#excuse the . in between paragraphs

[heloflor]

“Part two” of this post since I wanted to keep it positive but also have more things to say about comparing the 86 Anime and 2023 Movie:

In defense of the 86 Anime not being great and low-quality, the plot of the 2023 Movie is kind of a pacing mess too. Plus, I don’t care about the animation quality and, while I do enjoy good soundtracks, a bad one doesn’t really bother me that much. Those are “superficial” elements that, while making a movie more enjoyable and pleasant, aren’t that big of a deal for me.

For example, I actually find the soundtrack of the 2023 one to be one of the best things about the movie, and I can’t praise enough the work that went into researching and using the video-games ost while still keeping it fresh. My second favorite thing about this movie is how expressive Bowser is. You can tell when Nintendo plays around with his 3d model that they’re trying to make him expressive but struggle with it, so to see such an array of emotions from him is amazing. However, the fact that those are my two favorite things about the 2023 movie is not a good look.

I’m also not going to judge the voice acting bc for the 2023 Movie I don’t care about the og dub (watched it in french) and the 86 Anime is in Japanese which I don’t speak so I’m less focused on intonation and more on subtitles. Although I will say that when re-discovering the 86 Anime this year, the main thing I remembered from watching it as a kid is the way Peach says Mario’s name, and that’s not exactly a compliment.

Ultimately, I think the main difference between the two for me is that the 2023 Movie pisses me off due to how much wasted potential it was, while the 86 Anime is more of an odd relic from the past that’s definitely not great but still fun for what it offers.

And yes, I’m definitely being a lot harsher on the 2023 Movie than the 86 Anime. After all, the 2023 one was made decades after the franchise took off and is a high-budget project, while the 86 one is a small production made likely on time constrains and with little to work on. The 86 Anime was also made by a Japanese studio back in the 80s, meaning the comedy and story standards might not have been the same. For the comedy you can for example see it with the Mario Kun mangas having a completely different kind of humor than what you expect in the West. As a result, it’s much easier to forgive the 86 for its mistakes, while the 2023 is under more scrutiny.

For example, both suffer from a pacing problem, with 86 dragging on while 2023 goes too fast, on top of both feeling like the creators had a specific set of action scenes in mind but didn’t know what to put in-between hence the many montages and paper-thin story. The 86 Anime can be forgiven more easily since every level in Mario Bros 1 looks the same + there’s like 10 different enemies, so of course they’d end up forced to capitalize on those enemies, causing the travel to be rushed while the enemies encounters go on for too long.

For the 2023 Movie, it just feels like they got lazy, especially when the elements put to give the story more substance don’t get resolved/have no payoff (had Mario and Luigi fought a cat instead of a dog, it could’ve been great payoff with the cat power-up ; Peach is shown to be curious about the human world yet has no reaction when entering Brooklyn ; Toad is just kind of there ; most of the plot is about getting the Kong army who immediately gets kidnapped, meaning it was for nothing ; Mario is good at platforming in the intro yet his struggles with Peach’s course are written as if he’s never been good at it ; we’re never shown how does Bowser’s army gets all this intel on Mario and Peach ; since we see Mario eat a mini-mushroom and then getting bigger through a hit, it means all Bowser needs to do to escape at the end is punch himself ; the blue-shelled soldier never interacts with Mario yet is straight-up delighted about killing him, and there’s no mention of him doing it to get Bowser’s respect or a promotion so there’s no justification for him being this unhinged ; etc).

Now I could say from this list that the 2023 movie has more plot holes than the 86 Anime, especially when the 86 one does explain when they put those types of elements despite its overall weirdness (the Goombas following the brothers, the dog being sent with them because he’s Haru). But ultimately the 86 Anime has a lot less overall substance, so of course it’s going to have less plot holes since there’s less plot. Plus, the 86 Anime has a lot more instances of things happening "just because".

Another example would be 86 Luigi and 2023 Peach being OOC. In the first case, Luigi didn’t even have a personality back there, so he can’t exactly be out of character if there’s no character to begin with. Meanwhile in the second case this is a character that had been established for decades yet they couldn’t be bothered to even try, which feels incredibly insulting and it better not affect the games (you just know that had Peach kept her role as Mario’s guide/mentor while actually being written in character, we still would’ve gotten Wonder and Showtime. Hell had she been written properly we wouldn’t have had that worrisome box art change).

Finally, before people crucify me, know that I give the 2023 Movie an 8/10 as an adaptation and a 6/10 as an original movie. It’s a fantastic adaptation outside of the characters being more or less OOC and does an amazing job at bringing this world to life, on top of the references not just being for fanservice but also serving the story since the characters are in the Mario universe. But as a movie itself it’s really average and honestly deserves a lower score. Were it an original fantasy movie with no relations to Mario, you know people wouldn’t give it a second glance and praise the villain as the only good/interesting part. The reason why I’m not giving it lower than a 6 is because the movie doesn’t try to be anything special, it just tries to be fun, and it does deliver on being fun.

Ironically enough tho, despite thinking the 2023 Movie is a fantastic adaptation, I actually wouldn’t recommend it to someone who doesn’t know much about Mario and wants to learn its lore, as this movie takes a lot of liberties on that front (Toad Town isn’t a construction site, Peach’s castle is sometimes on a hill but not that high up, Cranky isn’t King of anything and is DK’s grandpa, while DK is incredibly important to Mario’s history hence him being in the movie he’s not present at all in the mainline games, Kamek isn’t a hype man but a sarcastic tired dad (granted this goes into the characters being OOC), Bowser doesn’t have a floating island but instead uses airships (which I’m genuinely surprised the movie didn’t use given they’re a staple of Bowser’s army, granted they probably wanted Bowser constantly on the move while still being in large rooms for the meeting and piano scene, both of which wouldn’t work on an airship), the Clown Car also tends to be used exclusively by Bowser and his children except for Bowser’s Neo City from Mario Kart, Peach isn’t the only human in this world since Daisy exists and we even see a desert that could be Sarasaland on the Toads’ map, the Penguin Kingdom was completely made up, Peach’s backstory was also made up, Foreman Spike is a one-off character from decades ago, The ToadTM and Captain Toad are two different Toads, things like that).

And while I’m at it: Mario: 8/10 original character, 6/10 adaptation ; Luigi: 5/10 character , 9/10 adaptation (literally the only reason why I like Movie Luigi is because I adore Games Luigi; but as an original character he’s completely absent past the Brooklyn scene so it would be hard to really care about him if the movie was an original piece) ; Peach: 7/10 character, 0/10 adaptation ; Bowser: 10/10 character, 6,5/10 adaptation ; I can explain these scores a bit more in a separate post if anybody asks.

[barelyevenwriting]

Day 2 Growth/Decay

It's a careful balance on a knife's edge. 

.

Swing between hollow and whole, 

Twisting paths and tales into hallowed halls, 

That cannot remember--

.

You used to be more 

Than a jumble of lying scars

-- or so you believed. 

.

You would never make it past your expiration date

So why bother? 

.

Why sink down roots 

There where seeded thoughts 

Come to reminisce and die?

.

You cannot be made out of lies, 

Because careful confection

Does not suit the bruised edges of your teeth,

And lies only work to tangle 

Futures and faiths together in time.

.

     Before truth unwinds the mass--

.

"It's not about forgiveness,"

You tell your body with careless swipes

Of unkind thumbs. 

.

You come undone, 

Festering in silence,

Rotting into dark corners 

where the eye cannot reach. 

.

Yet, you bloom in equal measure,

Begging the past to finally let go,

The green of your fingertips to listen and stay. 

.

You hold--

.

Desperate and (un)true--

For the passing of time to reclaim you,

To paint you back into vibrant blues and roses. 

.

You wither, 

                 And

                        Yet

           You                  grow.

[hellforcertain]

i've read the majority of michael chricton's books, and i can count the number of times he used a dialogue tag other than "said" on two hands

and honestly, every writer should do that as a writing exercise: don't use anything but "said" -- even for questions. even for exclamations. make yourself describe the tone, the body language, etc. instead. it's genuinely very fun

[ozzgin]

I just finished playing Firewatch and the cozy, lonely vibes gave me another monster idea! You got a summer job as a fire watch for the closest National Park. All you have to do is to sit in your tower, and...watch. For fires. Sounds boring? Worry not, your supervisor is there to keep you company over the radio. Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior, suggestive ending

"And? What are you running away from?"

"Excuse me?"

You raise your eyebrows at the unexpected question coming from the radio. The deep voice belongs to your supervisor, the man who'll guide you throughout your stay at the National Park.

"No one picks up an isolated job in the mountains out of sheer desire. Especially someone as young as you." He chuckles briefly, then resumes in a more professional tone: "My apologies. You don't have to answer that."

What a strange way to begin the conversation, you think to yourself. Yet this nonchalance and casualty is all you have for the following months. The other watchtowers don't talk much, if at all. You're entirely alone in the wilderness, save for the mysterious man on the radio.

Slowly, you begin to warm up to his chatty nature. He likes to ask a lot of questions. A terribly curious individual, though you can understand his reasoning: he's been working for the Park for over a decade. How does one survive without another human being?

He never leaves his tower, and thus you've never seen his face. He's content, you're indifferent. Occasionally, he'll mention sketching you to pass the time.

"How would you describe your eyes, (Y/N)?" he'll ask between his pencil scribbles. "I see. I'm sure they're beautiful. Why are you suddenly quiet? Have you forgotten how to take a compliment? I'm just messing with you, kiddo."

You haven't witnessed a single fire since coming here, despite the torrid summer heat. Your days are spent hiking without aim and talking to your supervisor.

One morning, you wake up to the grating beep of the radio instead of your alarm. You pick up the small device with an irritated grunt.

"Would you like to meet?"

You need a moment to process the words. Are you finally going to greet the one man who's kept you distant company for weeks? Intriguing. You mumble your agreement, still half-asleep.

As you make your way down the hill, you notice a supply station covered in moss and overgrown vegetation. You check your map, just to be sure. There shouldn't be anything here. What a peculiar thing to stumble upon. You approach the old wooden box and lift the lid carefully.

The musty inside is filled with rows of newspapers and some scattered notes. You pluck one newspaper out, and rest your eyes on the first headline.

"National Park is saying goodbye to its employees. The area will be permanently closed after the devastating fire."

You gawk at the title, then at the photographed location.

It's your watchtower.

You scramble to read the rest of the paragraphs, words slipping behind in your frantic search. This forest has been sealed off for years. You recognize the name of your supervisor in the report: a father of three, loved by everyone, died tragically before a rescue team could reach him.

"Found anything interesting, kiddo?"

You turn around with mild hesitation. Whoever this impersonating maniac is, or what he wants, is rather irrelevant at this point. You're trapped alone with him.

Across from you stands a creature, resembling a chimera more than a human being. Long, grotesque limbs ending in black claws, hollow eyes, and mangled rows of razor-sharp teeth put together in a grin. Monstrous.

You're out of breath.

"That looks great", the creature remarks cheerfully.

"Don't use my voice to talk. It's embarrassing to hear myself like that", you lecture it as you spread out the food onto the picnic blanket.

It switches back to the supervisor's soft, masculine tone.

"Sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."

The monster extends one bony hand over your head, fanning out the fingers and dragging them across your hair in gentle strokes. What a precious little human you are.

You did not run away. A terrifying thought: losing you after all the time spent together. It didn't want to chase you down and make it even worse for you. But you stayed, you truly did.

"By the way", you say as you bite into your sandwich, stretching out your legs. "Is it you who prevents the fires? Usually it's a common occurrence here, especially in summer."

You recall the scorching flames from the newspaper.

"Yes. To keep you safe, you understand."

"Not only did you lie to me about the job, but you kept me out of work, too", you whine. "I got bored to death! Days on end!"

You're suddenly pushed down into the blanket, and you stare into the spiraling, empty sockets, confused.

"I can entertain you to your heart's desire, (Y/N)."

Its snout widens in a flirty smile, releasing a bizarre succession of clicks. Is it laughing in its natural voice?

You blush.

"I suppose there are some ways..." you suggest cheekily, unbuttoning your shirt.

[More Monsters] | [More Original Works]

[tired-biscuit]

Wolverine seeing people are into the whole "mark me so people know you're mine" stuff and he ends up biting your shoulder so hard in the heat of the moment you have to go to the ER and end up with stitches lmao

18+ MDNI, fem!reader

i imagine it’s you who suggests that you incorporate it in bed, but logan being logan, he’s immediately shutting you down with the excuse that he (preferably) wants to keep you alive after he’s done having sex with you, and is refusing to continue the conversation despite the fact that you’re shoving the smutty book that you’d been reading right into his grouchy face, furiously trying to point to the paragraph where the specific scene is unfolding.

you huff and give in eventually — it’d be nonsense to keep hitting your head against a brick wall, after all. however, later that same night when he’s got you underneath him again; naked and burning hot, moaning nonsense and wiggling your hips in time to the rough swing of his… you’re starting all over again.

in your half-delirious state, you’ve somehow ended up begging him to do it. and to make matters even worse: you’re so fucking desperate with it. clinging onto his broad shoulders, using your whiny voice, looking up at him so pleadingly while those pretty tears keep on glimmering inside your eyes but never quite manage to spill down your heated cheeks. using all your weapons.

and fuck, that’s not all of it either. he can feel your pussy squeezing around him, trying to milk him as yet another form of persuasion. wet and hot and persistent. sucking him in, making his balls tighten and his thighs clench to the brink of pain so that he can refrain from spilling into you too soon. it makes his brain glitch; makes it switch to something a bit more animalistic and not nearly as cautious as he’d like it to be.

so he sinks his teeth into you to make you stop, to make himself stop. he sinks them in deep.

the taste of your blood that coats his tongue afterwards makes his stomach twist with a weird mixture of regret and excitement. he knows how to patch you up — quite fast, too — but he’s so worried about the entire situation (that he, himself has allowed to escalate) that he still forces you to pay a visit to the hospital anyway.

by the time you’re allowed to go back home, he’s trying his hardest not to be moody and act like an ass about it.

still, even with the ‘little’ mishap, the look on your face seems to be oddly satisfied as you sleep cuddled up extra closely to him that night — one reason behind it being that you have to share a pillow now because he’d accidentally shredded yours the moment he came and his claws pushed out from between his knuckles without a single warning.

and that causes him to worry even more.

[beenbaanbuun]

cockwarming w/ san

words - wordcount? not round here, partner 🤠

genre - fluff, nsfw

warnings - stressed!reader, dom!san, sub!reader, subspace, guidance, soft!san (both him and his penis), cockwarming, clothed, san manspreading…

——————————————————————————

thinking about cockwarming sannie… am i absolutely feral? definitely! ANYWAYS!!!!

you’re sitting on the floor, glasses slipping down your nose as you stare at the documents in front of you

not many of then make sense, but that could just be the tediousness of reading them setting in and slowing down your weary brain

all the words are moulding into one and entire paragraphs are jumbling together as you desperately try and focus

you so desperately want to reach for your phone and give yourself a break

but you remind yourself that you’re just looking for distractions which is really not what you need when you’re struggling to focus anyway

so you start from the top, attempting to read the paper from the beginning

and you don’t get very far when you hear the front door open and your attention once again slips away from the paper

you turn slightly, just enough to see san step into the apartment and take his shoes and coat off

the way his shoulders sink in relaxation is visible and he lets out a long, deep sigh of relief at finally being home

your papers are almost forgotten as you watch him make his way towards the armchair in the corner of the room and take a seat

in fact, as he relaxes, spreading his thighs out until there’s a perfect you-sized gap between them, the papers are the last thing on your mind

“hi, pretty,” he croons as he shuffles to get himself comfy, “good day?”

you nod, mouth going dry at the way his hand naturally falls to rest just inches from his crotch, his pretty fingers flexing a few times before settling against his thigh

his beautiful, thick thigh that is almost fully exposed by those little gym shorts he insists on wearing

you stare at it for a moment or two, noticing the way it flexes slightly against the hem

his honey skin is still slightly shiny from the residual sweat of his evening workout

just the thought of him using his pretty thigh muscles to lift himself up from a squat is enough to send your brain into a dizzy haze

“looks like you’ve been working hard,” he smiles, head dipping to gesture to the pile of forgotten papers on the table, “is that research for your thesis?”

it is, you think to yourself, not that you’d actually learned anything from reading, sorry, trying to read any of it

“yeah,” you answer him, “but it’s all so boring than i can barely even look at it without wanting to die. i’ve been at it for hours and i can’t tell you a single thing i’ve read.”

there’s a pout on your face as you mumble out your complaints; you’re adorable when you’re all moody like this

“learning isn’t linear, baby,” he chuckles, “the fact that nothing’s sticking in that little brain of yours probably my just means you need a break.”

