#gripping the sink. sweating. i'm so normal

[avensthetic]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐄, 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 (max feat. huh yun-jin of le sserafim)

let's get married in vegas we don't need guest list i don't wanna think too much let's get matching tattoos i don't wanna think it through baby, I'm so stupid in love book a flight to paris only one way what'd you think about sharing our last name? let's get straight to "i do" i don't wanna think it through baby, I'm so stupid in love

𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙎 𝙏𝙍𝙐𝙇𝙔

aventurine stood at the doorway, the gloom that hung over him highlighted by the moonlight. his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were clouded with exhaustion, his body slumped with a weariness that went beyond the physical.

the moment he staggered through the familiar doorway, every fiber of your being screamed his name. but the words died in your throat, replaced by a gasp as he collapsed into your arms. his grip was so tight, almost frantic, like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline. for one terrifying moment, you feared you held nothing more than the ghost of the man you loved.

"aventurine," you finally choked out, your voice shaky, "are you okay?"

he made a choked sound that might have been a laugh, but his eyes - usually bright with mischief - held only shadows. "depends. are you going to yell at me?"

anger sparked, bright and hot, but blanked just as quickly under a surge of worry. "are you injured? can i get you something?" you rattled off, tracing the wrinkle of his furrowed brow, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion.

he shook his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his next words were barely a whisper, laced with a familiar vulnerability. "just... hold me for a little while."

you did, sinking to the floor with him, wrapping yourself around his trembling frame. his familiar scent, mixed with sweat and blood, was a harsh reminder of the ordeal he'd endured. he had always shielded you from his true battles, from the real risks he took. now, those risks were undeniable, bleeding out of his usual bravado.

minutes stretched into eternity. you didn't speak, simply held him. gradually, the tension in his body began to ease, replaced by an exhaustion that made him lean all his weight on you. it was then you noticed the subtle tremble in his breathing, the way he kept one hand tucked deliberately behind his back. he always did this when putting up a front, in front of his opponents, sat in front of mountains of chips, cards stacked high, risks in every bet.

high risk, high return. all in. the phrases he always mutter under his breath once irked you. with no regards to his life, it made you fear that he'd one day leave you, that he'd just vanish. masking his fears with his left hand clutched tightly behind his back, aventurine lived life on the edge, unable to put his trust in his luck, much less believe in himself.

"aventurine," you murmured, gently pulling back, "your other hand..."

he stiffened, the usual cockiness abruptly gone. before he could evade your gaze, you captured his wrist, tugging his hand into view. his fingers were clenched - tightly, painfully so. you carefully pried them open, gasping softly at the sight of the simple silver ring nestled in his palm.

"what...?" your voice faltered, a mixture of confusion, joy, and a flicker of hurt. you'd waited so long, endured so much uncertainty, radio silence broken only by his haunting absence.

"marry me," he blurted out, the words raw and unfamiliar. clutched tight within his fist was the simple ring, simple and lacking the usual shallow glamor of diamonds, a silent offering of everything he couldn't yet put into words. "it's another gamble at life, i know," he added, the cocky smirk returning, a fragile shield against the vulnerability he'd just revealed. "but the odds of you saying yes seem pretty damn good..."

"idiot," you said softly, tracing the outline of his trembling fist, "would it kill you to ask me normally?"

mistaking your words for anger and rejection, aventurine flinched. he had pondered over it for a long time, thought of you when he watched you sleep peacefully, and even when he was out facing death. and he realized then while in penacony, that if there was something he can't leave nor let go, it's you. "i...i mean it. marry me, i swear i'm serious. don't let me go, don't leave, i swear i'll-"

"silly," you hushed, a finger on his lips. "don't hide your hand. this isn't one of your big bets, not one where you'd lose, because my answer to you will always be yes."

relief washed over his face, so intense it made your heart ache. his eyes, when he met yours, brimmed with unspoken emotion. he leaned forward, burying his face in your hair.

"i went somewhere so far, somewhere so dark... i nearly didn't make it back," he confessed, voice rough with emotion. you shivered at his tone, the bleak despair etched into his words.

"you came back," you whispered, cupping his face and tilting his chin up. "that's all that matters."

he kissed you then, with a desperation that stole your breath away. it wasn't the soft, playful kisses you were used to. this was raw, desperate, filled with a hunger that took your breath away. his hands sought purchase in your hair, against your skin, as if seeking reassurance you were real, that this wasn't some dream conjured by a lonely, weary mind.

you responded with the same pent-up intensity, fingers tightening in his shirt, needing that tangible proof he was back, he was safe. there'd be time for questions later. for now, just the heady scent of him, the rasp of his breath against your skin, it was enough.

breaking away, he leaned his forehead against yours. "penacony was...." he faltered, the usual confidence in his voice cracking. "you, this..." his gaze swept over you, over the safe haven of his penthouse that you made a home for him to return to, "you kept me going. the thought of you, i held onto it like a lifeline."

tears welled up in your eyes. so many nights spent staring at your ceiling, the deafening silence with his absence driving you insane. you brushed his unruly hair away from his brow, his warmth a reassuring presence.

"i love you kakavasha," you said, the words thick with emotion, "and i'm so, so glad you're home."

he closed his eyes, a kiss pressed to each tear that fell down your face. "you deserve better than this," he murmured, voice barely a whisper.

"i deserve you." you were firm, leaving no room for argument. aventurine...kakavasha — your kakavasha, was many things - reckless, calculating, infuriatingly difficult at times. but he was yours. he's here, he's alive, and he had chosen you. right now, with a ring he slipped into your finger, this was more than enough.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 - 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - 𝐄𝐍𝐃

[pestilentbrood]

despite the warnings, you stare into the sun you're willingly blinded by its brilliance beauty enraptures you so comfortingly you miss the blood dripping down your back

[forthelostones]

humans can lick too ─── ⋆ (kinktober)

☄. *. ⋆ fem!reader x dom!abby x perv!ellie ☄. *. ⋆

synopsis: halloween night just turned into another day for you, until you're visited by two desperate ladies.

warnings. 18+ (mdni); threesome, perv!ellie, dom!abby, fingering, nipple play (all receiving), and strap penetration & sucking (r!rec), jealousy, breaking & entering. pet names: baby & dove.

an: this will be my last (purely) smutty post for a while, i want to focus on a different style these next couple of days! this isnt my best & its a bit silly i think but i love this urban legend and i saw someone KB list this as an option. also thanks for 200 follows, much love. (i am taking any requests!)

wc: 2.5k

most halloweens you spend it doing a bar crawl or sitting on your porch, wine in hand, passing out treats. this night was different, you weren’t going out or even entertaining the idea of halloween - it became a normal day to you. earlier this afternoon you took your pup on a walk around the neighborhood and waved to your neighbors who were setting up for tonight. 

“well, city hall sent out an email saying it was imperative that we stay vigilant tonight, y’know.” your across the street neighbor mentioned.

“that’s every year isn’t it? i thought it was typically some teens who come and ruin the fun for all the little ones.” 

“i don’t know, tonight feels different, i'm turning in before 9 tonight just in case. especially with those incidents that happened last month.” 

you took what they said with a grain of salt. you were the youngest among your neighbors and they were always shaken up by the smallest occurrences. but tonight it felt like they may have been right, you couldn’t help but feel a dark cloud follow you on your walk. almost as if someone was watching you. every crunch on the ground your body stiffened, what if something bad is supposed to happen tonight? you and pup rush home in a paranoid frenzy, triple-checking if the front door is locked. 

as soon as you unleash your baby and remove your muddy shoes, you notice how warm the house has become.  you checked the thermostat and it wasn’t set, but you still couldn’t ignore the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. you walk over to the window above the kitchen sink and make a mental note that you should close it before sunset.

 after lounging lazily on the couch you hear the beginnings of laughter and soft screaming in the street for the holiday. you decided you’d do the bowl method tonight and place a note on the front porch, take candy, please! you scroll on your phone waiting for your dinner to heat up and you receive a phone call from your on-and-off against fling, abby.  you guys have a strictly fuck only relationship — she comes and bends you over, then leave. this didn’t bother you, for the most part.

