#and then they did debauched things to each other

[cute-little-crow]

Based on a request by 💌 anon on how Sylus might react if he finds out you’re ovulating…

tw: female reader, talk of ovulation, implied breeding kink, Sylus has a strong reaction to the news, mention of birth control, NSFW throughout but part two will be worse 😈

Part Two

Fragrant water sloshed over the edge of the tub, your skin slippery from the concoction of essential oils added earlier in the hope of relieving your aches and pains. Your hand slid against your body, glossing over hardened nipples and dipping past your navel towards the dull, throbbing ache between your legs.

Your eyes remained stubbornly closed, thoughts of the debauched nature swirling in a vortex of crimson and obsidian feathers. God, you wished you could admit everything to him… admit that you were struggling, but it wouldn’t be fair to press your burdens onto Sylus.

That was why you had avoided him as much as you could. Why you had dodged the touches he tried to brush against your skin, worried that one touch alone would be enough to give the game away. That he would know from the blazing heat of your skin that things were not as they seemed.

You knew it bothered him, not that he had said anything on the subject, but it was only a matter of time. Sylus was not one to be denied.

As if summoned by thought alone, a sharp knock punctuated your daydreaming. Sinking lower into the tub until your chin hit the waterline, you listened as the low rumble of Sylus’s voice drifted through the door.

“Can I come in, sweetie?”

A tiny part of you wanted to refuse him, but that would be cruel, and cruelty was not a part of your nature, not even in your current state.

Vermillion eyes locked with yours, curious and if you weren’t mistaken, concerned. Sylus sat on the edge of the bath, his back resting on the ceramic tiles whilst he cocked his head and let out a weary breath.

“For a minute, I didn’t think you would let me in,” he admitted whilst carefully rolling the sleeves of his shirt to the elbows. “You’ve been avoiding me, kitten, why?”

You glanced off to the side, heat warmed your cheeks at the accusation. How did you tell him that it was for his own good? He didn’t need you distracting him unnecessarily with wants that made you blush and squirm with embarrassment.

Splash…

His strong hand plunged into the steaming water and wrapped around your ankle. He thumbed across your ankle bone delicately, long fingers splayed around your heel and towards your arch.

“Talk to me.”

The words were followed up with a squeeze of his hand, eliciting a moan that you couldn’t suppress. The corner of Sylus’s mouth twitched upward into a subtle smile, his grasp loosening to run the length of your calf.

“Sylus… I—it doesn’t matter. I’ll be okay, in a few days I’ll be back to my old self.”

“A few days? Nuh-uh, sweetie… I am not prepared to wait so long and I am certainly not willingly to have you continue to avoid me. What’s wrong? Are you sick?” He asked, brow furrowed and the first tendrils of his power leaked out to wash over you.

The power called to your own, entwined around each other in a lovers embrace, twisting and writhing. You weren’t sure if he felt it too, though if you were more present of mind you might have noticed how his breathing had turned shallow and his fingers had stopped massaging calf.

You licked over your parched lips. Gaze low-lidded as desire overrode your previous reservations.

“I’m… can you not look at me like that whilst I tell you this? It’s not helping.”

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re going to devour me whole.”

Sylus huffed a laugh. “I just might, but fine. I’ll close my eyes, how about that?”

He was so handsome and that was certainly a large part of the problem. You’d lost count to the number of times you had fantasised about him soothing the ache in your belly. A large palm pressed against your soft belly whilst he thrust into your hot, wet cunt. His silver hair tickling your shoulder as he marked the skin of your neck, blowing cool air across the blooming bruises. Filling you up over and over until sleep took you hostage and you could happily drown in the fatigue of overused muscles.

“I’m ovulating,” you finally conceded, rushing on to explain. “It makes me feel needy. My body is hypersensitive. I’m prone to my emotions getting the better of me. Picking fights over nothing. Letting jealousy win. It’s a lot and I’m trying not to let it affect you…”

There was a weighty silence, filled only with the gentle sway of the water, and then it was broken.

“Ovulating. You’re… shit—well, that explains a thing or two.”

His eyes were positively glowing. His jaw set into an expression of pure agony. If looks could inflict damage you knew you’d be bloody beneath his dangerous maw.

Sylus was pure predator and you were the only prey he ever wanted to both consume and protect.

“Soft or rough?”

The question didn’t make sense and you frowned in confusion, nose wrinkled.

He answered by submerging his arm into the tub, right between your legs. Not even your attempt at closing your knees together would hinder his progress, not until he cupped your sex.

“I am giving you a choice,” he grit out, jaw flexing, “on how the next few hours are going to go. Either way, you will be asleep in my arms and content by the time I’m finished.”

“Oh, Sylus~”

Sylus groaned. His middle finger rubbed along your slit swollen with heat and desire, dipping through the hot flesh like a knife through butter.

“Don’t. Don’t say my name like that or I’ll make the decision for you,” he warned.

Saliva filled your mouth, runny and hot. “Rough,” you purred, letting your pussy answer for you. “But Sylus… I’m not on birth control right now.”

Sylus, who had started to rise to his feet with his arm dripping and his shirt sleeve dark with water, paused. He turned his gaze on you once more and your spine arched off the porcelain tub, nipples peaked and swollen emerged from the fragrant water.

“Stop talking, princess. I’m already a hair away from plucking you from the water and taking you on the bathroom floor like a dog.”

He strode for the door, ripping it open with such force that you shuddered.

“Five minutes. You have five minutes to get out and get onto all fours on our bed. I want to see my pretty pussy glistening and ready for me… maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you, if you’re lucky.”

You asked for rough… you were going to get it.

an: part two coming soon… dividers by @/roseschoices

[buckyalpine]

Cheating Steve x reader, Steve x Sharon, Bucky x reader

How Bucky and reader get together

Warnings: angst, cheating, smut, Steve regrets his choices, Bucky is the sweetest, fluffff

-

Steve knew.

Not that it was surprising at this point.

What more could he expect after you walked in on him and Sharon months ago. It was never supposed to happen but he gave into the heat of the moment. He didn't have the excuse of being drunk or drugged. He was stone cold sober. No stressful mission increasing his stress.

Maybe you agreed to try and work things out but he knew from the heartbreak in your eyes and their void of warmth, the hurt was too deep.

And yet still.

He didn’t realize just how badly that hurt would be until he experienced it himself. He didn't even see it but could hear it and damn his enhanced hearing, he could hear every detail.

There was no loud banging.

No over the top, obnoxious moaning.

No spews of filthy words exchanged.

Which is why this hurt so much more.

Because it was real.

This wasn't about revenge or getting back at him for what he'd done to you. They had no idea Steve would be back so early. They had no idea he'd be standing outside, hearing everything. Steve stood outside of Bucky's bedroom, the flowers he held in his hand crushed, staying rooted in place, nostrils flared, eyes squeezed shut.

Bucky was making the softest sweetest most tender love to you and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He could hear the faint creak of the bed.

Your soft whines and whimpers.

Bucky's low moans and heavy breaths.

He was taking all his time in the world to touch you gently, making you feel good while also giving you all the pleasure he possibly could.

“You’re so pretty doll” It was just a whisper, but Steve heard it. He hated the mental images that came up in his mind each time you moaned a bit louder or the sounds of wet skin carried through the door. "My pretty girl"

Maybe it was a good thing he couldn't see. Because if he did, Steve would've seen the way Bucky's hand stroked your hair softly with each thrust. The way he looked at you with nothing but love. His lips kissing every bit of your face, nuzzling himself into your neck while his hands pinned you under him.

Steve would've seen the debauched mess on the sheets, messy and sticky with your mixed arousal that had been leaking out of you, the both of you unable to keep your hands off each other. He would've seen your legs tightly wrapped around his best friends waist while his cock stretched you open, his much larger body shielding you.

Steve wouldn't have been able to handle the way your eyes were glassy, tears slipping down your cheeks from how good it felt, both emotionally and physically. He would've hated seeing how blissed out you looked, eyes unable to focus, jaw slack each time Bucky pushed himself deeper, grinding his hips into you. You couldn't possibly be any closer and it still felt like it wasn't enough.

Steve would've lost his mind, seeing the way your both desperately clung onto each other, meeting each others thrusts, Bucky's thick arms moving from your hands to wrap around your body instead. He held onto you tightly, his pace faltering and Steve knew. He could hear the increase in breaths, the stutter of his movements making the bed creak irregularly, fuck he didn't want to hear this shit anymore but he couldn't move.

"I'm gonna cum baby"

Fuck.

"Cum in me Bucky"

No. He wouldn't.

It wasn't like he could stop it. Steve gritted his teeth hearing your muffled moans, it should've been him. It should've been you in his room, him making love to you, him making you feel good, him filling you up till you dripped onto his sheets, him desperately moaning and feeling good with you.

"M'gonna cum, m'cumming for you doll, hnngg" God, his best friend sounded so desperate and broken but Bucky would never, he wouldn't, he couldn't, he- "Fuckkk y/n, feels so good, cumming so much for you. Take it all, sweet girl"

Fuck.

He wouldn't have handled seeing the way Bucky's muscles tensed, burying his face into your neck, your teeth digging into his shoulder while he rutted into you, cock swelling and throbbing ropes of cum into you while you convulsed around him.

FUCK.

“I love you my doll”

No. She's not fucking yours.

God how he wished it was one sided, that you’d just moan in response. That you were just using Bucky as a rebound with no actual feelings. Steve knew you didn’t say those words in vain, you wouldn’t say it back, not unless-

“I love you too James”

Steve was going to burst through the door until a voice chirped behind him, tapping his shoulder, pulling him from his spiral.

"Those for me?" Sharon blushed, pointing to the now half destroyed roses Steve held, pulling his shoulder away from her.

"No" Steve's jaw clenched, shoving her touch away, his irritation growing when Sharon followed him down the hall.

"Don't tell me you're still thinking about that stupid bi-"

"DON'T" Steve turned back and glared at her, clenching his fists before he did something stupid, "Just- don't"

"All high and mighty now, are we?" Sharon spat while he shook his head, wishing she'd leave. "Y'know they've been sleeping together behind your back the entire time you were gone away for the mission. And you're still hung up on her? Now she's the one cheating on you"

Cheating. Was it cheating? He was never able to mend your heart after he broke it. He tried. He tried so hard.

"Doesn't matter" Steve replied while Sharon huffed, daring to follow him into his room.

"We only hooked up once. She's been fucking you're best friend ever since and you still want her back?"

"I fucked up first Sharon" Steve gritted but the blonde rolled her eyes in response. "It was my mistake that led to this"

"Mistake" She shook her head in disbelief, biting her bottom lip staring at the broken Captain in front of her, "So what we did was just a mistake?"

"Worst one I've ever made" Steve nodded, not bothering to look back when Sharon stormed off, the sound of Bucky's bedroom door opening making his ears perk up. He threw the flowers he brought for you to the side while he heard your soft footsteps approaching, his stomach churning when you appeared at his door.

You blinked, surprised at the sight of Steve sitting at the edge of his bed, a crushed bouquet of flowers sitting on the dresser while he was still in his tac uniform. Your heart was pounding, he wasn't supposed to be back until next week.

"You're back early" You kept your voice steady, hoping he wouldn't notice anything askew.

But you knew. There was no way he didn't hear. Even if he didn't, your hair was tousled, skin warm, you smelled of sex, smelled of Bucky. There was no hiding it; the Captain looking up at you with watery eyes, the tears threatening to slip they landed on your disheveled form..

"Does he make you happy?"

You swallowed before nodding, while Steve gave you a tight lipped smile in return. He didn't say anything else, a silent way of him letting you go, hanging his head when you turned back around, going back to the one who now had your heart.

He wished he had it in him to feel happy for you both. You deserved happiness and Bucky would've never done what he did. He closed his eyes at the sound of your happy giggles and squeals of laughter, Bucky's following right after before the door shut again, leaving Steve alone in his room.

He'd better get used to it.

[ventique18]

~ Thoughtless ~

Somehow you feel it. Maybe you're just letting things get to your head, but maybe. Just maybe.

Malleus is in love with you.

How can you not think that, when he comes by to see you almost everyday, or when he sometimes finds himself thoughtlessly tucking a stray hair away from your face. When his hands would naturally find their way to rest on your hip while you're busy baking something, and he would curiously watch from behind?

So when he carelessly lays his head on your lap one lazy afternoon, you find yourself blurting out "I think I'm in love with you." Just as naturally as is his intimacy is towards you.

He doesn't speak. Doesn't even laugh. He just thoughtlessly pulls you down and, clumsy and mismatched as they are, lets your lips wordlessly do the talking.

You're over the moon. How could you not be, when a person you thought was beyond your reach is hopelessly in love with you just as you are with him? You'll be spending your time as a couple from now on. Going on romantic dates together, greeting each other first thing in the morning, getting to know each other in a much, much more familiar depth. Maybe even considering... marriage.

There's an infinite things that you want to do with him. So many things that make you happy. You're happy.

... Until...

"I wonder what bouquet my betrothed prefers for our coming wedding?"

You overhear him as he strolls with Lilia.

Betrothed? As in, someone you promised to marry? He did say wedding.

What the hell.

He's already engaged to someone? And he still kissed you so passionately like that? All along, he was already meant to marry somebody else while he's fooling around touching you here and there, kissing you and pecking you and hugging you and... Is that why he didn't say he loved you when you confessed? He's just leading you on because he's bored?

That son of a--

Tears. Ugly tears. You scream furiously and cry miserably as you strangle and punt and wrangle your poor pillow at Ramshackle. Your best friends watch silently while they try to coax you with your favorite food and your favorite zero-substance comedy film. It works. Your mood lightens.

Until they go home, and he barges into your home with grin you wanted to sucker-punch off his ugly, cheating, demonic, monstrosity of a lying face.

"Why are you here?" You spit out.

His thick, slimy skin couldn't taste the venom in your words.

"Good evening," he giddily greets as he walks over to you-- almost prancing for god's sake, "I was wondering. What type of flowers do you like?"

"The hell are you on about? You think you can keep stringing me around? I'll fuck you up."

"Careful. I am exercising a deep self-restraint out of respect for you. But if you keep playing with me like this, telling jokes about 'fucking me'-- as people say nowadays-- I might truly end up debauching the sanctity of marriage."

You leer at him. What the hell is he yapping about?

"Fuck?"

He sits on the sofa beside you; as graceful as he always seems to be. No, actually. He sits as ugly as a bridge troll. "I see you are impatient. Truth be told, I am too. But we best wait until after graduation, at least. So before then, I would like to ask: what flowers would you prefer for our wedding? I rather wish to grow them myself."

"Our wed--"

And it clicks in your head.

'My betrothed.'

'What flowers would you like?'

'Our wedding.'

It's you. The betrothed is you.

You almost laugh out loud. Out of the silliness of it all, out of embarrassment perhaps, even out of relief. This guy. God, this guy. What a careless, thoughtless, whimsical, nonsensical, brainless guy. But somehow,

"I like wisteria."

It's just, so naturally, him.

"The flowers in full bloom when we first met."

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Bouncer Ghost blurb

Just thought about Ghost as a bouncer

Thinking about how you and your friends would go to the pub/club he’s working at, the large man catching your eye and keeping your attention the second you spot him at the entrance

Bouncer!ghost is big, shoulders broad, towering over everyone, has biceps bulging even through his hoodie as he has arms crossed somehow leisurely over his chest, hands big as paws wrapped around those thick arms, the face-covering and hood pulled up making him no less intimidating

For some reason, bouncer!ghost would have you nervously fishing out your ID, fingers tapping against your upper thigh as his darks eyes flickers from your face and down to your photo

A grunt would be the only thing preceding bouncer!ghost’s eyes falling to yours before he hands your ID back again, and you wouldn’t be able to contain the shiver running down your spine as he cocks his head backwards, directing your group inwards as he retake his previous position

Bouncer!ghost would not leave your mind, no matter your friends trying to entice you with the guys scattered around the place, the memory of the huge man making you scrunch your nose at whoever they pointed towards

Each time you glanced around the space, you would drag out the moment when you looked in the direction of the entrance, indulging in how you could watch bouncer!ghost through the window

And as if the universe hears your debauched thoughts about the man, your friend excuses herself to go for a smoke, an opportunity that you jump at quickly enough your friends are almost shocked

You don’t smoke, yet still you exit the building with your friend, something in your chest fluttering as bouncer!ghost’s gaze meet yours briefly, enough for you to give him a small smile as a formal greeting much like your friend did just second earlier, before moving past him and to the arranged smoking area

With bouncer!ghost in your close vicinity again, the drinks you’ve had suddenly feels a lot stronger as you giggle along with your friend as she lights a cig

As someone else asks your friends for a lighter, you advert your eyes to bouncer!ghost, appreciating the view he offers at the entrance as he talks to two guys who even they need to look up at him, god he’s just so big

You would return back inside with nearly dragging feet once your friend is done, having no reason to remain, but your chest flutters a last time as bouncer!ghost spots you nearing and hauls the door open for you

Your smile would be much timider this time around at his action despite telling yourself it’s nothing but custom, yet as you enter first and look back to talk with your friend, your eyes move over her shoulder to meet the brown ones looking after the two of you, feeding your delusion that maybe, maybe there was another reason behind bouncer!ghost’s action

Less than thirty minutes later, without your friend this time, you excuse yourself from your group, needing some fresh air

You don’t even know why you did it, the air not much fresher due the smokers scattered in the caged-in part of the sidewalk outside the building, or yes you did, your eyes flitting and briefly meeting bouncer!ghost’s as he notes your presence as you angle your body to pass him despite the lack of queue to enter

You exhale heavily once you lean against the building’s facade, stone digging into your back, the smell of smoke less potent with much fewer smokers huddled in the area compared to earlier

You try to make your glance around smooth, but when you look to the left, your eyes briefly connect with the pair of brown eyes already upon you

Something about bouncer!ghost makes a warmth erupt in your body and your attention to hastily flicker away, instinctually to the ground before you catch yourself and try to look to the side at the other people catching a break form the stuffy air inside

“Forgot your fag?” The slightly muffled but clearly deep voice catches you off guard, eyes widening as your attention is pulled to the side, bouncer!ghost now having his mask rolled to the bridg of his nose, cigarette currently being lightened between his lips

“M’no”, you answer makes his eyes flicker side-ways to eye you, releasing a deep exhale of smoke into the air as he drops his hand, pocketing the lighter

“Didn’t think I saw one earlier”, he says before taking another inhale, directing his eyes forwards before surveying the immediate area

“What?”

“Ya didn’t have a smoke earlier, only your friend”. Were you shocked he’d noticed? Yes, you were, as you hadn’t noticed him paying as much attention to you as you’d done him.

“No, not a fan”, you explained.

“Why you here then, ain’t much fresh air?” Did you imagine the tug in his lips? No, the same cockiness making his sentence sound more like a statement than question was evident in his eyes when he looked at you.

It made you mouth fall open, before you pressed your lips together and you gave him a shrug, adverting your eyes.

Through the corner of your eye, you noticed how he crushed the remaining cigarette beneath his booth with a confident grind of his foot, suggesting your lack of answer was enough for him to know why. If he didn’t already.

“Think that’s enough air for now”, you excused yourself at the realisation, hearing a gruff sounding chuckle follow your informal end to your joint presence.

“Know where to find me”. Your head snapped upwards towards him as you turned to move to the entrance, effectively also towards him. His eyes hints at his amusement instead of a smirk as he now had pulled down his mask, but you knew the same quirk of his lips as earlier was hidden beneath it.