“i’d love a break,” you admit, “but i’d also love to get through this pile of research by the time we go to bed, so…”

“so… take a break and go back to it later,” san shrugs, “not like all that paper is suddenly going to grow legs and run away, right?”

you scoff at his sarcasm and the smug look on his face, but you know he’s right; you probably should take a break…

“but i know if i take a break i won’t want to do it anymore,” you say, although the excuse sounds weak even to you

“then do it tomorrow; it’s not like it needs to be done tonight, honey,” and he’s right, so you nod, and he smiles

but the feeling of stress doesn’t go away as you pile up the sheets of paper in the centre of the coffee table

and it doesn’t go away as you save your thesis draft and close the lid to your laptop

your shoulders are still very stiff, and your head is still feeling weary from just how hard you’d been trying to focus

even when you slip your glasses off, a physical weight lifting from your face, your brain doesn’t slow down

it just doesn’t let you settle like you and san so badly want you to

he watches you fidget with your surroundings, eyes flicking to the pile of papers every so often whilst your fingers drum against the table restlessly

he sighs; clearly you’re going to need some help with this

“baby,” he says softly; you look at him and all he can see is stress written across your features, “do you want me to help you relax?”

your eyes flick over to him, still manspreading in the chair and looking the the picture of masculinity itself

you know it wouldn’t take long for him to silence your brain; not when he already has your brain feeling a little on the foggy side

you nod, mumbling out a small ‘please’ that he can barely hear

“come here then, baby,” he pats the inside of his thigh with his palm, the sound ringing around the room, “come sit with me, yeah?”

it takes a second for you to register what he’s asking you to do, but when it finally does, you feel your breath hitch in your throat

he hasn’t closed his legs for you to sit on, and the hand that rests on his thigh doesn’t shift to make space for you

why would it when there’s already a you-shaped space between his thighs?

you watch as he reaches behind him to grab the cushion from the chair, pulling it out and placing it on the floor between his feet

you cant stop the soft whimper that leaves your throat

“come on, pretty thing,” he coos, “you know it’ll help you.”

and you do know that, you really do

it’s exactly the push you know you need to take your mind off of everything, and holy fuck do you want it

so you shuffle towards him on your knees, inching closer and closer to that spot that seemed to be just made for you

he smiles at you as he watches you settle in on the cushion, the plush material taking the pressure of the cold, hard floorboards off of your delicate knees

you shuffle around a little, trying to get comfy before looking up at him, wide eyes looking into his own

and he can’t help but brush a hand across your cheek, chucking as you lean into his gentle touch

“my precious girl, aren’t you?” he whispers, running a thumb over you cheekbone, “working so hard; you’re so good, aren’t you?”

he shifts his hand until two of his fingers press against your lips

you separate them to allow his digits inside of the warm, wet cavern; he can’t help but fill with pride when he sees just how good you’re being

the tips of his fingers slide to the back of your tongue, caressing it slightly until he feels your throat constrict around them

he pulls them back slightly, instead pushing them down on the centre of your tongue to make your drool puddle up around them

“just let yourself stop thinking, okay?” he says as he plays with your tongue, “you’re too stressed, baby, and it’s not good for you.”

he caresses your wet muscle with his fingertips; you let your eyes flutter closed at the sensation

“turn your brain off for me,” his voice is soft as he talks you down into an all-too-familiar headspace, “be good for your big boy, hm? let me take care of you.”

and with the combination of your position between his legs, the fingers in your mouth, and his pretty words, you find it so incredibly easy to just… slip away

any thought of your thesis is gone and replaced with san

the worries about finishing on time, and the concerns about the reading you don’t quite understand; san

everything is just… san

you let out a small sound as you push your head down onto his hand, taking more of his fingers into your mouth

the weight of them on your tongue was nice, you decide, but not quite enough

they don’t quite hold the warmth and heaviness that your tongue is craving

it’s not quite enough to completely ground you like you know you need

“you want more?” he always has been so good at reading you; you nod around his fingers, “want your big boy’s cock in your mouth?”

you moan at the thought, desperately moving your head up and down to tell him yes

“does my precious girl want to warm her big boy up? is that it?” yes, yes, a million times yes, “want to wrap your pretty lips around me while you relax, hm?”

he chuckles when you pull off of his fingers and sit there looking at him through your lashes with a slack jaw

so pretty, he thinks when you stick your tongue out and blink up at him through those fluttery lashes of yours

pretty enough that you have him wrapped around your pinky finger

he really would do anything to make you happy, and it seems that what would make you happy right now is him in your mouth

so he wastes no time in reaching for his waistband and pushing it down his thighs to reveal his soft cock

he takes it in hand and holds it out for you, waiting patiently as you lean forwards to press a kiss to his pretty pink tip

“no teasing, baby,” he taps the blunt head against your lips, “open for me. warm me up like a good girl.”

his voice is smooth and buttery, and it makes you want to listen

you open you maw, rolling your tongue over your bottom lip and waiting for him to feed himself into your mouth

there’s a hand at the back of your head as his tip makes contact with the pink muscle

the hand pets your hair softly as it guides you onto the cock, pushing you further and further down until your mouth is stuffed almost completely full

“breathe through your nose, baby,” san instructs you as he pushes the tip of his cock to the back of your tongue, “come on, pretty girl; i know you know how.”

you don’t need the reminder, having done this plenty of times before, but you still like the guidance he gives you in that low cadence

you like his voice, and the way he tells you what to do because he knows just how much you don’t want to think right now

you close your eyes as you feel your nose brush against the smooth, sticky skin of his lower stomach

his freshly shaved pubes prickle you, but that’s the least of your concerns when your senses are just overloaded by the comfort of your boyfriend

the smell of his cologne mixed with his natural musk settles in your nostrils filling you to the brim with the familiar scent of home

and the way he sits in your mouth, hot and heavy and full makes you melt against his muscular thigh like it’s your own personal pillow

his hand on your head threads its fingers through your roots, fingernails scraping against your scalp in the most comforting way imaginable

a deep sigh leaves your mouth; one of relaxation and contentment

san hears it and feels his body ease into the chair

“good girl,” he hums, “so good for me.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

It always points South - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Around 6 requests have come through with that cardigan and compass tattoo. I love it that you guys know what that tattoo does to me.

It's not a sequel/prequeal but it has the very same motivation I want South

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, (p in v)

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: +1K

a/n: It's not proofread. I don't think I've ever written a smut that fast, but it had to be done, blame Eric and Lewis.

a/n.2: Thanks anon that suggested Y/n using his cardigan for everyone to see, it's chef's kiss at the end.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

You stretched your back as you sat up on the edge of the king-sized bed, careful not to wake Lewis. The Monaco Grand Prix weekend was always a whirlwind of activity, and today was no different, but normal life was still happening, and you still had meetings to attend and errands to run, leaving Lewis to enjoy a few extra hours of sleep before his media obligations.

You kissed his forehead softly, whispered a quick "I love you" as you watched he stir and hug your pillow before tiptoeing out of the bedroom. Hours passed in a blur of meetings and phone calls. It wasn't until you had a moment to breathe that you checked your phone.

Notifications flooded your screen, all centered around one particular post.

There it was: a photo of Lewis, looking effortlessly cool and undeniably sexy in a sheer blue Dior cardigan, his chiseled chest, familiar compass tattoo on full display and a nostalgic caption that seemingly looked like had been written for any other post.

You couldn't help but laugh. Leave it to Lewis to try and deflect with heartfelt nostalgia and high fashion his own touch of cheekiness.

Without much thoughts, you shot him a quick message: “Babe, that paragraph on your Instagram doesn’t excuse how you’re showing your goodies to everyone in that Dior see-through.”

His reply came almost instantly: “What goodies?”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth as you changed the possessive pronouns to tease him. “My compass tattoo”.

The rest of the day passed by in a series of meetings and errands, but your mind kept drifting back to Lewis’s tattoo. You always had a soft spot for it, especially given how you often found yourself choosing "south". You wondered if he thought about it as much as you did.

Later that evening, you were back at the apartment, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing out your hair. You had just slipped into a robe, preparing to shower before the sponsor's party you were both attending.

The door creaked open, and you saw Lewis's reflection in the mirror, leaning against the doorway with a smug grin plastered on his face. “So” he began, his voice low and teasing “your compass tattoo, huh?”

You turned to face him, feeling a flicker of desire in your eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing with that outfit” you teased back, your voice sultry. “You’ve got half the internet drooling over you”

Lewis chuckled, crossing the distance between you in a few strides. “And the other half wondering how I managed to land you” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You laughed, playfully pushing at his chest. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Hamilton.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss. “Is that so?” he murmured; his breath warm against your skin.

You pulled back slightly, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t think this means you’re off the hook. That cardigan was basically nothing”

Lewis’s grin widened. “It’s fashion, love.”

You rolled your eyes again, but your smile gave you away. “You did look incredible.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, and you melted against him, the day’s stress evaporating in his embrace.

“You know” he said thoughtfully, in between kisses “we don’t have much time until the party.”

You glanced at him, a playful glint in your eye. “I guess it’s a good thing those motorhome quickies have made us pros at time management”

You sneaked out of his embrace, letting your robe slip from your shoulders and fall to the floor as you made your way to the shower. The sight of you, completely naked and inviting, had him mesmerized. He quickly shrugged off his clothes, his eyes never leaving yours.

As you stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading down your body, you gestured for him to join you. “Aren’t you coming?” your voice a sultry whisper. “We’re going to have to multitask.”

Lewis didn’t need another invitation. He stepped into the shower, the heat from the water mingling with the heat between you two. He reached for you, pulling you close against his body, his hands trailing down your back, savoring the feel of your wet skin under his fingertips. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, despite the warmth surrounding you.

“Missed you today,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

He kissed you, deeply and hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth with a mix of urgency and passion. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles and the familiar compass tattoo that had occupied your thoughts all day.

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he kissed along your jawline.

“All day,” you admitted, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he nipped at your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you and that tattoo.”

“Yeah?” He grinned against your skin, his hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he lifted you slightly, pinning you against the shower wall “What about it?”

“How it always points south” you said with a smirk, wrapping one of your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Lewis chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire. “Good thing south’s my favorite direction.”

He adjusted his position, one hand braced against the wall, the other guiding himself to you. When he entered you, the stretch was as overwhelming as ever, a mix of pleasure and urgency that left you breathless. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move.

“Love, you feel amazing” he groaned, setting a fast, intense rhythm. “So tight, so perfect.”

“Just like that, Lewis.” you breathed, your voice hitching with every thrust.

He kissed you again, swallowing your moans as his pace increased, each movement driving deeper, harder. The water pounded against your skin, mingling with the heat of your bodies, creating your own sauna in the shower cabin.

“Do you like it when I wear things like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and heavy. “Showing off for everyone?”

“Maybe,” you teased, your hands tangling in his wet muscles. “But only because I know you’re mine at the end of the day.”

“Always” he murmured, his voice full of promise. “Only yours.”

You clung to him, your body arching into his with every movement. You moaned in tandem with his thrusts, your sounds a desperate plea as you felt yourself nearing the edge. He growled in response; his pace relentless. “Come for me, babe” he urged, his voice rough with desire. “Let me feel you.”

The tension coiled tightly within you finally snapped with his pleas and you came undone around him. “Lew” you cried out, your nails digging into any skin you could find.

“That’s my girl” he groaned, following moments later, his own release shuddering through him as he buried himself inside you. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”

Breathless and sated, you stayed wrapped around each other for a few moments, savoring the closeness, breathing into each other. The water raining down on you, washing away the evidence of your passion, but never the memory.

When Lewis finally set you down gently, his hands lingered on your hips. “We really are pros at time management” he said with a breathless laugh. You smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. “We should get ready before we’re late.”

He nodded, stepping back to give you space, though his eyes remained locked on you, filled with admiration and desire as you finished showering. “Can’t wait to see you in that dress,” he murmured, his voice full of promise.

As you stepped out, you caught sight of Lewis toweling off, his muscles flexing with each movement. The sight giving you a renewed wave of desire, suffocated on the knowledge that there wasn’t time for another round.

As you finished your hair and makeup, you started to apply lotion to your skin, aware you got that Lewis watched you from the corner of his eye, his gaze appreciative and heated. “You keep looking at me like that, and we’ll never make it to the party,” you teased, slipping into your dress.

He chuckled, fastening the buttons of his shirt. “Trust me, I’m tempted.”

The white linen dress you’d chosen clung to your curves in all the right places, you turned to Lewis, giving him a twirl. “What do you think?” His eyes darkened with lust and admiration. “You look absolutely stunning”

As you looked at yourself in the mirror a thought popped up, and the glint in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed as he watched you reached for his bags by the bed.

“Would you mind if I borrowed that?” You muttered already adjusting the blue see-through cardigan over your dress, his eyes sparkling with lust at seeing you wearing his clothes for the world to see.

“Love, everyone’s going to be looking at you tonight and I’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands off you.” He whispered as he checked your reflection in the mirror, arms wrapping around your waist.

You turned into his embrace, placing a hand on his chest. “We’ll just have to be patient, won’t we?” He held your gaze, a ghost of a smirk on his lips as he kissed just below your ears “I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge

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[shockercoco]

There We Go

Farleigh Start x reader

Warnings - 18+, fingering, overstimulation, drinking, farleigh being dominant when we all know he's not

Word count - 2366

a/n - this is my first time writing smut I wanted to give it a try, and it was hard for me idk how y'all do this lol. enjoy :)

Last night, you had your hands in between your legs scrolling through videos trying to find the perfect one, while Farleigh was outside smoking with Felix. You and Farleigh have never had intimacy problems, it’s just you having a hard time asking for or initiating the intimacy – even Farleigh has told you several times before that he’s always willing.  You hadn’t gotten too far in your journey when you started hearing those familiar footsteps outside the bedroom door getting closer. You hurriedly took your hand out of your pajama shorts, switched apps, and readjusted yourself like you had been lying like that the whole time. Farleigh opens and closes the bedroom door, kicks off his slippers, and crawls under the covers next to you.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks as he lays his head on your stomach and you just hum in response.

So now here you were sitting in a pool chair underneath the hot Summer sun watching Farleigh, Venetia, and Felix messing around in the pool, and you can’t seem to control your thoughts – mainly because you never got to finish last night. You throw your sunglasses on and try to distract yourself with the book in your hands and hope you weren’t making yourself obvious to him,  even though you could care less what Jane Austen has to say at the moment. You take a peak over the edge of your book and notice Venetia is talking to Felix, Felix is leaning against the edge of the pool with his head towards the sky not seeming to be really listening, and Farleigh is now swimming towards you.

You cross your ankles as if he could sense or see the arousal growing between your legs while he pulls himself out of the pool leaving the bottom of his legs to dangle in the water. Water drips off of him onto the concrete surrounding the pool and also forms into droplets on his chest and arms. Your sunglasses are pretty dark so you’re pretty sure he can’t see you checking him out.

“Are you okay over here?” Farleigh finally looks at you with his own sunglasses covering his eyes, and places a hand on your ankle. He always randomly does this, but at the moment you’re not a fan. You clear your throat before answering.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you ask looking up from your book as if you had been reading it the whole time.

“Just asking since you normally start complaining about it being too hot if you’re outside too long,” he jokes with a shrug of his shoulders. “As if we’re not all hot.” He now starts caressing your ankle, which any other time you would love it, but now all you want to do is push his hand off.

“Excuse you, you complain more than me. Plus it’s not too bad right now, as long as we get to go inside soon,” you say, looking back down at your book and start pretending you're reading again. You hear him let out a laugh.

“We’re going out into town for drinks later, do you want to come?”

“You guys are driving all the way out there just to drink?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“That’s what they suggested,” he tells you, referring to the two siblings still floating in the pool. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

“That’s the book I told you about, how is it?” he asks, still rubbing your ankle.

“It’s pretty good,” you answer not knowing what else to say and wishing the conversation would just be over.

“Where are you at in it?”

Oh my god.

You skim through a paragraph on the page and quickly paraphrase it for him. He gives you a look with a smirk on his lips, but with his eyes also covered in dark tint you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Or maybe he’s not thinking anything and you’re just overthinking. Once he eventually leaves you alone and goes back to swimming with Felix and Venetia, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

Later that night when you all are at the pub, including Oliver who decided to come at the last minute, you’re no longer feeling like your head is going to explode. Well, you do, but that’s just because of how packed it is inside the pub. Everyone in the bar has to raise their voice to communicate with one another, but no one seems to care. The group is several drinks in and are talking about the most pointless things, especially Venetia who is asking Oliver what color she should dye her already fried hair next, but you’re still enjoying yourself. Not Felix though, since he declared himself the designated driver because he doesn’t trust anyone else driving his truck. You’ve only had a couple drinks since you were never a huge fan of drinking to the point of getting drunk. 

Farleigh, on the other hand, is on his way there along with the rest of them, and is constant with his nagging towards Oliver. You nudge him every now and then as a warning and he gives you an innocent look every time. Thankfully Oliver doesn’t seem to mind – or doesn’t make it obvious – that he cares about what Farleigh has to say.

When everyone has decided they’ve had enough, you guys make the drive back and blast music loud enough to sober up an alcoholic. Felix, Farleigh, and Oliver don’t seem to have any problem screaming their lungs out to it. Venetia complains about the music being too loud, probably because the music is ruining her buzz,  and you just shake your head in amusement.