"you coming out tonight?" she questions. 

"nope, staying in." 

your ears perk up at how quiet she’s speaking, but you didn’t care, you liked hearing her voice ring so sweet in your ears. 

"i would love to see you tonight, baby.”

you hear the shuffling of what your paranoid brain assumes to be footsteps coming from your bedroom. you walk towards the steps leading upstairs and get hit with the dial tone. 

“abs? hello?” 

you grip your fingers to form a fist, attempting not to breathe too loudly. just when your foot reaches the first step, the timer on your phone blares, startling you into a silly laugh. you can't believe how spooked you felt.

hey, what happened, why’d you hang up?

sorry, idk bad service, sorry. 

can i see you tonight?

you just throw your phone on the counter as you finish your food and wash your dishes out before going to bed. you reach down to pet your sleepy pup who is also ready for bed. you both travel to your bedroom, belly full and eyes heavy, ready for your head to hit the pillow. you strip off your clothes, throwing them on the floor, not even bothering to throw your laundry in the hamper. you look at abby’s message, wondering if you should reply or not, but you just let your mind drift off. 

in the middle of the night, your neighborhood stood silently as you tussled in bed, wrapping your legs in the sheets. you reach over the edge of your bed to feel your pup. their tongue tickles your fingertips and you smile into your pillow. your heart beats violently when you realize you didn’t close the window downstairs. in a blur you run down and close it, you peer out the window to see the leaves running away in the wind, it brings you some relief. 

you flop back in your bed and stroke your pup again to help you drift away. you feel their tongue caress your palm as you try and regulate your anxious mind. but then they didn’t stop and you became worried, you lean over the edge of your mattress, heart in your belly, and you see a woman in all black. she was lying under your bed, eyes closed, tongue wrapping around your fingertips. she had today's panties laced in between fingers pressed against her nose.

you tremble as you pull your hand away slowly and her eyes shoot open, her arms wrapped in a dark hoodie come from under the frame and she pulls herself up. you blink twice in attempts to see if this was one of those dreams when you’d open your mouth to scream and it was silent. 

“happy halloween,” she mutters from her mask and from initial examination, she didn’t have any weapons.

she brings her hand to the underside of the mask and removes it completely. the familiar face stunned you as you recognized it was your next-door neighbor, ellie. she came from the nicest house on the block, freshly repaved driveway and new cars adorning it, you couldn’t think of a reason why she would want to rob you. in this moment the memories of her flash before you as you two stand toe to toe. you had visited her house a few times for dinner with joel, who had introduced you to everyone in the neighborhood. but she would sit quietly and oftentimes just stare intensely at your face. 

“ellie, dont be rude.” joel would spit, and she would scurry off to her room. 

“ellie? what’s going on?”

“i watch you sometimes, dove. i knew you would be spending this wonderful day alone. i thought i should come and treat you.” 

“treat me how?” you feel a curiousness glaze over your anxious body. 

“i see her every time,” she begins to pace. “she comes over here, fucking you in my face.” 

“what?” 

your mind went blurry. 

“the blonde one.”

“abby?” 

she says walking towards you slowly. “do you remember that one time we almost fucked?” 

her hands come around your waist. “i do, ellie, i don't understand—”

“but then you said it would be weird because we live so close and if it ever went south…” 

her lips were close to your ear, you could hear her tongue snap against her teeth, and feel the heat brush gently against your cheek. her fingertips were playing a tracing game against your lower back. you recall the passionate kiss you both shared at the local bar, her desperate longing to just touch you in a tipsy frenzy. 

“i know, el.”

the florescent haze of headlights pulls into your driveway and interrupts the scene, blasting the sounds of call me little sunshine by ghost— it was abby. ellie’s face scrunched up as the familiar red pick-up shut cut off quickly. 

“what the fuck!” she groaned. 

“ellie, it’s okay, i can talk to her.” 

angrily, ellie snatched your wrist up in her hand and dragged you to the first floor. she shoved you towards the door where abby’s fist was pounding the glass. 

“get rid of her.” 

upon opening the door you see abby scouring the leftover candy in the bowl. she smiles with a faded look behind her eyes. “hi, baby.” 

you pretend to be normal, throw in a yawn, rub your eyes and she comes to pull you into her. her hands come around your ass as she’s one foot in the door already. her lips come to your neck, another leg in the door, and you shove her slyly. 

“what you don’t want to see me or something.” 

“abigail,” you say sternly. “not tonight.” 

she scuffs, “you didn’t get my text did you?” 

“i’ve been sleeping so no i didn’t get it.” 

“well i said, don’t reply if you want me to come see you.” she giggles. 

you grip her toned arms as she walks you backward into the corridor. ellie slams the door behind you both, which causes abby to step in front of you. 

“who is this?” she asks. 

you put your hand on her chest, “this is ellie, my neighbor, we were just about to—“ 

“what?” abby mutters, she gets so defensive that she doesn’t realize she how hard she forced you away. 

“wouldn't you like to know?” ellie smirks. 

in one swift motion, abby is gripping ellie by her hoodie and nearly lifting her off the ground. that’s when you step in between the both of them and make abby release her. 

“you can both have me, how about that?” 

𓆩⟡𓆪

all three of you sat on the edge of your bed. ellie’s hand slithered up towards your swollen cunt, while abby took your other leg and spread you open. ellie was more focused on getting as close to you as possible, desperate. she brought her lips to your cheek and gently pressed it against your feverish skin. she brings her red, bursting lips to yours and crashes into you. it was better than last time like she had been practicing. abby watched her, seeing where she could fit in, and began sucking on your neck. both your hands fall on their thighs, caressing them. 

“so how you wanna do this baby?” abby asks in a whisper. 

“ellie told me she’s been waiting for this. she watches us.” 

ellie looks slightly embarrassed at the fact, but abby smiles mischievously. 

“so you know how good she fucks me?” abby says. 

ellie nods silently, which leads you to then kiss her softly, bringing your tongue past her teeth into her mouth. she moaned obnoxiously at the taste of you. you bring your hands to her shoulders and lay her on her back while abby starts undressing herself. ellie watches you under the bright moon remove her black jeans to expose her nude, lace panties. she cups your face as you see how wet she had gotten throughout the night. 

you bring your hand up her drenched pussy and she trembles, swimming in her hoodie. “you look so cute.” 

she smiles nervously as you pull away her panties to view her swollen clit. abby sits at the head of the bed, completely undressed, skin tickled by the cool air, fingers brushing gently against her nipples, watching you both intently. you look up to her as you begin to bite ellie’s hot thighs. 

“come on, don't tease. fuck her.” abby spat. 

with no hesitation, you indulge in ellie’s sweet slick. she hoists herself up on her elbows to watch you suck on her clit. you knew she had been turned on all night so no foreplay was needed. abby had worked herself up by now rubbing her clit slowly, keeping her unwavering eye contact. ellie swallowed all her moans and flexed her belly at the pleasure your tongue was bringing her. 

she brought her hand up to your head and fucked your face, sloshing all her juices on the tip of your nose and chin. abby gets up and comes around your backside. she slaps your ass, which makes you choke a little. she spreads her lips and comes to the curvature of your ass and starts rubbing her clit against you. being used by the both of them at the same time made your pussy throb. 

“fuck, im so close dove.” ellie moans.

abby plants another smack on your ass, even harder this time. you give ellie two fingers, which instantly causes her to cum in your mouth, she pushed her cunt in your mouth so hard that when she removed it, you were breathless. 

“come here.” she says, dragging you over her body to kiss her. 

she drags her tongue all around your face, tasting herself. abby is now hovering over you both, not knowing if she should be angry or turned on. you crawl over to her and she takes a firm grasp of your neck and leans down to kiss you. she bites your bottom lip which makes you wince and you feel the weight of the bed shift under you as ellie brings her mouth to your ass. 

abby then stuffs your face into her core, lifting up one leg onto the bed so you can slip your tongue inside of her. 