You couldn’t help how your eyes widened when he gave you a wink upon having caught your attention, nor how your body set alight as he stepped in front of you, making you look up at him, as he opens the door for you again

Bouncer!ghost would notch his head forward to look at you, and if he didn’t square his shoulders and grow another inch in satisfaction when he saw your flustered state

It felt like you had a searing heat in the back of your head the rest of the evening, your friends not helping as they pestered you about the interaction they’d seen

And those very friends would be the ones who pushed you towards bouncer!ghost when you wrapped up your stay to head to the next place

“Asking me on the clock?” You could bet one of his brows raised beneath that mask of his if his cocky tone was anything to go by when you stepped up to him, your friends not too far away down the street.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes despite the wavering flutter in your chest at the prospect of having bouncer!ghost reject your advance. “Can just say no and tell me to fuck off”.

The bite in you tone after a few more drinks, not nearly to make you drunk but enough to loosen your nerves, apparently amuses bouncer!ghost as he chuckles deeply and takes your phone from you, the device comically smaller in his hands than yours the brief moment he taps the screen. He hands it back locked and with the edge pinched between his forefinger and thumb, so nonchalant in his action.

“Ask your friend to take a picture if you end up on the curb”, it’s mocking, but not mean, having you shoot him a deadpan look that don’t last long as your friends squeals makes your break into a grin.

[munsonslove]

Making Deals

(18+ only)

(part 2) •  (part 3)

summary: Your friendship with Eddie has always been give and take. He drives you somewhere so you make out with him, he pays for lunch so you let him give you a hickey. It had always been over the clothes, until one day he decided to up the ante.

wordcount: 3.4k

tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, softdom!perv!eddie, friends to lovers, smut, praise kink (good girl), degradation (use of slut & whore), use of pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart), thigh riding, no use of y/n

a/n: this might be a little rushed cause i really wanted to get this out tonight, specifically so that i could say that it’s my BIRTHDAY which means you legally have to say nice things to me. anyway i’m gonna go get drunk with friends now, enjoy!

Most of your friends assume you two are fucking. It’s understandable, given how Eddie speaks to you. Every conversation is an opportunity for innuendo. The two of you live inside your own little world, and what the people outside of that bubble don’t know is that it’s all a game. Every sly comment, wink, brush of the hand, and “trade off” is him daring you to give in. And although he definitely already knows the effect he has on you, if you were to admit how much you want him it would be forfeiting. So your friendship became a game of cat and mouse, always one-upping each other, always teetering on the edge of something more but never really crossing that line.

No one would believe that you and Eddie were just friends if they knew about what went on behind closed doors. Your friendship had accidentally become a series of give and take. Every time you want something from him- be it free drugs, borrowing something, a ride, a favor, etc.- he would request something in return. That ‘something’ is more often than not perverted. In the beginning, he would ask for innocent things, like kisses on cheeks or hugs, but since growing older (and hornier) his requests became much more debauched. Chaste pecks turned into timed make out sessions, or giving you a hickey, or starting a collection of your bras. One time he even wanted to spit in your mouth, and the memory of feeling his saliva violently hit the back of your throat as he stood towering over you still haunts you in the middle of the night when your hand is between your thighs. You started asking for things from Eddie that you didn’t even really want, all for the sole purpose of having an excuse to do something lewd with him.

That’s how you found yourself here, in the living room of Eddie’s trailer, holding up some random tape you took from his bedroom that you didn’t even read the name of, bargaining about what you’ll have to do to borrow it for the weekend. You expected the basic ‘make out with me for twenty minutes’ or ‘let me feel you up over your shirt’, but to your surprise, he took it a step further this time.

“You want me to do what?” you exclaimed, not believing what you heard.

“Show me your tits,” he says with a wave of his hand, like this was a completely normal request, as if he did nothing more than ask you to pass him a plate during dinner.

Sure, you had done a lot of sexual things with him in the past, but it all included having your clothes still on. Just the thought of disrobing yourself in front of Eddie had your mouth watering.

“Are you serious?” you ask, trying as best as you can to keep your face neutral and not betray how turned on the mere suggestion had you.

“As a heart attack,” he answered.

“That’s pretty expensive, just for a little tape,” you counter. “That’s like… ‘I want to borrow the van’ prices.”

He shrugs. “Well, the market’s changing sweetheart. Costs are going up.”

Feigning boldness, you drop the tape onto the couch and cross your arms in front of your torso before untucking your oversized t-shirt from your skirt and lifting it over your head, tossing onto him. It lands covering his head, and he quickly scrambles to remove the garment, not wanting to miss a second of the show. Underneath was a light blue cotton sports bra. It wasn’t the sexiest, but that didn’t stop the boy in front of you from wolf-whistling, bringing a light blush to your cheeks. Taking one final deep breath for confidence, you pull the remaining fabric off of you.

Holding the bra in one hand, now bare from the waist up, you bend over to pick back up the tape and smirk when you notice Eddie’s awestruck gaze locked onto your naked chest. Slipping the cassette into your bag hanging from the door handle, you move to redress yourself, but are abruptly stopped.

“Wait!” Eddie calls out frantically.

“A deals a deal,” you complain while rolling your eyes. “You had your show, feel lucky I actually took my top off instead of doing a quick little flash.”

“What do you want for me to touch them?” he asks, completely ignoring your previous statement.

This takes you completely by surprise. “Wh- what?” you stutter out.

He’d never initiated before, it was always you asking for a favor and him telling you what he wanted. On top of that, he always had a nonchalant air about him when he made these deals, like he couldn’t care less whether or not you let him bruise up your neck with his teeth. This eagerness wasn’t just rare, it was unheard of. And you feel a sense of pride when you wonder if this meant you had finally had the upper hand, at least for tonight.

“You heard me,” he responds, his eyes never leaving your body. He sticks out his tongue to wet his lips, and the action has you suddenly forgetting all about your want to be in control. “Whatever it is, name your price.”

“Um…” you start, thinking through all the possibilities. Truthfully, there wasn’t much more you wanted from your friend other than for him to mercilessly ravish you, but you couldn’t very well tell him that while remaining indifferent. So instead, you rake your brain trying to come up with anything that would seem like a semi-fair trade. “You have to be available to give me rides at any time for the rest of the week. And,” you interject, pointing your finger in his face directly between his eyes, “You have to let me play my music. Whatever I want, no complaining.”

“Mhm, for sure,” he mumbles, still distracted by your partial nudity. The fact he didn’t raise his brows and make a comment about how he’ll ‘give you a ride anytime you want, princess’ lets you know just how in deep he truly is. You suspect he would have agreed to anything.

“Ten minutes,” you add, as this was usually the point in which you two would work out the specifics of the deal. How long, what was off limits, that kind of thing.

“Thirty minutes,” he negotiates.

You’d let him feel you up for hours, if you were being honest with yourself. Imagining his calloused fingertips gliding against the soft supple flesh of your chest makes your thighs involuntarily squeeze together, but you refuse to let how desperate you are for him show. “Twenty,” you supply, and he seems pleased enough with this compromise.

He forgoes answering you aloud, and instead nods his head rapidly while raising his hands into the air and making grabby motions like a child. Stifling your laugh, you glance behind you to the wall clock and take note of the time.

“Okay, it’s 6:15 now,” you begin, “So when the big hand’s on the seven, your time is up.”

“Yup, uh huh, got it,” he says.

You hesitate for a moment until he gestures you over to himself, and you square your shoulders before taking a seat on his lap. Your skirt flares out as you perch yourself on top of him, and your legs are puzzle-pieced together with one of his thighs in between the both of yours. His hands tickle your side as they slowly trail up your waist, before settling just under the fat of your breasts. Holding your breath, you brace yourself for him to make his next move, and swallow a moan when his nails scratch up your skin, his fingers moving on either side of your nipples.

He massages your chest slowly, taking his time to savor the moment. After a while, his palms catch on your erect nipples, causing you to gasp, and his hands briefly lose contact so he can take them between his fingertips. He rubs the nubs between his thumb and index finger until you can no longer hold in any sounds and are a moaning mess.

“You like that, huh? You like me touching you like this?” he asks, though you can tell from his tone he doesn’t expect an answer. “God, you look good like this, tits out and sat on my lap. I can feel how warm you’re getting on my thigh, are you turned on baby?”

You ignore him. He already knows how wet he’s making you, so there’s no use in admitting it and making his head any bigger.

“Hey,” he whispers with a smirk, “For all the rules we like to come up with during our private time, we never actually said I could only touch you with my hands.”

Your eyes open and nearly bulge out of your head. “W- we didn’t?” The implications of his statement has your mind racing as your breathing stops in anticipation of his next moves.

“We didn’t,” he confirms, “and kissing is really just touching with your lips, wouldn’t you say?”

Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you try your best to fake like you aren’t as affected as you are and feel his hands slip away from you as you shrug your shoulders stiffly. “I guess it is,” you mumble after swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth.

The gasp that escapes you when his pillowy lips first make contact with your perky nipple is impossible to resist. His masterful fingers stay massaging your left breast, while his mouth gives its full attention to your right. The gentle kitten licks he gives you just barely graze over the erect nub and you bite back a pathetic whine.

“E- Eds,” you breathe out with as much dignity as you can muster, “Don’t tease.”

“Aw, but you like it when I tease you,” he accuses, and you hate how much he’s right. “I can see it all over your face, I can see you squeezing your thighs together. Such a needy whore for me.”

You make a futile attempt to hide your embarrassment by covering your face, but Eddie is fast to pin your hands together behind your back, as if he knew what you were going to do before you did.

“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he orders, his voice full of dominance. “You look so beautiful right now, eyes all big, lips bitten. And fuck, such pretty tits,” he practically growls this last compliment. “I’m gonna mark ‘em up. You gonna let me, baby?”

His touch traveled back to your front after he pinned your hands behind your back, but you remained frozen. Your fingers found their way around your forearm and your nails dig into your skin as you gravelly moan out, “Yes.”

You yelp out as his teeth sink into your flesh. It wasn’t hard enough to break skin, but when he pulls off to give the same treatment on the opposite side you look down to see defined teeth marks on the top part of your breast, exactly where your cleavage would show in a low-cut shirt. You have a sneaking suspicion he did that on purpose. He bites you again, leaving a symmetrical mark, this time sucking the fat of your chest into his mouth a soothing over the sting with a lap of his tongue. Any pain you might have felt is overcome by pure lust, and although you know the bruises will be sore later you find yourself excited to feel that dull ache as a reminder.

“Fuck, princess, are you gonna cum?” he asks, his voice smug, “Go ahead, rub yourself on me, use me for what you need.”

Only when he says this do you realize you’re grinding on his thigh. Surprised by your own actions, you flinch back, and after looking down are humiliated to find that his pants have a dark patch of wetness where you sat. As you’re pushing away, scrambling to get off of him and apologize, he roughly grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to him, using his hold on you to rock you back and forth.

“And just where do you think you’re going? I didn’t say you could stop,” he laughs, “Times not up yet, babe.”

Glancing back up to the clock, you find the big hand hasn’t even reached the five, and you still have just over ten minutes to go.

“What’s wrong, afraid you won’t be able to hold it off? Afraid you’re gonna cum while riding my thigh like the good little slut you are?” he asks after you show your frustration by groaning. “Come on, I know you want it. Just let yourself have it.”

The worst part is that he’s right. But as much as you want nothing more than you finish while fucking yourself against thigh, you know he’ll be insufferable if you give in.

He starts to kiss up your collarbone. “Th- that’s not my chest! This definitely wasn’t a part of the deal!” you stutter out in protest, but he doesn’t let up even slightly.

You feel his lips stretch against the delicate skin of your neck as he smiles into you. “Funny,” whispers near your ear, “I don’t see you pulling away. You don’t want me to stop, do you princess?”

“No,” you answer truthfully without thinking, “But this wasn’t in the agreement!”

“Fuck the deal, fuck the agreement,” he curses out harshly, “You wanna cum, I know you do. You want to be my little slut. Let yourself feel good, princess.”

Any qualms you previously had about trying to hold onto any power had vanished without a trace. The only thing you could think of was how good it felt to grind your clit on his denim. Finally, you gave in and started humping his leg without restraint. You feel your climax rising in your belly, that tight coil ready to snap, when Eddie interrupts with a question you never expected to hear.

“What do you want for the panties you’re wearing?”

Your brain short circuits. “... Excuse me?”

“The underwear. That you have on right now,” he continues, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “What do you want for them?”

Your hips pause in your confusion, but his grip on your waist forces you to keep moving against him, your clit rubbing on the rough fabric of his jeans so sinfully. “I- you- you want… what?” you stutter, trying to decipher if this moment is even really happening or is just a wet dream.

“I know you heard me, princess. I’m getting impatient,” he growls into the dip between your breasts before kissing back up your chest. “I’m going to make you cum, and I’m going to keep these panties. So what do you want for them?”

“Uh, I uh… um,” you search your brain but come up empty. “Fuck, Eds. Just make me cum and they’re yours.”

He chuckles softly into the crook of your neck and says, “My pleasure.”

He starts rocking with you, and you throw your head back as you feel his hard cock rutting against your own thigh. This only gives him better access to your throat, which he happily abused with his teeth and tongue.

“There you go, princess,” he murmurs to you. “So fucking pretty, getting yourself off on me. Sound so good. Show me how good girls cum.” As he’s talking, you get the sense that he’s speaking without really thinking, like this is just a stream of consciousness.

“Come on, baby” he pleads, “I need to see how pretty you are cumming on top of me. Don’t you wanna be good for me?”

“I do!” you call out, your movements growing frantic.

“I know you do. Keep rubbing that perfect little cunt on my leg. Get those panties nice and dirty for me. You wanna know what I’m gonna do with them?”

You’d like to tell him that you don’t want to know. That he can keep his twisted perversions to himself. But deep down, you want to know more than anything. “Wh- what are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna stuff them in my mouth while I jerk off,” he answers shamelessly. “Then, when I’m close, I’m gonna rub them on my dick til I cum right in the crotch. Then I’m gonna make you wear them when we’re around our friends, so you can feel the dry crust whenever you walk or shift, and you’ll know that you have a little bit of me right between your legs. Just like I know you so desperately crave.”

The picture he’s painting has you shuddering, and you feel your orgasm rushing toward you full speed. But, you still feel the need to act defiant. “And what if I don’t have any more ‘trade-off’s that I want to do? How are you gonna get me to wear them after you defile them?”

“Oh, you’re gonna do it,” he laughs again, this time more heartily, “Because you’re a fucking slut, and you want to be defiled by me.”

With this, he bites down where your neck meets your clavicle hard enough to bruise, and sucks sharply, clearly trying to leave a sizable and very much hard to conceal hickey. As you feel his wet, hot tongue flatten against your skin, you cry out in pleasure and spasm against him. Your orgasm is more intense than you would have guessed, given that he never actually made direct contact with your pussy. The waves of electricity rocket through you

With shaky legs, you brace yourself on his shoulders and stand up, your knees almost giving out when you try to put your full weight on them. He quickly reaches out for your waist to steady you and lend support, and you show your gratitude with a squeeze of your hand.

“You good?” he asks, and any trace of smugness you expected to hear in his voice is absent, substituted by pure adoration and care.

“Mhm,” you confirm with a hum, untrusting of your own voice to not break.

“You did so good. So good for me,” he says, so low you barely heard it. “You were so perfect. You are so perfect.”

And despite the fact that you didn’t think it’d be possible for more blood to flow to your face, you feel your cheeks warm with his compliments. With your hands still using his shoulders for balance, his hold on you loosens as they trail down past the hem of your skirt before traveling back up, lifting the garment until his fingertips meet the cotton of your panties.

“A deal’s a deal, right princess?” he asks, his voice unsure.

You nod and let go of him to take the bottom of your skirt, holding it up by your belly button. He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your underwear and starts to pull them down, but your arousal has the crotch clinging to your lips, and you turn your head in humiliation as you feel how he has to literally peel the fabric off of you. When you finally feel the cool air of the room on your hot center, you hear how Eddie breath gets stuck in his throat. He offers you support once more as you bend your knees and raise your leg, allowing him to slip his prize off of your body.

Now that they’re in his hands and you can see them fully, you realize just how much of a mess you made on him. The panties were completely soaked through, and the section of his pants around his thigh is stained darker with your wetness. However, his sizable hard-on making a tent in his jeans and straining against the zipper is enough to calm your worries.

He stands up next to you, and you side step to give him space. Your stomach flutters as you watch him lift the dirty panties to his face before inhaling deeply, and although this act is incredibly vulgar, you can't help the intense wave of arousal it brings to your already dripping cunt. You want nothing more than to just drop this game and be able to have him whenever you want, and even though you know he feels the same, your stubbornness is too severe. He tucks the dirty underwear into his back pocket and winks at you.

“Well,” he laughs, “I’m for sure looking forward to the next time you wanna borrow something, baby.”

[eevees-hobbies]

Hello my beloved. I know you are very backed on requests but I am thinking perverted thoughts rn and wanted to share. I am thinking about Suo’s girlfriend. And how he likes to share her with his friends. How do you think the Furin boys would each react getting 1 minute each with the her/1 minute each to get her to cum. And how do you think Suo would react?

Author’s Note: Hey, Violet! Thanks for letting me continue the, “Suo and his girlfriend are kinda kinky” universe thing I got going on! I love your mind for even thinking about something so torturous! I know I could have made this into a thirst, but you know I’m always on my bullshit.

Content Warning: Fem!Reader experiences Haruka Sakura, Akihiko Nirei, and Toma Hiragi but separately and in different ways :) Sexual activities with an audience (i.e. your boyfriend). Girlfriend sharing. Edging. Fingering. Singular Mention of Breeding. Cursing. Teasing. Suo’s turned on, and I fear for you but that’s for part two for another day. Minors Don’t Interact.

Word Count: 2.9K

Divider by Saradika. Banner by me.

“Isn’t the game called ‘7 Minutes in Heaven?’” You growl through clenched teeth.

The scene set forth in front of you would be considered absurd and debauched by ordinary standards—but you and your boyfriend, Suo, are anything but ordinary. 

A melody of skin slapping against skin, groaning wood straining under the weight of bodies, and primal grunts are the only sounds that echo through the open space you all occupy.

Suo, Nirei, Sakura, and yourself are on the empty roof that houses Umemiya’s garden with only each other and the various plants bearing witness to your sins. You’re panting as you straddle Sakura in a simple, wooden chair commonly used to keep the rooftop door ajar. His hands are gripping the love handles of your pelvis as he pistons his hips upward into your sopping wet–but abused–cunt.

Suo is standing nearby with a stopwatch—his choice of instrument serves as dramatic flair since the timer on his phone would be far more convenient. His eyes dart between the descending countdown displayed on the electronic watch face and back to you, the woman who holds his obsession and love.

He can’t help but think of you as beautiful in this moment, his eyes crawling all over every exposed inch of your naked body as you engage in a lurid affair with Sakura. 

His eyes flicker to various parts of you that have him entranced; his friend's dick continuously impaling your pussy, and the way you’re hanging on to Sakura for dear life as he fucks you with one mission in mind: to win. And the stakes have never been higher. The prize for whoever can make you cum gets to fuck you however they want, for however long, and cum inside of you. That prize? All your idea.

Oh, right, you had asked a question. 

“Yes, you’re right. The game is commonly called 7 Minutes in Heaven, but did you really want Sakura to fuck you for seven agonizingly long minutes, Dove? He can’t even make you cum now.”

Sakura, emboldened by Suo’s words, grits his teeth and thrusts into you harder. His thighs are burning from the continuous motion, but he refuses to think about it—no pain, no gain, or whatever they say. His increased intensity makes you bounce faster and grip his shoulders so you don’t tumble out of the rickety, wooden chair. 

Sakura sucks in as much air as his lungs will allow to fight off the looming and genuine threat of passing out. “H-how much time do I got?”

At that moment, Suo presses a button on the stopwatch.  “Times up! Nirei, would you like to try again?” 

Sakura goes limp in the chair, and your body sits flush against him, hilting his hard dick within yourself, so very close to the spot that would have made your eyes water if he had taken a different approach to his strokes. 