Once you guys arrive back at the estate, and do a terrible job sneaking into the house, everyone goes their separate ways. Felix helps Venetia to her room, Oliver stumbles to his, and you and Farleigh make your way to your shared bedroom. You tell Farleigh you’re going to take a bath to which he asks to join, and you decline. He whines in response and plops down on the bed as you head into the bathroom with a laugh to start running the bath water. 

After undressing and climbing into the tub, you lean back and close your eyes until you hear familiar footsteps enter the bathroom. You open your eyes and turn your head to see Farleigh starting to undress himself. Someone’s obviously sobering up.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” you sit up, obviously knowing the answer.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he responds. 

“I thought I told you no,” you tell him as he gets down to his underwear and shimmies them off. 

“Yeah, but this way we’re saving water,” he smiles like it’s the best idea he’s ever had, even though he uses this trick every time, and for some reason you fall for it everytime. Plus it’s obvious the Cattons would never worry about something like water.

Farleigh makes his way over to the tub, all the while you’re trying to avoid eye contact with his slightly hard length causing him to smirk. You roll your eyes at him as you make room for him, and he climbs in behind you making the water level slightly rise. Once he’s comfortable, you lean your back against his chest, and he loosely wraps his hands around your waist.

His fingertips tickle your lower stomach, reawakening that familiar ache you had earlier at the pool and last night that you didn’t finish satisfying. You hope he doesn’t notice your breath catching in your throat. Feeling him against your back doesn’t help much either. 

“See, this isn’t so bad,” you hear him say in that playful tone of his. You elbow him in his stomach, and you hear him let out a small grunt. “Hey, did you notice Venetia flirting with Oliver the whole time tonight?”

“It was kind of hard not too, I feel like she gets hornier when she’s drunk,” you say as you start to gently move one of your feet around in the water.

“Well, duh, doesn’t everyone? I’m just surprised she did that in front of Felix,” he laughs and starts to lightly rub your lower stomach..

“Speaking of Oliver, wh-,” you start, but Farleigh cuts you off.

“We’re not.”

“Speaking of Oliver,” you try again, “why do you give him such a hard time?”

“Because he’s weird.”

“You’re weird, Farleigh,” you angle your body and turn your head back to look up at him. He gives your side a little pinch making you jump and let out a giggle.

“You know what I mean. Don’t tell me you’re growing a soft spot for him just because of those big blue eyes,” Farleigh lets out a scoff.

“No, I’m just saying to ease up on him a bit. You can be a little mean sometimes.”

“Well, I don’t trust him,” he shrugs.

“Farleigh-.”

“Can we talk about something else,” he cuts you off once again letting out a dramatic groan and throwing his head back.

“Of course. When we’re done with this conversation though,” you give him a forced smile. He looks down at you and gives you a little glare. “Just say you’ll be nicer, and we’ll be done.”

All of a sudden you feel the hand that was grazing your lower stomach dip lower, and you feel a finger start to lightly rub up and down your slit causing you to tense. You widen your eyes once you realize what he’s doing, your jaw falling slightly open.

“Are you trying to shut me up?” you furrow your eyebrows at him, and he gives you a smirk. “The audacity.”

“Whatever helps.”

“Farleigh, I’m serio-,” you try to get out, but he starts to rub circles into clit. You hold back a moan that threatens to spill out from the sudden touch, refusing to let him win, even if this is how you wanted your night to end in the long run.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Farleigh-,” you try again, but this time he dips a finger in you causing you to let out a gasp at the intrusion, your eyes closing on instinct.

“Hmm?” 

You reach a hand down to wrap around his wrist as he curls his finger and starts to slowly pump in and out, but he uses his other hand to take it away and hold it. He adds another finger, still going the same deliberate pace along your walls on purpose to tease you. You bite your lip enjoying the stretch that his fingers bring, but still wanting to hold the noises in your throat back. Farleigh notices this and pushes his long fingers deeper into you, and then uses the hand holding yours to wrap around your waist holding you close to him. 

“If you want me to go faster, all you have to do is let some of those little noises come out for me,” he leans down and whispers into your ear. You love it when he does that, and he knows that, but you still didn’t want to break. “You know I saw you staring me down at the pool earlier.”

You knew it.

You feel his breath on your neck before he starts his trail of kisses making you clench your teeth. You make the mistake of looking down at his hand between your legs right as he finds his favorite spot on your neck, forcing a moan to accidentally slip out. You feel a smile form on his lips while they still attack your neck, and at the moment there’s a part of you that wants to strangle him, but you just give in to him.

“There we go,” he murmurs, and you finally feel his fingers speed up inside of you, causing your face to contort and lean your head back against his chest. He lets go of your waist using that hand to start rubbing your clit again, but this time rougher. This causes you to arch your back into him. If your body wasn’t submerged underwater, you guarantee you both would be able to hear your wetness with every movement.

Eventually, you feel your pleasure come to a powerful end, and Farleigh helps you ride it out as long as possible. You roll your hips into his hand until you’ve had enough, and just when you're about to motion for him to stop, Farleigh picks up a rapid pace forcing the water to start sloshing around. Your eyes widen and you let out a small squeal as you reach both of your hands for his wrist.

“Let go,” he says strongly.

“Farleigh,” you whimper, and it’s all you’re able to get out.

“Let go,” he says again, and this time you do. Instead you put one hand on his thigh and the other on the edge of the tub.

He continues his vigorous torture inside your cunt with you squirming and litterally gasping for air until you can both feel yourself gushing. But, of course he doesn’t stop there, not letting a beat pass. You bring your legs up to your chest with his hand still between, and he pushes them both back down. You let out a cry as he puts his legs over yours pinning your body to the bottom of the tub. It doesn’t take long for your third orgasm to come with a wail, and this time Farleigh stops.

Your heavy panting bounces off the bathroom walls as you finally have a chance to collect yourself, and Farleigh just chuckles from behind you. He slowly slides his fingers out and out of the water, but not before giving your clit a light tap, making you practically jump out of your skin.

“How are you doing down there?” he asks, as he wraps his arms around your waist. You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or genuine with your eyes closed, but at the moment you don’t care.

“Honestly, Farleigh, just stop talking,” you tell him, and he lets out a loud laugh that makes your body move against his chest.

[unholyhelbig]

Romanov smut??

[This is 18+, if you are a minor DO NOT INTERACT, I will report you.]

Title: Spin Cyle

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanov/Romanoff

Warnings: Top!Natasha, Dom!Nat, Definate Mommy kink, semi-public sex, swearing, fingering (R recieving), derogatory names, pet names, Dom/sub dynamic, finger sucking, slight bimbofication if you squint [lmk if I'm missing anything], horrible grammar.

Summary: Reader is working the overnight shift at the laundromat when a mysterious stranger comes in with motives that are clear from the start.

[A/n: And so what if I have thing for laundromats? They're comforting, okay? I like writing fluff but sometimes you just really have to get in there. ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Spic & Span was one of the only laundromats left in a city that swarmed around a university, so it was always teeming with people. Between classes, students with headphones on and powder laundry soap would occupy the tables that pockmarked the large space.

No washer nor dryer were the same; some were a beautiful turquoise, with rusted patches on the front. Others were a sickly olive green that had once been coveted among housewives. They all seemed to function perfectly despite their age; but it was your job to make sure they did just that.

The usual shift you worked was 8:00pm to 8:00am, and aside from the stray kid here or there, it was mostly a silent endeavor. Since starting six months ago you had torn through at least fifteen novels, and when you grew bored of that, you moved onto movies that would hold your attention until the small bell above the door sounded.

You’d learned quickly that when people were doing their laundry, they were looking for peace. It was a tedious chore and the last thing they needed was someone breathing down their neck. Sometimes, there was the occasional person who was looking to chat, which you obliged to eagerly in order to break the silence.

It had been a clear, but cold, evening when she first came in. With none of the machines in use, the only mechanical buzz came from the vending machine in the corner that offered up stale snack-cakes and off brand soda.

Out of habit, when the bell sounded, you leaned back in the office chair and peaked around the doorframe into the main space. You were designated to the small room that had a desk, and place to sit, but was mainly a storage closet. The mini-fridge was sidled up next to a mop bucket that smelled so thickly of musk, no one tended to use either.

The woman didn’t look familiar to you. Over time you had gotten to know the regulars, and you were certain that you would remember her. Even under the harsh overhead lights, you clocked her beautiful complexion, her focused green eyes as she dug in her pockets for change. Her hair was an electrifying red, lips pursed together in frustration.

She didn’t’ have a laundry basket with her, nor her own soap. It seemed as if she were entirely unprepared to do any type of wash, and that made your fingers twitch nervously. You watched, cheeks heating up, as she stripped her shirt off and loaded it into the machine.

Goosebumps rose on her perfect skin, yet, she didn’t’ seem to mind; and holy shit, she was sporting a tight pack of abs. She shimmied her pants off and you forced yourself to look away. This was wrong. Admiring a gorgeous figure was one thing, but you refused to let your eyes linger.

Instead, you went back to your book, reading the same paragraph over and over again. None of the words were sticking. All you could think about was the curve of the woman’s mouth, how good it would feel to have it kiss every inch of your body, leaving little bruises in her wake. You were hopeless.

“Excuse me?”

The book flew from your hands, crashing onto the linoleum as you placed both feet firmly on the floor. She had been quiet in her endeavor to find you, to find anyone. It was nearly unnerving how she had wandered over undetected.

She was clad in a black lace bra and a pair of sweatpants that hugged her tightly and left little to the imagination. The amount of skin she was showing didn’t seem to bother her as much as it had flustered you.

“I think the soap dispenser ate my quarters.”

“Yeah, yes, uh” You shot to your feet at a dizzying speed “it does that. I have… key.”

She lifted both of her eyebrows at you, and you swore that you saw her smirk. You scooted past her, and she made no attempt to move. You could feel her body heat, your front pressing against hers. You did your best to mentally scold yourself for the reaction your body had to the proximity of hers. She smelled like vanilla, like something more biting that you couldn’t place your finger on. The stranger tracked your every movement.

“Just you tonight?” She asked, voice lilted.

You hummed nervously in response before heading over the small manual vending machine that would dispense little packets of soap if you had chosen to use it on the right day. She followed closely behind you, and you felt her heated stare as you unlocked the case.

“Pick your poison.”

“Mm, what do you recommend?”

“Um,” You turned, her eyes were glinting mischievously, arms crossed over her chest. It  was almost painful keeping yourself modest in this situation. You refused to let them wander, but squeezed your thighs together to dispel the thoughts. “Tide.”

“You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?”

The woman reached forward and grabbed the suggested package. She didn’t’ wait for your response. Instead, she sauntered back over to her machine.

Your mouth was suddenly incredibly dry, and it was hard to lock the soap back up without fumbling. You’d dropped the keys twice before picking them up and succeeding in your task. Building up the confidence, you turned to ask if the woman needed anything else, but were once again, stilled in your movements.

She shimmied out of her sweatpants in a painstakingly slow manner. It was deliberate, you were sure, and if you weren’t than the salacious eye contact she made with you while straightening up and throwing her sweatpants in with the rest of her load confirmed it.

She was wearing the slightest bit of fabric in a black lace that matched her bra. Your eyes betrayed you, scouring her head to toe for any imperfection, but you found none. She was utterly perfect.

This had to be some type of test. There were hidden cameras somewhere and your overnight job that paid you a measly 7.50 an hour was trying to test your morals. This was the devil, and she was in lingerie, lilting her head at you expectantly.

“Damn it all,” She cooed, frowning down at the machine “It seems I don’t know how to work this thing at all. Every machine is different, you know? I might need a little help.”

Fuck.

You must not have moved because a few moments later she let out a breathy chuckle. “That is your job, isn’t it?”

“Certainly.”

She smelled like spiced coffee, something you caught a whiff of because she didn’t attempt to step back when you joined her. There was an immense body heat radiating from her, and you fought back a whimper when her hand touched the base of your spine. She was peering over your shoulder. She simply hadn’t pressed start- but you weren’t going to tell her that.

Instead, you savored the sparingly tantalizing touch and hit the button yourself. A low whirring filled the room. It was a sound that you were more than familiar with. The cycles of the washing machine were counted as easily as your own breaths.

“Dense, aren’t you?”

“hmm?”

You felt your cheeks redden as you turned to face her. Your back was flush against the machine, replacing her hand on your spine. You instantly missed her touch. She was so close to you now, but still took another step closer as if you could climb into the washer to avoid her.

“Sweet girl, I’ve thrown every hint at you in the book.” Her fingers came up to the collar of your shirt, dancing at its hem, right past the fabric until they left blazing trails on your collarbone. You clenched your eyes shut, letting out a shuttered exhale. “While I do love a woman with manners, must I ask?”

“I’m not sure I… understand.”

She whispered against your lips, not quite touching “You’re much too tightly wound, darling. Do you want mommy to take care of you?”

No one has ever asked you this before. Most of your partners, while satisfying, wouldn’t dare murmur anything close to what this stranger had just said. And you were much too shy to ask. Instead, you settled for spicy romance novels, and a magic wand that never seemed to itch that insatiable scratch.

“Don’t be so shy now. I saw the novel you were reading earlier. It’s just such a coincidence that it’s just the two of us here.”

Your forehead was pressed against hers and you stared into intense fern-colored eyes. God, you wanted her to take you right here, right now. There was something much too scandalous about fucking in the open, a feeling that you wanted to capture and savor.

“All you have to do is ask.”

You swore there was a slight Russian lilt to her voice. The more she got worked up, the more in was shining through. Her breath was quickening in pace with yours, the proximity of her making you press your thighs together to quell the excitement that threatened to drip through the fabric of your pants.

“Please,”

Her hand came up and gripped your chin in a fluid movement, manicured fingers squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. “Please what, Kotenok? What do you need from mommy?”

“Touch me,” It came out as a whimper that was much too desperate for you liking, “I need to feel you.”

An animalistic growl rumbled in her throat before she pushed her mouth against yours in a bruising kiss. You parted your lips, groans muffled by her tongue swirling around your mouth. She tasted like coffee, the same you had smelled earlier.

She reached down and ripped your shirt open, the pearlescent buttons popping away and scattering under the many machines around you both. You didn’t have much time to protest the destruction of your shirt before she palmed your breasts.

There was a mischievous look in her eyes at the front latching bra you wore. “Wow, you really are a little desperate slut, aren’t you?”

She unhooked and discarded the garment before you could get out more than a hungry noise. Her lips attached to one of your nipples, her hand grasping the other breast and giving it an almost-painful squeeze. You arched your back, pushing more of yourself into her hot mouth. Her tongue licked away the goosebumps raising against your skin in response to her ministrations.

You would have done just about anything for her at this moment, her fingers delicately ghosting over your stomach at the waistline of your jeans. Each shuttered breath pushed you closer to her.

In a swift movement she lifted you onto the top of the washing machine. You weren’t prepared for the bout of strength, nor the spin cycle that was happening below you. Another whimper escaped you and she looked at you with a wolfish smile.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t you dare think about cuming on top of an appliance.” She squeezed your hip and you took the cue to lift yourself enough for her to pull your jeans down and discard them with your panties. “Though, it appears your wet enough at the idea.”

A downright beautiful woman had you sweating and naked on top of a washing machine, promising to take care of your every need, no matter how salacious it was. Of course you were wet, dripping, actually.

Still, you flushed when she worked a single finger up your slit, testing it for herself. You shivered at the simple gesture, falling close to her. You felt her chuckle at your expense. “Mm, Kotenok, so desperate.”

Her thumb brushed against your cheek, you could smell your own sex on her fingers. She’d barely touched you, yet they were soaked. They traced your lips and you parted them on the silent command. There was a satisfied look on her eyes, at how easily you had folded for her.

You sucked her fingers, never breaking eye contact. Her stare was starving. “God, you’d look amazing choking on my strap, darling. I’m sure it’d stretch you out nicely.”

You groaned against her fingers, something that sounded along the lines of ‘fuck’ escaped you. Her other hand dipped lower, a gentle touch brushing against your clit. Your breath hitched, and you fell forward, you head on her shoulder.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you garbled, careful not to bite down on her fingers, but thankful that they muffled your expletives. “I want to cum.”

“Mm, but darling, you have to let mommy have her way with you, no matter how long it takes. That’s what good little whores do. That’s what toys do.”  

God, you’d do exactly that, anything to sate the need that made you want to buck desperately against the machine under you. It’s vibrations were slowing, but that didn’t stop your crude wanting to climax.

Without warning, the woman inserted a single digit into you. A gasp sounded around her fingers. She curled her touch inside of you and you pressed further into her. A fine sheen of sweat coated you both, the laundromat hot during the late summer night.

“You’re so tight.” She chuckled again, “Are you sure you can handle another?”

“Yes,”

“Yes what, pet?”

“Yes… Mommy.”

She was conditioning you with her words, and that much was clear, but you didn’t seem to care. This stranger had sauntered into your place of work and now had you under her full command with a few simple touches and an effective edging technique.