“yes baby.” she melted. you liked when she got like that, submissive. 

“open up for me abs.” you muttered, which was a command you said to her often. while she pulled back her clit hood, ellie brought her mouth to your pussy, which made you moan into abby’s. ellie brought two fingers to your wet hole and started pounding you so hard your ass moved in waves. 

you remove your mouth away from abby’s body and start moaning ellie’s name while looking upwards to abby. she bit her lip out of anger and walked over to your closet to get your strap. she brought your lips up to the toy and commanded you to suck. you knew she hated hearing another woman’s name come from your lips. tears bulb in your eyes from feeling the length fill your mouth. 

once she pulls away, strings of spit coax your chin and abby shoves you on your back. ellie’s fingers popped out of you just when you were so close. abby teases your pussy with her tip and brings her hand to your throat. ellie’s eyebrows knit together, jealous at abby’s dominance. she slips her hand to your clit as abby enters you. 

“say it.” abby said. 

“ellie,” you mewl, leaning over to bring her lips to yours. 

that’s when abby grunts as she presses down on you, making your pussy swallow every inch. 

“spit in my mouth ellie, let me taste you.”

ellie doesn’t hesitate to perch her lips and allow her spit to spread over your tongue, the sight alone makes abby pound harder. she brings her hand to your cheeks and makes you watch her, pulling you away from ellie. you can’t help but pull her in deeper as she slaps into your bruised cunt. ellie wraps her lips sloppily around your nipple and bites it without any warning. you yelp at the mixture of pain both women are putting you in, but it feels so good. your pussy is aching to cum as abby purposely bruises your cervix. abby wraps your legs around her waist and lays her full body weight on top of you, her hips cracking against your thighs. 

“abby! please.” you yell. 

“that’s right scream for me, c’mon.” she says in your ear, sweat dripping onto your neck. 

you twitch under the presser and come so hard that your eyes roll in the back of your head. abby and ellie don’t stop until your legs shake and you try and find the power to push them both away. you twitch at feeling the strap exit your abused hole, feeling gapped, as ellie leaned in to plant a final kiss on your lips. abby exhales and lays beside you and you turn to kiss her too, in disbelief that you’re fucked out of your mind. 

↓ if you don't know this urban legend here's the original! ↓

tw: mentions of pet death, blood, breaking, and entering, & l*nching.

Once there was a nice old lady who had a lovely little dog. One day, the old lady heard on the radio that a crazy murderer had escaped from jail and that she should lock all her doors and windows. So she locked every door and window in the house except one tiny one to let some air in. No murderer would ever get in through there! So that night she went to bed as usual. She knew everything was okay because when she put down her hand the dog licked it. But later in the night, she heard a drip, drip, drip. She put her hand down and the dog licked it. She felt that everything was okay but the dripping was annoying her, so she went downstairs to check on the tap. But the tap wasn’t dripping. So she went to bed again. She woke up again later in the night and thought the dripping sound was coming from the shower. She went into the bathroom, and there was her dog, dead, hanging in the shower, and dripping blood. Written on the mirror in blood was: ‘Humans can lick too!

[grandlinedreams]

hi i literally love all of ur posts u nail all of the characters its crazy.

one of my favorite tropes is hidding an injury and getting the classic “who did this to you.”

if ur still taking requests and are in an angsty mood would u plzzz write this with zoro?

Hhjg I try, thank-you!! But also mood it's just so GOOD and I hope that I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: mentions of canon typical violence, blood/mention of an infected wound, angst]

Staring down at the gash in your side, you bite back a hiss as you prod at it, the weep of milky fluid from it. The split skin is puffy and an angry red, heat eminating from it ㅡ it doesn't take a genius to know that it doesn't look good.

Normally you'd have the little handful of supplies from Chopper, tucked away in your backpack ㅡ but it's gone, along with everything else beyond your weapon.

At least you're not wandering around by yourself, though. As if on cue, there's the sound of footsteps behind you, and you drop your shirt back over the poorly bandaged wound.

"What are you doing over here?"

"Just fine," you answer as you turn towards Zoro. "I wanted to see if we could reach a clearing and get a good read on where we are."

"Fair enough." Zoro studies you for a minute, and you worry that he's going to know about the wound on your side ㅡ the one you'd casually "forgotten" to mention to him. "So which way should we be heading?"

"West," you answer, glancing up at the sky. The sun has begun its slow arc of descent, and you sigh. "We need to hurry, or we'll end up needing to camp for the night."

"Right." You turn to watch Zoro go, feeling the irritated twitch of a muscle in your jaw.

"Zoro. That's east."

ㅡ

By the time the sun has set, it's clear that something is wrong.

There's a fine layer of cold sweat on your face that you scrub at, trying to ignore the heaviness of your limbs and throbbing ache of your side. "We should stop for the night," you hear yourself say, "it's useless to try and navigate after dark."

Zoro grunts his agreement and turns to look at you, brow furrowing. "Are you sure you're alright?"

You want to answer him, you really do. But your ears are ringing, mouth full of cotton when you try to answer. Dark spots dance around the edges of your vision, and you're distantly aware of Zoro's noise of alarm when your legs finally give out.

"'m fine," you finally manage before the dark spots expand, sinking you down into the silent black of unconsciousness.

ㅡ

You wake to the awkward bulk of a backpack under your head and the smell of woodsmoke. Sitting up, you blink when a damp cloth drops from your forehead into your lap.

"Finally awake?" Sitting nearby, Zoro prods at the fire with a long stick before he turns towards you. "You have a fever."

Your hand slides to your side, feeling the stiff press of bandages underneath, the answering throb of the gash beneath.

"Took care of that too." Zoro's gaze is sharp. "I'm not Chopper, but it'll do for now. Mind explaining who did that and why you didn't bother telling me?"

It's clear he's far from amused, and you look away, feeling guilty. "Happened when we all got separated," you say, "and I didn't think it was going to be that much of an issue."

Zoro wants to scold you, but he knows he'd be a hypocrite if he did given the amount of times he's blatantly ignored his injuries. Instead he sighs, watching the logs crackle for a moment. "Hope you killed the guy who did it."

"Of course I did," you answer with a hint of pride, and Zoro smirks.

"Good."

ㅡ

"I think this is a little excessive, Zoro."

"You still have a fever," Zoro says as he adjusts his grip on your legs, "and we won't get anywhere if you collapse on me again." He feels you tense, and he frowns. "How are you feeling, anyways? And don't lie."

"A little better." You rest your forehead against his shoulder, and though he won't admit it out loud, the fact he can feel warmth radiating from your skin worries him. "I'm sorry about this."

"Still should have told me," he says, though his tone is softer, his grip tightening on your legs. "Idiot. We're crewmates, aren't we? We're supposed to trust each other."

"I do trust you."

"Then act like it." He stares ahead, footsteps steady. "Don't go getting hurt and then hiding anymore, you hear me?"

"I hear you." You pause. "Zoro?" He grunts in answer, and you exhale softly. "Thank-you."

Zoro tells himself that his heart doesn't pick up a little bit at how soft your voice is, the cling of your body against his. And that he definitely isn't blushing, just a little. "Yeah, yeah. Can't have you die on me and leave me to deal with that stupid cook all on my own."

[daisykihannie]

Put on a show (L.MH)

pairing: exotic dancer!Minho x F!reader

warning: NSFW, Swearing, Choking, Public sex, teasing, etc.

He was absolutely mesmerizing. You just couldn’t take your eyes off of him. It was like you were hypnotized by the way his body moved around the pole. The way his hips moved. It was your first time in a gay strip club. Your friends tried to convince you to go countless amounts of times. You didn’t see why you should go when you had a boyfriend. But now, you were single. He cheated on you and left. This time when your friends asked you to come with, you said fuck it and decided to go. 

You regretted not going sooner because damn, the guy currently on the stage was beyond hot. It was hot in the club, your face felt like it was on fire and your palms started sweating, But maybe it was just the drinks getting to you. Your brain was filled with thoughts of the way his hips moved and what his hips could do. You couldn’t help it. You had needs like everyone else. If you had to admit, this man was definitely making you needy.

