebrows. his amethyst eyes, half-lidded, gaze tenderly over you.

he chuckles lightly, his soft tune ringing in your ears. “exactly. now, let’s use that. how does it relate to his indecision? and how does shakespeare weave that into the soliloquy you’re struggling with?”

“well, uh..” you mumble, feeling your mind finally beginning to understand the coded texts, “he’s caught between acting and inaction because… he doesn’t know what’s worse—suffering or the unknown suffering that may follow.”

fyodor smiles softly. “excellent my dear. now, why don’t we dig a little deeper into that?”

his hands move along yours as he leans slightly from behind, hovering over your seated form. slender fingers gently take hold of the pen between your fingers, while his other hand rests on your left shoulder. he guides the pen smoothly, highlighting a few key lines.

“let’s explore how this fear of the unknown impacts his decisions,” he says, “look at how shakespeare contrasts hamlet’s contemplation with his actions. the more hamlet fears the future, the more paralyzed he becomes. we see this tension play out in the soliloquy.”

you nod, trying to follow up with him as he writes 'action' and 'inaction' in a beautiful cursive handwriting. the connection between his fear and his hesitation starts to become clearer, and the analysis begins to take shape.

but as you work, you can't help but find yourself distracted by how close he is. the way his body leans against yours and how his expensive cologne filling your senses. you gaze at him, admiring how effortlessly beautiful he looks. his features seem almost ethereal, and you can’t help but think how perfect a kiss would feel right now, completely forgetting the assignment.

“you’re distracted,” he says suddenly, glancing up and catching your admiring gaze. “focus on the text, my love. we need to get this done before 7 pm tomorrow.”

you try to shake it off, your attention returning to the marked passages, but it’s futile. the way the soft candlelight flickers against his skin, the delicate curve of his lips, the slow rhythm of his breath—it’s too much. your heart flutters every time his fingers brush against yours, guiding the pen, and the assignment feels like a distant memory.

he notices that you’re still not responding to his questions, and his smirk returns, teasing yet knowing. “you’re still distracted,” he murmurs, his voice lower this time, more intimate. his eyes, a deep shade of amethyst, meet yours as he pauses his explanation, leaning in just a fraction closer.

you swallow, pulse quickening, your gaze drifting to his lips. screw the assignment, you think, as the temptation becomes unbearable.

“fedya...” you whisper, the sound barely escaping your lips as your hand moves instinctively to his cheek, pulling him gently toward you.

he doesn’t resist. in fact, his smirk widens, as if he knew all along that this moment was inevitable. his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you in as his lips press against yours—soft, warm, intoxicating.

the pen slips from your fingers, forgotten, as your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer. his other hand finds your waist, gripping you firmly. the world feels like it’s spinning, and all you can think is that you never want it to stop.

your hands clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer as if you’re trying to fuse your bodies together. the taste of his lips against yours makes your mind fuzzy. the soft brush of his tongue occasionally meeting yours in a sloppy slow kiss. you feel his fingers tightening around your waist, his other hand cupping your cheek, completely getting devoured by him.

the candlelight flickers casting erratic shadows on the walls, mirroring the rare intimate moment. your focus narrows to the sensation of him—his warmth, his taste, the way he clutches you as if you’re the only anchor in a storm.

he pulls back just slightly, his lips brushing yours as he pants softly, orbs completely dilated with lust. “milaya,” he murmurs, “this isn’t helping with your assignment.”

you laugh breathlessly, “i think… i think we’ve found a new way to procrastinate,”

he grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “well, at least you’re not distracted by the texts anymore.”

he smirks before gently closes the gap between you, cupping both sides of your face as he press his lips against yours again.

with ease, he lifts you and places you on your desk, the papers crumpling beneath you and pens tumbling to the floor. the fact that he rarely gets aroused like this only heightens your arousal.

you both share a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses, tongues exploring and breaths mingling in a heated exchange.

he slips his hands under your shirt, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head tossing it aside. he leans down, kissing a trail down to your breasts, humming in delight as he inhales your sweet scent—flowers mixed with a hint of fruity lotion—oh how he adores the way you smell.

his soft, wet kisses continue down your skin as he expertly unclipped your bra with on hand, while the other holds you closer to him, the warmth of your body presses against the cotton fabric of his turtleneck shirt.

you press your hips against his moving in tight circles that elicit deep groans from both of you.

his hand that was holding you tight slides down to tug at your pants, and you eagerly help him get it off of you.

“this needs to come off,” you say with a half-chuckle, gesturing toward his turtleneck.

“giving orders now, milaya?” he replies, a teasing smile on his lips as he lifts the shirt over his head, revealing his pale, perfectly soft sculpted body. unable to resist, you lean in, kissing and licking along his chest and neck, your warm breaths brushing against his skin. soft mewls escape his lips as you explore every inch of him.

taking his time, he slowly removes the rest of your clothes, revealing your bare skin to him. soon, both of you are completely naked, your bodies molded together as you share another heated kiss. the warmth of your skin against his makes him harder every passing second that he thinks he might just cum from just being this close to you.

you feel his hands glide teasingly over your drooling cunt before he chuckles and pulls away slightly. "oh my love, look at you— hardly need my preparation"

before you can utter a word, he swiftly lifts you by your ass, sliding you along the desk and sending the remaining papers cascading to the floor. at this point, you hardly notice. he carries you to your shared bed beside the desk and sits down, pulling you to straddle his lap.

"my lovely darling, are you going to take your pleasure and ride me?" he murmurs against your lips and you whine softly humming in response.

his slender fingers guide your hips to grind against him as soft mewls escape your lips burying your face into the prominent crook of his neck.

you lift your hips to guide his tip into your slick entrance. even though he slips in easily, your walls stretch around him, yearning for the fullness you haven't felt in nearly two months.

sweet sweet soft moans escapes his lips, as your legs tremble trying to hold yourself up, only to sink down more on his cock. he spreads your ass cheeks with both hands helping you slide down on him easier.

you pull your head away from his neck, only to see the blissful sight before you—his eyebrows furrowed, eyes tightly shut, and jaw slack. as you quicken your pace, your moans blend with his soft mewls, and you both glisten with sweat while you bounce up and down on him.

"ngh- moya lyubov, let me hear your sweet voice," he murmurs, "ah- I missed you so much, milaya," his soft moans—oh those lovely soft moans, how he mumbles in his native tongue when he's too spent.

he starts thrusting up into you as you bury your face again but now into his chest, moaning against his skin feeling his cock twitch and pulsate before a sharp groan leaves his mouth.

his thrusts quicken, each one leaving you breathless for a moment before the next one knocks the air from your lungs again, your body rendered completely paralyzed by the picked up pace, his tip brushes against your g-spot repeatedly, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body.

then you feel the familiar heat coiling in the pit of your stomach, your ears growing muffled by the sound of your heartbeat. "fed-yyaa i- i'm coming aahh-"

you can’t help but grind against him, striving to keep pace, feeling him twitch inside you before he shoots thick streams filling you completely, throwing his head back with a deep moan. "bozhe! chert voz'mi da da" (translation: jesus! fuck yes yes)

he collapses back against the sheets, trying to catch his breath. you slide off him and join him, stretching your arms before resting your chin on his chest.

“you look so hot with your hair in a ponytail like that,” you say, biting your lower lip to stifle a teasing giggle.

“ah, it has grown a little indeed... I’m thinking about trimming it down a bit.”

you lightly hit his hand, exclaiming, “don’t you dare!!!”

he giggles, pulling you closer to place gentle kisses on your hairline. “anything for you, milaya.”