Another finger pushed into you, and you started to push down further into her. You weren’t sure what she saw in you that made her approach you like this. It had to be more than the novel, plenty of people indulged in smut. Maybe it was the desperation- your need to please in the most mundane of situations.

“Good girl,” she growled against the small of your neck, finally pulling her fingers from your swollen lips. You missed their taste, their feel against your tongue. “I’m sure you can handle a third, you desperate little slut.”

“I can,” You stuttered, tightening around her as she did just as promised. She flexed them inside you, drawing a whorish moan from the back of your throat. The woman started to pump slowly, at first, in and out of you until you felt something build in your core.

You hugged her close, the scratchy fabric of her bra pressing against your nipples, drawing them to points with their expert pressure. The sensation was phenomenal, something you never wanted to end. You hugged her close, your nails digging into the warm expanse of her back.

“Ask nicely, sweet girl.” She growled in your ear.

“Can I please cum?” You clenched your eyes shut, she quickened her pace, the word came out broken, but you didn’t care if you sounded like you were pleading, you absolutely were. “please. I’ll do anything.”

You could feel her smile against your shoulder “Go on, slut. Cum all over Mommy’s fingers.”

Her declaration was all you needed to finally give in to her attentive movements. The feeling that was building so deliciously in your core finally released in the most mind-boggling orgasm you had ever had. You silenced your own scream in her shoulder, but it could only do so much. You were thankful it was just the two of you in here, or your shame may have overtaken you.

She continued to pump in and out of you with her fingers, flexing and curling them expertly as you rode out your climax. You were shaking against her, nearly crying into the small of her neck when she pulled out of you entirely, wiping the slick on her fingers against your thighs.

Perhaps too kindly, she let you breathe against her for a moment, catching your bearings, her hand dragging against your bare back with a comforting amount of pressure. She was proud of herself, that much was clear in her movements. She knew in that moment that she was the best you had ever had; quite possibly the one person who you’d compare all the rest to.

The washer let out an unceremonious beep that had you chuckling, finally pulling back enough to see the woman’s face, shocked to see a bit of admiration behind her eyes. She lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at you.

“Hm,” she hummed, giving you a dazzlingly genuine smile. “I guess the spin cycle is over.”

[barelyevenwriting]

Day 10 Parasitic

It feeds off of you, 

The anger. 

.

No one would know you 

through vicious smiles like this. 

.

They have always believed you simple and mild,

Mere canvas soaking up the hours, 

Deep purples and reds 

Bleeding into your tender grays. 

.

They had believed you kind, 

Funny and numb.

.

Passions came to die at your hands, 

You would never want

           Another. 

.

But it feeds off of you, 

It festers and clings for more

             For others

             For sound. 

.

It demands that you speak.

.

Little mouse, open your hands, 

Let it all run free. 

.

Come along for the ride,

Let it all burn out. 

.

They cannot know, like this. 

The wasted hours on regrets. 

.

This is not all there will be. 

Bleeding off memories into watercolor paints.

.

Washed out and hollow, 

Until no one can tell that--

.

Is it all real? 

Is it okay to forget? 

.

It consumes you, the pain. 

It ties rope and sadness around your arms. 

It feeds off your need to be unknown. 

.

You think you are broken here, 

Tired and restless, 

You are hollowed out at your core, 

Seams bursting open with all that will never be. 

.

Let it all go now, 

Let the anger roam free.

.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

How to react to you longtime girlfriend regaining her angelic wings: a guide by Charlie Morningstar, proud girlfriend of said girlfriend.

Things you SHOULD do with her new wings!

Notice them! (this is easy bc they are BIG and BEAUTIFUL with the soft grey faded colors of an overcast sky right before it rains and gives you an excuse to stay indoors snuggled in soft blankets drinking hot coco together back when everything was simpler and safe which is exactly what getting folded up in them will feel like later and- what? oh right! The list thing, um-)

Complement your girlfriend's wings! Maybe don't overwhelm her with a whole paragraph just yet though. Saying "They look nice!" works perfectly good. (waxing poetic can wait until Alone Time)

GENTLY touch the wings. But not too gently!!! Maybe hold the upper joint place, like a little handshake hello. (the feathers are attached to very VERY sensitive bundles of nerves for feeling out air pressure and drafts and stuff, Vaggie says, but they are TOTALLY NOT TICKLISH supposedly and the reason you shouldn't run your hands across them all nilly-willy whenever you get caught up in how pretty and soft they are is it messes them up and means they need preening again to make flying work right, and THAT'S why she jumps and squeaks about it. She likes keeping things tidy! That's all! No other reason. Noooope)

Things you should NOT do with her new wings!!!!!

Blow a giant raspberry right between them, where the feathers get all small and super extra downy soft, just to see what will happen.

Do the above in the middle of maybe KINDA making out....?

Tell absolutely everyone in the hotel about it directly afterwards.

Thing you WILL end up doing if you complete the above list

Spend the night on the bedroom couch: because you keep remembering the noise she made during the raspberry blowing incident, and giggling yourself and her awake about it.

Wake up in bed anyway: snuggled in your girlfriend's arms the same way you do any time you fall asleep in the wrong place and she has to come find you and carry you back with her so SHE can get some sleep too- only this time she also has WINGS!!! And her wings tuck around you so warm and strong, you'd swear you've felt this every time waking up with her before- only now the feeling is all around you, instead of just wrapped around your heart <3

You're still sleeping on the couch tomorrow though: At LEAST for the first part of the night. Or however long it takes before you stop giggling over hearing your totally an angel very serious former solider and absolutely Not a BIRD girlfriend Squawk.

Things to KEEP doing now your girlfriend has wings again!

Try better next time with the rule following??

Hope you're doing okay so far????

Help her with the preening!!

Stop giggling. Somehow.

Staring at them and spacing out is also okay as long as you say you're "acclimating" yourself to the "sudden change in a core aspect" of your life when someone catches you at it. They won't believe you- But! They'll probably just roll their eyes and let you get back to the staring. Acclimating. Whatever!

Anyway, good luck to whoever needs this! Hope this helps things go smoothly for you, Cherri Bomb!!

Also- Angel Dust, if you've read this far, then PLEASE don't tell Husk. Me and Vaggie PROMISED him not to give you ideas, and we don't wanna get banned from the bar again :(

Sincerely, Charlie Morningstar, princess of Hell, Vaggie's girlfriend (!!!)

Note from Vaggie: You're doing great sweetie. And you're lucky you're cute when you laugh, even in your sleep. P.S. There's no 'supposedly' about it, my wings are NOT ticklshkSkk .... P.P.S. from Charlie: are you suuuure? <3 <3 <3

[thefaefiction]

In Too Deep. [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

PAIRING: Tom Hiddleston x Reader GENRE: Smut !! WARNINGS: Age gap, teacher x student relationship, smut, daddy kink, praise, piv sex, choking, degradation if you squint, aftercare, fem!reader, written with a chubbier reader in mind but it's not obvious, also the beginning is rushed SUMMARY: After developing an intense relationship with your English professor Mr. Hiddleston, you both are in too deep to let it go to waste.

A/N: im not gonna lie i had no clue how to actually begin this fic because it's literally just an excuse for me to indulge in my delusions so sorry that the first couple paragraphs are weird and rushed </3 also the school email domain is fake idk if it's real don't pay attention to it LMAO

Your obsession with your English professor was no secret to your friends. Elio, your long term best friend and dormmate, has had to interrupt you from your delusions on more than one occasion which was already one too many -- whether that be purposefully failing a paper to see him after class, wearing a skirt far too short and dropping a pencil in a calculated manner in front of him, or staring at him a little too intently during lectures -- it was becoming a problem.

In the professor's multiple classes of forty-some-odd students, there really were only a few that were delusional enough to believe they could sleep with their teacher. The difference between you and them was that you were patient with your actions and the effects it had on him.

Ultimately your patience paid off, as one Friday you received an ominous email with the heading titled 'Make-up Work' from a particular 'thiddleston@ccu.edu.' In the details, he simply requested your presence at a disclosed location only ten minutes from campus on Sunday. It was not an office nor a dorm, but a house.

It wasn't long before his intentions were made clear when you arrived; his eyes dark with lust and a half buttoned shirt upon opening the door.

"(Y/N)," He welcomed, cocking his head and shutting the door behind you. "Lovely to see you."

"Pleasure's mine," You reply, never breaking eye contact. You slide your coat off and he takes it in his hands, hanging it up for you. You knew where the night was going to end -- inviting a student to talk not just outside of office hours, but in the professor's home, is not something usual.

"I thought we could discuss an appropriate way to help get your grade back up in my class," He begins. His eyes look down for a moment, observing your obviously risqué attire. "Do you have an idea as to what way that might be?"

He was going to make you say it. There was no way around it. Still, you decided to entertain his antics until it was made painfully and obviously clear he was trying to get you to say what you know he wants you to say.

"I think," You start, voice beginning to shake. The confidence you had starting this endeavor was suddenly challenged. "I think one-on-one time is certainly needed." You press your lips together in a line.

He hums, taking an agonizing step closer. He looks down into your eyes, furrowing his brows and letting out a soft laugh. "I'm not dumb, (Y/N)," he retorts. "I know you're a smart girl. You're excellent, actually -- some of the best writing from all of my classes combined." The professor stops, taking a step back to his original position. "So why are you really here?"

A moment of silence.

"You know why," You sheepishly croak out.

"Flatter me by saying it, then." He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and waiting for you to speak.

"I want you to fuck me."

With the words already said, there was no going back. Your chest sunk, a feeling of embarrassment creeping up and beginning to eat away at your skin. All of those feelings were put to rest the second your professor spoke: "Was that so hard to ask, love?"

Professor Hiddleston turned on his heel, two fingers signaling you to follow him like a lost puppy. He led you down a long hallway in painful silence, finally twisting the knob to a door that revealed his bedroom. It was sleek and clean, covered in shades of black and gray with no mess dared to be left out.

He shut the door behind you and immediately began unbuttoning his shirt, holding your gaze with his light eyes. "Quickly," He commented. "I don't like waiting."

Your face flushed, embarrassed at his demand. You looked away and lifted the hem of your shirt-

"You will look at me," He orders, finishing the last button. "With how bold you are in my classroom I would've thought you'd take more control," He pokes, smirking. "Who would've thought you're just a shy little girl desperate for attention from her professor?"

Your thighs squeezed together, you're sure it doesn't go unnoticed as he grins the moment it occurs. You lift your top off as he watches, simultaneously beginning to unbuckle his belt. The sound makes you shiver.

"Good girl," He praises. You shiver in response.

As he tosses his belt to the side, you begin sliding your skirt off, letting it fall to the ground and pool at your feet. Your professor mimics with his slacks, walking closer and caressing your cheek. "Bed."

You obey, laying down on his duvet as he crawls up your body, sending shivers down your spine. "Professor-"

"Tom," He corrects. "No need for formalities at this point, yes?"

You blush before continuing. "Tom, are you sure?"

"I've been sure since the first time you tried to tease me in class," He replies. "I don't think you understand that I think about you every fucking night in my bed, about the things I would do if I were just able to have you."

You smile, your confidence returning almost instantly. "You have me, sir."

Tom grunts in the back of his throat, his body towering over you as he tears your underwear off, the cracking of the seams startling you. Immediately his hands find your sex, running his hands over it and around your thighs. His hands diligently run under your back, you arch, giving him easier access to remove your bra.

"God, you're stunning," He whispers before connecting his lips to yours. He pulls on your face, his teeth making contact with your lips and bruising their pink color in moments. As he pulls away, a string of saliva connects your mouths and you squirm beneath him.

Tom sits up and begins removing his boxers. The tent in them is noticeable -- and horrifying. You can tell he's big even without seeing it.

Not like you've thought about it before, though.

Now completely undressed, he puts his hands under your waist and drags you forward with a grunt. His hands dig at the fat of your hips and travel along your plush thighs, a moan escaping your lips as his fingers dance on your skin.

"Does my little girl need her professor's cock?" Tom provokes, sliding his shaft between your folds -- up and down, up and down, up and down.

You whine, nodding eagerly in hopes to get him to just put it in already, but your meek noise wasn't good enough for him. "Use your big girl words, darling." He puts his thumb and pointer finger against your chin, urging you to look at him him; eyes burning through your skull.

"Daddy," You spit out too quick, back arching. "Please, need you inside of me so bad!" The sheer volume of your pleas and the new title takes Tom aback, yet his cock ached with every sultry word you spoke.

"Good girl," He praises, grinning at you beneath him. You watch as he inserts himself, pressing just the head into your heat. You let out a guttural moan, eyebrows furrowing in a lovely mix of pain and pleasure. He begins slowly easing himself into you further, inch by agonizing inch, until he completely bottoms out; releasing a groan as his head lolls back. "God, you feel so good princess," He praises, "Taking me so so well, yeah?"

His words struck a chord within you, forcing a smile on your face. You whimper, brain not being able to form a complete thought at how deep he was inside you and how just damn good it felt. He was much bigger than anyone you'd taken before by a longshot. Your walls clenched around him and he laughed, cock twitching inside of you. He slowly slides back, leaving just the head in, and then pushes forward quickly, earning a loud, needy, moan from your lips. "Look at you, so drunk on me, hm?" He says, pulling back and then ramming himself deep into you, bruising your cervix. "Tell me what you want, doll. What is it you need from daddy?" He teases, never averting his eyes from your gaze.

"Please," You whine, "Need you to to move, need daddy to make me come!" And without hesitation, he picks up the pace, rapidly fucking you while his hands grip the headboard. You can hear it hitting the wall, and suddenly you're glad he has a house instead of an apartment. The noises you're making are obscene, something any practiced Catholic would need to cross themselves after hearing. "Feels so good daddy!" You spit, earning a groan from him.

Tom turned almost animalistic during sex; his grunts sounding more and more like growls as he fucks you brainless. "Fuck!" He moans, taking a hand off of the wood above you. He quickly puts his free hand on your throat, squeezing and forcing your eyes to meet his once again. "Like being choked by daddy, yeah? Like daddy to make you feel powerless, hm?" He smirks, observing the visual pleasure and shock on your face.

You're so close, you can feel yourself on the verge of your orgasm, and his dirty talk was pushing you even closer. The hand on your throat squeezed, and you clenched down on him, causing Tom to curse under his breath. "Want your cum daddy," You squeak out, "Pleasepleaseplease!" You mumble in strands of pleasure.

"Feel so good," He praises. "Come for me, be a good girl and come for daddy, yeah?" He was fucking you hard, and fast, and he still managed to pick up the pace. His skin slapped against your skin, filling the room with hard smacks and grunts and moans; endless strings of 'daddy' and 'good girl' running from both of your lips.

"Want you inside me daddy," You choke out. Your head lolls to the side and bounces against the pillow, a lazy smile forming on your face. "P-please!" You whine.

That pushed Tom over the edge. He was too far lost in himself, leaning down and growling into your ear. "Ask and you shall receive," he teases.

As if on cue, you both come together, the wave of pleasure rushing over you both. You could feel his warmth filling you up, leaking down your heat and spilling onto his bed. "Fuck, Y/n!" He grunts, "Took me so so well little girl."

You couldn't think, let alone speak. Tom stayed inside of you, helping you ride out your orgasm, not wanting the feeling of your sweet sex to leave him. He took his hand off of your throat and stroked the site, soothing the redness with a sultry kiss. You hummed in response, letting your body fall limp. After a few moments, he pulled out.

About three things Tom was absolutely certain: One, he should’ve never become romantically entangled with one of his students. Two, engaging in this behavior put his entire career in jeopardy due to it being wildly illegal. Three, he was, without a doubt in his mind, unconditionally in love with everything about you.

As you laid on his chest, foreheads drenched in sweat and bodies stuck together, you felt more at home than you'd like to admit. One hand messaged your back, drawing figure-eights on your skin, and the other pet your hair, occasionally drawing his lips close to kiss the top of your head. You burrowed your head into him, clinging onto his body. He grinned.

"I should've never let it go this far," Tom said, his voice raspy and deep with post-sex clarity, "but I'm afraid I'm in too deep to give it up now." He let out a low laugh, your head bouncing with his chest.

You smiled. "I'm afraid I wouldn't have been able to return to normal after this," You commented, "and, well, not to be dramatic but having sex with your professor twice your age does things to you." Tom chuckled, looking down at you and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

"This is all so wrong," He mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, "And yet I wouldn't have it any other way." He pressed a kiss to your lips, the kind of kiss that left a permanent stain of love and lust on your mouth. It was deep, meaningful, and romantic. Tom stared at you, taking in your features and basking in each and every one. "You are breathtaking, darling."

You hid your face in his neck, attempting to suppress the toothy grin you'd almost shown him, however he pulls your head up with his pointer finger and thumb, admiring your rosy cheeks. "Poor baby, so sensitive to my compliments," He jests, letting out a low hum.

You roll your eyes at him. "It's not my fault that daddy somehow knows all of the words that light a fire in me," You emphasize on the word 'daddy,' which forces what sounded like a groan from the back of his throat. "I don't want to go," You admit, falling back into his embrace.