You were beginning to drink faster. Downing shots like they were water. You looked up to his face and the both of you locked eyes. You felt a lump in your throat that you tried to swallow down but to no avail. For some reason you couldn’t look away either. It was like you were in a trance and his body was keeping you locked in. You cleared your throat and shook your head as you shot out of your seat. Which of course, the dancer noticed. A smirk creeping up on his face that you of course couldn't see in your flustered rush to the restroom. He knew exactly what he had caused.

You entered the empty Women’s restroom and locked yourself in the stall. You put your back against the stall door and let out a shaky breath that you didn't know you were even holding. Your fingertips hiked up your short dress that clung to your thighs, dipping your fingers into you now soaked panties and began rubbing circles over your sensitive clit. You closed your eyes, thoughts and images of the dancer flooding your head. You bit your lip to stay quiet as you started pushing your index and middle finger inside yourself, curling your fingers to hit that sweet spot while the heel of your hand stimulated your clit. Your breathing got heavier and more labored as you clasped your free hand over your mouth not to get caught. Surprisingly, you already felt the familiar knot begin to form in the pit of your stomach. You normally last a lot longer but the dancer made you feel a certain way and you couldn’t help it.

Right as you were about to tumble over the edge, there was a knock on the door, making you jump. A deep voice rang through the bathroom. “Don’t think that I don’t know what your doing in there.” your eyes widened in confusion. Who could have possibly noticed you? Why was there a man in the women's restroom? Did he mistake you for someone else? You flushed the toilet and pulled up your panties, fixing your dress. You opened the door, not looking up "I'm sorry but I think you have me confused with someone-" you were cut off when you ran straight into a strong and broad chest, making you look up with a raised eyebrow before meeting those familiar eyes. “I didn’t say you needed to stop.” he said with a devious smirk. You gulped. “W-What? I don’t know what your talking about.” You said shaking your head, walking to the sink to try to hide what you were just doing. The denied orgasm making your legs shake a bit.

He stepped closer to you before reaching forward and grabbing your hips, pulling your ass back against hips. His grip on your waist was so tight, you were sure his finger tips would leave bruises. A small moan fell from your lips as your eyes flutter shut for just a moment. He chuckled at your reaction. He then leaned forward close to your ear, looking into your eyes through the mirror in front of you two, his chin against the crook of your neck, before whispering “You were thinking of me weren’t you?” he asked. A chill ran down your spine, goosebumps forming on your arms. You gulped not wanting to answer him. “I knew it.” he said before pushing his hips harder against your ass with a skilled roll of his hips, you could feel how hard he was in his own pants now, he let out a low groan into your ear.

He separated his body from yours, causing you to let out a whimper as the cold air hit your back and upper thighs, now realizing that your dress had started to ride up. He was only away long enough to lock the bathroom door before he walked back over to you and kissed your neck feverishly, biting and sucking at the creamy skin. He snaked his arm around your waist, making sure your ass was as close against his dick as possible, his other hand snaked up to your neck, squeezing and lifting it to force you to look in the mirror. "Do not take your eyes off of me or I stop. Got it?" he asked and you opened your eyes again, making eyes meet through the mirror. His eyes with glossy, cat like, and full of lust. His eyes were dark with a certain fire in them that made your knees go weak, luckily his arm around your waist help you up.

"Look at you~ such a slut that just looking in my eyes has you crumbling. Be a good girl for me~" he whispered in your ear, never taking his eyes off yours. A whimper left your lips in response as he nibbled on the shell of your ear. His left hand kept a firm grip on your throat, his other hand leaving your waist to hike your dress up further, revealing the black lace thong in the mirror, an animalistic growl leaving his lips at the sight.

"Such a pretty slut for daddy~ you're being such a a good fucking girl for me." His voice causing chills to run down your thigh. you felt like you were high, drunk on his voice and touch without him even touching the parts you needed him the most. You whimpered a soft "P-Please..." and rolled your bare ass against him hoping to get your point across. Message received as he moved his right hand into the front of your panties, pulling your body back against him to make sure you were fully visible in the mirror to give him a good show this time. Your eyes never leaving each other as he rubbed circles around your clit, tightening his grip on your throat, making you that much dizzier.

LMK IF I SHOULD MAKE A PART TWO<3

[urfavsimpingfanficwriter]

Hey!! Could we potentially get some Brian Quinn smut? :)

Bathroom Sex -Brian QuinnxFem!Reader

I haven't been on here in a while so I'm so sorry for not getting to this!! (Also i love the way you think, Brian Quinn is everything)

Set After the Punishment Above

Warnings: Fem!Reader; Sal's Younger Sister Reader; Porn with Little Plot; Smut; SoftDom!Brian; Semi-Rough Sex; Bathroom Sex; Semi-Public Sex; Fingering; Oral (Fem Receiving); Dirty Talk (idk man); You almost get caught; Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it people); He doesn't pull out; Soft Fluffy Brian at the End

Summary: After Brian's punishment, you couldn't help to notice how good he looked all sweaty and hot. One thing leads to another, and you finally get to know your brother's best friend a little more personally.

You couldn't believe this was happening. One second, Brian and your brother had come out of their punishment, the next, you were pinned against the wall as Brian had his fingers inside of you inside the bathroom on set.

You could smell the hot sweat radiating off of his body as he kissed and bit your neck, leaving marks that you would have to find out how to cover later. One hand was covering your mouth, the other had its long, thick fingers inside of you, stretching you out, and making you feel incredible.

You moaned against his palm, trying to close your thighs as he got you closer and closer to your release.

"You close? Hmm? I've barely even done anything and your already crumbling sweetheart," Brian mumbled into your neck.

All you could do was moan in agreement as he thrusted his fingers faster inside you, his thumb beginning to circle your clit. He slowly started to kiss down your neck, towards your collar bone, and down to your chest, leaving a wet trail down your skin. He looked up at you, his normally chocolaty brown eyes dark. The way he was smirking into your skin made you clench even harder around his fingers.

"I'm gonna let go, but you have to promise to be quiet. Can you do that, Sweetheart?" Brian spoke into your chest, his eyes never leaving yours.

You quickly nodded your head, and he let go of your mouth. He got onto his knees, his fingers still plunged into you. He licked his lips and removed his thumb from your clit, quickly placing his mouth on the sensitive nerve instead. You had to bite your lip to keep you from moaning out. Brian gripped your thigh like his life depended on it. You gripped his hair, slightly pulling it, forcing him to grunt into your wet pussy.

You were so close, you were practically seeing stars. He inserted a third finger into you, hitting that mushy spot inside of you that caused your knees to collapse. You had to shove your hands against your mouth to stop you from crying out in pleasure as you soaked Brian's chin. His fingers and mouth slowed down, giving you time to come down from your high.

As he stood up, he trailed his hands along your sides, slowly bunching your shirt up as he went. When he was fully standing, he slipped the shirt over your head and threw it onto the sink.

He leaned in and kissed you deeply as he unhooked your bra, throwing that onto the sink as well. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you couldn't help but whimper at the thought.

"You want more already? God, what did I do to deserve you, Sweetheart?" He said as he leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, forcing another whimper out of you. His hand reached up and took the other nipple in between his fingers, rubbing around it. He softly nipped your sensitive nipple between his teeth, his beard scratching your chest.

"I need you. Please- fuck," You muttered.

"What do you need, honey? Come on, tell me baby," Brian spoke, a smirk making it's way onto his face.

"Fuck me, Brian, please?" You said, looking down at him, your lips slightly parted.

"Since you said it so nicely..." Brian leaned down and pulled your pants, and panties, completely off from where they were around your ankles.

He stood up and gripped both of your legs, lifting you up and shoving you even harder against the cool, tiled wall.

It was then that he smiled at you, "Are you one hundred percent positive? We can still stop if you want."

"Brian, I will kill you if you stop now," You spoke, a giggle coming out as you joked.