Suo shoots you his notorious closed-mouthed smile in the interim of Sakura trying to wrangle his heartbeat and Nirei trying to find his courage. Who knew his dove was so good at getting fucked by his friends? 

You huff, and your body shakes, but adrenaline and spite keep you from showing any other signs that you might be tapping out soon. 

Truth be told, you’re fucking tired. You’ve been going at this for ten minutes without even so much as a single orgasm. And ten minutes may not sound like a long time, but ten minutes of start-and-stop action has you feeling so frustrated that you might grab the nearest boy by the neck and throw them off the roof. 

Five minutes between Sakura and Nirei, and neither can make your body writhe and coil into absolute fucked out bliss? It’s maddening. It’s pathetic. It’s—Fuck, maybe Suo’s touch has ruined you.

Nirei, despite feeling like this is a losing game, can’t refuse the opportunity to have a turn with you again. He can admit that his first few attempts were lackluster; chivalry got the best of him, and he only ended up kissing you, hands shyly playing with your breasts with his face buried in the crook of your neck. 

And while the experiences were good for him—so good that he has tucked the memory away for those especially frustrating lonesome nights—he hung his head in shame as Sakura and Suo snickered to themselves when the watch signaled that his time was up.

“D-don’t start the clock yet! She’s still on top of Sakura,” he whines as he looks back at Suo.

Sakura lifts you off his dick, allowing you to shimmy away so he can remove himself from the chair.

Nirei approaches the hot seat again, determined to give it his all. Still, as he walks past Sakura, his eyes finally connect with yours—those beautiful eyes that say you’ll eat him whole and then regurgitate him back up because he isn’t worth your time—and he almost turns around. 

“Fuck, why is this so hard,” Sakura grumbles; his tone is more accusatory than you think is fair, considering that you’re the one who’s suffering the most. 

How is his inability to make you cum your fault? You return the same scowl he’s giving you.“Don’t blame me, Sakura! Your technique needs some work.”

“Tch. Not my fault you’re broken.” Sakura folds his arms over his chest. 

“Now, now, don’t fight, kids. Nirei wants a turn again.”

As you sit back in Nirei’s lap, he looks at you, golden-brown eyes shining, and you almost feel bad for him that this was probably his first time being so intimate with a woman, but the thought seems inconsequential as he looks up at you as though you’ve blessed him personally just by sitting naked in his lap. 

“C-can I suck your nipples?” 

You smile and lean into him until your lips are against the blonde's ear, “you can do whatever you want to me, cutie.”

Nirei’s thighs immediately clamp shut, and his hands shoot to your waist and squeeze you, a low, shakey whimper passing beyond his lips.

Suo laughs incredulously, “Did she almost make you cum? You better watch that pretty tongue of hers; it can set you off if you aren’t careful. Time starts now.”

With the added vigor of someone who has something to prove, Nirei’s mouth latches onto your nipple and suckles. And sure, it feels okay, but it could feel sooooooo much better. 

“You can suck harder, Nirei, it’s ok.”

Suo raises his eyebrow at your instruction. He knew you were enjoying this, but helping them win? Devious. 

Nirei gets more aggressive with the sensitive bud in his mouth, his teeth rolling it around until it perks up and hardens between them. You let out an intentionally dramatic, sensual moan while making direct eye contact with Suo.

You begin to rock your hips against Nirei, dragging your wet cunt against the pitched tent in his boxers, “Oh, Nirei, that feels amazing, baby.”

The blonde moans, his brow furrowing with a mouthful of breast and his cock painfully hard for you. 

You run your hands through his hair and arch your back, his jaw practically needing to dislocate to take your entire tit into his mouth. But god is he determined to cover every last inch of your breasts in his saliva; his hand reaches up, and grabs a fistful of your ass and squeezes.

Suo’s eyes narrow at your attempt to get a reaction out of him. He almost feels bad for Nirei, but not that bad since the lucky bastard had a massive tent in his underwear.

“Times up.”

Your head snaps up, suddenly brought out of whatever the fuck was happening right now, “I didn’t hear the timer go off?”

“Too busy enjoying yourself, I suppose,” Suo offers a simple shrug as though he didn’t just crush Nirei’s dreams.

You open your mouth in protest but are quickly stopped by an unmistakable sound: the door leading to the rooftop scraping against the floor as it’s pushed open.

You all, including Suo, share a panicked look. 

“What in the hell is going on here?”

Hiragi pauses as his eyes land on the four of you. “W-what?” 

He’s taking it all in—you, naked as the day you were brought into this world, surrounded by Suo and Sakura as you dry hump Nirei.

Hiragi immediately turns around to shield his eyes from your nudity, but that doesn’t stop his booming voice from sounding any less imposing. 

“Someone better explain, now!”

The boys glance at each other, sharing silent glances, willing the other to speak first. 

Cowards. 

You sigh and speak up, “We’re playing a game. Whoever can make me cum in one minute gets, um..a prize.”

“Aren’t you all too old to be doing something so ridiculous??”

You all blink because that sounded rhetorical?

“And why on the roof?!”

Ok, that was a question that requires a response. 

Suo shrugs, “it was unlocked, and Umemiya is on vacation. I mean, this was spontaneous and started harmless.” 

You glance at the stopwatch in Suo’s hand which is still blinking at 0:00 on the screen. Spontaneous? What a liar.

“We weren’t planning-“

Hiragi holds his hand in the air, “Stop! Talking! How do we get you idiots off the roof?”

You can see the cogs turning in Suo’s head—of course, he would love this—it’s right up his depraved alley. Suo’s eyes travel over to yours, and a wicked smile spreads across his face, “Make Y/N cum.” 

And despite how batshit crazy this is, you swallow thickly, bite your lip and give a nod.

Hiragi sighs, walking over to you while rubbing the bridge of his nose. He can’t help but pity you as he looks past his fingers. Your eyes are practically rabid, obviously chasing an orgasm that Sakura and Nirei can’t give you. 

But damn, you look good like this. Hair plastered to your forehead, lips, and nipples swollen from all the abuse, eyes churning with something that makes him wary but turned on at the same time; you look too good to be left like this. 

Hell, you look good enough to breed.

Fuck, Toma, focus. 

Hiragi can’t believe he’s considering doing this—putting his hands on someone else’s girlfriend on top of a roof in front of the idiots he used to mentor. 

But the more he lists the reasons he shouldn’t be doing this, the more likely he’s to talk himself out of this, and god, does he not want to talk himself out of it. “One minute?”

“One minute,” you and Suo say in unison.

Suo has never had a problem with sharing you—with stipulations. He likes sharing you with his friends; they can’t even fathom how voracious you truly are. Your body is so conditioned to his touch that it takes a considerable amount of technique to make you cum—let alone truly reach that sexual high he often gives you. 

And you may wonder, “what does Suo get out of this?” It has nothing to do with Sakura or Nirei; it has everything to do with the fact that when you come back to him, so desperate to cum, that you’re practically clawing at his clothes, begging him to mercilessly use your greedy little cunt. 

And he’s certainly never been intimidated by Sakura or Nirei because they didn’t know they were in over their heads when they took on this challenge, but Hiragi? Hiragi might be a problem. 

You, however? You can feel your clit twitching at the idea of Toma Hiragi, the Heavenly King Toma Hiragi, attempting to get you to cum in one minute. And just like Suo, something tells you he can do it. 

“Show me how you’ve fingered girls at those metal shows you go to, Hiragi.”

And there you go, right out the fucking gate. 

“That’s…you have a mouth on you.”

“She does,” Suo chimes in, his gaze dreamy as he can’t help agreeing aloud.

“Fucking match made in heaven with you two then. Start the clock.”

Nirei, who was trying to be as invisible as possible, flails under you. “G-guys, I’m still under her?!”

“Don’t worry. I won’t need long.”

And it’s that self-confidence—Hiragi’s confidence in his ability to make you cream in the palm of his hand that was the start of your undoing. 

Suo begins the timer, and Hiragi’s hand glides in between your thighs, two fingers already zeroing in on your sensitive clit and rubbing the fleshy bud with wide, quick circles. He watches intensely as your mouth goes slack and your eyes roll back immediately. 

It’s almost funny; he doesn’t know how long you’ve all been on the roof, but whatever the boys were doing to you obviously wasn’t working. He can tell by how wound-tight you are; being teased over and over with no release is torture, and the way your hips are bucking against two of his fingers pressed against your clit remain a clear indication that you were tired of that edging bullshit. 

Your eyes go wide, and your core immediately tightens; you haven’t felt this good since this morning when Suo had you cumming on his fingers in the shower, which feels like eons ago. 

“Filthy mouth but a sweet pussy,” Hiragi mumbles as he uses his other hand to dip two fingers inside of you. You buck your hips and let out a moan that practically sounds like a laugh because fuck, finally, some dirty talk!

“Mmm, the sweetest pussy, Hiragi. Wanna taste?”

The corner of his lip twitches upward. Who the fuck is this forward girl? Have you always been like this, and he hadn't noticed? 

“We only have a minute, babe, and I’d much rather take my time treating you right. Maybe another time.”

Your pussy is gulping at his fingers, sucking them in so good for him. He can only imagine the way you’d gulp down his dick, and it makes his cock strain against his skinny jeans. 

“You needed this, huh, baby girl?”

“Needed this so baaaad!” You’re bouncing back onto Hiragi’s fingers, his large frame standing near you so you don’t feel like the chair could topple over. And fuck, even if it did, you’d climb back on his fingers and ride them right on the ground if you had to.

Nirei, still pinned beneath you as Hiragi finger fucks you, lets out a small yelp as your breasts bounce in his face.

“N-no interference.” Suo’s voice is low as he watches you fuck Hiragi’s fingers. Something in his brain is firing off on all cylinders. As he watches your face contort into pleasure, eyes closed and mouth in the cutest ‘o’ shape, he can’t help but grunt as his dick begins to ache. He so desperately wishes it were his fingers you were slutting out on. 

Hiragi continues to pump his thick fingers into your cunt, “You boys did a good job, but sometimes it takes a special touch to get them over the edge, ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

You’re practically mewling as Hiragi rubs your slick bundle of nerves, your pussy squeezing around his digits as your cunt personally thanks him for stuffing you full. 

“There she is. There’s the spot, right baby girl? Look at you dripping like a fucking faucet.”

He’s not even pulling his hand back enough to fully pull his fingers out, they’re buried so deeply inside you, and he’s pushing into you so hard, and fast you can feel his knuckles against your cunt’s lips. 

You dig your nails into Nirei’s shoulder as Hiragi’s words and expert touch finally careen you over the edge. Clear droplets ooze down his hand and wrist, splattering onto Nirei’s thigh. And as Hiragi removes his finger, the remnants of your clear cum that were being plugged in by his fingers drip down like honey cascading from a honeycomb.

Nirei shives, “O-oh god.”

Sakura suddenly shouts, out of breath for some reason, “Not fair! We did all the work!”

Hiragi eyes your drooling pussy one last time, hoping to commit the sight of it to memory in case he never gets the chance to look at it again.“Get off the roof, idiots.”

As Hiragi walks towards the door, Suo’s eyes can’t stop looking at the thick cream coating his fingers and palm. As Hiragi lifts the digits to his mouth, licking them clean before descending down the stairs, Suo feels his jaw clench. He’s not upset that you just came on Hiragi’s hands; no, he’s upset that something so mouth-wateringly precious to him isn’t on his tongue. 

While you catch your breath from the orgasm, the stopwatch beeps, signaling that Hiragi–who is already out of sight–won.

Nirei lifts your arm so he can slide out from underneath you. “I-I’m going to leave, guys,” he turns to you and gives you an awkward bow. “T-thank you for letting me, uh..”

Sakura clamps a hand down on his shoulder. “Just stop.” 

As they get dressed and leave, you also begin to gather your clothes; you stop as your hand reaches for your panties, which are strung across a tomato plant. The air feels unmistakably tense, and you understand why as you look over your shoulder. 

Suo is using the chair to jam the roof of the door closed. “You and I aren’t done here. Put those panties on and you’ll regret it.”

And the way his ruby-toned eye is looking at you, you believe him. 

[maliciouslove]

𝕍𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕟

NSFW, dark content, aged up characters (21+)

ʚ pairing ɞ scumbag villain!izuku midoriya x morally corrupt hero!reader

ʚ word count ɞ 2.7k

ʚ summary ɞ izuku grew up with all power taken from him, so he became the type of person that enjoys making others feel powerless. nothing feeds his ego more than a cute girl crumbling under his touch and feeling powerless to stop him from sliding his hands all over her body in the packed train. until he meets you—a peculiar, equally fucked in the head girl that actually enjoyed the things he was doing to her. enjoyed the thrill of almost being caught. enjoyed having power taken from her. a debauched, morally corrupt hero in disguise.

ʚ tags ɞ frotteurism (fetish for groping people in crowded places), tw dubcon, tw noncon, tw sexual assault, tw sexual harassment, tw exhibitionism, tw power imbalance, pussy job, public sex, creampie, cw degradation, use of “whore” once

Just like any other child, Izuku Midoriya grew up wanting to be a hero, however, despite his aspirations, the boy never manifested a quirk. Still, he never gave up and never lost hope—that is, until he failed the UA entrance exam and was brutally made fun of by everyone else.

“Look at this loser, thinking he could pass the exam without an actual quirk, what a joke.”

“Jokes are funny, this guy is absolutely pathetic. Go home kid, become a policeman or fireman instead, leave the hero work for those with quirks.”

“Maybe if you take a swan dive off a roof, you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life.”

Some heroes they were going to be.

And that was when his mind started getting corrupt. Izuku went down a different, darker path than the one he had envisioned as a child. He mixed with the wrong people and little by little he shed off his hero dream, discarding it alongside his morals, being perfectly content being a scumbag villain instead.

All power was stripped away from him once the world learned he was quirkless, so he sought ways to make others feel even more powerless than he did. Nothing stroked his ego more than making cute girls squirm and crumble under his touch in paralyzing fear, as his hands wandered over their bodies on a packed train. He enjoyed the way their eyes would shut tightly as if to avoid confronting the reality of their own powerlessness in the situation. The way their bodies stiffened the moment he leaned in closer to take a whiff of their perfume.

Why aren’t you saying anything, pretty girl? You have a quirk, don’t you? That already makes you more qualified than me to be a hero. So why are you letting me touch you? Why are you keeping your eyes shut? Why are you giving me so much power?    

Every little squirm, every hitch of their breath, every shake of their hands, and the way they would hope somebody would notice—it made Izuku feel powerful.

Do you know why you’re weaker than even me, sweetheart? Because you’re waiting for someone else to save you, you’re waiting for a hero.

 That’s how his days went by—hop on the train, find the weakest target, the insecure girls, the quiet ones, the ones whose eyes still sparkled with hope that a big strong hero will always be there to protect them. Once he found his victim, he moved in, ready to prove them wrong—show them how little heroes actually care. Towering over them, he would stare down their cleavage, letting his imagination run wild as his hands slide up the side of their hip. An accidental grind against their ass, a swift trace of his index finger down the inside of their thigh. His ministrations would make his targets shrink even further, the thrill of being found out feeding his power hunger further and making his cock painfully hard in the confinement of his slacks.

It became routine until he was able to pick out the perfect targets with a single glance, until he was able to predict what each girl would do and how everything would play out. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to find someone equally as debauched as him one day.

With your car being in the repair shop for the next week, you had started using public transport to get to work. That of course meant having to travel during peak hours, more often than not finding yourself pressed against strangers, sometimes absolute creeps, and yet some very dark and hidden part of you enjoyed that, the unwanted attention making you buzz with excitement.

And today was no different—you found yourself pushed in the very corner of the train car facing away from the other passengers. A large green-haired man stood right behind you, muscular arm holding onto the ceiling rail as his entire body loomed over your much smaller one.

The train was fully packed and everyone was minding their business— some sleeping, some listening to music, and others glued to their phones. Yet, the man behind you seemed to focus all his attention on you. You could feel his gaze travel down your nape, studying the curvature of your spine, eyes moving downwards to your ass and legs. It felt like prickles on your skin, like an invisible hand stripping you of all your clothes and the thought made you rub your thighs together.

The lack of space forced you both to stand very close to each other, the motions of the train pushing you into his chest every so often. You could tell he was using every opportunity to smell your hair, craning his neck downwards to also look down your shirt. You wonder if he could see what color your bra was, if he could see the lace poking out from under the collar of your shirt.

The train changed tracks again and you found yourself pressed against his chest once more. This time his large hand found purchase on your hip, thumb gently stroking the bit of skin that was showing above the hem of your skirt. In the reflection of the window, you see his green eyes staring into yours, full of lust and hunger. His aura threatening to consume you entirely and for a second, your body filling with fear, a heavy feeling settling in your chest.

You look away, quickly.

Your heart is hammering in your chest and you fear he can hear it, taste the blood that’s currently coursing through your veins.

The train shifts and you can feel his hard cock pressed against your ass, his fingers on your hip tightening their grip. Your body feels paralyzed under his touch.

But not by fear.

Excitement.

You let your body be swayed by the motion of the train, making sure to circle your ass back onto his cock, licking your lips and buzzing with pleasure when your skirt hitches on his bulge, lifting and revealing part of your panties. You take a swift look around to see if anyone is looking your way, but as usual, everyone is consumed in their own thoughts, too absorbed by their own miserable existence to notice anything else.

You’re dragged out of your momentary haze by his breath on your neck.

“What do you think you’re doing there, sweetheart, has your mommy not taught you any better?”

His voice is deep, feigning concern for you while his eyes ooze vile lust and need for control. His presence devours you, it feels like sludge covering you from head to toe, sliding down your throat and filling your lungs with dread, making you unable to talk, unable to even look him in the eye.

His hands move down your hips, hiking your skirt up even further, fingers tracing the delicate lace of your underwear. Your clit is throbbing with anticipation so perfectly masked as fear. For Izuku, your heightened pulse meant paralyzing fear, but only you knew the truth about how this made your blood boil in excitement. How much you wanted him to slide his hands between your legs, to fucking take you right then and there, amidst the people that could see the pleasure blooming on your face any second now.

You faintly hear the unzipping of his slacks and feel the warmth of his cock on your bare skin—it’s thick and heavy against your ass cheek, smearing pre on your skin and panties. You’re feeling dizzy, body going limp in his strong arms as his hand sneaks around your waist and cups your pussy under the frills of your skirt.

For a brief moment, his movements pause as his mind processes what he’s feeling—you’re soaking wet, panties completely drenched, arousal practically dripping down your thighs. He was used to women’s bodies reluctantly reacting to him, but this was rather different. His eyes dart forward, inspecting your features more closely now—your heart was erratic, but not because of crippling fear. He leans in, noticing how blown your pupils are, consuming all the color in your eyes. Lips parted and chest heaving, he finally finds the piece of the puzzle that seemed to be missing, the explanation behind the odd feeling of being unable to predict what his prey will do next—your eyes had the same fragmented madness behind them.

You were just as sick as he was.

Without a second of hesitation, the hand that’s cupping your sex moves your panties to the side, thick and calloused fingers running through your wet folds, spreading your arousal and circling around your clit with tender motions.

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it—your skin is on fire and your insides are melting under this stranger's touch. You close your eyes in an attempt to compose yourself while the hand on your hip travels up your sides to squeeze your breast, teasing your nipples over the fabric. The green-haired man’s breath is almost as erratic as yours, his hard and leaking cock evidence of how turned on he was by your compliance, by the fact you were actually enjoying being used like this in public.

His cock now rubs between your thighs, his hot skin meeting your sticky one, and your insides beginning to knot just by the thought. You’re letting a complete stranger get off on you. You secretly hope that someone else on the train has noticed and is maybe even enjoying the show.