"I know love," He says calmly, stroking your hair and pulling you into him tight. "We can stay like this as long as you'd like, but eventually I'll have to bring you back."

You hum into just chest. "Just a little bit longer," you say to Tom. "I'm still recovering."

⟡

When you arrived back at your dorm, much later than you anticipated, Elio looked at you with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face. "Back so soon?"

"Shut up," You laughed, dropping your bag to the ground and kicking off your shoes. You wobbled into the dorm, legs still sore and threatening your balance. Clearly Elio had noticed this, as the first thing he said after greeting you was "Well aren't your movements suspicious," and your cheeks flushed red. "I do not need to explain my late night endeavors and my later night actions," You began, "But,"

"But..?" Elio lead, leaning forward in his seat.

"But." You ended, pressing your lips together with a hidden grin and nodding your head.

"No!" He gasped, smiling widely and clasping his hands, putting his chin on the top of his fingers. "Please tell me everything! Not that I need to know the gory details of your sex life but, like, was he..?" Elio put his hands in front of him, fingers forward, and spread his arms apart.

"Shut up!" You giggled, swatting his hands. "But yes. Yes he was. Very."

"I knew it." He said, shaking his head. "I knew he was packing."

"Not to ruin our gossip but I need to lay down with a heating pad or something because standing is hurting my body," You laughed. "I think that man busted my cervix."

"Okay, TMI," He said, rolling his eyes. "But honestly go get some rest, lord knows you need it for seeing him tomorrow."

You were confused at first, then realized that tomorrow you had Tom for English, and you had absolutely no idea how you were supposed to face him when the night before he had you moaning 'daddy' and railed you into oblivion. But that was an issue you could deal with tomorrow. Probably. Hopefully.

ⓒ THEFAEFICTION, 2023. DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPUBLISH, OR CROSS-POST WITHOUT EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[just-a-creep-babe]

A Demon’s Ache — Part 19

Eyeless Jack x Reader

A Demon's Ache Masterlist

Dedicated to @cookiereblogss --- tysm for all the support you've provided, this series wouldn't be here without you <333

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

Just like always, parting from you is difficult

He’s helped you clean up after everything’s been said and done, but even then, he just can’t bring himself to leave

He doesn’t want to abandon the warmth of your body, doesn’t want to abandon the indulgence of your scent surrounding him

And he can almost trick himself into believing it’s mutual

Your gaze lingers on him for a split second longer than usual, and your lips part, almost as if you want to say something

Jack’s never really been a religious man, but he’d pray to every god under the sun if it meant you’d stay with him

Tell me to stay, tell me you want me as badly as I want you

But then you press your lips back together, like you’ve reconsidered your words, and part of his black heart shrivels up and dies just a little bit more

“I should get back to my room,” you say, and when you bite your lip as you say it, all he can think about is kissing you until you’re both dizzy all over again

He swallows thickly, nodding

He wants to say something, but he can’t think of the right words

Tension mounts, filling the sparse distance between you

He can’t bring himself to move

And, from the very first moment he met you, he’s almost always felt like there was something pulling him towards you

But right now, that feeling’s amplified tenfold, and God, the mere thought of parting from you is nauseating

More

All he can think about is how badly he wants more of you

He’s so fucking hopeless

He’s about to lean in to kiss you again, acting purely on some base impulse within him

But then, you blink, as if snapping yourself out of some trance

And you mumble out an excuse, turn away, and leave him behind again

He has to fight every ounce of his being screaming at him to follow you

A few minutes later, he’s lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying his hardest not to think about going to your room

It’s pointless, he knows it is

With one final breath, he sighs, summons the willpower to get up, and tries to find a way to make himself useful

He avoids the hallway that leads to your room, instead opting to take the longer route to the library

Doing research is going to help keep his mind off things, he thinks

Well, it’s either going to distract him, or make things even worse by reminding him of what he did to you

But, at this point, he’s willing to try almost anything to stop overthinking

The warm smell of old books greets him as he enters the familiar room

Rows and rows of imposingly large bookshelves press up against the walls, each of them holding hundreds of colourful books—novels, encyclopedias, bibliographies, scientific studies—whatever topic you could possibly want to read about is kept in this very room

Despite being what could almost be considered the “heart” of the mansion, however, it’s almost always empty

And today is no exception

Jack takes in a deep breath, enjoying the honeyed scent of aged paper and the intimacy of the large empty space

He takes a second to orient himself amongst the rows of information, and then it doesn’t take long for him to find the section on all things demonic anatomy

As soon as he gets settled into his research, he doesn’t notice the time going by

And every time his thoughts drift back to you, he forces his attention back to the task at hand

All he allows himself to focus on are the paragraphs upon paragraphs explaining the compositions of demons

Mating rituals, sexual reproduction, anatomical differences, cultural and generational distinguishers—

He knew the demonic world was complex, but he never realized just how complex it really is

He ends up with a pile of heavy books stacked up next to him at a secluded table

Finding specifics is more difficult than he realized it’d be, especially because he doesn’t exactly know where he fits into things

Does he classify as possessed? A cross-breed? Some kind of undead?

He knows the very basics of what the cult was trying to summon when they created him, but clearly, they didn’t know the ritual properly, or it wasn’t a functional ritual, because he’s damn sure they weren’t planning on ending up with whatever he is now

He’s a fucking walking abomination because of those incompetent assholes

After what feels like arduous hours of research, he only finds anything useful in a mere two of the books he’d initially pulled out

And with his limited information on the specifics of his “breed,” he only manages to gather a couple of points that might be relevant

One; mating marks are much less common between a human and a demon, so both the available information and known effects are even more limited to begin with

Two; the intensity of a mark’s effect generally reach their peak anytime within the first to fourteenth day, and it gradually stabilizes after anywhere between three months to a whole year

Three; the intensity of the effects further depend on the type and strength of the demon, which, while useful to know, is ultimately a null point because, again, Jack’s a fucking abomination of a monster

Four; there are no known ways to reverse the effects of a mark

Reading that fourth point leaves a bad taste in his mouth, but he tries not to dwell on its implications too much

Finally, the fifth point; because shared marks between humans and demons aren’t common, depending on the type and strength of the demon, there’s a high likelihood of the human not surviving the initial peak of the effects—which, again, makes cataloguing the anomaly all the more difficult

That last point is all he can take before snapping the book shut

Fuck

Fuck fuck fuck

He stands, his thoughts racing a mile a minute

He’s about to rush back to you to make sure you’re ok, but as soon as he takes that first step, he stops dead in his tracks

Wait

What’s he supposed to say—he fucked up and bound you to an eternal arrangement, without your consent, and now there’s a chance it’ll fucking kill you?

The implications of it all crash into him like a tidal wave, and he suddenly feels like he’s drowning in a million and one thoughts—each one worse than the last

How badly did he fuck up?

He doesn’t realize how hard his heart’s pounding or how quickly he’s breathing until the room starts to feel like it’s shrinking around him, and he’s not sure if he’s about to puke or pass out

Keep it together, keep it together for her sake

He swallows thickly

Deep breath in, deep breath out

After years of managing his instincts, he, at the very least, has gotten decent at controlling himself when his emotions spiral

Deep breath in, count backwards from ten, deep breath out

It’s ok, he’ll figure something out, he tells himself, and he doesn’t know if he’s blatantly lying to himself, but it doesn’t matter right now, anyways

Right now, he needs to think clearly

He needs a plan

He doesn’t know how much longer he stays at the library, either pacing back and forth, wrestling his frantic thoughts, or standing deathly still with his sight zeroed-in on the books splayed out on the table

It’s like he just can’t think of anything useful—his mind’s a fucking mess

He’s too tense, too high-strung to think properly

He needs to calm down if he wants to get anywhere productive, he realizes

He pauses one last time to weigh his options

And then he blows out a frustrated breath of air, picks up the useful books, and heads out of the library

Straight to his room, he dumps the books on his desk, leaving them open to re-read later, then heads out of the mansion

He tries not to think about you, but it’s just about impossible to stay distracted for more than a few minutes at a time

He registers that it’s dark and cloudy outside when he steps out, but he’s otherwise too absorbed in his own thoughts to focus on his surroundings any more than that

Hunger

If there’s any feeling strong enough to compete with the thought of you, it’s his hunger

He lets it take over, lets himself surrender to his baser instincts, and the rest of the night is basically a blur

You still resurface in and out of his mind, but whenever he sinks his teeth into that squirming human flesh, the sweet burst of blood filling his mouth snaps him out of it all over again

He’s not proud of what he does, but in the heat of the moment, he’s too indulgent to care

He’ll regret it in the morning

He always does

Surely enough, by the time the sun is creeping along the horizon, he’s satiated, yet nauseous with guilt

He returns to the mansion, makes his way to his room, and almost immediately collapses into bed

He’s filthy, covered in dried bits of blood and gore, but that’s a problem for future Jack

Having spent most of his energy, he expects to pass out as soon as his head hits the pillow, but sleep doesn’t come so easily

Instead, he simply lays there in the dark, waiting

And, waiting one minute turns into fifteen, then fifteen minutes turn into half an hour, and before he knows it, the hours are slowly but surely trickling by and he just can’t seem to fall asleep

A dull ache of exhaustion settles in his now-sore muscles

He huffs, rolling over, trying not to let the thought of you permeate his mind yet again

But he just can’t help it

How could he live with himself if something happened to you—how could he live knowing he’s the one who killed you?

He can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen; he needs to confront you and figure things out

But first, he really needs a shower

He gets up, grabs a towel and a change of clothes, and makes it to the nearest bathroom

He throws his shirt off over his head, yanks his filthy pants down, then steps into the shower and lets the warm water wash away his sins

He stands there, motionless, for a few minutes as the water running off his body turns from black, to red, then almost pink as the mess of gore is rinsed off

He grabs the soap, runs it over his ashen skin, and tries to think of a way to broach the subject

He’ll have to be open, honest and genuine; no bullshit, no hesitation, no leaving any information out

And if you hate him for it, then that’s that

It’s not like he wouldn’t deserve it, anyways

Even if you come to loathe every fibre of his being, he needs to stay level-headed enough to handle it

He needs to find some kind of solution with you; he’ll do anything to fix his mistake

The more he thinks it through, the more he’s able to rationalize things

He still feels like total and absolute shit for what he’s done, but at least now, he feels somewhat more in control of himself—at the very least

He finishes rinsing off the remaining soap, steps out, wraps a towel around himself, and returns to his room to get dressed

One last look at the demonology books splayed open on his desk is all it takes for him to finally straighten himself up and head out his room to find you

He doesn’t know what time it is, and he’s too lost in thought to remember to check, but he knows you’re not in your room anyways

Like a strange sixth sense, he feels a tug pulling him towards the kitchen, almost as if there was an invisible string guiding him right towards you

And, surely enough, there you are, sitting at the table with a warm mug of coffee between your hands

On instinct, he takes in a deep breath—and that’s when he smells it

He freezes, stopping dead in his tracks

Feeling someone in front of you, you look up from the coffee between your hands, and your eyes lock with his

Every muscle in Jack’s body tenses

There’s no way, there’s no fucking way

He takes another deep breath—just to check, just to see if somehow got the wrong impression

But there’s no denying it, no masking the scent

Hoodie and Masky—their odour is all over you

He almost doesn’t know what to think

Those fuckers

Those fuckers slept with his mate

“Jack—“

You say his name, but he doesn’t even hear it over the blistering rage pumping through his system

Something within him snaps

The demon takes over again

And all he can suddenly think about is one thing

Kill

[doctor-dusk]

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

the best way to sort things out with your teacher.

warnings: oral and fingering (f receiving), age gap (not mentioned), a bit of angst, fluff too. 

word count: 4.5k

part. 1

for those who were waiting (a total of three people lol), part 2 is finally here. sorry for the delay, i really had a hard time finishing it, so i'm sorry if it sucks :')

one week has passed since mr. turner was at your apartment.

and in the meantime, you only saw him once on campus. 

he was like a shadow of a rat, sneaking through the rooms and holes, scared of being caught. 

yeah, scared. who ever thought that such a self-confident teacher could act like this?

as long as he hates to admit, he was acting like a fucking rat. he didn't want to look at you, didn't want to fall in temptation again. he didn’t want to see how hurt you were that he was ignoring you like this. 

oh, and how hurt you were. 

on the one hand, you understood. you knew it was wrong, that it was unconventional. but it happened. and you couldn't shake his image no matter how many times you tried. just as you couldn't help but look for him either. 

the only time you saw him during the week, right before you had a class with him, was when you were at the campus cafeteria. you were drinking some macchiato and reading an article.

you were so distracted that you didn't even notice that a few meters away, outside the cafeteria, exactly in the middle of an intersection between one corridor and another, he was looking at you. 

surreptitiously, obviously. especially because he couldn't keep his gaze fixed because one of his colleagues was talking to him. he nodded, looked at her and exchanged a few words about what he had understood. but his eyes always stopped on you.

oh, such a dickhead. 

“so, what are you doing next weekend, al?" she asked him, watching him shake his head.

“not sure. maybe rewatch breaking bad or something.” he shrugged, turner didn't really like making plans for the weekend, precisely because he liked the idea of ​​staying at home.

“phew, so boring.” she answered him. he looked away, seeing the exact moment you looked around a little, which forced him to look back at his colleague. “tell you what, my cousin is coming to spend a few days here, doing some tourism in the city, etc. we can arrange a dinner, i think you'll like her.”

“i don’t know, lilian.’’ he simply responded. he wasn't very interested.

''c’mon, al. you've been divorced for a long time, it's time for you to find someone else.''

alex knew that lilian didn't say that out of spite. she just worried about him being alone. i mean, single. it didn't mean he wasn't capable of getting someone for one-night stand and leave without having to report back the next day. oh, that happened often.

‘’i’m fine, thanks for your concern.’’ he forced a smile. he didn’t want to be rude to her. 

and even if he went to a possible dinner, met her cousin, maybe they could fuck later in his flat, would that be enough?

would he want to wake up next to her the next morning? would he want to make her breakfast, or take her for a walk in the park? would he be slowly dying just to see her again? would he look every corner possible looking for her just to catch a glimpse of her walking?

he didn't think so. he knew better.

‘’but i'll think about it, alright? i'll let you know if i change my mind.’’ he replied again.

‘’we’ve been here before.’’ she laughed through her nose, patting his shoulder. it wasn’t the first time that alex said it. and he rarely changed his mind. ‘’but think about it, she seems like enough fun for you.’’

he gave a nod, excusing himself right after, saying he had to be in class now.

on the other side, you looked around once more. you didn’t know exactly what you were looking for. maybe your mind was so dizzy that you were having a hard time paying attention to what you were reading. it was already the third time you were reading that same paragraph.

and then, you saw him. 

walking down the hallway as if in a hurry. fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of the brown leather briefcase. his fluffy hair was a bit messy, but it wasn't like he needed to fix it. in fact, it suited him.

he looked thoughtful. in fact, he always seemed that way. as if he was always caught in a chain of thoughts, always serious and methodical. but you were still able to see some softness amid the hard lines of expression on that face.

you followed him with your eyes, hoping he would look back at you, even if it was for a millisecond. you wanted that adrenaline rush from those ebony eyes in your direction, wanted to feel that warmth as if your body was on fire from the inside out. you just wanted his attention. you just wanted him.

but no, he didn't look back at you. 

he fought until the last second. he didn't want to give you hope. or give himself some hope. he couldn’t.

and there you are. on his class. sitting on your usual spot.

turner didn't bother to prepare an elaborate class. he wasn't in the mood for that. all he did was explain the topic in twenty minutes and ask the class to write an essay, pretending to be busy scribbling on some assessment tests he had in his briefcase.

the whole class remained like this, glancing when the other wasn't looking. he really tried not to look up at you, but it was difficult. you had his eyes on you the whole time, so it wouldn’t be any different now.

class ended early. turner dismissed the class and got up to erase what he wrote on the board. he heard the footsteps towards the door, some ‘’until next time’’ of some students, who he responded to by saying the same thing, or just with a nod.

but somehow, he knew you're still there. he felt your presence there, like something stuck in his teeth.

and indeed you were there. you hadn't moved a muscle since you put your stuff in your backpack, just waiting for the classroom to be empty so you could have a moment with him or try to have one. you wanted to understand, at least.

‘’class is over, miss.’’ he said, still with his back to you, finishing erasing the board.

‘’why are you ignoring me?’’ you asked directly, your eyes were staring at your hands in your lap, but lifted when you saw that he stopped erasing the board.

‘’i'm not ignoring ya'. we're talking now, aren't we?’’ he replied and felt like punching himself in the face. why didn't he know how to give you a normal answer? an answer you deserve.

‘’you know what i'm talking about. you... walked away.’’ you said, seeing him turn to look at you. for the first time he had the courage to look at you. he felt melancholy and longing when looking at you.

he was silent for a moment. he didn't want it to be like this. he felt he was to blame for this. and he could barely bear to see the look in your eyes.