He unzipped his pants, pulling down his boxers just enough to let his hardened cock escape. You licked your lips hungrily as he slid his tip in between your folds teasingly.

He thrusted into you slowly, first just his tip, then going a few inches farther every couple seconds, forcing you to moan. He kissed your lips hungrily to quiet you.

He finally bottomed out, grunting about how tight you were against your parted lips. You were panting into his mouth, and he was doing the same as he thrusted into you, quickening his pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin had to be heard from outside the bathroom, but you couldn't care less. Brian filled you up perfectly, stretching you out slightly and making you feel amazing. Your legs were gripping his waist as he hit that special spot inside you over and over again.

Just then, you heard a knock on the bathroom door. Brian's thrusts slowed, but didn't stop, and you could tell he was close. He shoved his hand against your mouth and motioned for you to be quiet.

"Yeah?" He yelled out to whoever was outside the bathroom.

"Brian? Have you seen Y/N? I'm her ride home and I can't find her anywhere. I'm gonna leave soon," Sal, your brother, spoke from the other side of the door, his irritancy at the situation clear in his voice.

Brian smirked and looked at you, taking a hand and slowly rubbing your clit before speaking again, "No man, haven't seen her. Have you checked the other bathrooms? Or the parking lot, maybe?"

"Yeah, I guess I'll check again. If she isn't there I'm going to have to leave, can you make sure she gets a ride home if I don't?" Sal said.

"Yeah, I'll let her ride with me man," Brian said, winking at you.

God you couldn't wait to get home with this man.

As soon as it was quiet from the other side of the door, Brian sped up, his dick twitching inside of you. You clenched around him.

"You liked that didn't you? Liked me fucking you right in front of your brother? Right where we could get caught? God, you're so fucking hot," Brian muttered into your skin as he left marks on your chest.

Brian was pounding into you at this point, the sound of skin against skin and a wet squelching increasing every second. He took his hand away from your mouth, and put it around your throat softly gripping it. You scratched his back, surely leaving marks, as he got you to your breaking point.

"Bri- I'm gonna-" You couldn't even finish your sentence.

"I know baby, me too. Me too," Brian grunted.

After a few more thrusts, Brian came, his dick twitching as he filled you up with his come. The full sensation and the still-constant thrusting caused you to let go as you came, your wet and his come covering the length of his dick and the inside of your thighs.

He slowly pulled out, kissing your face, neck, and chest as he put you back on your feet. Your legs almost buckled out from underneath you immediately, and he caught you, chuckling.

Brian kissed your forehead, brushing your hair from your face. "Sorry sweetheart, didn't mean to fuck you that hard," Brian spoke against you, chuckling.

You laughed, finding your balance and the feeling in your legs. As he smiled at you and handed you your clothes, helping you get dressed, you could only think one thing: You can't wait for the ride home.

[ddejavvu]

you know that whole pilot speech thing hangman does? like how a pilot speaks to the passengers? my mind is dirty and likes to wander……… just humor me, imagine, IMAGINE! it would both be kinda cute, but also BRRRRRR because he would just narrate everything in that voice and with that stupid huge grin. maybe it would be like “no fucking way that could do it for me” but then he does is as a joke and it’s like “wait….wait… it’s not funny anymore… keep going👀”

this post is 18+, minors dni.

"Jake," You gasp, laughter shaking your chest where it's pressed to his own, "No, stop- don't!"

He chuckles with a grin, gooey and sweet as his nose bumps your jaw,, "No, I'm sorry darlin', the announcement has to be made."

"Don't you dare," Through your fit of giggles you register the soft brush of his cockhead against your slit, and even though you're elated and giggly, your hips jerk up. He lets one last laugh out into the dewy skin of your neck, then adjusts his voice to pump it full of extra cockiness.

"Ladies and gentlemen," You can hear the smile in his voice, and you shriek with laughter in his grip, "An aircraft is approaching the hangar. Please open the- open the doors," His shoulders shake with laughter that leaks into his voice as he reaches down to nudge your thighs further apart, "And prepare for landing."

"You're so lame!" You giggle, the sound turning sultry at the end as it bleeds into a soft moan. He eases his cock into your pussy, pushing slow and steady as he slicks up his length in your wet cunt.

"Miss, please- do not call the pilot lame," Jake attaches his lips to your jaw, sucking and popping kisses to the skin there, "You seem to be enjoying yourself mighty well."

"It's your voice," You admit, laughter fading out from your lips when Jake bottoms out. You shift your hips with a whine, "It's- agh, it's sexy, Jake. It's really, really sexy."

"Well then," He grunts, hips pulling back to drag his cock along your walls until he's almost out completely. You nudge his chin up with your nose, and you bury your lips in his neck, face pressed to his throat, "I think the pilot should keep making his announcement."

"Please-! Please do," You pant, gripping at his shoulders and digging your nails into his soft flesh, "Please, Jake, I- ah! I can feel it."

As he speaks his throat vibrates ever so slightly, the sensation thrumming through your veins where you're flush to his throat. You lick, suck, and drool against his skin, teeth nipping at the tanned expanse before you.

You're surprised that, when paired with the steady pounding of his cock against your insides, you cum faster than normal. There's something about being pressed to his throat, practically sucking the words out of him as he drones in that cocky drawl of his. When your thighs stop their relentless trembling and he's still jackhammering into you, you push at his shoulders.

"Wait, wait!" You pant, "'S too much, I- I can't. C'mere." You urge, pushing his chest back and reaching for his stiff cock where it slides out of your cunt trailing a glob of slick, "My turn."

You sink to your knees beside the bed, and his eyes trail down your sweat-sheened figure, roving with special concentration over the sticky stains on your inner thighs.

"Oh, fuck, Jake." You breathe, mouth watering at the sight of his red-tipped, slick-soaked, leaking cock. You squeeze it gently, and he groans, hips shifting.

"Just- just hurry, darlin'." He pleads, bucking into your fist, "Please, can't take this much longer."

"I will, I will," This time it's your turn to grin deviously, licking a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. Your voice is far too gleefully satisfied when you speak, almost rivaling his own in terms of cockiness, "I'm finally about to find out the deal with airplane food."

[steveshairychest]

Steve believes it's over; he believes they've won.

Sure, the town is divided by giant cavernous cracks, but that's not something he can fix with a nail bat. Steve's job is done. There'll be no more jumping through gates and fighting off monsters, no more injuries, and no more deaths.

Because they beat the bad guy.

Steve had watched him burn with his own eyes. He'd watched Nancy fire the shotgun right at Vecna's chest and taken pleasure in his screams as Vecna plummeted to his death. It came with a cost, but they won.

Things were just starting to fall back into place when he realised he was wrong. It starts as a faint sound, almost too quiet to hear over the chatter in his car, but it causes the hair on the back of his neck to stand and his hands to grip the wheel in fear. A quick glance in the rear vision mirror tells him no one else heard it. Mike makes a face at him when he meets Steve's eyes in the mirror and points at the road. "You don't have to keep checking. I swear I'm wearing my seatbelt."

No one notices the slight shake in his voice when he tells them to be quiet. No one notices his panic.

He hears it again when the kids pile out of the car. It's louder this time, almost deafening.

It's the sound of a clock, a grandfather clock.

Max had told him what it sounded like, she'd stared off into the distance and told him it made her heart race, made her so scared she felt sick. She said it sounded drawn out and wrong, like the clock was broken.

Steve hears that exact sound for days. It rings in his ears while he volunteers at the shelter, it deafens him in the middle of a conversation with Robin, it jolts him awake at night and leaves him reaching for the bat beside his bed.

But he doesn't tell anyone.

He doesn't tell anyone when his usual headaches get worse. He doesn't mention the hallucination of Barb he sees in his swimming pool when the kids come over to swim. He doesn't want to worry anyone, not when everything feels so normal, so peaceful.

But he's never been good at hiding secrets.

Especially not from Robin, who clocks him the minute he starts asking if she knows his favourite song and if she has a portable walkman. "But we won. We killed him." She chokes on her own words and they both slowly sink to the ground in a hug that nearly crushes them both. "You can't leave me, Steve. You can't. You can't. It's not fair. We won."