Your insides are aching for relief so you push yourself against his cock, the mushroom tip spreading and gliding between your folds, clit rubbing against the veins on his shaft.

Holding yourself with one hand by the ceiling rail and slightly lifting yourself onto your tiptoes, feeling the tip of his cock pushing against your entrance. Biting your lip you sink back onto his cock, taking two inches past your entrance, grazing your soft walls. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes you experience every sensation trifold, makes you want to shamelessly grind against him and moan in ecstasy, but you are in public, therefore you compose yourself and relish in the slow feeling of being filled up by this man.

Izuku’s hand grips your waist harder, fucking himself into your tight, greedy cunt, feeling himself being sucked in by your plush walls. You are practically dripping onto his cock, the natural lubrication allowing him to smoothly fully sheathe himself inside you, putting his other hand over your mouth to prevent to moan that was about to escape your lips.

He holds you there, flush against him, the tip of his cock pressing against the deepest, most delicious spot inside you, subtle hip movements rocking you back and forth, the slow motion allowing him to massage that sweet spot he currently finds himself pressed against.

His eyes briefly scan the train cart, confirming that every passenger is still oblivious to what’s going on, continuing to push you off his thick cock, only to slide back in, softly, as though not to make a sound.

He’s big in every sense. His large frame hiding you from any onlookers, big hands easily maneuvering you onto his fat cock, splitting you open and pushing through the resistance of your tight hole. Your body jolts as he stretches you out almost painfully, but every time he thrusts inside you, you see stars in your vision from how deep he was.

You feel snug and warm around Izuku’s cock and he could stay buried inside you forever. He’s never met anyone this fucked up who would let him use them for his own pleasure. In a fully packed train nonetheless. You were sick and twisted just like Izuku, making him relish in the feeling, sensing that you’re not going to cause a scene and opting to let go of your waist in favor of sliding his hand down the front of your pelvis and playing with your puffy clit.

The moment he started drawing soft circles around your sensitive nub he felt your knees give in and your insides clench. God, you were going to come undone for him.

He watches your eyebrows pinch together as you bite your lip, slowly increasing the pace of his thrusts. You look so pretty, trying to keep your pleasure hidden, but shamelessly moving your hips to match his own.

For the first time during this train ride, you look into his eyes and maintain eye contact instead of shyly breaking it off. There is pure sin set ablaze in your eyes, a lustful need, a burning desire that he feels he needs to quench. Just your eyes alone could make Izuku cum on the spot, seductive and debauched, deprived and full of the same madness as his own.

Your eyes beg him, so he obeys.

With one final, rather harsh thrust Izuku buries himself to the hilt, emptying his load deep inside your gummy walls, spurting thick white ropes of cum while nuzzling his face in your neck—committing your scent to memory.

The train slows down as it approaches the next stop and the strange man gently pulls out. Your hands quickly fix your panties and skirt, hiding any evidence of his ministrations. His load slowly trickles down, soiling your panties, and yet the feeling brings you nothing but joy, as if you were currently on cloud nine.

The train comes to a halt, an alarm signaling the opening of the doors blares out.

The mass of people began leaving the train, the tall green-haired man seamlessly blending into the crowd and disappearing.

Avoiding eye contact and swiftly walking past clusters of people, Izuku was assured he was out of danger, turning around the corne—

“Where do you think you’re going, handsome?” You cut off his path and look into his eyes, a smile that didn’t reach your eyes plastered on your lips. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

“Aw, I don’t think anyone’s ever come for seconds before.” Izuku places his hands in his pockets, giving you a smug smile and shamelessly tracing every curve of your body with his eyes, imagining what you look like without all those pesky clothes on.

“Aw, you know, you’re kinda cute, Izuku Midoriya,” The green-haired man's smile faltered. From the inside pocket of your jacket you pull out a card that he immediately recognizes. A card he was destined to never ever obtain. “Too bad I’m gonna have to arrest you.”

Before his mind could assimilate, you had easily pushed him against the wall with his hands behind his back, placing handcuffs on his wrists.

“Y-You can’t arrest me, you whore, you literally let me fuck you, what kind of hero are you?” He spits out in shock, words laced with venom, growling in attempting to shake you off, even though panic rises in his throat like bile. “You’re no fucking hero, you’re just like me.”

“Mm, I  probably am… but see, I have a quirk so I can get away with being a morally corrupt hero.” The words spoken in a sickly sweet voice rang in his ears, deafening, despite being whispered, meant only for his ears to hear.

Izuku opens his mouth to argue, to threaten to expose you, but you shush him with an index finger over his lips.

“Don’t bother, who do you think they are going to believe? A pro-hero with a quirk and a squeaky clean record, or a quirkless scumbag that we have hundreds of reports on for sexual harassment and assault?”

With no affection or remorse you yank him by the hair and lick the shell of his ear.

“I had fun, Izuku. Find me when you get out of jail.” You place a final feather light kiss to his cheek and lead him through the crowds to bring him into the nearest precinct.

No man would ever make you feel as alive and exhilarated as he did, the memory of what you did being something you often revisit when you get yourself off late into the night after patrol, thinking of his villainous green eyes, while your words would haunt Izuku and play on a loop each night as he plotted ways to find you once he had served his time.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

[moonlight-prose]

✧ BASIC NEEDS ✧

a/n: this one is simply a short filthy blurb for this man. i wrote it faster than i intended to, but the inspo was alive the other night. it was a nice change of pace to write something like this compared to the angst i usually give him. which don't worry there will be more angst coming. also...yes the gif was necessary. his tongue is the main character in this one.

day fifteen - cunnilingus + cum eating | kinktober 2023

summary: "you’d call him insatiable, addicted without any way to appease the craving he had. and you’d be entirely right. he was addicted."

word count: 1k+

pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cunnilingus, oral (f receiving), cum eating, assplay, ass eating, sex in a public place kinda, bradley being unhinged.

You’d call him insatiable, addicted without any way to appease the craving he had. And you’d be entirely right. He was addicted. Unable to stop himself from needing a taste of you, a small amount to hold himself over until the next time. But those small promises of ‘let me do this baby I need it’ soon became so much more. Which is usually how you ended up in this position.

The noise of the bar was muffled through the bathroom door, but you couldn’t have focused on it even if you tried. Halfway through the night after two hours of playing pool and chatting with the boys, he had dragged you back here. The hunger was clear in his slightly glazed eyes. Although you wanted to bet no part of him was drunk on the alcohol he’d been consuming.

If there’s one thing about Bradley it was that his tolerance outmatched everyone at the bar. Able to drink each of them under the table two times over. A feat he’d tested several times.

Your hands were pressed to the door, head hanging forward, teeth digging into your bottom lip so hard you could taste copper. Except it was the only thing keeping you quiet as he knelt behind you. Tugging up your dress and sliding your lace panties down your legs. They pooled around your ankles, the color three shades darker than usual. A light pink now turned a mauvy purple. He grunted at the sight, hands cupping your ass as you arched your back towards him and that’s how you knew…he had you.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he mumbled, eyes stuck on the way your pussy was shiny with slick, your arousal clear. “How long have you been like this baby?”

You sucked in a breath. “Hours.”

“Poor baby.” He spread your ass, a moan getting caught in your throat at the obscene way he stared. “Shoulda told me. I’d have taken care of you.”

“Fuck.”

His cheek pressing to the back of your thigh, breath hot against your skin and it did nothing but make you squirm. “I can fucking smell you.”

“Bradley,” you whined, your hips pushing back slightly. You heard him chuckle and it made your cheeks burn, body practically shaking with need. “Don’t tease me. I can’t take—”

Your gasp was sharp, body slumping against the door when his mouth sealed over your pussy. Tongue sliding through your folds—his moan vibrating through you. When it came to eating you out Bradley was messy. He loved how he could turn you incoherent. How his touch brought you to life. He sucked at your clit, the sound echoed in the small confines of the bathroom, making you feel debauched. As if he wanted the whole bar to hear how he ate your pussy.

How much he enjoyed it.

“Tastes like fuckin’ heaven,” he mumbled, spreading you even further and pressing his tongue at your entrance.

“Oh god,” you moaned, cheek pressing to the door when he pushed forward, thrusting the wet muscle into you as his thumb found your clit. Sliding along it with quick movements.

His moan was loud—depraved—as he licked at you like you were the tastiest thing in this fucking bar. Although to Bradley you were. To him you were the sweetest slice of life that he could have. The lucky charm that he’d always searched for. You were everything he’d ever wanted and then some. Which is why the craving he consistently had, the addiction he had to your taste—your sounds—never eased.

Pulling away, he glanced at the way your eyes had fluttered closed, mouth parted and chest heaving. Eventually someone would come looking for you. If not that then the bathroom would be occupied by others. Yet he wanted to take his time. To strip you of everything except his touch—desperate to watch as you fell apart over and over again. Unfortunately that wasn’t something he could do here. So he dove back in, ripping a high pitched moan from your throat.

Two fingers curled into your wet heat, nudging perfectly against that spot that made your legs shake in your heels. The feeling of pleasure burned through you, shoving you towards an earth-shattering peak. One Bradley loved to drag you over.

“‘M gonna do this again when we get home,” he said, biting into the flesh of your ass. “I’ll eat you on the kitchen table like a proper fuckin’ meal.”

“Ah fuck I’m g-gonna—”

His tongue slid through your folds, a moan being pressed to your pussy that you felt in your toes. “Want to feel you baby.”

You were right on the edge. The sensations that coursed through you nearly sent you to your knees, but Bradley was holding you up. Keeping you stable as he had his way with you. The feeling of his spit hitting your asshole, trickling down to your pussy shoved a shocked moan up your throat. His tongue sliding along the tight puckered hole, sending you even higher.

“Don’t stop. Please, fuck.”

He moaned, fingers speeding up and tongue pressing forward. His other hand sliding up, thumb pressing into your ass, sent you flying over the edge. You slapped a hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your shout as you came. Gushing over his fingers and trembling against the door. He groaned, continuing to lick at you until you reached behind you and shoved at his head. Unable to take much more.

“I got you baby.”

You gasped, pressing your hands on the door to give you some leverage to stay upright. Only for him to lick through your pussy again, dragging a high pitched whine from your lips.

“B-Bradley I can’t—”

“I know honey.” Yet he didn’t stop, drinking you down with sloppy wet sounds that made your heart race. “Let me just taste you. Need it so fucking bad.”

Your eyes rolled back when he sucked your clit into his mouth, your cum now smeared across his chin. Shiny proof of what he’d been doing. You didn’t stop him this time. Fully ready to collapse on the floor as he licked at you, moans echoing in the room as he devoured you. He was starved and who were you to deny him his favorite meal? The taste of you.

[kaeddehara]

EX BOYFRIENDS — NSFW

kaeya + heizou + cyno

♱ warnings | nsfw content, slight hate sex (kaeya/heizou), jealou sex (cyno), breeding, size kink(kaeya), implied sir/general kink(cyno/kaeya), bondage(heizou) |

♱ notes | kinda lazy posting cause i’m been so busy with work and school; also just sad cause i haven’t seen my boyfriend in 2 weeks ;( |

| KAEYA |

“k-kaeya slow down”,

you struggled out as he roughly continues taking off your clothing. the smell of alcohol distinct on his breath even when he so much as breathed next to you. all of this was wrong, every single aspect about it. but it’s not like either of you cared right? just a quick fuck for both of you right?

“you look just how i remembered you, pretty thing”

he teased while pulling at your hair, causing your back to arch at an almost painful state. not like it mattered though not when the feeling of his girthy cock filling you up over and over again made you overwhelmed with pleasure. kaeya always had such a tender touch even with how rough and often times uncaring it seemed, you could tell he did it out of the feelings he had for you. he noticed you drifted off a bit thinking his pace wasn’t enough for you and graping at your hips with ease. pulling you on his cock and making you take every last inch inside your tight, sensitive pussy.

“god so big…”

“bet you missed it didn’t you sweetheart?”

you could only bite your lip and nod in agreement, letting kaeya manhandle you just how you both like. you couldn’t even think. not when you’re getting pounded by your drunk ex who doesn’t know when to quit. his stamina was unmatched in every way, you couldn’t even imagine how debauched and ruined you’d be after the captain was finished with you.

“slow down sir kaeya”

as if on cue, he slowed. not because you asked but more because of that damn pet name only you would call him in bed.

“don’t call me that”

“come on kae i know you like it”

he huffed at your annoying comments, still making himself at home inside of you. and god it was so easy to do so. all of it he remembered so clearly and if it wasn’t until now, he may have just had to keep imagining you in hopes it would be somewhat adequate to the rest thing. even down to how you smelled, he missed it all. everything. maybe it was the alcohol talking, but a sudden twinge of regret and conflicting feelings mixed each other up inside kaeyas mind.

“just shut up and take it”

after the many rounds kaeya went through with you, you both found each other lying next to one another in his bed. you’d long since pass out from how tiring it all was, mentally and physically. although kaeya was exhausted too, he couldn’t help but continue to think about you. kaeya wishes he could just talk with you just so you could see eye to eye. maybe a talk over some breakfast cooked by him in the morning would do <3.

| HEIZOU |

“you couldn’t even go a couple of months without this huh?”

heizou jeered at you in an attempt to rile you up. he was oh so good at that. making you reach a certain breaking point which how badly he got into your head.

“s-shut up already..”

you weakly replied back, hair messy and face slicked with sweat. he smirked at your response, only tugging your cuffed hands which were placed behind your back towards him. your body lifting up in the process of him pulling you so harshly.

“i even tied you up just how you like and you still wanna tell me to shut up?”

a loud array of whines and protests escaped from your lips as his thick cock continued to roughly pound you over his work desk. such a dirty place to do it and even then, why not let you come in to his office and let him relieve some stress. it’s no surprise you both missed doing this within the privacy of heizous office.

a loud slap could be heard soon after he asked you that question. his hand leaving a red mark on the fat of your ass just to get something out of you. we’re you always this stubborn when you were with him?

“just because we’re not together doesn’t mean you don’t get to listen to me slut”

“you never stop talking…”

your head was dizzy and only filled with thoughts of getting fucked stupid your obnoxious ex. it wasn’t like heizou wanted anything more than just this right?

“ah-fuck that feels so much better than i remembered…”

he groaned in a low tone after cumming deep inside your tight pussy. not even bothering to pull out cause he knows you love getting filled with more cum than you could take. he patted at your side, touching you so gently even after all the things he said and rough treatment he gave your pussy.

“let’s get you to bed, we can talk later alright?”

| CYNO |

the quiet room of his office wasn’t so quiet anymore with the constant sound of hips hitting yours. back laid out on his desk making his papers all messy and join the other items once adjourning his desk on the floor. not that cyno cared though. all the mattered in the moment was you, you, you. cyno couldn’t even make himself look up at your face, not with the shame in his heart what would probably be written all over his face if he did look into your sweet, tear ridden eyes.

“she’s not my new girl, i could never replace you even if i tried”

your face contorted into a shocked one while silence filled the space. cyno was taken aback too by his sudden confession but that didn’t stop him from continuing to fuck you, head piece covering his eyes so neither of you could see the shame written on his face.

“you mean that cy?”

he huffed as small, low growls escaped his throat at the feeling of your warmth engulfing all of the thick, sensitive veins his cock missed.

you both were referring to the conversation you both had after you met cyno outside the academia. seeing him earlier with another woman his age, you didn’t know why it drove you insane other than the fact that she was with cyno and not you.

“just focus on this alright?”

he whined out as he rutted even harder into you as to not allow you to respond to him. faster and faster until he knew you were about to cum. he heard what sounded like a giggle come from your lips. we’re you laughing at him?

“sure thing, general”

cyno clenched his fists at the title. he knew what kind of game you were playing, honeying your words up to tease him after he’d had a long day. almost reminded him of what you used to do when you’re together…didn’t matter though.

he remembers exactly how you sound when you do. taking his hand off your waist, he rubs his thumb gently against your clit to help you out. your hands grip onto his lean arms, nails digging into his pretty tan skin.

“fuck cyno—i’m gonna-!”

you cut yourself off as you came with a sudden rush, your body twitching and spasming around his while he pushed himself in to a hilt. you huffed yourself back down and gained some control back over your body after an orgasm you’d hadn’t felt in weeks. and in that moment, cyno looked at your face. how pretty you looked in the afterglow and how much he missed taking in that look and kissing your lips after.

“didn’t want to cum inside cyno?”

you asked, disappointingly. cyno snapped back to the reality before sighing at your question and looking down at where you both were connected. noticing the thick, creamy halo around the bottom of his cock.

“i wouldn’t want myself getting addicted to that feeling again”

[bangchansbackohmygod]

Hey I’m new to this requesting thing but I really love you’re work and I was wondering if you would you be able to write something about Hyunjin or Felix being with someone that LIVES for sucking dick🤭🤭

Hyunjin Hyunjin this is definitely meant for Hyunjin

I don't think either of you were expecting it. You'd done it before, he'd received it before, just never with each other. So when you and your best friend Hyunjin got a little too tipsy during a movie night and ended up in a sloppy makeout on your couch, and your hands started to wander a bit, and you decided "to hell with it" and you freed his aching hard-on from his jeans, and you gave the head an experimental lick....

You didn't expect to love it so much.

It was an immediate addiction. The whine of your name, the buck of his hips, his taste, it all flooded your mind and flipped an unknown switch deep inside of you. What you thought would be foreplay ended up replacing the main event, his excitement buried deep in your throat as you slammed three fingers into yourself to sate your own fervor. You moaned in ecstasy around the thickness as he came for you, his eyes crossing and a line of drool slipping down his chin to match the mess he'd made of your own mouth.

Then of course came the sweetness. The confession of the feelings you'd both been hiding, the gentleness as you cleaned each other up, the giggling awkwardness as you planned a first date. It was a halo of warmth, a softness that you'd never expect had come from such a depraved act of lust. And so it was that Hyunjin became your doting boyfriend.

Who you went down on every day without fail.