‘’i'm sorry, darling. i didn't mean to.’’ he said, leaning his lower back on the edge of his desk. ‘’i'm just…’’

you stood up when you saw he was struggling with his own words. you take a few steps, getting in front of him. oh, how you miss this closeness.

‘’you just what?’’ you asked. you didn't want to pressure him, but you wanted to understand why he was running away. ‘’i know that wasn't the most ethical thing in the world, but…’’

‘’it wasn't, but it was good. i liked it, i really liked it.’’ he said, feeling his saliva go down his throat like needles. you felt your heart beating like a drum. ‘’but…’’ 

he looked down, avoiding your gaze, but you cupped his face with your hands, it was like your hands were made to fit in there. the bone structure of his face was perfect. you made him look at you, feeling his hands close around your wrists, but it wasn't like he was going to pull you away. he loved your touch, how soft your skin was.

‘’you don't need to be nervous. we can talk about this. i just want to understand you and what you're feeling.’’

he felt frozen in place. maybe because he had never thought he would come across something like this, especially with you. he felt vulnerable, but he felt comfortable with you. he felt safe.

‘’i don't think this is the best place to talk about this.’’ he murmured, his thumbs tracing circles on your wrists, his touch as soft as a piano note.

you nodded. someone might come through the open door and check on you both. it was a bit risky. but you needed to sort it out. it was killing you inside. 

“i can come to your place if you want. at 7pm. maybe 8pm.” he said when he noticed that you were silent for too long. 

you kept silent for a little more. you were afraid he was lying. that he was just saying this so you would let him go, and ultimately you would be left waiting for a knock on your door that will never come.

“i want to solve this as much as you do." he said when he noticed your hesitation, rubbing his thumbs on your wrists again, his touch was very smooth. “i'll be there, darlin’. i promise.”

“okay.” you smiled softly, your fingers rubbed his jaw one last time before pulling away. you wanted to kiss him, but it doesn't feel right at the moment. 

you picked up your backpack, looking at him one last time before leaving the classroom, making sure he looked at you until the moment you disappeared from his field of vision.

it was already past 8pm. turner simply hated tuesdays because he was limited to spending the entire day on campus, including at night when he had to teach a single class to an extra class.

and more than that, he hated the idea of ​​making you wait when he promised you he would be there.

he was racing against time, hoping you hadn’t given up. and well, no matter how late it was, you were still there, glancing at your door while pretending to be entertained by an old western movie. still clinging to the slightest hope that he would show up.

and when you heard the four knocks on your door, everything seemed to disappear. your feet acted on automatic, running to the door before he could even think of a way to apologize. you opened the door, finally seeing him there in front of you, a sight for sore eyes. like always.

he took a moment to absorb the relief at seeing that you were willing to see him before opening his mouth to say something.

‘’listen, i’m so sorry-’’

you didn't let him finish, clashing your lips against his with a voracity that even you didn't know where it came from, your mind wasn't acting with all its sanity. but who said you had sanity around him?

without thinking twice, he deepened the kiss, kissing you gently, almost reverently, moving his lips against yours in a slow move while your hands cupped his face, feeling his short beard tickling your palms, but you liked that feeling. you parted the kiss, for a moment thinking that this wasn't a good idea at first.

‘’i'm sorry, i... couldn’t help it-’’

he interrupted you, kissing you again, his lips parting so he could slide his tongue into your mouth in a deep, almost sensual way. his kiss tasted like black coffee, just like you already imagined. one of his hands resting on the back of your head while the other rested on the small of your back, bringing you closer to him. it was like you were some kind of addiction he didn’t know he had. or he knew, but he didn't want to admit it out loud.

‘’class took longer than expected, i didn't meant to make you wait.’’ he said after breaking the kiss, his breath coming out in soft pants as your hand reached for the door for you to close it with a light push.

‘’but you're here, aren't you?’’ you let out a shy, maybe a pathetic smile for thinking about it. you had him there with you, the man who invaded your most erotic dreams and made you think about things that you would never say out loud, not even to your best friend.

“i am.” 

another kiss unfolded, you didn't care what you needed to talk about, if you had something to work out. all you thought about was him, how enveloping his kiss was and how his hands seemed to touch you in the right places as if he knew you like the back of his hand.

you walked backwards, still trapped and intoxicated in the kiss, feeling your back touching the arm of the sofa, making you stumble gently.

‘’sorry, i should learn to control myself.’’ he said, scrunching his nose, but you shook your head.

‘’i don't want you to control yourself, believe me.’’ you said, letting your thumb slide over his jawline. such a perfect jawline, could cut diamonds.

he looked at you, a slight smile appeared on his lips. somehow, he liked what you said. the way you said. 

“you sure?” he asked, his hands finding your hips, his fingers feeling the smooth fabric of your dress. he was dying to be able to touch you, feel you, taste you. but he wouldn't do anything you didn't want to.

you nodded, moving your hands up to the back of his neck, feeling the fluffy and silky strands of his hair tangling on your fingers when you pulled him back to another kiss. now your tongue was more eager to explore the depths of his mouth, bringing him closer to you, molding your bodies as you felt like you’re slowly laying down on your couch with his body hovering above yours.

his breath was ragged when you felt his kiss moving to the corner of your mouth, trailing down to your jaw and neck, making you shiver from head to toe, your eyes closed immediately as he spread wet kisses along the length of your neck. he nibbled softly, as if he was afraid to use his mouth.

‘’you can do it, you know.’’ you whispered to him, letting him know that he could mark your skin if he wanted to.

‘’i was afraid you wouldn't let me.’’ he answered, letting his warm tongue lick your skin, making you let out a soft groan. ‘’your skin is so soft, i really don't want to leave marks that you'll need to use two liters of concealer to hide.’’

you chuckled, your hand moved to the nape of his neck so you could look at him.

‘’don't worry about it. i've been waiting for this for too long to care about hiding it.’’ you replied, feeling your cheeks flushing from admitting it out loud to him.

his heart beat faster, his mouth went slightly dry as he looked at you, as if somehow, he was searching for the sincerity in your eyes. then, he smiled.

‘’so can i continue?’’ he asked, shifting his body a bit, his knees resting on the floor, both of his hands resting on your sides, feeling your curves. you nodded, biting your lip slightly as he went back to kissing your neck, moving down to your collarbone. he wanted to take his time with you, to taste you enough so that he could feel your sweet taste for days in his mouth.

you were so intoxicated, so inert and deeply focused on feeling his touches and kisses that you didn't even realize his head was right between your legs, his hands caressing your thighs, but without invading under your dress. as much as he wanted to ravish you there, he wanted you to feel safe and comfortable with him.

''can i?'' he asked, his eyes looking up at you, almost in a pleading way. if you weren't thirsty for him, you would have a mental breakdown seeing that man on his knees between your legs, practically begging to eat you out.

you not only agreed, but also shifted your body a little, your hands going to your hips so your fingers tugged the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. he watched your every move, as if he were mesmerized by the sight of you taking off your panties, throwing them aside. well, in fact, he was mesmerized.

his kisses started on your left knee, building the anticipation for both of you. the kisses slowly moved further up, reaching your inner thigh, he loved feeling how warm your skin was and how you shivered with each little ministration of his.

and oh, how you were looking forward to this. your fingers tightened the hem of your dress, trying to dispel your nervousness, and of course it didn't go unnoticed by him. he knew how to read you so well, it was almost ridiculous.

‘’are you alright?’’ he asked, his cheek resting on your thigh, his eyes searching for yours. he could already feel your scent filling his nostrils, but he was more concerned with your comfort.

‘’yeah, i'm just…’’  you muttered, pressing your lips together, trying to think of how to explain it to him. but he already knew.

‘’i know, baby. i know.’’ he smiled gently, his hands reaching yours, covering your closed fists, his thumbs making an almost invisible caress. ‘’i'll be gentle, i promise. i just want to make you feel good.’’

you felt happy. relieved, actually. he was being understanding, he would never want to do something you didn't want to do. he was willing to go at your pace, to let you know how much you were desired by him in the slowest and most sensual way possible. his hands that were on yours tightened a little, moving up a little so that you could raise the hem of your dress since your fingers were tightening the fabric of the dress. slowly, your skin was being exposed to him, your body was heating up more as his eyes memorized that part of you that was always covered by your clothes.

his hands moved to your inner thighs, silently forcing you to open your legs a little more for him as he returned to kissing your thigh, moving closer and closer to your center to the point where you felt his hot breath against your sensitive skin, making you clench around nothing already.

when his lips reached your throbbing and needy cunt, it felt like heaven. you were soaking wet, and he couldn't control himself, his tongue sticking out to taste you, licking your slit from bottom to top, from your dripping entrance to your clit, where he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking it gently.

‘’taste so fucking good.’’ he hummed, more to himself than to you. he was dying to taste you, to have you like this, so he wanted to enjoy you like you were a banquet and he was a starving man.

he eats you out slowly, paying attention to your every reaction as his eyes look up, searching your face. but you had your head thrown back, your eyes closed so tightly that it took you a while to get your vision focused when you opened them again to look at him. 

‘’m-mr. turner…’’ you tried to say, your voice comes out as a meow, begging for more.

‘’shhh, it's okay. you taste so good, can't believe i had to wait so long for this.’’ he mumbled again, bringing his thumb to your clit, feeling it pulsing against his digit, circling gently as his tongue lapped your wet folds.

in no time, you're a babbling mess, mumbling incomprehensible words that he was loving to hear, as long as he knew you're enjoying yourself, and better yet, that he was the one who was making you feel this way. your right leg moved a bit, your calf resting on his shoulder as he simply devoured you, alternating between sucking, biting and licking, gathering your juices.

he moved his hand, his thumb still pressed on your swollen clit, but now his fingers threatened to invade your entrance, his mouth sucked the sensitive skin of your groin as you writhed in pleasure on the couch in your living room. his middle finger entered you with immense ease, sliding in and filling you until you felt the knuckle of his hand pressing against you. you could feel his finger going back and forth at a considerable speed, but you wanted more. so much more.

‘’one more?’’ he asked you, feeling your hand on the back of his head. you nodded eagerly, feeling your walls contracting when he added his ring finger, now both pumping in and out of you, curling up, massaging that spongy spot that makes you roll your eyes because of the pleasure.

he moved up, yearning to feel your lips against his, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans as he felt himself getting harder inside his pants, listening to your cries mixed with the squishy sound your pussy made as his fingers moved in an intense rhythm.

‘’you're so beautiful, so beautiful…’’ he whispered to you, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, feeling the salty taste of the tear you let out as you were feeling so much pleasure it was almost unbearable.

‘’i’m close…’’ you whispered to him, your eyes locking with his as he nodded, keeping up the pace. your words really moved him. having you so completely surrendered to him is better than any thought he could ever imagine. his thumb worked relentlessly on your clit, not slowing down until you're totally satisfied.

‘’yeah, let go for me, princess, let me feel you.’’ he encouraged you, kissing just below your ear. all of this pushed you to the edge, your hips bucking up as you clenched hard around his fingers, a few strangled moans and whimpers coming out of your mouth as you came on his fingers, milking his digits like the purest nectar.

he kept pumping his fingers really slowly this time, letting you come down from your high as your breathing returned to normal and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. you've never felt this good before. he touched you and made you feel things you never imagined you could feel.

‘’are you okay, angel?’’ he asked silently, hoping he hadn't hurt you or overwhelmed you too much.

‘’yeah, yeah... i'm feeling so good.’’ you smiled lazily to him, watching the fingers of his free hand brush a few strands of hair from your forehead, your cheeks were as red as a tomato. but oh, you're really feeling so good.

he slowly withdrew his fingers, your sore cunt gaping around nothing. he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you on his tongue as if he didn't want to miss a thing.

‘’is it that good?’’ you chuckled as he hummed and licked his fingers clear.

‘’dear lord, you don't know how much. i could keep my face buried in your pussy all day.’’ he chuckled. you liked his contrast between being respectful, but completely unfiltered in his words.

you laughed, your legs were too limp for you to move, so he carefully moved to the side, joining you on the couch. his lips were still glistening with your wetness.

‘’can i... return the favor?’’ you asked him, watching his eyes move to look down at you.

‘’you look too wrecked now. we can save this for another day, hm?’’ he suggested. he was hard, holding on as long as possible.

‘’but i want you to feel good too.’’ you replied and he smiled, touched that you think of his pleasure too. his hand moved to your face, his fingers squeezed your cheeks, making you pout.

‘’i already feel good with you like this. don't worry about me. we have time for this.’’ he reassured you. you smiled softly.

‘’do we?’’ you asked, your eyes flickered with hope. this meant he was implying that you would continue what you had. whatever it was.

‘’i mean... if you want it too.’’ he muttered, somehow feeling insecure about not knowing if you were on the same page as him. suddenly, he remembered why he had run away from you before. you saw his expression change, taking his hand on yours. ‘’i'm sorry. i just... as long as i want it, i don't want to.’’

‘’why not?’’ you asked him, seeing him avoiding your gaze.

‘’i don't want to ruin you. to… you know. you're young and i don't want to ruin your life.’’ he said, for the first time letting his insecurities show. he felt like he could be honest with you. he needed to. ‘’you have your whole life ahead of you, places to go, people to see. you don't want to be tied down to an old divorced professor like me.’’

you blinked a few times, letting his words sinking inside your mind. and then, you smiled at him, feeling that you had gained a little more strength to sit next to him, your shoulders touching.

‘’silly.’’ you called him out, making him look at you. ‘’i've been wanting you for so long. i don't care if it's going to 'ruin' me. i want it too. i want to live this with you, for as long as we're allowed.'' you answered him in whisper, as if it was a secret you were sharing. 

‘’i just think i'm a little too messy for you.’’ he admitted, feeling you running your thumb on his face, your skin brushing against the little bag under his eye.

‘’don't worry, i'm a little messy too. we can live with it.’’ you reassured him, making him let out a humorless laugh. he smiled to you, his lips brushing against yours softly as he held you close.

you stayed there for a long time. longer than you could count. you were so comfortable in his presence that you couldn't help but fall asleep, feeling his fingers massaging your scalp in a delicate, almost reverent way.

when he looked at his wristwatch, it was late. really late. he wished he could stay, but he knew he couldn't, at least not now. he also didn't know if you would want him to stay. very carefully, he moved his body away, being meticulous so as not to wake you. he saw a folded blanket on the armchair next to the sofa, unfolding it and covering you carefully so you wouldn't feel cold.

he watched you sleep for a while longer, his heart heaving at having to leave you, but at the same time fluttering at seeing you so serene, at knowing that he had you, even if it was only for a short time. he gave you a kiss on the forehead, his lips lingering for a little while before he slowly pulled away.

and then, he was gone.

[kechiwrites]

pedagogy

best friend's brother!sukuna x f!reader kinktober day 6 (cum play)

synopsis: "Underneath him is the easiest place to study the family resemblance. Yuuji favours his older brother like crazy, but Ryomen is bigger, broader, older, and leagues more intimidating."

wc: 2.7k

cw: dubcon, fem + afab!reader, cum play, fingering, pulling out as a form of birth control, dirty talk, pet names (angel), semi public, jerking off, mentions of anal play, mdni.

author's note: ough sorry y'all, big developments going on unfortunately but im now on a cruise so we dusting shit off.

“Yuuji! We are supposed to be studying. You can't just sail through college like you did in high school.” You slap your open palm against the wood surface of his bedroom desk, prompting your childhood best friend to drop his phone back into his pocket. For the fourth time in an hour.

Yuuji hadn't the heart to tell you he almost failed high school twice.

“I know!” He shrugs, spinning a pencil in between his fingers while you transcribe his chicken scratch notes into a word document. Initially, you’d been ecstatic to share a handful of courses with your long-time neighbour and friend, especially since you’d attended different high schools. Now, however, with both of you approaching midterm exams, you’re struck upside the head with the reality that dragging Yuuji with you into the realm of academic success is an uphill battle. You finish off a paragraph and push your rolling chair away from his desk, covering both your eyes with the cool palms of your hands. 

“Maybe we should take a break.” you sigh, and Yuuji perks up, metaphorical tail wagging. 

“Okay!” He chirps and you turn, lightning quick, to glare at him.

“I’m sorry! I misspoke, I am going to take a break and you are going to review chapter 7 and 8, and make notes. And maybe if I feel generous, I’ll bring up a snack for you.” It looks for a moment like Yuuji is going to whine and protest, but another sharp look of censure convinces him to shut up. 

Finally, a wise choice.

He scoots to his desk and dutifully opens the textbook, burying his head in the pages. You only leave when you’re sure he’s actually reading, feeling more like a grade school tutor and less like the university study partner you were meant to be. You close the door quietly, now hyper aware of the noise you make in the Itadori household, lest the ghoul that haunts the halls find you.

He finds you.

“Ah, ah, ah. And where do you think you're going?” His voice reverberates through your bones, deep and teasing and so irritating. You can feel his stifling presence as he follows you down the hall, steps deceptively light.