Steve holds her. He holds her so close to his chest and tries not to think about the reality that this might be their last hug. He doesn't have long now. If he were to lift his head from Robin's shoulder, he would be able to see the clock that has permanently wedged itself into the wall of his home.

Robin spends every waking hour with Steve from then on. She's there when he wakes in a cold sweat and she's there the first time Vecna gets him; the first time he feels cold fingers digging through his darkest memories to make him relive them all. He can hear the faint sounds of Robin's screaming as he is forced to relive the first time his father hit him, the first night he spent alone in his house, the first time he had his heart broken, the first time he watched a friend die.

'Dancing in the Dark' by Bruce Springsteen blares loudly in his ears just as Eddie's blood is drying on his clothes and then instead of kneeling in the grimy dirt of the upside down, he's kneeling on his kitchen floor, still in his pyjamas with Robin's arms holding him firmly in place.

"I thought it wasn't going to work." She cries. "You were in the air, Steve. I-I couldn't reach you. I had to climb on the bench -"

"It's okay. It worked. I'm here." He shushes her softly and brings their foreheads together; they're both breathing rapidly and there's tears staining their cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere." The clock chimes almost mockingly in his ears.

––––

Steve never expected to be back here. To be standing under the stormy red sky of the upside down, armed to the teeth with weapons to fight something they thought was already dead. But things haven't exactly been going his way as of late.

The second everyone found out Vecna has his eyes on Steve, they were all piling into multiple cars and fucking climbing down one of the cracks into the upside down.

What if they fail again? What if they go to all this trouble and Vecna snaps Steve like a twig the second they get too close?

Steve secretly wished the others never found out. He wished they were all still up in Hawkins swimming in his pool and laughing so loud it drowned out the clock in his ears. He wished they would listen if he told them to leave him here, to go home and forget about him.

"It wouldn't stop with you." Nancy says to him because she can read him like a fucking book. Steve didn't even have to say anything. She touches his arm gently and offers Steve a comforting smile. "Let us protect you for once."

Steve can see the fear in her eyes, but he doesn't say anything. He nods once and keeps pushing on through the never ending darkness.

They should all know by now that things never go the way they want.

They find Vecna easy enough, the dumb bastard is in the exact same place as last time and no one but Steve seems to think it's a trap. "It's too obvious!" He tells them, but no one is listening. No one ever listens to him in these situations. He can feel Vecna's ice-cold fingers prodding at the back of his mind as they creep through the house.

Instead of Vecna being on his own like they expected, there's something, or rather someone, crouched low to the ground at his feet; a guard dog ready to pounce.

A guard dog that has the same blood matted hair as the boy Steve spent weeks mourning, the same high cheekbones and soft, pouted lips. But it isn't him, it isn't Eddie. The thing at Vecna's feet snarls and reveals two rows of bloody, dagger like teeth and his usual kind, brown eyes are just,,, black. So black, Steve feels like he can see his own terrified face in them.

There's a split second where Steve thinks he's going to wake up. He's going to jolt awake in his bed and be pulled away from this nightmare.

But it never happens.

The last thing Steve hears is the guttural scream that emits from the creature that was once Eddie before he is sucked into Vecna's hold, his feet dangling above the ground as he's slowly lifted into the air.

This is it, he thinks. They came all this way just for him to die right in front of them.

Steve can't see what's going on around him and can barely hear anything over the sound of his younger self screaming. He's trapped in his own fucking head. Hands pat him down and dig around in his pockets for the walkman; the walkman he was supposed to grab out of the car.

He didn't grab it. He fucking left it on the front seat of the car.

Steve didn't even get to say goodbye.

"They don't need you anymore." Vecna's voice rattles through his head. "You're disposable." He's standing before Steve now. They're in his house, standing in the middle of the kitchen as younger Steve watches his parents leave for the millionth time. "Even your parents didn't want you."

He's right. They've been relying on him less and less. The only reason the party is even here is because there's a chance someone else, someone more important, could get caught in Vecna's trap if they don't stop him.

Steve's just collateral. A bump in the road to victory.

Steve stops fighting. He's done.

He takes in a deep breath and waits for the pain, waits for Vecna to finish him off, but the pain never comes. In fact, he can feel himself floating back to the ground, can feel hands grabbing at his arms and legs and pulling him down, down, down.

"Steve, can you hear me? Steve! Steve?" That voice... he never thought he'd hear that voice again. Maybe he was still in his head, maybe this was another sick joke from Vecna. "Hey, big boy, are you with me?"

"Eddie?" And when his vision comes back to him, he's really there. Eddie is cradling Steve in his arms, and if Steve isn't so relieved to see him, he'd be more worried about what happened to the monster he saw just moments ago. Well, he thought it was moments ago. "What happened? Is this real?"

Eddie smiles down at him; just a normal sharp teeth free smile. Steve sits up and reaches out to touch Eddie's face, the face he's seen in his dreams for weeks. The black, soulless eyes he'd stared into earlier are replaced with the kind, brown eyes he'd drowned in the first time they met.

But then he notices something else.

Eddie's skin is scar free. There's not a single scratch on him. There is no evidence he was ripped apart by the bats.

Something's wrong. He looks around, expecting to see Robin or Nancy, just anyone, but they're alone. Sensing his rising panic, Eddie reaches out and gently holds his face, a small, sad smile pulling at his lips.

"It's okay. It's over now, Steve. You can rest."

[v4mpgutz]

Non-gf ethan angst? Love ur writing btwww ur theme is so adorable aaaaa

This is Me Trying, Ethan Landry

[ ONESHOT ]

— first of all thank you sm i shed a tear lmao and second of all i wasn't entirely sure what kind of ethan angst you wanted so i just based it off of the last headcanon in lover !! :]

non-ghostface ethan landry x gender neutral reader

warnings ! — angst, implied child neglect, hair-pulling as a form of self-harm/self-punishment, miscommunication

-----------------------------------------------------------

ethan noticed almost immediately when you began to slowly drift from him. it wasn't on purpose, of course, and you weren't even aware of this fact. you'd began texting him less and less during the week and stopped calling him. he became anxious, his leg bouncing and mind drifting during classes. did he do something to upset you?

he chewed his lip anxiously as he made his way up to your apartment, his hands clenching into fists and unclenching as they grew clammy. his head was running a thousand miles a minute and he dreaded what he would find.

he knocked gently on your door with the back of his knuckles, his curls slightly matted to his forehead as sweat formed along his hairline. he stood there, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited for you to answer.

you opened the door, a blank look on your face as it hadn't even registered in your head that your boyfriend was standing at your door.

"what?" you asked, voice monotone.

ethan's face paled and he felt his heart sink to his stomach, "am.. am i bothering you?" he asked. his hands shook at his sides and he looked into your eyes.

you shook your head, face lighting up as you finally noticed the person at the door was your curly-haired boyfriend.

"ethan!" you exclaimed and pulled him into your apartment. "no, you aren't bothering me. sorry, i was working on an assignment."

he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he followed you to sit at your dining table. you seemed to be acting normal... but then why had you been so distant? were you sick of him? were you preparing to break up with him? even worse — had you found someone better?

you furrowed your brows in concern as you'd been telling him about your assignment, though he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.

"ethan?" you called his name softly, holding one of his hands in your own. "eth? baby," you patted his cheek gently and he flinched before looking over to you.

"hm? sorry.. what were you saying?" he looked to be in a daze and his eyes were watery, a soft pout on his lips.

you chewed the inside of your cheek and sighed. "okay, what's wrong?"

he shook his head, his hands extended outward as he shook them too. "noth— nothing's wrong! i'm fine. i'm okay."

you weren't convinced and judging by the tone he used and the way tears threatened to spill over his waterline, it didn't look like he was convinced either. you took a deep breath and reached a hand out to touch his cheek, a thumb rubbing over his cheekbone gently.