The itch just needed to be scratched. You'd wake up next to him, his angelic face soft and innocent...and you'd feel yourself salivating as you imagined waking him up with a blowjob. So you did, his mind mushy and pliant as he barely gasped out a few "thank you"s before he unloaded into your waiting hole. You'd visit him in the practice room during his lunch hour, the light scolding you gave him for skipping his meal to run through his new choreography devolving into him fucking your face savagely. Both you taking glances at the wall-length mirror that showed how debauched you both were, your faces only getting more heated and your moans more primal at the sight. When he came home, when he was eating dinner, when he was cuddling you during tv time, when he was on the phone with Chris, when he laid back on your bed after his pre-bed shower, anything and everything he did made your core twitch in anticipation. Your hands would grow restless and your mouth would begin to hang open just a bit without you really noticing. Once the feeling took you over you'd move to your knees and look up at him sweetly, your big eyes peering at him in a silent request of approval. And without fail, he'd bit his plush lower hip and put a hand on your head, his hips already beginning to squirm at the promise of what was to come.

~~~~

(This request was really something, when I tell you I was blushing! Thank you for the request, kind anon! Please come again if you'd like!)

[sarahscribbles]

OK but for 97. "I was good when you were gone! I didn't even touch myself." is SOOOOOO denial! Reader. Loki tells her she's going to come on a certain day (finally) then he gets unexpectedly called away on a mission for a few days and when he gets back-- JFJDIWHBEJEJ

Ask and ye shall receive!

𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐩, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟏𝐤

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐎𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You sense his presence only seconds before two strong arms are looping easily around your waist, pulling you tightly against his solid chest so he can nuzzle his face into your hair. The familiar scent of him settles around you like a favourite blanket - a heady mixture of soft earthy scents mingled with something subtly sweet that you’ve never been able to properly put your finger on. 

All you know is that it’s Loki. The best thing that’s ever happened to you.

A quiet smile tugs at your lips and you wriggle back a little further into his embrace. “I knew you were there,” you say casually, continuing to stir your tea.

He gives your waist a squeeze. “Course you did,” he murmurs, gently moving your hair away from your neck. 

You barely have time to enjoy the brief brush of his fingertips before they’re replaced with his lips. They move languidly against your skin, as though nothing matters more to him at this moment than savouring the taste of you. His lips are soft and warm, giving the illusion of a blissful afternoon spent in his arms, but when you feel the wet press of his tongue against your throat, you know he has nothing but filth on his mind.

A whimper falls freely from you just as your hips begin to rock slowly in search of…something…anything to take the edge off. 

“Feeling needy, dove?” Loki taunts quietly, nibbling your earlobe while his hand slips beneath your shirt. 

His cool hand running over your skin makes you shiver in delight and anticipation. Easily, he finds your breast, pulling it free from the confines of your bra to toy with an already erect nipple. He pinches and rolls it between finger and thumb to send a satisfying jolt of pleasure racing through you, making you crave more of him. 

His touch has every nerve in your body flickering joyously to life, and when he squeezes that little bit harder, the groan that escapes you can only be described as debauched.

“What do you think?” you shoot back, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder. Your eyes flutter shut while he continues to play with your nipple, and arousal pools like liquid sin between your thighs when his other hand quickly finds its twin. 

Needy doesn’t describe what you’re feeling - it doesn’t even come close.

For the past week Loki has denied you release - for no reason other than he wanted to - and he’s been diligent in teasing and edging you each of those seven days, ensuring that you’re kept perpetually stimulated 

Truthfully, you aren’t sure how you’re still capable of forming coherent thoughts. Night and day, all you can think about is getting fucked senseless on Loki’s cock. 

He laughs softly right by your ear and the feel of his warm breath hitting your skin is enough to voraciously fan the flames of your own lust. “I think you’d let me mount you on this countertop if I wished to,” he says with a particularly rough twist of your nipples. 

The bite of pain is intoxicating and makes your cunt throb. All you need - all you ever need - is Loki. His sinful tongue, his skilled fingers, his beautiful cock - you’ll gladly take whatever he’ll give you until you can no longer remember his name.

“Please, Loki,” you plead softly, already feeling a wave of pleasure begin to build in your core from how he’s torturing your breasts. 

His touch is electric and you know without a doubt that you would let him mount you right here in the kitchen if it meant you got to feel that release.

“Mmm, you sound so beautiful when you beg,” he purrs softly in your ear. The tip of his regal nose slowly traces your jaw and he stops to place a surprisingly chaste kiss to your cheek. “I’m going to let you come tonight, my little dove,” he whispers against your flushed skin. 

The worlds roll over you one by one, each one stoking the embers of desire in your core to life until a raging flame is burning like hellfire in your core. The man is sin incarnate, he’s been sent by the Devil to ensure your eternal damnation, and with how soaked you are for him - because of him - your eternal punishment is firmly guaranteed. 

“Is that a promise?” you ask, already feeling close to dizzy at the mere thought of an orgasm.

Loki’s teasing fingers pull and twist at your nipples just hard enough that a broken cry escapes your lungs - a cry that tells him just how much you’re enjoying the torment. Though, he no doubt knows that there’s little he can do to you that you won’t enjoy. 

His teeth sink into your earlobe and pull until you shiver in his arms. “It is my solemn promise,” he says softly. You feel one hand drift along your stomach to slide beneath the waist of your skirt, and then he’s slowly, torturously, using a single finger to trace over your cunt through your underwear. “I’m going to make you unravel again and again and again.”

The ache between your thighs becomes almost unbearable, the searing heat of your desire threatening to fully engulf you if not sated. Loki’s finger traces agonisingly over your cunt, touching every part of you except where you burn for him most. It’s erotic torture and it doesn’t take long until you’re wriggling and twisting in his arms in a fruitless attempt to coax him closer.

His answering laughter is like spun silk in your ear - delicate, but teasing as he pulls his hand away before you can find even a modicum of relief in his touch. “You need to be patient, dove. It’s not even midday,” he taunts, fixing your bra and righting your shirt. The teasing, for now, is over. 

Your fingers curl against the smooth surface of the countertop at the exact moment a strangled groan rises in your throat. You sound close to possessed, but you can feel the throbbing of your desire right down to your toes, and the thought of having to wait even another few hours for release is almost unbearable.

“You’re such an ass, Loki!” you whine, feeling hot tears begin to prick at your eyes with how badly you want him to fuck you. 

You feel him gently smack your ass - nothing more than a love tap, really, - and his hands come to rest possessively on your hips. “I can make you wait another week if you’d like.” His voice is suddenly heavy with warning, and you know he has no qualms about adding another seven days to your torment. 

Begrudgingly, you swallow back the retort that’s dancing on the tip of your tongue. “No,” you answer instead, irritation evident in the single syllable. 

Loki presses his lips to your temple while his hands glide up to cup your breasts again, giving a final twist to your nipples through your shirt. “Then be a good girl and wait.”

Wait.

He says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world, as though you couldn’t power a small city with how intensely the arousal is burning within you. 

But he still expects you to wait.

Asshole. 

A violet haze of unbridled lust settles quickly over you, and you spend the rest of the day attempting to ignore the burning ache swelling like a storm between your thighs. No matter what you do, though, all you can think about is Loki’s cock. Your every thought is about how he’ll feel finally sliding inside you after a week of teasing and how each vein will feel as he drags his cock along your walls. 

You imagine how his hips will feel pressed flush against yours while he fills you to the brim, until you’re no longer sure where he ends and you begin.

You try not to think about it, you really do, but it’s impossible with Loki being intent on driving you completely insane in the final hours of your denial. 

Five hours after sneaking up on you in the kitchen, he had you pinned against the conference room wall, kissing you breathless while ensuring to rub his thigh tormentingly along your throbbing cunt. The edge crept up on you with a vengeance, each rock of your hips against Loki’s thigh bringing you closer and closer. It was so close, so beautifully, wondrously close…

“No,” he’d purred, smirking and pulling his thigh away. “That is not allowed.”

“Loki, please! I can’t do it!” you had pleaded, desperately rolling your hips in search of his. 

His strong hands were quick to pin them firmly against the wall, preventing you from chasing the pleasure you craved. “You will do it, dove,” he replied with quiet firmness, raising a hand to curl it beneath your chin. “Only a few more hours and I promise you won’t remember your own name.”

The rich timbre of his promise had arousal twisting like a knot in your stomach. Gods above how you wanted him. “I don’t think I can wai-,” you began, only to be cut off by Loki’s lips crashing down on yours in a kiss so passionate it almost made you dizzy.

You knew it was a promise of what was to come, a promise that he intended to ruin you as soon as night rolled around, but you wanted nothing more than to rip his clothes from his perfect body. 

“Ten o’clock,” he’d murmured against your lips. “Be waiting in our room at ten o’clock.” He’d given you another lingering kiss and left with a wink to disappear behind the conference room doors.

The bedroom is where you’re waiting for him - where you’ve been waiting for him for the past fifteen minutes. You know he’s doing it on purpose - intentionally dragging out the final few minutes just because he can. 

It’s infuriating, but you wouldn’t expect anything else from him.

When fifteen minutes melt into twenty you’ve had enough of his games, but you’re barely two steps towards the door when your phone starts to chime with an incoming call. 

Loki.

“Where are you?” you whine down the phone, not even bothering to hide your impatience. 

You’re expecting to hear his laughter on the other end and his smooth voice teasing you that you couldn’t wait even an extra twenty minutes, but when he speaks, he sounds genuinely contrite. “Darling, I’m sorry, I -”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, because, in the background of the call, you swear you recognise the familiar hum of…

“Are you on the Quinjet?” you interrupt him, disbelief mingling quickly with your impatience. God, you want to murder him.

“Yes,” he answers quickly. “Darling, I am truly so sorry. This wasn’t part of the plan, but Stark insisted that I accompany Thor and The Widow on this mission. It won’t last any longer than three days.”

The burning flame of need coils inside you like a serpent prepared to strike. “Three days? Three days, Loki? I’ve already waited an entire week!’ you whine pitifully down the phone.

There’s a beat of silence and you know he’s moving to a quieter section of the jet where he won’t be overheard. “I know, darling, and I’m so proud of you,” he says, his voice an octave lower than before. “But you only need to be good for three more days. Can you do that for me?”

You huff a quiet sigh, knowing it will get you nowhere. “Yes, Loki,” you answer quietly, because, really, there isn’t any other option. He hasn’t given you permission to come, so you won’t.

You can hear the smile in his voice when he answers. “Good girl. Three more days and I am yours.” 

They’re the longest three days of your life. 

Each second of Loki’s absence feels like an eternity, and by the third day, you’re ready to climb the Tower walls with how desperately you need him. Every inch of you thrums for him, every pore burns for him and, night and day, he’s all you can think about.

You fall asleep to dream about his warm lips painting you purple and red. 

You eat breakfast while daydreaming about his strong hands encasing your wrists above your head. 

You shower to the thought of him easing inside you inch by beautiful inch, until he’s filling you to the brim. 

If he doesn’t return soon from whatever godforsaken part of the planet he’s on, you’re going to put yourself in an early grave. 

It’s when you’re preparing for bed that you finally hear the familiar heavy tread of his boots along the hallway, and you’re immediately wide awake, any and all need to sleep is quickly replaced by a primal hunger for the god approaching your room. When his footsteps stop at the other side of the door, you feel as though your heart is attempting to break free from your chest with how wildly its thundering, as though it's screaming out for its mate in the chest of your god. 

The bedroom door opens slowly, tantalisingly revealing your leather-clad love inch by inch. You don’t miss how his eyes - soft as dew at first - instantly darken with untamed arousal when he sees that you’re awake. 

And that you’re wearing that flimsy little gold nightgown he’s threatened to rip off you on more than one occasion.

You don’t break eye contact as he closes the door softly in his wake, but you feel the coil in your stomach twist at the quiet sound of the lock clicking in place and the faint green shimmer that passes over the door. You know without even asking that he’s cast a silencing charm. 

Loki’s eyes travel slowly over you, drinking in the sight of your bare legs and pausing only briefly on your cleavage. You catch the quick quirk of his lips when those green eyes finally return to yours, a storm of desire swirling openly in blown wide pupils. 

“My, my, dove, what could possibly have you awake so late?” he purrs smoothly, closing the distance between you in slow, measured footsteps that make your heart jolt with each thump on the floor. 

You attempt to fix him with a hard stare. “If you even think about playing games with me tonight…” You try to sound firm, unmovable, but you both know that you’ll be his toy if he wants you to. 

This man owns you body, mind and soul. There’s close to nothing you won’t do for him if he asks.

His hands find their home on your waist, and open adoration now mixes with the desire swirling in his eyes. “No games, dove, that I promise you. You’ve waited long enough,” he murmurs, letting his hands move to rest on your shoulders, gentle fingers pushing the thin straps of your nightgown down your arms until it pools in a golden puddle at your feet. “My good girl.”

You feel his hands ghost along your sides until they’re encasing your ribcage, fingers splaying across your back in tandem with the silken pads of his thumbs tracing your nipples as he leans in to kiss you. It’s slow and deep and his mouth moves almost lazily against yours, as though all that matters is tasting you. His touch is the diesel to your desire and sends flaming tendrils of longing flicking through you unforgivably. You want this man, you need him, and the feel of his skin on yours isn’t nearly enough.

Loki bites your bottom lip, pulling a strangled whimper from you while you lock your arms around his neck to pull him closer, deeper. Eager hands twist into his hair, savouring the feel of each silky strand that wraps around your fingers and tugging in just the way you know he likes. 

You’re rewarded with a gutteral groan against your lips and a rough squeeze of your ass. 

Strong arms stay locked around you as he walks you backwards to the bed, only stopping once your knees hit the mattress and you topple backward into the pillows with a quiet “mmph.” Even then, your own arms stay locked around him to bring him with you as you fall, because you don’t want to lose the feel of him for even a second. 

And a second is all it takes for him to settle between your spread legs like a missing jigsaw piece, never once letting his lips leave yours.

You’re drowning in the feel of him beneath your fingertips, the taste of him on your tongue, the smell of him as he battles to be closer, and you don’t care if you never surface again. He’s as familiar to you as the beat of your own heart and the sound of your own breathing, he’s the anchor that stops you from drifting out to sea on your worst days and, gods above, you love him so much that sometimes it hurts. 

“Love you,” you say when he finally breaks your kiss. “I love you.” 

Even in the half light of the room, you swear you see the faintest trace of pink stain his cheeks. He hums appreciatively, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “I love you, my good girl,” he replies, and that smile twists into a smirk. “You have been good for me, haven’t you?”

“Yes!” Your voice is shrill, almost a yell, but you’re so wildly desperate that you no longer care. “Loki, I’ve been so good! I didn’t even touch while you were away!”

He quirks a perfect eyebrow at you, mischief sparkling in his emerald eyes. “Is that so?”

His fingers trace along your inner thigh until they reach your cunt and it clenches in anticipation, but Loki grants you only the lightest touch, intentionally avoiding your clit until you’re bucking your hips beneath him in search of more. 

“You’re soaking, dove,” Loki says, feigning surprise. 

The smart reply that’s dancing on your tongue dies instantly when he pulls his hand away to slip two fingers between his lips, licking your arousal off them with a satisfied hum like it’s the finest ambrosia.

The sight is so lewd, so wonderfully, deliciously wicked that you’re certain you could climax by sheer will alone, such is the effect that this man has on you. 

You roll your hips firmly against his - it’s an invitation and a plea in one small movement, and it’s enough for you to feel his hard cock straining through the thick leather he still hasn’t removed. 

Again, you roll your hips, feeling suddenly emboldened by the firm evidence of his own arousal. Loki groans softly at the fleeting contact, and it sends a rush of power to your head when his own hips try to follow yours, almost as if acting of their own accord. 

His green eyes are almost blown completely black, and your own desire - your own insatiable hunger for the man above you - is reflected back at you clear as crystal. 

He needs this just as much as you. 

“Imagine how I feel,” you murmur, tugging gently on his curls again for good measure. As expected, you hear the quiet catch of his breath. 

Loki leans in until his lips are brushing teasingly against yours, and for a second you forget how to breathe. “My little temptress, as if I could possibly resist you,” he whispers softly, before claiming your lips in a kiss so fierce that your heart skips a beat.

It’s a kiss that sets your blood on fire and one that you feel all the way down to your toes. You need him closer even though you’re skin on skin, and when your hands begin to roam downwards, you discover that he’s finally magicked his leather away in an unseen shimmer of green. It doesn’t matter that you’ve held him like this countless times in the past, your fingers still explore every inch of him like it’s the first time. He’s firm and solid and safe. He’s the most beautiful thing that your hands have ever touched. 

He’s yours.

Reluctantly, you pull away, because as wonderful as kissing him is, it’s not enough. You need to feel him inside you, need him to ruin you again and again. You need the reminder that you belong to him. 

Maybe more than once just to really drive the message home. 

“Loki…Lo..fuck…Loki, please,” you begin to beg just as his lips latch onto your jaw. They’re neither rough nor gentle, but you know you’ll be painted in his marks tomorrow - a patchwork of red and purple that you��ll display with pride.

“Please,” you continue in little more than a whisper, feeling your eyes flutter shut to bask in the warm glow of the attention he’s lavishing on you. 

By now, your eager hands have reached his ass and you squeeze it hungrily in a vain attempt to force him forward. His cock is brushing almost maddeningly against your inner thigh and you don’t know how much longer you’ll last without it buried inside you. 

Loki nips at your neck with his teeth in reply - something he knows will have you moan, and you do - and you respond in kind by curling your nails into the smooth skin of his ass. 

“Shhh, dove. I am yours,” he murmurs quietly into your cheek, placing a final chaste kiss to your flushed skin before grasping your chin gently in one hand, ensuring your eyes stayed locked with his. “I want you to keep those lovely eyes on me.”

You obey easily, leaning into the touch of his large palm cradling your cheek and barely even blinking as he eases himself inside you. It’s slow - so slow that you feel every last beautiful inch of him until he’s filled you to the brim, and he releases a deep, guttural groan from deep in his chest once his hips are flush against yours.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything but bask in your welcoming warmth while resting his forehead against yours. Your name is a strangled whisper into the night alongside the single, shallow thrust of his hips into you. It’s barely anything, but you still arch into him and dig your nails into the soft skin of his back - a silent plea for more. 

“You are Valhalla,” he murmurs, voice raspy as he claims your waiting lips in another lingering kiss. 

You hum contentedly against his lips and clench around him just enough that he hisses at the sudden jolt of pleasure. “Told you I’d feel good.” You can’t help but tease him, dragging your nails along his spine until he shivers beneath your touch.

His answering smirk is endearingly lopsided. “Little minx,” he responds, lifting one hand to flick your nipple.

It sends a thrill pulsing between your thighs and a moan tumbling unrestrained from your lips. Your hands grip him that little bit tighter, but he’s solid as a rock beneath your fingers, refusing to budge even an inch in spite of his earlier promise.

“Loki, if you don’t hurry up and fuck me…” You let the threat tail off because you can feel every twitch of his cock as it’s buried inside you.

His own resolve is hanging on by a frayed thread. 

“I thought you’d never ask, dove,” he teases, and before you can give any witty reply,  his hips are finally thrusting into you. 

All you’re capable of is groaning and covering his broad back in little half moons as his cock drags exquisitely against you. It’s been so long that every ever forceful thrust engulfs you in flames and when his skilled thumb finds your swollen clit, his name is pulled from you in an unbroken stream. 

He builds you up expertly, easily, and he’s all too quickly panting and moaning like a whore right in your ear.

“Look….look at what you do to me, dove!” His voice is ragged, and he’s fucking you so hard now that the headboard is beginning to bounce off the wall. “I am yours,” he repeats, sucking another bruise into your neck until you’re writhing beneath him. 

“Fuck…Loki…’m…I’m gonna come!” you manage to force the sentence out, though it sounds like a garbled mess to your ears. You’re right at the edge, teetering deliciously on the precipice of bliss. 

He finds your lips for an eager, sloppy kiss. “Good girl. Come for me,” he says hoarsely, and you instantly soar off the edge. 

Thirteen days of denied release comes crashing down around you in a devastating wave and sends tiny white stars exploding behind your eyes. Loki’s name is all you're able to say and he’s made you come so hard that you feel boneless beneath him. 