“To the kitchen...? I just wanted to get some tea.” you mutter quietly, eyes pinned to the floor beneath your feet, turning the corner in the hallway to jog down the stairs.

Ryomen follows you down to the first floor, his body so close you can feel his heat against your back. You tried to descend faster but you're worried you'll fall. You're even more worried he'll try to catch you.

When you finally arrive in the kitchen you open the fridge door immediately, praying he'll just get whatever the fuck he wants and leave you alone.

“You letting him fuck you?”

“Excuse you?” you bluster, your temperature shooting up in record time. He looms over you, crowding in close, until he can hook his finger in one of the belt loops of your jeans. He yanks until your side is pressed into the heat of his body, your heart rate skyrocketing in apprehension. 

“That how he's paying for your little tutoring sessions? Gotta say, I think you're lowballing yourself, teach.” He stoops down to hiss in your ear, and it’s just to intimidate you, you aren’t that short. His assertion, accusation, makes your skin itch, like his leering gaze is a physical sensation, one you’re eager to get rid of.

“Yuuji and I are friends, and you're fucking disgusting, Ryomen.” You pull away from him, slamming the fridge door closed, snacks forsaken in the interest of returning to the safe haven that is Yuuji’s room. He wouldn’t openly perv on you within view of his little brother.

At least, you hope he wouldn’t.

His grip shifts to your forearm before you can make your escape, and he doesn’t start speaking again until you turn to face him. 

“I told you to call me Sukuna.” He smiles, although it’s closer to a sneer.

You take pleasure in biting back, skin on fire where you're connected; “And I told you I’m not using that dumbass nickname, Ryomen.”

He rolls his eyes, and his grip on your arm tightens until it’s painful, before he lets go completely. “You used to be so cute.”

“You used to be…not a scumbag!” You bite, and it’s a weak comeback. But it’s true. He used to be nice, used to walk you and Yuuji from school, ice creams in hand for the two of you. Used to let you cry on his shoulders when you failed a taste or fell off the swing. Now he stares at you with a sharp leer, lips always curled in this infuriating smirk, like he knew something you didn’t, something about you.

It made your skin itch.

Ryomen places his hand on his chest, faux-affronted. “Ow. You know that really hurts my feelings, I thought teachers were supposed to be sweet. Y’know, pillars of the community and all.” He blocks your way when you try to leave, stepping side to side to intercept you.

“What do you want?” You snap, irritation shooting up your spine, making your throat tight. He whistles loud and somehow even that shit irks you.

“How much time do you have?” He brushes his fingertips along the neckline of your shirt. It’s nothing scandalous, it could be seen as modest, even. A simple baseball shirt, three quarter sleeves, clean, thin cotton, but the way Ryomen’s nail scratches at your collarbone makes your entire body shiver.

“For you, Ryo?” Your tone is sweet and sarcastic, drenched in black honey, “None.” You elbow past him, and bound up the stairs, tea and snack long forgotten.

He follows you still, taking the steps two at a time. “Well then I should make this quick.” When you reach the top of the stairs, the elder Itadori sibling snags you around the waist, wrapping his arm around your middle and pulling you down the hall towards his bedroom. You plant your feet, hoping the drag will slow you down to no avail. It takes your fingers in Yuuji’s bedroom door frame to make Ryomen pause. He scoffs, hiking you up and pressing you to the wall. “Fine, we’ll do it right here.” He pins you with an arm against your clavicle, using his free hand to deftly undo the button of your jeans.

“I will kick you in the nuts!” You dig your fingernails into his forearm and whisper, mindful to not let Yuuji hear you through the door.

“Try it, angel. I’ll make you soothe the bruise with your tongue.”

His hand slips into your underwear easily, deft fingers sliding between your folds, you’re only a little wet, (a shameful by-product of Ryomen’s proximity to you, his scent, his voice) but it’s enough that he notices, it’s enough to turn the smirk on his face into a full blown grin. He skates two fingers back and forth over your clit, pinches it every once in a while, until your hips buck forward, chasing his touch. He slides in between the lips of your pussy, rubbing against your hole insistent enough for you to feel it, light enough for you to crave more.

“I wondered for the longest time if you moaned or screamed. You ever been tongue fucked before?” Your head falls against the wall with a thunk, and you can feel a small moan build up in your chest.

“Yeah,” you pant, staring into Ryomen’s eyes, “about two weeks ago, how is Satoru by the way?” He stalls for a minute, squinting at you, you glare back at him, and he barks a laugh, sharp and abrupt and fucks three fingers into you at once. The force of his hand is so strong it drives you up and down the wall in short bursts, making your shirt ride up, exposing your stomach to him. He presses his lips to your throat, sucking and nipping at the skin there.

"That was funny." He whispers into your ear, but when he pulls back, his expression makes you think he didn’t find it very funny at all.

He fucks you faster, lifting his knee between your thighs, shifting your body further up the wall. He slips the hand keeping you pinned to the wall into the neckline of your shirt, and even through the fingerfucked, braindead haze he’s created in your mind, you’re pissed Ryomen is stretching out the collar of your shirt. His hand works quickly, yanking up your bra as best as he can with your closeness limiting his movement, so he can suck at your nipples through the white fabric covering your chest. You shudder at the sensation and your lips part around a miserable sounding moan, one you force yourself to swallow down so you don’t give Yuuji a reason to peek outside his door. You clench around Ryomen’s fingers, your abdomen tensing and relaxing in an effort to push him out of you, or pull him in? You honestly don’t know at this point because his mouth and hands and even the scent of his stupid fucking hair is turning your brain to scrambled eggs.

Like the French runny kind.

You need to come so badly.

“Hear that?” He goads, and you go ramrod straight thinking he’s talking about Yuuji. “Listen to how wet you are. I thought I was a scumbag? Thought you didn’t like me.” He makes you sound so immature, puts a melody behind the words like a stupid playground song, all while he talks about how loud you’re getting, how you cream all over his hand, your cunt leaking down his wrist. 

And maybe you’re sick, maybe all that fanfiction has rotted your brain, but his teasing makes you come fast, hard. You jerk your chin upward and grit your teeth and come, eyes to the sky.

“Oh, oh…There it is.” And lucky you, Ryomen is a chatterbox. He talks you through it, sucking on your earlobe and murmuring to you. “That feel good?” You shake your head and try to buck his fingers out of you. “No, no, don’t fight it. Soak my fingers. I know you can.”

The aftershocks are just as bad, and when he finally lets you go Ryomen brushes his dry hand over your head, sucks your taste off his fingers. Groans like he’s gonna come from that alone. He’s playing it up for your benefit (or humiliation, most likely), you can tell. 

“I am gonna beat my dick raw for weeks, thinking of that.” He smiles.

“You are so fucking-” You smack at him with both hands, leaning against the wall so your legs don’t give out.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m picturing your tits in my mouth again.” 

“Will you fucking go?” You point at his bedroom and thankfully, the older Itadori beats a hasty retreat, leaving you to right your clothes. And in the nick of time too. The moment you get your jeans back in order, Yuuji pops his head out, pouting at you.

“Where are the snacks?” And it’s not Yuuji’s fault. He didn’t tell his brother to accost you in their home’s hallway, but their hair colour is the same, and he looks like Ryomen did when you were a little girl with a crush and your body is still thrumming with energy you really wish you could ignore. 

“Get back in the fucking room Yuuji!” You shout, and only feel a little guilty about it.

To his credit, all Yuuji does is mutter something about you being a taskmaster who starves your workers before he plops back into his desk chair.

You finish the rest of the study session with your arms crossed over your chest to hide the wet spot Ryomen left. By the time you’re on your way back to your own home, Ryomen has blown your phone up with jeering, filthy texts. 

But it doesn’t matter.

That was never going to happen again.

HHH

Unfortunately, Ryomen had other ideas. Radically different ideas.

Underneath him is the easiest place to study the family resemblance. Yuuji favours his older brother like crazy, but Ryomen is bigger, broader, older, and leagues more intimidating.

Oddly enough, it's not fucking Ryo that makes it hard to look Yuuji in the eye. No, it's the weird, depraved shit he cheekily calls “extra credit” that earns that distinction. Like the time he stops you from sucking him off to completion so he could jerk off into your open hands while you knelt in front of him, lovely face contorted into a grimace below his hard dick. Or the time he dragged you away from another one of your study sessions, just to press you against Yuuji’s closed bedroom door while he slipped two already lubed fingers into your ass. Or the time he covered your ass in his seed after you’d begged him to pull out of you, only for him to snap clandestine photos of you with your face still in the pillow with his cell phone. 

He sends them to you occasionally. He called them “study aids”.

All of it makes Yuuji's unassuming, genuine grin hard to stomach, unbearable even. Makes you constantly want to come clean, to blurt, “I’m fucking your brother, and at first it was definitely a weird, not totally consensual thing but now I’m worried I’m fundamentally changing as a person and I’m scared that I’m forming a toxic dependency with his cock that will haunt me for years even after we eventually part ways.”

Or something.

It doesn’t make sex with Ryomen any less mind blowing, though,

The man takes you apart easily, lifts your leg over his shoulder and batters your insides with startling precision. “Nice and messy for me.” He mutters, eyes on your bouncing chest, every forward thrust he makes pushes you up his bed, and the headboard smacks noisily against the wall. 

‘Poor Yuuji.’

You squeeze the leg not brushing Ryomen's ear around his waist, rolling your hips against his, only stopping once your core becomes exhausted. Even then, Ryomen doesn’t stop, sliding your clit between his fore and middle finger rubbing at you with his thumb. “Tight as fuck, aren’t ya? Gonna make me-” His grits his teeth, and groans low in his throat. 

“P-pull out!” You stutter, beating your closed fist against his arm. Ryomen tenses and has the audacity to look inconvenienced, still, he slides out from your pussy, fisting at the soaked length of his cock, pushing himself towards his peak. You slide two fingers into yourself, not willing to let your orgasm fade away because Mr. Sure Shot had to nut early. Ryomen grunts above you, pulses of his come landing molten hot against your abdomen. From your vantage point, you can see his eyes become glassy and unfocussed, watch him sink his teeth into the soft, pink flesh of his lower lip. He eyeballs the mess he’s left on you, rubs some of it into your skin with his fingertips, smearing his seed into what you suspect are the characters of his name.

Men.

“Move.” He grunts, pushing at the hand you use to frantically fuck yourself, sandwiching his still wet dick between his thumb and your slit, rocking his hips slow and steady. 

His head nudges your clit, the fat tip of his dick sliding over your cunt, using his come to ease the glide. It’s filthy and slick, makes the inside of Ryo’s room sound like a goddamn porno, but your whole body clenches and relaxes everytime he almost slips back inside you. 

“Come on, come on, c’mon.” He urges, and the flush on his face, the heavy set of his eyelids and the rapid rise and fall of his chest all broadcast how overstimulated Ryomen is getting, trying to shove you over the edge. 

You come mercifully quick from it, your body ceding to the sensation, your clit throbbing near painfully. Ryomen grunts from his exertion, and you’d laugh if you weren’t so busy digging your nails into his shoulders, marking him with raised red welts that end in ten tiny crescent moons.

He pants into your ear as you both come down, making the entire side of your face unbearably warm. It takes a handful of shoves at his shoulder to get him to move off you and when he does, your whole body shivers without his warmth, his come cooling on your overheated skin.

 “I don’t know about you, but I think that was worth an A.”

You muffle your scream into his pillow.

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[torialefay]

"(Birthday) Queen Reigns Supreme" 🎂👑

chan x bday!fem!reader x felix smut 🔞

✨ synopsis: no birthday plans means you get dragged along to your best friend's company dinner party... no plans after that means you're getting fucked by your crush(es?).

✨ warnings: kinda possessive chan, felix is a little more than a cuck, unprotected sex, etc.

✨ notes: this work was catered towards our sweet Reign [ @chrizzztopherbang ] for her birthdayyy 👑 some of the plot is specific at the beginning (i tried (very poorly) to make things more british-y), but it becomes less specific after the first few paragraphs 🌟

“You have literally zero plans. Please, just go out with us. It will be way more fun than staying cramped up inside all day on your birthday,” Minho stated matter-of-factly. “And between me and you, if I have to go out, you should have to go out too.”

You stared at your best friend, annoyed. “I shouldn’t have to do anything when it’s my birthday.” You crossed your arms.

As much as you would have loved spending your birthday with family, it was so hard with them being spread all over. Even with your twin sister, you’d have to settle with a video call to celebrate each other as she was too far away. Each of your friends, including Minho of all people, had made prior commitments, leaving you pretty much alone for your birthday.

Not that you particularly cared. You’d never been one to care about your birthday actually. To you, it was just another day. Nothing special. Ordering in some food and cuddling up on the couch hadn’t sounded bad at all.

You had thought that your best friend felt the same way about birthdays, and to be fair, you were pretty certain he was just using the day as an excuse to get you to come with him to his company’s dinner party. You knew there was no way he could get out of it, because if he could, he would have shut it down 2 minutes after being told about it.

You fidgeted with your hair, contemplating just how many people you were going to have to talk to if you said yes. You had a massive case of RBF, so were you going to have to worry about it all night? Would you have to wear a tight, fancy dress? You always preferred something more loose. How long was this gonna last? Your social battery ran out after so long. Would you even know anyone else there? What if it’s just Minho and things get awkward?

“Chan will be there,” Minho stated, as if reading your mind.

You froze. ‘Yeah, I guess a company party would include Chris… and the rest of the boys.’ It had honestly just skipped your mind. You loved Minho’s friends, so you were at ease knowing that you’d get to see some familiar faces. But Chris? Chris Bang… he makes things different.

“Well now I extra don’t want to go!” you exclaimed, feeling your heart rate rise.

“Why? I thought you’d be happy to know that the guy you’ve been crushing on for, hmmm, I don’t know, 4 years now?, would be at an event you were attending… So you could actually, you know, talk to him?” Minho countered sarcastically.

“Absolutely not. I would rather die.”

That settled it. You weren’t going.

“Why?! I have begged you for years to let me put in a good word for you, and you won’t let me. You’re in love with him. He needs to find someone who will actually be nice to him. I have to hear about both sides every damn day. Please, just do it so that my life will be easier,” he huffed.

He was always on one.

“You know I can’t talk to him. I get so awkward, and I can’t think straight. Embarrassing myself in front of him isn’t exactly my idea of a great birthday.”

Minho rolled his eyes, letting out a deep puff of air. “Fine. Well, if you won’t go for him, will you go for the free alcohol? That, plus the members all miss you. They ask about you a lot. Even Chan,” he emphasized, making his eyes go big. “But we’re not talking about him. So the others and the alcohol. Come onnn- I swear I’ll make it fun,” Minho pleaded.

You shook your head with a smile. “Fine, you win. But we’re still stopping to get my favourite cake on the way home.”

"You know you're not sly, yeah?" you laughed at Seungmin while clinging tightly to the glass of wine in your hand.

You and the boys had basically ditched the dinner party at this point, opting instead to sit out on the rooftop patio while continuously refilling your drinks. After a few shots had been downed, Binnie suggested his go-to game of truth or dare. And there was no use in telling drunk Bin “no.” He was gonna win every time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seungmin replied, cocky grin on his face, as he walked back toward the table.

“We saw you put your hand over his mouth! Do ov-er! Do ov-er! Do ov-er!” Changbin began to chant.

Felix, following quickly behind Seungmin plopped himself back down at his spot at the table. “Why am I being punished? It’s not even my turn!” he jokingly yelled.

“That’s what you get for having the most delicious looking lips out of everyone here!” Changbin drunkenly yelled, dramatic as ever. “Raise your hand if you too would have picked Felix if you were dared to kiss anyone here,” Bin addressed the group loudly.

One by one, smiles arose on faces as each member snaked a hand up, including Felix. Laughs broke out as they realized they were in unison… until noticing you were the only one without your hand up.

Changbin was the first to notice, pointing his finger at you to draw attention. “Y/n doesn’t have her hand up!” he showed in his loud voice.

You just dropped your mouth wide open, staring at Binnie with a look of disbelief. You tried your best to act mad at him for pointing it out, but failed miserably. The wine circulating through had put you in too much of a good mood.

“What?! You would pick someone else over me?!” Felix pried, bringing his hands to his chest as he faked being offended.

Minho must have sensed the slight panic you were feeling, taking it upon himself to speak. “Considering Got7 is here, she’s picking either Jinyoung or Jackson. You boys were never in the equation.”

‘Thank god for you, Lee Minho,’ you thought, grateful for his quick cover-up. Although it was basically the truth.

Considering the fact that Lee Know was the only one who wasn’t drinking tonight, you knew he’d never let you live this favor down.

“Well then if you had to pick someone hereee, right now,” Felix continued.

“I’m not sayinggg,” you giggled.

“Well fine,” Felix said, sticking his tongue out.

“It’s your turn now anyway,” Binnie started. “Y/n, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you responded without giving yourself time to think.

“Okay. Then who out of the members would you rather kiss?” He asked, smirk stretching across his face as he laughed.

“Fucking hell,” you smiled while rolling your eyes. “Nevermind. Dare.”