"eth? what's the matter?" you pressed on, worried about him. he tended to keep these things to himself, afraid nobody else would care. "you can tell me, hm?"

he blinked, tears beginning to run down his face and he looked down at his lap, his arms coming up to rest his elbows on the table. his hands found their way to his hair and his fingers weaved their way into the soft curls.

"i— did..." he took a shaky breath in and choked out his words. you knew he was trying to stop crying in front of you. "are you tired of me?" he asked you, his fingers gripping his curls a little tighter.

"what do you mean, love?" you looked confused, asking him this but keeping an eye on the way he gripped his hair and scalp. it was a little more than concerning now.

"you don't want to do things with me anymore, right? i was being too much for you. just like he said." he mumbled, his fingers tugging at his hair aggressively. he sniffled and sobbed, you couldn't help but compare him to a kicked puppy.

you shook your head, your hands slowly reaching up to touch the back of his.

"that isn't true, ethan. hey, let go for me, okay?" you gently tried to pry his fingers away from his hair, as to not hurt him even more. his hands shook as you get them away and they fell back down to his sides. his face looked blank but he didn't stop crying.

you got up from your chair and took the two steps over to kneel in front of him, one hand on his knee and the other cupping his jaw.

"hey," you called and his eyes made contact with yours. "ethan landry — that is not true. you aren't too much, okay? i've just been busy with classes this week." you sighed, knowing this would happen. you knew it was your fault, he tended to pay attention to peoples' schedules — especially yours — so of course that's what he would assume if you weren't speaking to him as much.

"i should've told you from the beginning, it isn't your fault. it's okay, baby," you stood up and hugged him, his face being in your stomach due to him still sitting down.

he let out small whimpers as he attempted to muffle his cries, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer.

you shushed him softly and smoothed his hair down, fixing the curls back into place.

"i love you, okay?" you reassured him as you leant down to kiss his head. "okay?" you asked when he didn't respond, seemingly thinking over whether he should believe you or not.

finally, he nodded and hugged you tighter.

"i love you too."

i love him sm omg :(

hes my little beloved i will give him anything he wants istg

[milkywaydrabbles]

Hii! I absolutely adore your writing so much honestly my fav tumblr acc<3

Could you pretty pls do 37 on the kinktober list with Alucard 😽

A/N: I'm sorry this one is shorter than normal ): I tried my best I hope you still like it though mwuah <3

Overstimulation x Alucard

"T-too much darling please, I can’t–aah" Alucard was nearly panting with your touch. You'd been teasing him for hours, using him for your own pleasure. Once you let him cum he thought you'd be done for the night. Instead, you grinned at him like the devil and sunk down on his cock again. He couldn't help but get hard, seeing you bouncing in his lap, tits on full display—truly a sight to behold. 

But then you just kept going--ripping orgasm after orgasm from the Dhampir. You both were sticky with sweat and cum, but you just couldn’t seem to care when he kept making such sweet noises and writhing underneath you. “Shh, just one more. Please? For me?” God you looked so sweet asking, Alucard wanted to say no, that he just couldn’t, but your big doe eyes had him melting even if his cock was red and raw with how you’d keep jerking him and riding him. So instead, he nodded, gripping the sheets underneath him. You were being generous, really, by using your mouth. A glob of saliva dribbled down from your tongue to his cock head, watching it drip down the shaft. You were so enamored with his body, you couldn’t help but to keep using it for your pleasure. You wrapped your lips around him, mouthing at the shaft, and placing sloppy kisses around his cock. “You’re so pretty, Adrian.” A whispered praise that had him preening. You kissed lower and lower until you sucked at one of his balls, moaning around him as you tasted cum from the last round that dripped down. “Taste yummy, too..” you licked a wet stripe up his shaft, pressing a kiss to his tip and finally suckling him into your mouth. Alucard whimpered, bucking his hips up even with the pain. It just felt too good. He couldn’t help it, your mouth was so warm and wet. Tears escaped his eyes, the overstimulation frying his brain as you continued to suck on him. 

Your tongue lapped his slit before sinking back down on him, the tip hitting the back of your throat with a gag. You took him as best you could, even with all the times you sucked Alucard off it was difficult to get used to how big he was. “Sweetheart, a-ah fuck! Please, please let me cum aga-aah..” He whined, a hand hastily grabbing at the roots of your hair, and tugging harder than he normally would. Alucard was mindlessly crying out to you, the pleasure and pain mixing into the most diabolical and euphoric type of high. You clicked your tongue, letting him grab at you so harshly and letting up from his cock just for a moment, “Just a bit longer, sweet boy,” and sinking down again, sloppily making out with his cock. The tips of your fingers teased at the slit, feeling pre cum oozing out as he twitched in your hand. Alucard kept begging you to let him finish, tears staining his face, mindlessly fucking up into your hand. 

Finally, finally, you wrapped your lips wholly around him again and hollowed out your cheeks, bobbing your head at a quicker pace up and down. “Pleasepleaseplease don’t stop, keep going, darling ke-ep g-going--fuck!” His broken cries turned into sobs, fucking your mouth as he came down your throat one last time. Even after so many orgasms he had spilled just a bit more into your mouth, which you happily swallowed down. “No more, no more” He begged, pushing at your face as you let him go. Alucard looked down at you, angelic as always even after the cruelty you had just shown him. A shaky hand caressed your cheek as he caught his breath, smiling as you turned to his palm for a small kiss.

“You are a vile woman.” He joked, voice breathy. You couldn’t help but giggle, and climb up to his face and cover it with kisses. “You looked so good, I couldn’t help myself, honey.” He’ll definitely be getting back at you another time.

[strwberri-milk]

tattoo artist kaeya having a thing for u, his regular client rosaria's cute little roommate, who is the exact opposite of her. he feels bad for fantasied a lot to the thoughts of u but he can't help himself bc he likes u so much

God I love tattoo kaeya so much actually I'm grrrr im also. i love jerking off idk how to explain it so there is smut in addition to kaeya being. god he likes you so much also reader is g/n

When Rosaria introduced him to a new client he didn't think much of it. He's tattooed a good amount of her friends and being someone who didn't shy away from any challenge meant he got a wide variety of customers wanting his ink on their skin.

As soon as you came through those doors he found himself much more distracted than usual, asking you a lot more casual questions as his intake session felt more like a friend, rather than a consult.

You didn't seem to mind, laughing and smiling as he talks to you and he's a little obsessed with it. He finds himself subconsciously flexing for you, trying to show off his sleeve or peeks of his back or chest pieces somehow. He doesn't miss the way your eyes wander just the slightest bit, thinking you've taken the bait until you make a very normal comment about how his tattoo looks so pretty and that he must have dedicated a lot of time to it.

He did, but he wants to start devoting that energy to you even though he barely knows you.

He works hard to try and design the perfect tattoo for you. To him, your body is so perfect he's so honored to paint it. He wants to bring out more of its beauty, obsessed with how shy and innocent you seemed standing next to Rosaria.

You were barely able to talk to him alone, needing her to stand with you as he talked to you. You seemed to be able to hold your own but the second she turned to do something on her phone you got even quieter, holding back until she came back.

He wants to have you all to himself, hoping that the next time he sees you Rosaria will be too busy to come with you. Maybe he'll ask you out, invite you for coffee or dinner on his dime and spoil you the way you should be.

Kaeya's mind wanders as he sketches, the lamplight bathing the lines of his pen as they twist and turn into something much lewder than he realised. The second he sees the figure on his book he slams it shut, not new to lewd tattoos but it draws attention to his cock straining at his sweats. He hadn't even noticed it until now, leaning back in his chair as he pulls the waist of his pants down to reveal his throbbing need.

He's glad he's in the privacy of his own home, biting his lip as he tries to ignore how badly he wants you. He shouldn't be doing this to you, not someone who was so sweet and kind. He should try to take you out first, put himself out there in front of you and see if you'll accept him.

Instead, he's sitting at his desk biting back barely concealed moans as his hand runs up and down his shaft. He can remember the way your warmth felt against him - you tripped when he took you over to view his portfolio - and the weight of your body as he steadied you.