You grip him like a vice while you ride out your climax, listening to him groaning and panting endlessly in your ear. It’s what you do to him and it’s a thought so intoxicating that it makes you dizzy. It’s you - only you - that can reduce this god to a desperate mess. 

You’ve barely come down from your high when Loki pulls out, flips you easily onto your hands and knees, and plunges back inside you.

“I hope you got enough rest while I was gone, dove,” he rasps out, gripping your hips so hard that you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. “Because I do believe I owe you three more orgasms.”

Tags: @infinitystoner @muddyorbsblr @coldnique @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @the-lady-amphitrite @joyful-enchantress @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl @give-me-a-moose @springdandelixn @maple-seed @loopsisloops @kinky-faerie @mischief2sarawr @wintermischief @icytrickster17 @mischief-dream @littlespaceyelf @ashtheslut @lunarnights95 @ladyofthestayingpower @currish-rosewolfe @fandxmslxt69 @liminalpebble

[desultxry]

Midday

Jodi x male reader 900 words

It's ten past twelve.

"Jodi."

You both stumble through her door in a clumsy, yet familiar, buzzed sort of way.

"Come on,” she breathes onto your neck. Jodi's trying, pulling at your bomber jacket, making every attempt to get it off your shoulders.

"Let's at least close the door." You say, laughing.

She lets you stomp all the way against the wall, pins you. "Fine, but get. This. Off." A playful pat accompanies every word. Her cute, mock pout quickly melts into drunken laughter as you hasten towards the door.

This is the usual for you two. Nearly every Saturday the same. Oddly enough, the whole mess began when you two were sober.

And it's when you lock the door—this loud and decisive sound—that you both know all bets are off.

Jodi did really hint at it first; that's the story you're sticking with. She will forever debate the opposite, but you remember clear as day: ten forty-five. You had just set your phone down after checking the time (how opportune, you'll applaud) and the cafe was getting lively. She sat perpendicular to you, got real close, and just whispered. It was filth—desirable, tempting, tantalizing filth. You were both very agreeable after more than a few drinks over brunch.

"Mmph." You're the one kissing her neck now, her moans by your ear, begging. "More."

Jodi's dress is impossibly short. You both continue to stumble towards the usual couch as your hands find their way down to the back of her thighs, her ass, always so plush and easy and yours. Bunching up some of the thin black fabric by the small of her back, you expose her ass and smack. It's got this impish thing to it that she really likes, unrestrained and wanton—a trigger; she brings your lips together in this torrential kiss that pushes you over whatever was left of that edge and you’re left plummeting.

~

Twelve thirty, your best guess.

Her ass has tender red marks all over. It barely fades into the reflection on the glass pane of her apartment as Jodi kneels in front of you, hair sways accompanied by these sinful sounds: gags and chokes and slurps of spit.

“Oh fuck,” you growl.

You hold her head in place after every paced thrust. With hands on your thighs to help ease herself into it, she grips, leaving retaliatory marks of her own; Jodi’s equally eager to have your cock pushed down the back of her throat. The pain's worth every second, you figure—much like you've figured before.

Jodi's lips let go with a pop to then pump your length with all the drool and slick. She twists her wrist—it's slow, methodical, just how you like—and looks up. Stares right through you.

"You're so fucking hard," she moans.

And her puffed sleeves: one's fallen, lazily resting as one of her breasts spills over. She notices the way your eyes glaze over hers, down to her chest, and slides the other off.

~

It's this thing about lust, its persistent qualities, that has you both yielding to alcohol as a means to this debauched end. You lose track of time as per usual.

Jodi's on top, riding, bouncing. Her dress was flung off to god knows where and you're smothered by her tits, grabbing and sucking on her taut nipples interchangeably. Your cock throbs harder each time she slams down that soaked pussy of hers:

"Fuck." Jodi gasps and moans.  "It's so deep—so deep."

Her warm folds cream around your length; you can hear it with each upstroke of her hips. Your busy hands run up her used-up tits, flush-red chest, and around her neck, pulling her in for a needy kiss. Jodi struggles and stops bouncing—turns it into more of a grind—and by the time your tongues slather each other in spit she reaches her first, quivering orgasm.

~

When you reach yours—you assume it's getting close to one p.m. by now—Jodi's on all fours, wanton and needy and still riding that post-orgasm high.

She's always this lecherous, as if never fucked, never satisfied. Her hips push back against your thrusts to meet you halfway. She fucking loves it; this loud and steady cadence—deeper, harder—fills the room along with her moans, your grunts, and the occasional spank you give her bright red ass.

You cross the threshold together. At a certain point in time, Jodi's hand slipped under her and began to rub her clit incessantly. You could feel it every now and then, at the end of those hilting thrusts. And knowing just how desperate she became for another orgasm got you all the more closer to your peak.

When you finally do cum, ropes of white coat all around Jodi's cunt: some paint her throbbing lips as you pull out, mixing with her arousal as it drips its upcoming orgasm; another just above her ass, trickling down onto that puckered hole; and the rest lands on her cheeks, her back.

Jodi cums again, flutters, and her fingers work faster as she feels the glazing warmth. You can see her holes pulsating and you're terribly tempted to go in again—smear all that cum around her pussy and fuck it into her as echoing moans get louder and louder—but you're spent. 

As she spreads some of it with her fingers during the last few throbs of her reddened slit, you collapse to the side, sweaty and exhausted—downright consumed—and catch a glimpse of Jodi’s sultry stare. She smiles through the final bouts of her orgasm:

“Same time next week?”

[mulberrysilk]

play date

Shunsui Kyoraku x f!Reader

synopsis : You and Shunsui have a little thing going on under the wraps. He invites you to his office to discuss work...or so he says. 

author’s note : Just a little something because Shunsui is one fine ass man. He’s so hot like I cannot. I am in my Bleach era and will write more fics for keyboard. 

cw: oral sex (female receiving), slight angst? , Shunsui teases you to no end, unestablished relationship, there’s feelings but reader isn’t sure and Shunsui isn’t saying anything but he’s in love with her too, Ukitake makes an appearance, Special Extra at the end of the fic, just for laughs :> 

 also if you’re feeling generous, you can tip me on ko-fi!

How on earth did you get into this predicament?

Well, you knew how. You just didn’t expect it to go this way. When you answered your fellow Captain's call to come to his office to discuss matters on the special ops squad being sent to investigate the world of the living, you believed it was just that.

Not this.

“Oh, dear. Have you finally run out of things to say?” His baritone voice teased as you squirmed on his desk, your thighs over his broad shoulders with his arms locked around each leg to keep you in the position you were. Anybody could walk in. You knew the 13th division Captain was on his way too.

“S-shunsui.” You glared at him, breathless and painfully aching with arousal. He only pouted his full lips in mock pity and rubbed gentle circles with his thumbs on your skin.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart. It’s only going to egg me on.” He smirked devilishly and if only you weren’t in his secure hold, you would’ve kicked him away. Now was not the right time nor place to be doing this. It was a hidden fact that you and the Captain had been warming each other's beds for months now with no strings attached, and were undoubtedly physically attracted to each other. The other captains assumed that you were just a victim to his harmless flirting and that was it.

“You know I like it when you play hard to get,” he kissed your inner thigh, stubble tickling your skin. “I like it even more when you make those cute lewd faces though.” He hummed with a smile, keeping his eyes on you as he leaned closer to lick a strip along your slit, from your aching core to your sensitive clit. Your thighs shook, feeding his ego at how he had one of the most revered Captains putty in his hands.

“Shunsui, someone could walk in. S-sto—ah!” Your attempt at protest was feeble and your restraint staggered when he kissed your sensitive nub and had begun to suckle on it. Pleasure shot through your body, your core tightening and shaking from the warmth of his tongue and the way he moved his head to provide the friction and pressure that he knew had you whimpering and panting in seconds.

Shunshui moaned against your mound when he felt your fingers thread through his hair and began to tug and grip it in the way that sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. He kept his gaze on you. His view provided him with the debauched state you were in. Shihakuso undone, it revealed the smooth skin of your stomach and the soft peaks of your breasts, that bounced and jerked with every movement of your body.  But his favorite of all was his view of your face. Your pretty lips that would purse and speak threats at him, were parted in sweet bliss and moaning his name.  Your eyes that would glare at him with a heat that excited him, were shut in bliss, struggling to flutter open with the pleasure he made you feel.  Ah, this must be what a goddess looks like. Shunsui thought.

He halted his ministrations eliciting a whimper of disappointment from you.

"For someone afraid to get caught, you are being rather loud, my dear. Not that I'm complaining." He smirked up at you and before you could snap at him, he continued his assault on your aching pussy that had only continued to drip with more and more slick.

Your mind was hazy with need. His hot tongue swirled sinfully good, you cursed at how good he was at pleasuring you with his mouth. And those lips, those stupidly plump lips, wrapped around and sucked at your clit sinfully good. You’d never admit it out loud but despite his affinity to chase women, he was irresistibly charming when you looked past it. He was strong, and muscular and had such broad shoulders that your legs hung perfectly over. You hated how much you liked him. How good he made you feel. How he truly made your heart skip a beat so many times when he gets doting and sweet on you.

You didn’t want to give in so easily and the arrangement between the two of you as time went on, made your heart grow fonder of him.

Meanwhile, the man who believed heaven was between your thighs, was drunk on the sweet musky taste of the honey that dripped from your pussy. He couldn’t get enough of you, can you blame him? You were cuter than you let on and when it was just you and him in the privacy of his Captain's quarters, you were sweet, shy even. In your shared colleagues' eyes, you were his beautiful and revered Captain who could take down her enemies without a scratch.

But only he knew you. Really knew you.

He made mental notes of the things you liked, things that made you smile or made you scrunch your nose up in disgust, and most importantly what he does that makes you blush, what made you feel good and would have you glowing from pleasure.

Keeping his lips on your clit, he teased the dripping hole of your entrance. It was easy to collect your slick and slowly push in his two fingers. He felt his cock throb at how warm and soft your walls were, and how it squeezed him.

You moaned out his name so sweetly again and the further he plunged his digits and played with your clit, the more he could feel your velvety walls pulse around him. He curled his fingers. Your back arched. Your thighs trembled on his shoulders and the grip you had on his hair tightened.

“S-shun…” you tried your best to speak, propping yourself up on your elbows to have a good look at him. You shouldn’t have been so turned on at the sight of him like this, and yet when he curled those fingers again, your head threw back in bliss. God. He was going to kill you.

He detached from your pink heat briefly. “I can tell you’re close, darling. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

Without hesitation or a look of stubbornness, you nodded. Your eyes were soft yet pleading. Your pretty lips were caught between your teeth, Shunsui unaware of how consumed you were with the idea of kissing him.

Before he could latch on again, he felt your soft delicate fingers touching his bigger, rougher ones. He raised his gaze to you, brows arched in question. He paused and curiously let you do what you wanted. Your fingers moved to intertwine with his and once both your hands held his, you shyly looked away. Shunsui felt as if he could die right there. You were just so— he couldn’t even find the right words to encompass the entirety of you that has bewitched him. He gave your little hands a gentle squeeze, the action being something so intimately different between the two of you before he delved his tongue into your walls, nose bridge pressed against your sensitive pearl. Your melodious whimpers and moans commenced once more.

Tethering on the edge of your climax, your stomach coiled and your hips visibly shook. It was getting all too much. There was no way you were going to be able to hold back from cumming. The vibration from his ravenous groans and the pressure of his nose against your clit, moving with the way his tongue tensed and swirled inside of you, tipped you over.

Your hands clenched his tightly as your back arched and convulsed with the orgasm that shot through your body. Shunsui didn’t stop kissing and lapping at your folds, wanting to taste the honey that spilled from your climax. Not wanting to overstimulate you further, his lips left your pulsing core and he swiped his tongue over them to not let it go to waste. He opted to lean his head on your tummy, watching your chest rise and fall. He held your hands still, softly playing with your twined fingers, lazily looking up at you with a satisfied grin on his face.

“That’s my pretty girl.“ He cooed, pressing a kiss on your hip bone.

When you were able to catch your breath, your legs still dangled over his shoulders. You slid them off, letting them fall to the side, and slipped one of your hands from his to prop yourself up on his desk. Your body still tingled with the waves of pleasure that bounced within your body and he lifted his head off your tummy, to let you sit up fully.

“Hey.” Half-lidded, deep-set eyes met yours. Your left hand was still intertwined with his and you scooted closer, tugging at his collar so that he could sit properly on his captain’s chair and that his face was leveled with yours which lined up perfectly due to how tall he was. “Am I going to get a good review—

You cut off his deep smooth baritone voice with your lips. Shunsui’s brows raised slightly with surprise but immediately melted into the kiss. You could taste yourself on them. When he felt your little tongue swipe on his bottom lip, he parted his lips to let you have a better taste. He hummed deeply at your sweet kiss, your arms draped over his shoulders and he couldn’t help but pull you from the edge of the desk, and into his lap. Your lips parted in a gasp when your sensitive heat was pressed right against his closed erection, his hakama confining him. He took that opportunity to slot his tongue into your cute little mouth, finding so much bliss in kissing you. It was different, this kiss. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made it different other than you were the one who initiated it.

Breaking apart to get air, he was met with this hazy look in your eyes that made him melt. His hand came to your cheek and he was taken aback when, like a cat, you leaned into his touch.

"Oh, dear..." he drawled out with a teasing smile that softened the more he stared at you, all flushed and glowing from pleasure. "When did you get so sweet like this? Hm? Have I finally made you fall for me?"

You batted your lashes at him, silent. He was trying to goad you. Just when you were being all nice and affectionate. He waited for your response while you gave him a chance to say something, anything, that wasn't teasing or goading.

He stroked your cheek with his knuckles, his thumb tracing your plump lower lips. His own lips parted and your heart sped up a little. You didn't know what you wanted to hear from the brunette before you but you wanted something more, and you hoped he knew what that was.

"Will you..." his voice lowered as he leaned close as if to kiss you again. "Return the favor?"

The atmosphere the two of you had created, cracked.  Sighing, you pulled away from his touch and slipped from his lap, the man left speechless at the sudden absence of your warmth.

"Y/N-channnn." He whined, brows furrowing as he watched you bend over to slip your underwear on, followed by your hakama. "Come back, sweetheart. Did I say something wrong?"

You rolled your eyes, fastening your shihakusho to conceal any exposed skin and with every movement the fabric made to cover your skin, the man was getting more and more desperate. Fixing your hair, you went to grab your zanpakuto that was leaning against the wall.

"You're leaving? Y/N-chan, you can't just leave." You turned to face him, to see pleading confused brown eyes. "Not like this." He gestured to his lap, to his hard-on that was begging for your touch and that had ached with every moan that slipped from your lips earlier.

"Yes, I can." You huffed. You would have relieved him if he wasn't just...just...ugh. You didn't even know. It's not like the sex was terrible. Far from it. Maybe...just maybe you were tired of playing this game you two started. You wanted more and you didn't feel safe enough to admit it to him out loud yet when he's not showing any signs of wanting more too.

A knock on the door was your cue to leave.

"Oh, hello, Y/N!" Ukitake's gentle, handsome voice sounded and you politely smiled at his greeting on your way out.

"Aren't you going to stay for the discussion?" His brows furrowed, confused as to why you were leaving already, glancing at Shunsui who shifted in his seat and had his gaze set on you. Did you two fight again?

"I'm all caught up, Ukitake-taichou. Kyoraku-taichou, will inform you of the preparations and shinigami who will be in the special ops squad. I have some other important matters to deal with." You replied, bowing your head slightly with respect.

"Y/N-chan." Shunsui's voice called out, masking his need and disappointment. It was as if he was telling you with his eyes that he wanted to speak with you after. You can't promise him that.

"I'll see you when I see you." You huffed with a cute pout that was foreign to Ukitake and a little familiar to Shunsui. It was the cute almost heart-fluttering, kind of pout women made when they're upset over their significant other or the kind of pout an annoyed child makes when someone steals their toy.

"Perverted old man." You narrowed your eyes at him, the outspoken aura of your being a Captain cracked, your head hot with annoyance and your body still all fuzzy and soft from the orgasm Shunsui's stupid, stupid, stupid, mouth gave you. You stomped away, the sight a little adorable to the two captains as very rarely do you act so endearingly and far from the repose you had as their fellow captain.

Shunsui sighed as you disappeared down the hall in a quick flash step and Ukitake clicked his tongue. With hands on his hips, he shook his head and looked at his friend.

"What did you do now, Shunsui?"

Special Extra

“Reporting live in the Seireitei! I am Matsumoto Rangiku, your gorgeous host! Just this week, Captain L/N was spotted in Captain Kyouraku’s office TWICE!”

She holds out the mic to her first victim, flinching as it was shoved towards his face.

“What are your thoughts on THAT Captain Ukitake seeing that its YOUR best friend?”

Ukitake, trying his best to defend shunsui but being a bad liar, “I’m…….. not sure”

*cue comical sparkly segue *

Nanao: he’s just being a pervert. I’m sure someone as strong, smart and beautiful as  Captain L/N has a different type

Yachiru, smelling mischief: but yesterday, I saw Y/N head to Captain Kyouraku’s quarters at night

Kenpachi: Who’s [beep]ing who?

Rangiku: AH, please censor yourself for the sake of this interview, we stream to under 18 users too

Kenpachi: Oh *censored* sorry, my bad, *censored* *censored*, but yeah they’re definitely *censored*

Hisagi : Kyoraku did smell like Captain L/N’s  perfume

Rangiku, Kira, Ikkaku, Yumichika: 😐 how do u know what she smells like

Hisagi : 👁️👄👁️

Captain Komamura: hes right though

Rangiku: *gasps*

Hisagi, the hole he dug getting bigger: y-yeah

Rangiku; what about you Captain Unohana?

Unohana: oh? I guess if the rumours are true. I’ll think they’ll have very cute children 🥰

Rangiku: Captain Komamura how would you like to put your abilities to use and do some detective work with us????

Tosen, imagines Komamura sniffing around like a dog: no, don’t

Byakuya: It is unprofessional to fornicate in the workplace.

Cut to the 6th division barracks. Members of the squad are seen cleaning floors and every surface meticulously.

Byakuya, a couple of feet away from them and in range of the camera shot : You can never be too careful.

Nemu, on the side: But according to the data we collected recently from our security footage regarding pigeon flight patterns, we also collected the common paths that the Captains of the Gotei 13 undertake and concluded that Captain L/N and Captain Kyouraku do spend an inordinate amount of time together

Rangiku: why….why are you collecting that data

Gin: oh? You guys only found out about this now? I’ve been spotting them go at it like rabbits for a while now

Rangiku: !?!??!?!?!!?

Gin: Im kidding

Everyone else: ……

Aizen, trying to be a pacifist and hide his taylor swift reputation era mode: They do make a lovely couple

Rangiku: As part of the onmitsukido, surely you might have seen something

Soi fong ,turning red: the lives of other captains matter not to me

Yoruichi: come on soi fong drop the tea

Soi fong: i-i-i m-may have seen them…………

Urahara: Captain L/N? No way *gasps then lights up* Did you know she was my first?

Rangiku: First??????

Urahara : 😌✨ it’s up for interpretation ✨.

Turns to the camera. Backdrop changed to a crayon coloured art piece, advertising candy.

Urahara: If you wanna spy more efficiently on the captains, might i suggest my latest invention, Mars-hollows!

Rangiku: Seeing as how youre the subject of all this gossip and that Captain L/N refuses to make a comment, what say you Captain Kyouraku??

Shunsui: Oh? Yeah, we’re fucking.

Captain Y/N : please take not that Captain Kyouraku has been demoted from fuck buddy to no buddy

Hitsugaya : Rangiku this is what youve been doing instead of your job????!???

fin

[duskandcobalt]

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Five

Chapter Summary: On her last night in Velaris before she heads home, Elain and Azriel finally gets a chance to talk about what's going on between them.

Word Count: 5.9k

Missed the first four chapters? You can find the Masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: As always, thank you for all the love on the last chapter of this fic. It's always so much fun to hear what you guys think. An extra thank you for your patience with me in getting chapter five out. This past month has been a rough one and I haven't been writing much because of it but I finally managed to sit down and finish this chapter and I'm happy with how it turned out. I hope you are too. As always, I must remind you that this is a slow burn and we must get through a heavy dose of angst before we can reap our reward. The good news is, the reward is coming very soon.

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

The first time Elain had sex with Graysen was also the first time he’d asked her about the necklace. 

It was the last week of January and he’d invited her back to his apartment after he’d taken her out to dinner at a glamorous hotel that offered unbelievable views of the city for their fourth date. She’d seen the invitation for what it was. Knew exactly what he had in mind from the way he’d lowered his voice to ask her, the pad of his thumb sliding over her bottom lip. Elain had only hesitated for a moment before she’d accepted his offer, Nesta’s voice in her head from a night years ago when she imparted some wisdom to Feyre after a particularly bad breakup, her hands on Feyre’s shoulders as she looked into her teary eyes. 