“I DARE you to tell us who out of the members you would rather kiss.”

Cackles erupted from the rest of the members, scrunching up their eyes and bringing their hands up to cover their faces or to clap excitedly. This was too good for them.

You stuck your tongue in your cheek, shaking your head in disbelief. You chuckled lightly, knowing you should’ve expected nothing less from Changbin… or any of them really.

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” you giggled, looking directly at Bin.

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t put their hand up for Felix! You did this to yourself!” Bin said, putting the focus back on you.

“Fineeee, fine,” you said, blushing while directing your attention down to your glass. You couldn’t bare to say it while looking at them. “If I HAVE to pick… I’m choosing Chan,” you mumbled.

“Oooo”’s and little kissy noises popped up out of the members’ mouths as you continued to look away. You wanted to disappear.

“What does he have that I don’t have?!” Felix said dramatically, clutching his chest. Wine-drunk Felix’s antics were good enough to rival even the best of actors.

You finally brought your head up to face the members, feeling more confident that you now had something to work with. “I just always thought he was the cleanest one out of you lot,” you joked, hoping to mull over the situation.

As you finally locked eyes with Chan, you saw a subtle smirk on his face. Did he know? Had he always known?

“That’s not true,” Felix said with a pout, crossing his arms to give up.

“You’re just hurt that not every one of us is in love with you! Don’t lie, little lover boy!” Bin threw back to Felix.

Felix didn’t bother to respond, still fake-pouting and looking away.

“You’re my next choice, Lixie,” you reassured him, reaching your hand out and making a patting motion, hoping it would pacify him… And it did.

“Okay, fine. I can accept that,” he said theatrically, holding his head high.

All you could do was shake your head and laugh as you all went on with the night.

“Hey, y/n, could I talk to you for a second?” Chan asked, walking up from behind you as you’d been making your way with Lee Know through the car park.

You shot Lee Know a quick look, mouth dropped slightly as your brows turned inquisitive. Minho nodded, trying his best to hold back a greedy smirk but failing miserably. You wanted to hit him over the head, but knew it was inappropriate considering the situation.

“Yeah, yeah sure,” you said, pulling back from Lee Know a bit.

“I’ll go ahead and warm up the car. Just come on whenever you’re ready to go,” he nodded at both of you before turning on his heels to head off. You knew that the second his face was out of sight that he had put on a shit-eating grin.

Suddenly feeling a bit nervous now that you were alone with Chan, you knew you’d need to try playing off any nerves you felt. The last thing you wanted on your birthday was to feel like a blubbering idiot in front of your crush.

“What’s going on?” you asked, trying to seem nonchalant.

“What you said earlier about me. Did you mean it?” he asked plainly, as if he had not a care in the world.

Chan smirked as it took you a moment to get your footing. You never dreamed he’d be this direct about it.

“I mean,” you looked off to the side a bit. “Yeah, I think you probably do have the best hygiene. It just made sense,” you shrugged.

Chan wasn’t fooled in the slightest, just bouncing his head up and down to follow along. “If that’s the story you want to go with, then okay,” he said lowly, coming in closer and bringing his mouth to your ear. “Or you can be honest with yourself and come home with me tonight instead.”

Your face turned bright red. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamt of a scenario like this before, but dreams were just dreams. You could act cool in your dreams. But right now? You had no clue what to say.

“Chris, I-,” you struggled to find the right words. “I don’t want things to be weird between us just because of what I said. I don’t want you to think that this is what I was after. It’s not like-.” Chris cut you off.

“Y/n, I’ve had my eyes on you for well over 2 years now and never did a damn thing about it because I didn’t know how you felt. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but for fuck’s sake, just come home with me and let me treat you to a good birthday.”

You felt a light sensation on your palm as he reached for your hand, locking it into his own.

You looked up to find his eyes. “Fine... But Minho promised me cake first.”

With devious grins, you both ran to the car where Lee Know was waiting, sliding yourselves into the backseat.

“Mind if we throw in a different stop?” Chan said enthusiastically as he climbed in. “My place?” He smiled, looking at you as he projected his voice toward the front.

“It’s about fucking time,” Minho huffed, chuckling to himself. “Cake first, and then I’ll take you two wherever you want to go.”

“I really am the best fucking friend ever,” he mumbled inaudibly, shaking his head as he threw the car in gear.

Chris wasted no time once you’d entered his house, slamming the door behind him and automatically pinning you to the wall.

“What does the birthday princess want, huh?” he growled, going in directly to cage your body in and connect his lips to yours. He left no time for you to give a response, instead opting to throw his tongue across yours and bite all around, hungrily.

One hand of his pressed against the wall next to your head and the other holding taunt to your jaw, his chest pressed into you so tightly you almost couldn’t breathe. There was no way you could get so much as movement in from this position. He had fully control.

Moans escaped his mouth as he continued to throw himself into you, using his hand as leverage to pull your face into his so there would be no time for space to come in between you. With a quick pop, he pulled his mouth from yours, a string of saliva still intermingled to connect your lips to each other.

As hungrily as he’d started on your lips, he found his way down your neck and onto your collar bone. He licked and bit away until small welts began to form, causing a breathy moan to escape your lips.

“Chan,” you breathed out, trying to collect enough cognition to verbalize your thoughts. “Chan you can’t. People can’t know.” You strained your face. It pained you to even have to say it.

“Can’t know?” He brought his head up. “Can’t know that I’m good to you?” His hands grabbed at your waist, smoothing down your sides to firmly grasp your ass. “Can’t know that I’m giving you a good birthday?” He leaned his head in until his lips were around your ear, nibbling the tiniest bit. “Can’t know… that I’m fucking crazy about you,” he breathed out deeply as he said this, automatically letting his tongue run down along the outside of your ear. “Why can’t they know?” he whispered.

Fuck, he was making this hard. If your mind wasn’t so clouded over, maybe you could have come up with a better response. “Just… not yet.” That would have to suffice.

“Not yet…” he kissed your ear lovingly. “But one day,” he said as he smiled into you, using his hands to scoop up under your ass and lift you so that you were thrown over his shoulder.

“Christopherrrr,” you giggled, getting the wind knocked out of you in the process. “Put me downnnn,” you wiggled your legs, making it harder for him as he began to walk.

“I will, I will!” he laughed as he gripped onto you more securely, making sure you wouldn’t fall. “Just gotta make sure you get to the couch safe.”

“I know how to walk!” you tried to protest, but sounded too cute to be taken seriously.

“Barely… Here,” he said, letting you down slowly and placing you so that you were sitting on the couch. “Is that better?” he asked, half-laughing.

“Much,” you smiled, pulling on his hand to bring him in closer.

“Now, you’re gonna have to trust me and let me take care of you for your birthday, yeah?” he looked at you, face stern and serious.

You nodded as you let your tongue run along your teeth, ending in an anticipating smile.

Not being able to stand the sight of you being too far from him, he quickly fell to his knees in front of you, letting one hand relax on your thigh while the other gripped the side of your jaw. He leaned in to begin kissing you all over again, just as much force as he’d thrown into you mere minutes ago.

Slowly, you felt his hand run along your thigh, massaging gently before running over to pay attention to the opposite side. Before you knew it, he was rubbing up and down the entirety of your leg, pulling your shoes off of you forcefully.

It was crazy how Chan could be saying something so sweet, but then behaving so aggressively back to back.

You felt his breathing quicken into your mouth as he threw his tongue further into you, letting his hand drag the bottom of your dress upward until it was above your hips.

Only then did he disconnect his lips from yours, pulling his head back to look at your body underneath. Your pretty underwear that he convinced himself that you’d worn just for him. His jaw dropped the tiniest bit, seeing how pretty you looked for him.

His mouth found its way back to your neck, more gently this time. His hand ran slowly between your legs, teasing a big before using his entire forearm to separate your legs apart. You felt his lips curl into a smile as you let out a tiny moan.

Taking his time, he walked his hand until it lingered just above your underwear, continuing to gently tug them down until they were completely off, leaving you fully exposed to him. Normally, you may have gotten a bit nervous at this point, but with Chan, you couldn’t process any emotions but pure lust.

Chan’s hands found their way to your core, running gently a few times along the outside before letting a finger wander inside of you, dipping into your entrance, which was absolutely soaked at this point.

“Damn, baby,” Chris giggled, loving how worked up you were for him.

Moving a couple of fingers against your wetness, he gently worked his way up until he hit a spot that made you wince and had your breath hitch in your throat.

“Is that it princess? Is that where it feels good?” he smiled, pulling himself from your neck so that he could watch your face.

You nodded, throwing your head back and taking deep breaths to try and keep yourself from slipping away.

“Do you like it like this?” he asked, running his fingers up and down precisely across your clit. “Or like this?” he added, moving his fingers now into a circling motion. The movement sent a quick chill down your spine.

“Like that, like that,” you huffed, reaching down to stabilize his wrist where it was. Your hips reflexively bucked up into him, only adding to the pleasure you felt.

Chan smiled, loving what he knew he was doing to you. The way your body arched for him as he went the tiniest bit faster.

“Hands off, princess. It’s just me taking care of you tonight,” he teased, moving your hand away while still rubbing you in just the right way.

Suddenly, you heard the door burst open, hearing footsteps until a disheveled-looking Felix appeared.

“What the fuck, bro?” Chan yelled, jerking your dress down a bit so that it was covering you but leaving his fingers in place all the same. “What are you doing here?!”

“You told me I could come over,” Felix whined, obviously still drunk off his ass. He took a couple more steps forward until he realized. “Wha- what are you doing?!” he asked, as if he’d just walked onto the scene of a crime.

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Chan yelled, obviously annoyed now. “Go to my room and play a game or something, or just leave and come back later.” With his last sentence, Chan became a bit more comfortable, secretly moving his fingers again as he spoke. The mixture of his voice, his touch, and the scene around you, it was all too good. You bit down on your lip to stifle the moans that were begging to be let out. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down a bit on Chan, forcing his eyes to dart back down to you instead of Felix.

“Channie-hyung, you knew I liked her first!” Felix complained, throwing his hands out, obviously still talking out of his ass. “It’s not fucking fair.”

“Fair?!” Chan yelled, getting even more heated. His hand still didn’t let up on your clit, instead working faster now. He was quickly gonna bring you to the edge, and you knew it. “She CHOSE me. Now get out of here and stop ruining her fucking birthday!”

“Y/n, tell him! Tell him you want me to stay. You want me too, I know you do!” Felix begged, walking closer to the scene. From here, he could tell that Chan still had you going. Your face was contorted in all kinds of shapes and slow, steady breaths were all that were keeping you sane. He was sure it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Holy shit,” Felix breathed out, savoring the sight of you. “Fuck,” he tipped his head back, not being able to stand it anymore, his senses coming to him.

“Lix can get in,” you tried to get out to Chan, though it sounded more like a whisper.

Chan’s eyes looked at you daringly, picking up the pace on your clit as if he was waiting for you to change your mind. Challenging you.

“Fuck Channie,” you moaned, arching your back and reaching for his wrist yet again. Another second of this and you were going to explode.

You yanked on his wrist, moving his hand back for a second to allow yourself to get a few breaths in. You waited until your heart began to slow before proceeding as Felix brought his eyes back down to you.

“Christopher,” you said softly, leaning up towards him to reach his lips. You planted a small kiss onto the side of his mouth as you took your hands to cup his face, holding it there for you. “Please baby,” you kissed him again. “Let Lixie in this time. For my birthday.”

You looked into his eyes deeply, slowly nodding so that hopefully he would join you and give in.

He granted your wish, nodding back and taking your hand in his to plant a kiss to it.

“Fine...” Chan said, turning his head around to find Felix. “But you’re not allowed to fuck her. That’s all me.”

Felix smiled, not needing to hear another word.

Chan rose to his feet with his hand still holding yours. “Stand up, princess,” he instructed, helping you get to your feet.

As soon as you stabilized, he hiked your dress back up, helping move you back onto the couch, now on your knees with your back arched ever so slightly.

You heard his belt unzip behind you as he shimmied his pants down and released his cock, which was already bulging and hard.

Spitting into his hand, he stroked himself a few times before lining up behind you and letting himself rub around your slit and across your clit a few times.

Felix, starting to catch on, walked himself around to the other end of the couch. As Chan got ready behind you, Felix slipped himself down so that he was lying flat on his back, inching his body up until his face rested right underneath your core.

You almost jumped at the feeling of Chan entering you slowly, feeling how big he was- much bigger than you could have imagined. He filled you up until you were completely full, not understanding until that moment how much you’d needed this. You let out a deep sigh as he bottomed out, hearing his moan from behind at how tight you were around him.

Slowly he inched out and back in until he felt comfortable enough to go harder, gripping tightly around your waist so he didn’t knock you away.

“Fuckkk,” you let out, reveling in how good he felt inside of you. Each new thrust sent a new wave of pleasure upwards. You didn’t know how any of this could get better.

Felix, too turned on by the noises overhead, brought his mouth to your pussy, just to where he was watching Chan now pound into you. He licked a few long stripes around your entrance, letting his tongue hit you, but also accidentally running slightly along Chan’s shaft as he railed into you. Felix rested his tongue here for a moment, letting it hit back and forth between you and Chan. The moans escaping your mouth were unreal. You just couldn’t help yourself. Felix’s hot breath on you only made it that much better.

“Ahh fuck,” you heard Chan curse under his breath, feeling the new stimulation from Felix’s mouth as he began alternating between licking and sucking at the area. Chan would never have admitted it, but fuck did it feel better than anything he’d ever experienced.

In unison, the three of you became a wild, moaning mess, each of you going harder and harder. Chan pounded into you as quickly as he could, beginning to hit the most perfect spot as you threw your hips back into him. He was so deep- so fucking deep that you almost couldn’t stand it. You could feel it hitting something inside you, radiating back with the most delicious feeling you’d ever experienced.

Felix’s mouth did wonders around you, having you wetter than you’d even thought possible. As his tongue moved to your throbbing clit, you audibly screamed. Your head began to spin as he swirled around you, giving you just the right pace and the right pressure.

“Oh Lixie,” you breathed out, almost in tears of how good he was doing for you.

“Mmm,” he moaned with a tiny smile, using his mouth to suck on you now, just as sweetly as before, making sure the flat of his tongue was winding you up to where you needed to be.

That’s when you felt it. The warmth growing in your stomach was starting to burn. Fast and hard. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you said, arching your body backward. “I’m gonna cum,” you repeated, closing your eyes tight as your mouth dropped open, feeling everything pent up ready to release.

Chan quickly brought his hand to your neck to hold you upright, fucking into you just right. His hips snapped up as you felt the heat of his mouth move up next to your ear.

“You’re gonna cum with me right now, pretty girl. Gonna cum together. I’m gonna fill you up right now...” His voice sped up, yelling urgently. “Cum with me right fucking now. Right fucking now,” he growled, groaning out as he fucked into you with a few final strokes.

Felix continued lapping at your clit until you couldn’t stand it. Suddenly, you snapped. Your thighs shut together around Felix’s face as you began convulsing nonstop around them both. You screamed, your arms reaching up to claw at Chan who was still fucking into you with everything he had.

Felix wouldn’t let up either, causing you to go intot he biggest overstimmulated panic you’d ever have.

You continued to thrash and to yell and to scream until tears were streaming down, unable to move or do anything anymore. You were completely spent. Completely used. And fuck did it feel amazing.

Satisfied and exhausted, Chan finally pulled out of you, cum following the direction. A bit of the cum landed right on Felix’s face, forcing him to let off of you and pull back.

“Damn,” you said, body still shaking as you took deep breaths, trying to process what had just happened.

You quickly rolled yourself back until you were able to stand again, pulling your dress down to cover you.

You brought your hands up to cover your face before laughing a bit, wondering how in the fuck this was real life and not just your imagination.

Felix dabbed at his face as he hoisten himself up back to sitting and Chan pulled his pants on. You all stood for a few moments, unable to say a single word.

“Well,” Chan finally got out, cocking a brow and trying to put everything together. He shook his head in disbelief as he fiddled with his fingers. “This was fun… but Felix…” he looked in his direction. “Never again,” he laughed, pitching his voice up at the end.

Felix nodded, holding in a laugh himself. “Yupppp,” he said awkwardly.

“And y/n,” Chan continued, looking over at you, “never again… with Felix.” He cleared his throat before going on to clarify. “With me, yes. With Felix, no.”

Felix flew his hands up, finally letting out a laugh. “Alright fine, I’m just going home,” he put on a fake pity voice before standing and walking to the front door.

You giggled in response, rolling your eyes. As you heard the door close behind Felix, you continued on.

“Ya know,” you said, looking into Chan’s eyes with a teasing smile, “you don’t get to tell the ‘birthday princess’ what to do?” you mocked his little nickname for you.

He moved in closer, placing his hands on your waist as he pulled you directly in front of him. “Technicallyyyy, you’re not the birthday princess anymore,” he smirked, nodding his head in the direction of the overhead clock hanging from the wall. “But, you can still be my princess. And my queen. And my everything else too. If you want,” he smiled.