“Fey, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” 

Elain had laughed at her sister’s advice at the time but standing there outside the restaurant that night, looking at Graysen as snowflakes drifted lazily from the dark winter to sky to cling to her hair and eyelashes, she’d decided that she wanted to put Nesta’s advice to the test.

She’d spent weeks in a daze, unable to sleep as the memory of Christmas night played on repeat in her mind as if it was some sort of faulty film reel incapable of moving past a certain scene and insistent on torturing her. She had grown sick of it - sick of the guilt that consumed her for still daring to think of Azriel. For wanting him again even though she had been the one to leave. 

Dating Graysen had only done so much to take the edge off, providing her a few hours of distraction each week, but she needed more. She needed to attempt to replace the phantom feeling of Azriel’s weight on top of her, the feeling of him inside her.

In a way, sleeping with Graysen had helped. She’d always liked sex. She enjoyed being close to another person, appreciated the immediate intimacy that came with having a pair of hands gripping her hips and someone’s lips on her skin. In the few times that she’d pondered what Graysen would be like in bed, she’d suspected that he would be much like the other guys she’d been with over the years and she’d been right. 

His initial careful kisses had quickly progressed to deeper, bruising ones. The gentle hands that had slowly undone the zipper on the back of her dress had transitioned into firm hands that held her down and maneuvered her whichever way he liked, taking her how he wanted without taking a second to even check if she enjoyed the things he did.

Elain was used to this treatment. The rough sex. She’d come to like it - crave it, even. But every now and then, there was an occasional moment where her partner would leave and she’d be left by herself in a cold bed, thinking about things a little too long until angry tears welled in her eyes at the realisation that most of the men she’d been with felt entitled to do whatever they wanted to her. That no matter how respectful they may have been towards her or how much they genuinely liked her, they all seemed to get off on debauching a girl that was otherwise quite reserved. Graysen had been no different and because she’d always desired touch, she couldn’t help but take it however it was presented to her. 

Graysen had taken the small golden pendant in between his fingers minutes after they’d finished, propping himself up on one elbow until his shadow loomed over her. His thumb had dragged over the engraving on the front - smoothing over the intricately detailed rose- before he flipped it over to study the back, turning it this way and that until it caught the little bit of dim light streaming in his window from the streetlamp outside. 

“What’s the deal with this?” He’d asked her, the slightest edge to his voice. “You never take it off.”

Elain had tried her best not to freeze at the question but she couldn’t help the way her heart stopped for a split second before her heart rate picked up again, slamming against her chest like an anvil. She gently took the pendant back from him, easing it out of his grip to press it tight against her chest until she knew it would leave an oval shaped indentation on her bare skin. It was a grounding tactic, something she did to bring herself back into her body whenever her anxiety veered out of control.

What was she supposed to tell him? How could she begin to explain the necklace that she’d worn religiously every single day for the last four years? The sentimental value that such a small object held? 

She couldn’t exactly tell him that every time she touched it, she thought of the hands that had made it just for her, thought of the way those same hands had grazed her skin the night Azriel had fastened it around her neck and all the things those hands had done to her the last time she’d visited home before she started dating Graysen. When she’d been propped up on Azriel’s kitchen counter and splayed out in his bed. 

There was no simple way to explain that she’d never mustered up the courage to ask whether the tiny ‘A’ he’d engraved on the back stood for her last name or his first. 

Instead, Elain had settled for the most honest answer she was willing to give him at the time. 

“It was a birthday gift from a friend back home.” 

She’d never thought that they’d get to the point where she’d have to divulge exactly who that friend was, let alone have that friend and her boyfriend in the same room together. She’d been a fool to think that Graysen wouldn’t put two and two together and last night she’d been well and truly caught out. She’d stood in front of him like a deer in headlights, one arm wrapped defensively around her stomach while her other hand clutched the necklace tight in between her fingers as if she was afraid that he’d reach out and pry it right off of her. 

“Is he or is he not the friend that gave you that necklace, Elain?” Graysen had asked her once more, his lips pressed together in a firm line. 

Elain had hesitated for a moment but she knew there was no way around this. There was no lie she could possibly make up to steer him away from the truth. It was plain as day who had given her that necklace and so all she could do was just nod silently and try to keep her hands from shaking.

“Unbelievable,” Graysen ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the short strands. “He’s not just a fucking friend then, is he? Didn’t seem like he goes around making jewelry for all of his friends.” 

He was right. Azriel had never made anything for anyone except her. It was something that Feyre and Nesta never let him forget.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Elain took a deep breath, dropping her necklace back down and crossing her arms in front of her chest. “A friend made me a necklace for my birthday. There’s nothing else to it.”

“Did you date him?” He’d asked, his gaze unwavering as he stared her down. Daring her to try and lie to him.

“No.” Elain answered easily and honestly. “We never dated. Never even came close to it.” 

Even if she’d spent plenty of time daydreaming of what it would be like to date Azriel, she’d never pursued anything more with him for reasons that were all too complicated to explain.

“But you’ve fucked him.” 

He hadn’t phrased it as a question. It was a statement, his shoulders squared and his voice sure. 

Elain had hesitated a second too long and she watched as something settled in his eyes that made her realise that he’d been hoping he’d been wrong and was sorely disappointed to find out that his assumption was correct.  

“How many times?”

She had scoffed, shaking her head. Couldn’t believe that he would have the audacity to even ask her that question. 

She’d been about to open her mouth to argue back, to ask him what number would qualify as too many times or if knowing how many times she’d slept with Azriel would affect anything, but the sound of footsteps running down the hallway caused her to pause. 

She’d been saved by her nephew who had popped his little curly-haired head around the door to Rhysand’s study to innocently ask if she’d read him a book before bed.

Elain hadn’t even spared a second to look at Graysen again before taking Nyx’s small hand and allowing him to lead her up the stairs to his bedroom where he spent entirely too long picking out his book for the night. 

She slipped out of Nyx’s room an hour or so later, only padding down to the kitchen to say goodnight to Feyre and Rhys, before heading back upstairs. She’d been simultaneously relieved and disappointed that Azriel had left just ten minutes before with Nesta and Cassian. 

Elain had tiptoed into the room she and Graysen had taken over for the weekend, had quickly changed and silently crawled into bed, facing away from Graysen who excused himself to bed not long after their ill-fated conversation. He’d sidled up to her after a couple minutes, pulling her back against his chest while one hand slid up her stomach to cup her breast. 

“Gray,” she tried her best not to flinch away from his touch. “We can’t. Not here.”

“El,” he muttered into her hair. “Come on.”

“Thought you were mad at me,” she couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped her as the hand that wasn’t circling her nipple dipped under the waistband of her underwear.

“You can’t blame me for being jealous when someone else looks at you like that.” His teeth scraped over the sliver of skin that the stretched out neckline of her shirt left exposed.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of,” Elain whispered, biting down on her lip as he turned her around and pulled her on top of him. 

He ground his hips upwards, letting her feel him hard against her. “Prove it to me.” 

She wasn’t particularly in the mood for this but she relented, allowing him to lift her shirt over her head before she bent down and pressed kisses all the way down the center of his chest. 

This was the opportunity she needed - not to take her mind off anything that had happened that day. There was nothing that could keep those memories at bay. It was simply a distraction, exactly what she needed to hopefully keep Graysen from asking more questions that she wasn’t ready to answer.

She’d give him this, let him have her just how he liked while her mind wandered elsewhere. To a place where the hands on hips weren’t his but someone else’s. To a night that featured her fingers buried in dark hair while a pair of hazel eyes looked up at her from between her thighs. It was wrong - so unbelievably wrong - to think about someone else in a moment like that. But she couldn’t help it. Couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty as she let herself get lost in the fantasy of tattooed, golden skin sliding over her own bare skin.  She was only thankful that Graysen’s hand was over her mouth to keep her quiet because if it hadn’t been, she would’ve had to fight to keep a different name from slipping out from between her lips. 

One more night. She just needed to make it through one more night and then she could go back to her new city and do what she did best - pretend that the life she had in this town, and the person that she was when she was here, didn’t exist at all. 

…

A few months before their wedding, Nesta and Cassian had moved to a sprawling property on the outskirts of Velaris that featured a gorgeous ranch style home complete with the porch of Elain’s dreams - one that wrapped around the entire perimeter of the house and featured a built-in swing to the right of the front door. It was picture book perfect and it helped to ease the loss both Feyre and Elain felt when Nesta moved… even if she was only a forty-five minute drive away. 

Elain had always looked forward to spending a weekend at Nesta and Cassian’s. She and Feyre would pack a bag and head up to their cousin’s house where the three of them would sit shoulder to shoulder on the swing, a thick blanket draped across their laps as they watched the sun set over the mountains. If they were lucky, Cassian would bring them snacks and drinks until either bugs or the cold sent the three of them heading back inside. 

This time, instead of a gossip filled car ride with her sister, Elain and Graysen had made the journey in almost complete silence. She had hoped that they’d made their peace last night but when she’d awoken this morning, it was clear that there was still some awkwardness lingering between them… perhaps at the knowledge that the subject of their argument would be sharing a wall with them tonight.

He hadn’t left her alone for even a second since they’d walked into the house to find Azriel already there, a dish towel slung over his shoulder as he chopped onions for whatever it was Nesta had on the menu for the evening. Even when she went to greet Azriel with a hug, deciding that it would be more suspicious if she greeted him any differently today, Graysen’s fingers had stayed on her back.

She remained patient with him, pushing aside the anxiety she felt at his constant proximity. She did her best to reassure him any way she could that he had nothing to worry about, all the while hoping that maybe she could convince herself of the very same thing in the process.

There had been no ducking out of his arms or dodging his kisses tonight. There had only been soft smiles and reassuring touches at all the right moments. Still, she couldn’t help that as she stood around the kitchen counter with her family - her attention had shifted, catching the subtle flex of Azriel’s forearms as he leant forward, his hands wrapping around the lip of the counter as he spoke to Cassian.

It was the smallest movement, barely noticeable, yet it triggered something in her brain that thrust her straight back into the memory that she’d tried and failed to avoid for the past few months. 

Suddenly, she couldn’t concentrate on anything else, unable to tear her eyes away from the familiar ridges and veins of his hands. The heat of Graysen’s palm flat against the middle of her back faded into nothing as she remembered the taste of cinnamon and cream. Remembered the way she had once been perched on a counter so similar to the one they were currently standing around. The easy way Azriel had slotted himself between her knees, her dress rising up her thighs. The feeling of his fingers dragging up her legs until they slipped under her hem. The gentleness with which he’d touched her. She swore she could feel his breath against her neck. Swore she could hear the things he’d whispered into her ear that night. 

“Helloooo… Earth to Elain!” Feyre’s voice brought her back to reality, her sister’s hand waving in front of her face as Elain’s vision cleared and she attempted to remember where the hell she was and what she was doing. “I asked if you wanted another drink?” 

Elain could only nod, afraid of how her voice might betray her if she attempted to speak. It didn’t help that she was all too aware of the way Graysen watched her, blue eyes once again filled with the suspicion she’d been working so hard to keep at bay as he  tracked her gaze to the pair of hazel eyes that were now staring directly back at her from the other side of the counter.

She readily accepted the margarita Feyre handed her, not wasting any time before downing half of it in one go. She’d never needed a drink more in her entire life. 

… 

Azriel stood directly outside the kitchen. He hadn’t turned any lights on when he’d wandered out a little while ago so it was just him, the stars, and the tiny smoldering ember of amber light flickering at the end of the lit cigarette slotted in between his index and middle finger.

He was utterly exhausted, eyes bleary as he tried and failed to link the stars together to form a constellation. He’d tried to fall asleep but he was too distracted by racing thoughts of the way Elain had looked at him from across the kitchen counter. The fleeting want that had appeared in her eyes - there and gone in a second, a lingering blush on her cheeks the only evidence that he hadn’t imagined the whole thing. He told himself it was just the margarita in her hands that had caused the sudden rush of heat to her cheeks but he knew her better than that. He knew all her tells. 

That’s why it had hurt even more to see her disappear down the hallway and into her room, her piece-of-shit boyfriend in tow. Azriel didn’t know how long he’d lasted laying in bed before he’d gotten back up and stumbled outside, too paranoid about each and every noise that he could hear from the room that shared a wall with the one he stayed in each time he found himself crashing at Nesta and Cassian’s for the night. 

If Graysen had been annoying at Nyx’s party yesterday, he’d been ever worse this evening because he’d scaled up the charisma and had seemed hell bent on befriending Azriel only to then become increasingly quietly irritated when Azriel made it clear that he was completely disinterested in anything that even remotely hinted at any sort of camaraderie.

He’d also taken to being even clingier with Elain. Hadn’t given her even a second to breathe all night, trailing behind her every chance he got, pulling her back into his side any time she strayed more than a few inches away. Even stranger, Elain had seemed intent on appeasing him and had stayed faithfully by Graysen’s side the entire time. She hadn’t even disappeared for a moment alone with Feyre and Nesta to talk about whatever the hell those three talked about whenever they were left alone together. All Azriel knew was that it usually resulted in raised voices, either in the form of an argument or incomprehensible half sentences interrupted by high pitched giggles as they all spoke over each other. 

Azriel saw Graysen’s overbearing behaviour for what it was - insecurity. 

Insecurity that came with a front row seat to the realisation that his prized girlfriend had an entire life before him. Without him. That she had family and friends that cared about her. 

Azriel had a feeling Elain’s life in Meadowview revolved heavily around Graysen. They probably spent time with his friends. Went to his favourite restaurants. Did his favourite activities. He wondered if she’d managed to retain any part of herself when she was halfway around the country, isolated in a bubble with Graysen, with no real escape other than her job. 

Maybe it wasn’t fair to jump to conclusions, to assume that she hadn’t been able to maintain a sense of self. He hoped for the best, desperately wanted to be wrong, but he knew her too well to know that he most likely wasn’t far off.  

He wanted to talk to her about it to try and decipher for himself exactly how she was doing but he hadn’t been able to get her alone - either because she’d been avoiding him or because of the five foot ten, blonde, walking trust fund  who’d been glued to her hip for the past eight hours. 

That’s why when the lamp in the kitchen switched on, the soft golden glow illuminating the window over the sink, it felt like a prayer was answered. 

He didn’t know exactly how he knew that she’d been the source of that light or that she’d be the one to walk outside but he knew when he turned to look, she’d be there - hair gilded by the light behind her. It was something about the gentle way the storm door creaked open, the feather light footsteps against the wooden floorboards. Something about the even, familiar rhythm of her breath.

He’d managed to get in one last deep drag of his cigarette before she was standing beside him, close enough that her arm brushed his. She reached up, lazily taking the cigarette from his fingers. She studied it and for one singular moment, he wondered if she’d surprise them both and take it between her lips. But this was Elain and so all he could do was huff out an amused laugh as she frowned, letting the cigarette fall to the floor until she could snub it out with her slipper covered foot. 

“Filthy habit,” Elain muttered. 

It was only then that he really allowed himself to look at her. He was thankful for the little bit of light from the kitchen lamp as his eyes traveled from her feet and up her bare legs to the hint of lilac shorts that he could only see the ruffled hem of because they were largely covered by the sweatshirt that fell right down to the top of her thighs. 

It was a Velaris University sweatshirt that at one point had been black but now resembled a faded gray and included a smattering of tiny holes around the stretched out collar. That sweatshirt had been missing from his closet for the better part of a decade. She’d had it in her possession for so long that Azriel wasn’t entirely sure that she would even remember who its original owner had been. It’s why he didn’t let himself read too much into her wearing that particular sweatshirt while sharing a bed with someone else. 

His eyes continued their journey upwards, over those full lips and the perfect slope of her nose. All the way up to drowsy, brown eyes and the tousled hair that he hoped and prayed was just the result of a restless night’s sleep and not the other option that sprung  to mind. 

Her eyes were fixed on him, clearly drinking in the sight of him just like she’d done when he’d first walked into Nyx’s party. 

There was a beat of silence between them, neither of them really knowing where to begin now that they were alone together. 

“Hi.” Her voice was barely a squeak, nervous and high and he couldn’t stand it. Hated this awkwardness between them. Hated that she felt any level of unease around him. 

“Trouble sleeping?” He raised an eyebrow, offering her a slow, sleepy smile that he hoped would work to put her at ease. 

Satisfaction settled in his chest when he saw her shoulders relax a little, at least a fraction of the tension she held within her melting into the night. 

He fought the urge to reach out and touch her, to place a hand on the back of her neck and slide his thumb around the knot he knew he’d find there. He resisted the temptation to tuck her hair behind her ear so he could see her face without it being half hidden in shadows. 

“Yeah,” Elain nodded. “Couldn’t get the fan to work and I need…”

“The white noise,” Azriel finished for her, another wave of satisfaction flowing through him at the first upward tilt of her lips. 

“What about you?” Elain asked, her gaze still focused straight ahead. “Trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that,” He replied, schooling his expression into one that would hopefully hide the real reason he was awake. “At least it worked in my favour this time.”

“What do you mean?” 

“It means that I’ve been trying to get a minute alone with you for two days now.”

“Oh,” she bit her lip. “Well, yesterday was so busy with all the kids and then tonight has been a lot as well…• 

“Yeah,” Azriel laughed, leaning into her just enough for his arm to press against hers. It was meant to be an innocent, playful touch yet it still managed to send a spark straight down his spine. “It was the kids that were keeping us from talking and definitely not because you’ve been actively avoiding me.” 

“I didn't think it would be so obvious,” Elain groaned, glancing up at him from the corner of her eye. “I was hoping you wouldn't notice.”

“I notice everything about you, Lain.” He adjusted his stance slightly, pivoting at the waist so he was turned towards her. “Always have.” 

There was another second of silence as she looked away from him, nervously running a hand through her hair. “You can’t say things like that.”

“It’s true, though.” He shrugged, choosing to move on with the conversation before she could ruminate on that any further.“How have you been?”

“Thought you noticed everything about me.” He could practically hear her smirk even through the sleepy rasp of her voice and he loved it. Appreciated the fleeting moment of playfulness. Of normalcy. “Shouldn’t you know the answer?”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“I’ve been good,” Elain still didn’t look at him. Her eyes were focused steadily, stubbornly ahead. “Meadowview is good. Work is good. Everything’s good.”

“Say good one more time and maybe I’ll believe you.” He hadn’t missed that she’d neglected to mention her boyfriend.

“Funny,” she rolled her eyes. “How have you been?” 

“Fine,” he shrugged. Then, before he could stop himself he asked her one of the questions that had been haunting him since last night. “Why have you never told me you didn’t like when I called you  ‘Lain?’” 

Elain paused, her brows furrowing. She clearly hadn’t expected that question from him. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Last night… Graysen said that you didn’t like it when he called you that. You said that you preferred to be called ‘El.’” 

She ducked her head, the bridge of her nose wrinkling as she looked down at her feet. A surefire sign she was embarrassed by something. “I only like it when it’s coming from you.” 

He bit back a smile, rocking back on his heels in an attempt to dull the sudden rush of emotion he felt at her admission. 

“Thank god.” He pressed a hand to his chest in a show of relief. “I’ve been worried that I’ve been unknowingly pissing you off for the past ten years.”

Azriel chuckled, teeth dragging over his lower lip as she turned to look at him. She gave him a wry smile and a shake of her head and though he wanted to live in this moment forever, he couldn’t put it off any longer, there were far more pressing matters to discuss.

“Lain,” Azriel let out a breath, his smile slipping into something more serious. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “If you’re upset or if I misread the situation that night, I’m sorry but just tell me so I can -”

“Azriel, we can’t.” She whispered, cutting him off before he could even get out everything he wanted and needed to say.

“What?”

“I can’t… we can’t talk about this.” Her voice was strained, her hands twisted in the cuffs of her sweater.

“We have to talk about it, Elain.” He insisted. “It’s been months of silence and we can’t keep going like this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she swallowed, shoulders once again tensing as she turned to face him. 

“You can’t be serious,” Azriel couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice. 

Even with such scarce lighting, he could see the blush that crept up her neck as she defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“Nothing happened. It’s fine.” Elain said, her voice low. “It was just sex. We got caught up in the moment and that’s all it was.”

“Just sex,” Azriel shook his head. “You wouldn’t have left and stopped talking to me if it was just fucking sex.” 

He’d always prided himself on maintaining a mask of cool composure around other people but it always seemed to falter around Elain. He couldn’t hide from her. Had never felt the need to. This was no exception.

“I didn’t -”

“Don’t.” He interrupted her. “Whatever you’re about to say about not cutting me off or about things being fine between us, it’s absolute bullshit and you know it.” 

“Azriel,” Her voice broke, splitting his name into two halves. “I shouldn’t have left and I know that and I’m sorry but I just can’t…”

“Do you regret it?”

“What?”

“Do you regret it?” He asked again, making a point to look directly at her. “Sleeping with me. Do you regret it?”

Azriel watched as she closed her eyes, one hand of hers coming up to clutch at her necklace as she took a deep breath. It felt like a lifetime before she finally spoke. 

“I only regret it in the sense that I can’t stop thinking about it.” He could barely hear her over the crickets and the frogs and whatever other nocturnal creatures occupied the field around his friends’ home. “I only regret it because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t make sense of her saying exactly what he’d hoped but never dreamed that she’d go as far as admitting it. Suddenly, he didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. It was involuntary, really… the way he reached for her. One arm extending, his hand mere inches from her hip. The tips of his fingers just grazed her sweatshirt before she stepped back, just out of his reach. 

“Az.” The pounding of his heart came to an abrupt stop in his chest as he watched her eyes fill with tears. “It happened and it was good and I promise you I don’t regret it but I can’t do this. We just can’t…” 

“Just tell me why you left then, Lain.” He pleaded. “Full, complete honesty. I just want to know why you left without saying anything. I thought - everything was fine when I fell asleep.” 

“It doesn’t matter now, Az.” She wiped away a stray tear. “What’s it going to solve? What’s done is done.”

“It does. I need to know. I need to understand.” 

“I don’t know why. I wish I did but I don’t...” she started. “I panicked and then I realised how awful I’d been for leaving like that and I thought you’d be upset.” She took another deep, wavering breath. “I thought you hated me.”

Her voice was once again so small, so timid. It shattered every part of him. 

“Elain,” Azriel reached up and tugged at his hair just so he had something to do with his hands. Too afraid that he’d reach for her again. “If I were capable of hating you, this would all be a whole lot easier.” 

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, tears falling faster now. “I’m so sorry that it’s like this between us but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“I just want my friend back, Lain.” He said gently. “I’m not asking for anything more than to have you back in my life as my friend. I miss you so fucking much and if the only thing that’s stopping you from talking to me is what happened between us that night then we can forget it. If that’s what it takes, we can agree to pretend it never happened.”

“It’s not that easy. You know it. I know it. It’s been months and I can’t forget it.” She shook her head. “It’s just easier this way, Az. You and me… we just can’t be friends the way we were. Not right now at least.”

“You don’t mean that, Elain.” His nails dug into the palms of his hands. “I know that’s not what you want. Look me in the eye and tell me you mean it.”

He waited for her to seal their fate. To look him in the eye and tell him that she’d meant every word. That she really wanted nothing more to do with him. But she didn’t look him in the eye. Didn’t really look at him at all. She only stepped further back, her gaze fixed on some arbitrary spot above his right shoulder.

“I miss you, Azriel. More than you know.” Her voice broke as she began to turn away from him, walking towards the door. 

“Wait,” he followed behind her, his fingers closing around her wrist to stop her from reaching for the handle of the screen door. 

She didn’t pull away from him this time. Didn’t try to step back. She just twisted around to face him fully, her pulse rapid under his touch. 

“Do whatever you need to do.” The words left him in a rush. “ Go home, think about things. I can handle you being with someone else, I’ve done it for a decade… but please…. please don’t stay with someone that doesn’t make you happy just to prove a point to yourself or to me or to anyone else.”

There was another stretch of silence to accompany the crease that formed in between her eyebrows as she mulled over his words.

“Goodnight, Az.” She stepped forward, her chest against his. He released his grasp on her wrist  just in time to wrap his arms around her waist as she reached up on her toes and slung her arms loosely around his neck. Every part of her pressed against him for a split second. It was over before it began but he felt the cool, dampness of her tears against his cheek as her lips brushed his skin just once before she pulled back from the hug.

He let her go, his fingers slipping slowly from her skin. “Goodnight, Lain.”

Elain disappeared inside the house and the kitchen light flickered off a few seconds later. Azriel turned back around, sitting down on the porch step after pulling a stray cigarette and lighter out of his back pocket. He closed his eyes and counted to sixty. When he opened his eyes again, he was right back to what he’d been doing fifteen minutes ago, before she’d come outside. 

Once again, it was just him, the stars,and the dim light from the lit end of his cigarette. He didn’t know how long he stayed out there going over what just happened but he was still there, staring up at the sky and rehashing answers to questions he couldn’t decide if he regretted asking when the sun began to rise.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

For Multi-May!!

I so desperately wanted to think of a really great request or suggestion but know that I have the opportunity all of my ideas have vanished.

So instead, I want to ask for Stu & Billy poly!ghostface with a plot or idea that you've always wanted to write but never got around to. It could also be any other poly!ship you have That One Idea for that you just never had the perfect opportunity to write.

I'm essentially giving you a wildcard! I'm super curious if you have any ideas like that - Ideas that for some reason you just never get around to even though they plague your mind. Because I sure do.

- 🦇

Well Batty! This is such a fun one! I have gotten in the habit of always writing whatever I want for myself all the time now but still, I have had this idea for a long ass time and have never gotten around to it so thanks for the excuse! Your request is the second entry for Multi-May, Billy loving lingerie and my assorted thoughts about that, so let’s go!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.5K. Billy Loomis X Stu Macher X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Poly!Ghostface. No Pronouns Specified. Warnings: Established Poly! Relationship. Could Be Read As TBABTO Compliant. Fear Play. Knife Play. Banter. Dirty Talk. Spanking. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Softness. Feelings. Mid-Sex Introspection Kind Of. Domesticness. Creampie. Slight Overstim. Sloppy Seconds. 

—

I Love You Best In…

—

Billy Loomis has always loved lingerie, ever since the first time he found out it was a thing when saw something lacy and pretty and soft in a catalogue. The thing was, he wasn’t picky, he loved it all, whether it was cotton candy pink and fluffy, almost like a cupcake; or something tight, with straps on straps, criss-crossing over each other and black, as if ripped right out of a trashy goth themed porno. 

He didn’t care, it was all good. He even preferred you leaving it on, would love to just displace it, pull particular parts aside to reach what he wanted to, something about that made it feel better, rushed, hotter for him. He loved you naked, naturally, but there was something so appealing with the lingerie worn askew, and framing your best assets as he fucked into you. 

As soon as you found out that he had this weakness you of course exploited it at every single turn. You would wear just about anything, matching sets, thigh high stockings, once you found an obscenely short dress that was made of nothing but black fishnet and that poor piece of clothing was ruined beyond recognition by the time he was through with it.

He would ask, make requests from time to time but much more often than not it wasn’t necessary, you’d play dress up plenty without him needing to prompt you. He has seen you in all manner of differently delightful and debauched attire and various states of dress, so why was this the thing that did him in the most? Coming into the bedroom to find you folding laundry, his eyes dragging up your bare legs to see all you had on was that big slouchy white sweater that Stu loved so much and judging by how high the hem rose while lifting your arms, seemingly nothing else. Billy isn’t able to just watch for long, before need overcomes and he is sauntering into the room, he doesn’t bother greeting you verbally, instead letting his hands rest on your waist. How you jumped in surprise was endlessly satisfying for Billy, he never got tired of getting the drop on you, scaring you.

Your head turns and upon seeing Billy’s face you soften, shoulders dropping back down, you roll your eyes and sigh, “Shoulda known it was you.” 

“Who else would it be?” He asked and your head turned forward again, focusing back on folding the shirt that was in your hands. He leaned in closer, his chin resting on your shoulder, his hands sliding forward, over your stomach, holding you. He could really appreciate the soft material of the clothing item you stole from Stu, now being so close he could smell his scent lingering in the white fibres. He inhales deeper but tries to keep it subtle, if you do notice you don’t comment on it, instead answering the question he posed previously.

“Oh I dunno, maybe the guy who’s sweater I’m wearing right now?” You ask and he says, “Stu doesn’t like scaring you as much as I do.”

“True, not in the same way that you do at least.” His hands start to move, sliding over you, enjoying the sensation of the top sliding over your skin, “And how’s that?”

A hum before you say, “You like doing it like you just did, sneaking up on me, making me jump, and sure Stu does sometimes too but he prefers making me really scared, making it real and intense.”

His head lifts and he leans over your shoulder, getting a better look at your face, “You want to share an example?” 

You give a small smile and with a shrug you pick up a pair of his jeans and start to fold them next, “Sure, like, last week, we were doing the dishes and at one point Stu picks up this big fucking knife I used to prep dinner earlier, right?”

He nods, his hands continue to wander, taking their time. “Mmhm, go on.” 

You do, “So he takes the knife and starts waving it around and bringing it close to me and it’s all fun and whatever but then he, like, pushes me into the counter suddenly.”

His hands move lower, the fingers on one of his hands catch the bottom hem of your sweater, starting to drag it up, and the other starts to run over the newly exposed skin.

You are still talking, “He’s got a hand on my throat and the knife is so close to my face and he is giving me that look, you know it, like he is hungry and manic, And he’s saying all these terribly threatening things in that low sweet tone with that big fucking grin and it’s-”

“Terrifying?” He asks, his own smile clear in his tone, as his hand slides between your legs and you sigh out, head tipping back, “Very.”

He starts to touch, slow and easy and he asks another question, “And then?”

Your eyes fall closed and you tell him, “And then he just stops, just backs off and laughs like it is some big joke and he’s back to normal and I’m left reeling and have to go back to doing the fucking dishes.” 

“Sounds like Stu.” He sounds amused. You are sure he is picturing the exchange right now and likes it, his fingers don’t relent, they become more focused, pick up the pace and the pleasant sensation starts to sink in and you nod with a soft moan, “Mmm, totally him.” 

You’ve abandoned folding the clothes, simply holding the denim in your grasp and just as you are starting to really sink into the feeling of Billy touching you, his hands are lifting up, instead he pushes you forward. You weren’t expecting it and fell onto the clean pile of laundry on the bed, his hands are back on you, resting on your hips, forcing them up, causing the sweater you had on to get pulled up in the process, exposing you to him. Turns out you did have something under Stu’s sweater but it is so small that only until now with you so spread and exposed can he see it properly. This is a newer piece, he’d been with you when you bought it, along with several other fun things, but he hadn’t seen it on you yet, sheer, delicate and white, matching the sweater with startling accuracy.

“Fuck, you look so good like this.” 

Oh you know that tone and know it well, guess this one is another winner, you bite back a smile, his hands are back to moving on you. One comes to a stop on your lower back, holding you in position, the other between your spread legs, touching you through the material and the extra friction it provides is good, you of course alert him to that fact with a quiet moan of his name. The touching you doesn’t last long, only until he sees the clear and visible wet spot spreading over and seeping through the thin white that barely covers your cunt. Soon enough he is pulling them aside, two fingers sink inside of you, curling and feeling, his thumb swipes over your clit and you clench around him. He groans at feeling your walls gripping at his fingers, he asks, “God, you’re this wet already?” 

“Mighta had a make out sesh with Stu before he had to get to class but we couldn’t do anything serious.” You admit and he praises, it sounded like he was smiling, “What a good boy he is, warming you up for me.” 

“Yeah he’s the best, isn’t he?” You agree with a small laugh that he returns and then Billy’s fingers are leaving you, his jeans are too tight, it is starting to border on painful and he needs you. The sound of his belt hits your ears next, unsurprising and you are not complaining. You had already been thinking about seeking Billy out for this very thing once the laundry was done, finishing what Stu started earlier, scratching that itch. 

He nudges you up the bed with a light smack landing on your ass and you do as instructed, you move up and he gets onto the mattress too, one hand on you and the other on the base of himself he lines up. He is rushing but he has to have you, about to fuck you on the clean pile of laundry with no care, he is in the right position and his hips press forward and he slides in easily. 

It’s dirty and it’s quick but it satisfies you both, the stretch of him feels fantastic with just that slight achy burn from him fucking you just a little too hard and just a bit too fast. He more than makes up for it, his chest to your back, hot breath in your ear, wandering hands and filthy words, broken praise among the strained sounds of pleasure, “God, so good, how-fuck-how are you, so, so fucking good?”

You loved when he was so into it, could hardly talk straight without letting out at least one moan or a curse, not like you were much better at the moment. 

Currently all you could seem to do was gasp out his name and your own series of swear words. He was obsessed with this, fucking you in this way, his treatment rough but the sweater you wore so soft, smelling like your shared partner, it’s like you were all wrapped up in Stu but still you. His favorite was sharing you with him but if he couldn’t be here then this was the way to fuck you, the reminder of his best friend, his confidant, his partner in crime unignorable. 

He loves this sweater, so many memories tied to it and just to Stu, his eyes closed and he is overrun with the times Stu and he were close enough that he could smell him, feel him, those precious first times that changed everything. Christ, why was this getting to him so badly? Making him so sappy and soft, seeing you, wrapped in Stu’s clothes, in your shared apartment, it’s domestic and sweet, honestly everything Billy has ever wanted. You in leather or lace is good, is hot, you in this though? It is a reminder that shit worked out, he has not just one but two people devoted to him, who love him for who he is, it’s stability and safety, comfort but still finding ways to keep things exciting even while feeling all of that.

It’s doing him in faster than he would like, he wants you to reach your end too, he rushes out, “Touch yourself.” 

He doesn’t need to ask twice, his hips snapping into yours, one of his hands reaching around, palming one of your tits through the sweater, the other still on the bed to help keep himself up right and your own hand shooting between your thighs. He cums before you do with a groan of your name, body tensing and him holding to the hilt inside but it doesn’t take much more for you to find your own end, nimble fingers stroke yourself just so and you cum with him still inside of you a minute after he does. 

Your walls pulsing on him post orgasm making him inhale through his teeth at the slight overstimulation that washes over him but he endures, it hurts so good. Your high finds its natural end and it leaves you both panting, trying to catch your breath, he pulls away first, sliding out and the amount of him inside of you spills out, that snaps you back to reality very quickly. You reach back, tug the underwear into place to try and stop the drip from making this worse, you sit up, look over your shoulder and you curse seeing the leaked mess of you and him on one of your favourite shirts, “Fucksake Billy, I just cleaned these clothes.”

He is tugging his pants back up and rolls his eyes, saying like it is obvious with a smile on his face, “So clean em again.”

Before you can get up to do that or protest further he is back on the bed and wrapping you up, pulling you down with him, you sigh, knowing that laundry is out till he is satisfied with cuddling you. 

You end up falling asleep there for a while and later on you find yourself back at folding the laundry. Billy was nice enough to wash and dry it at the very least before he had to go to a late class. Stu’s sweater needed to be cleaned, some of the hem got messed up and cum stained and it got pretty sweaty overall from how hard you were going at it, so you swapped out Stu’s sweater for this dark blue and white flannel shirt Billy favoured. 

Hearing the apartment door open and you call out that you are in the bedroom and in a minute Stu comes into the room to find you just about done with your task and he sounds delighted by what he sees, “Oooh well hello there.”

A look over your shoulder and you return his greeting, “Hello to you too.” 

“You still doing laundry?” He asked, clearly confused, “You were doing this when I left hours ago.” 

Laughing, you tell him as you turn back to his task, “Yeah, ask Billy about it later.” 

You hear him come closer, he leans down, kisses you on the cheek before telling you, “I’ll do that.”

“How was class?” You ask and he shrugs as he is telling you, “Fine.” 

He flops down onto the bed, the cleared space next to where the clean folded clothes are as opposed to on top of them, thankfully. He reached out and tugs on the bottom hem of the flannel, “I like you in Billy’s clothes.”

A grin spreads over your face and you joke, “Shocker.” The look on his face reminds you of the one back in the kitchen earlier that you told Billy. 

“I know, so predictable, right?” He reaches out, one hand locks on your wrist and the other tugs the shirt you were folding out of your hands, “How about we finish what we started earlier?” 

You sigh and toss the shirt aside, one of your knees comes down onto the bed, he rolls onto his back and you climb aboard to straddle him. His hands land on your thighs and as they run up the shirt is moved as well for you to be greeted with the clean pair of underwear you changed into after your post hook up shower with Billy, blue and not unlike the shirt you had on, you were in a matching mood today it seems. “Oooh, fuck.” 

A roll of your hips, grinding down, feeling Stu quickly getting hard in his pants your head lolls back the spike of sensation. You give into the moment with Stu, positive that once he has your panties off and sees how much you are leaking, realizing you fucked Billy earlier and he gets to have his sloppy seconds that it will be another fun and hot quickie. After all of that you are promising to yourself that after you ride him that you will finish this damn laundry, even if it kills you.

[springnote]

anasui breeding his female partner (you may add that he would make his partner pregnant) pls

oooh I think I went a bit insane with this one dkskwjwjajs I hope you like it!

Narciso Anasui x fem!reader smut

warnings: nsfw minors dni, breeding kink, piv sex, pregnancy mentions

You had been with Anasui for quite some time when you decided to bring up a certain topic, and only after you had an idea he’d like it. It wasn’t just because you thought it would be a kink he’d enjoy, but you saw the way he’d glance at families you’d see at restaurants or how you’d talk to wandering little kids at the park as you’d lead them back to their parents. He had even mentioned little things before like how cute he thought baby shoes were or that he loved seeing you with kids.

It felt natural when you finally asked “Anasui…would you like to have a baby?”

The look in his eyes, soft but also hungry as he carried you bridal style to the bedroom, sealed the deal.

You lay on your back as he thrust into you desperately, your legs over his shoulders and his forehead leaning against yours. He’d given you a resounding verbal “yes” to your question moments before undressing you both.

“You’re gonna be a beautiful mother,” he purred in between kisses. “I’m breed you til I’m certain you’ll get pregnant. I need to see you full of our child.”

You could only whine as he leaned down to nip and suck at your tits, his cock twitching as he added. “I’m gonna love seeing these tits swell up too, I’ll massage them every day if you like.”

“Anasui!” You moaned when he came in you suddenly, his hips stuttering against your own.

He stayed there for a minute, trying to catch his breath as he continued talking, insisting he’d get you anything you craved and would decorate the nursery too.

“You’re gonna be a good dad,” you smiled softly at him, petting his hair. “Do you wanna try again tonight? I think the sooner we try again the better.”

One look from his darkened eyes and a pillow propped under your ass told you all you needed to know about how your night was going to go.

Early the next morning, you woke up pleasantly sore against his chest. You both looked thoroughly debauched, covered in each other’s lipstick and hickies, Anasui looking only slightly less exhausted than you. He had promised to give you a warm bath and massage in the morning, and he hopped to it when he saw you were awake, while your eyes going to his phone he’d left on next to you.

You couldn’t help but smile when you saw his browser tabs on “cute baby names”, “maternity care”, and amusingly “is pink hair genetic?”. He had clearly been putting a lot of thought into all of this, and the idea of him with your own future baby made your heart soar. You then felt heat creeping up your neck when you saw the last tab, on an article about “best sex positions for getting pregnant”, just when he stepped back in the room.

“Did you think we were done?” He teased, his eyes heavy lidded once more. “I told you, I’m going to breed you and stuff you full of my cum til I’m sure you’ll be pregnant.”