God, he's so fucking desperate for you, not even needing to use his spit to lube up his cock. The head of his dick was practically spurting already, milky white leaking constantly out of his slit as his thumb teases it. Each swipe over it makes his hand jerk, imagining that it was your tongue stuttering from the feeling of him eating you out as you try to fit his girth down your throat.

"Fuck," he sighs, eyes closing as his hips begin to thrust into his hand.

"You're doing so good."

Despite you not being there, his overactive imagination was doing more than enough, grip tightening at the thought of you sinking down until you manage to meet his hips. He's got you on top of him, the way his balls rest against your ass making him gasp against your throat. His hands slip under your thighs and ass, bouncing you up and down at the speed he needs you.

"Kaeya!" you moan breathlessly into his ear, begging him to slow down while your body tries to keep up with his ruthless pace.

It feels even better to have you pinned underneath him, hands clasped with your own as you whimper. He's fucking into you so hard that your hips are brought up with each upstroke. The way your legs wrap around his waist make it almost impossible for him to pull out, your hole clenching over him tighter and tighter as you cum for him for the nth time.

His mind barely registers that it's the plush of his pillow he's roughly grinding into, the softness on his balls and sensitive tip making him whimper almost pathetically. He's worked himself up over and over, ignoring the mess of cum he's made on his sheets.

He hopes you'll say yes when he asks you out. His pillow won't survive too many other sessions like this.

[beanibon]

Inexperienced!Wolfwood x Reader

I wanna apologise to the Anon that requested this, I had accidentally queued it instead of saving it to drafts and by deleting it I deleted there request. So to not let them down I'll still be fulfilling their request they just unfortunately won't be notified which I apologise for again.

I do hope you enjoy Anon when you see this!

TW: oral (m!receiving), inexperienced sex, nipple play, clit play, marking, creampie, unprotected sex.

As much as Wolfwood was cocky, flirtatious and a constant pain in your ass at whispering innuendoes in your ear, he couldn't be more embarrassed to admit he's never actually had sex with a woman before.

His hesitation had you surprised, splayed on the bed on your hotel room, bare and spread for him to ravage. Only Wolfwood stood there, dumbfounded despite the discomfort between his legs. Hands stuffed in his pocket, rocking back and forth as he grimaced your way.

"You okay over there?" You asked, closing your legs as you observed the man.

"Ye-yeah! What ever do you mean? I'm perfectly fine, just taking in the view?" He stuttered, coughing into his hand before wiping the sweat from his forehead.

You frowned, standing as you made your way over to Wolfwood, who tensed as your hands cupped his face. "Nicholas, what's the matter? And don't lie to me!"

Nicholas swallowed, averting his gaze in embarrassment, only to land on your breasts. He felt himself drooling, drinking up every bit of you exposed before him, plush skin angelic in the moonlight. Forgetting entirely what you had asked, until he was being pulled from his trance, meeting your firm gaze again.

"Nicholas D. Wolfwood, you will tell me what's the matter." You demanded.

Am inward groan sounded from the man, his hands prying yours from his skull, eyes closed as he contemplated what to even say.

"I haven't had sex before," He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. It sounded ridiculous out loud, the overly flirtatious Nicholas D. Wolfwood who lived off flustering every woman in sight, had never had sex before in his life. "Shocker, I know..."

Yet you didn't tease him, hands smoothing over his revealing shirt. "Well, why don't we change that? If you want to that is?"

All he could muster was a nod, licking his chapped lips as you lead him to the bed, sitting him down at the edge. Your hands slowly began to undress him, freeing his hardened cock as it lewdly slapped his lower stomach. Nicholas groaned at the way you laughed so sweetly, admiring his cock.

"Someone's a little excited," You giggled, those soft hands running up his shaft, face pressed against it. "Let me loosen you up a bit, get you more comfortable."

"What the hell do you mea-A-Ah!"

Nicholas tensed, watching as your tongue dragged along his veiny shaft, pressed against the tip where your saliva mixed with his dribbling precum. Those soft hands pumped at his cock, slow and deliberate while you sucked at the tip.

Groaning Nicholas leaned back, hand over his mouth to muffle his voice from getting too loud. Releasing his cock with a loud 'pop!', those lidded eyes staring up at him.

"Nico, are you feeling good?" You cooed sweetly, smirking at his shy nod. "That's good baby, why don't we make you feel even better?"

You stood from where you had been crouched, sitting on Wolfwood's lap, cock sandwiched between his stomach and yours. Lips pressed against his in a needy kiss, raising your hips to slowly sink down onto his twitching dick, moans muffled by your kiss.

Pulling away, admiring the string of drool still connecting you two, those bruised lips looking good on someone normally so cocky. Not to mention Nicholas's blissed out face, tinted red with eyes clouded in lust. It was like he was staring at an angel, an entirely seductive angel that had his cock snuggly buried inside their warm, wet cunt.

Your hips dragged, causing Nicholas to grunt, calloused hands awkwardly gripping your waist. Patiently you relocated them, keeping one hand on your waist, while you guided the other to rub stimulating circles over your clit.

"Good boy, do what feels natural, okay?" Your voice sent tantalising shivers up Nicholas's spine, hips moving to sloppily thrust up into you in time with your movements.

His fingers pinched and pressed against your clit, eliciting addictive mewls of pleasure from you. Then you felt the sharp prick of teeth sinking into your delicate flesh, leaving bloodied indents on your shoulder. Licking the blood drops, Nicholas leaned you back slightly, enveloping your nipple in his mouth.

Small fangs dug unto the plush mound, tongue circling the nipple as he suckled on it. Once you moved your arms around his neck, his other hand moved to cup your neglected breast, massaging it as you whined.

Both your movements picked up speed, Nicholas's uncoordinated and inexperienced, yours needy and experienced.

"Nico, I'm gonna..."

"Yea-yeah I know, fuck yer squeezin' me!" Nicholas grunted, returning to sucking at your nipples.

Your body jolted, shuddering as your high came crashing over you, coating Nicholas's cock in your liquids. Warmth spread along your body and within you, basking in it until your eyes widened, staring at Nicholas who was resting against you.

"Did...Did you just cum in me?"

Nicholas hummed, looking up as he blinked, unfazed by your urgency. "Yeah, so?"

"Wolfwood!" You scolded, panicking slightly. "Moron, I better not get pregnant!"

"You won't, geez worrying o'er nothin'." He slurred, falling backwards while taking you with him.

"We're travelling with two reporters, a man who brings trouble wherever he steps foot, and not mention an over cocky Undertaker that thinks shooting shit is the only answer. I better not get pregnant."

"Alright, alright, then after all this is over I'll retire, look after ya." Nicholas trailed kisses along your face, massaging small circles along the small of your back.

"You're first time and you're already pestering me about retirement and kids, why don't we take it slow there Mister." You laughed, placing a lasting kiss against his lips.

"Fine then beautiful, we'll take it slow." Nicholas chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

I hope you enjoyed Anon! And I apologise again for accidentally deleting your initial request, I hope you can find it easily!

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Sweat

Roceit (Roman x Janus) Kinktober 2023 Day Five: Sweat Warnings: sex, hickeys, sweat/musk fetishes

"Can I help you work out?" Janus asks, stepping into Roman's workout room. Roman was still getting ready, unzipping his jacket  before tossing it onto his workout bag, already set to the side, out of the way on the floor. He looks like he's finishing up stretching, as he gives his toes one last touch, before standing up fully and twisting side to side. 

Though, he looks a little surprised at Janus's question, and moves to grab his water bottle and towel out. As he sets both nearby a mat, he shrugs. 

"Sure, I guess," Roman responds, before then peeling his shirt off, revealing his nice, muscular chest. Janus eyes him up without a second thought. "I don't know how exactly you're going to help, but it's nice to have a partner." 

Janus moves closer to him, and glides his hands briefly over Roman's muscular chest. Roman lets him, cheeks pink, before backing up and kneeling onto a mat on the floor, in a planking position with one knee on the ground.

"I could 'spot' you, perhaps," Janus muses, leaning over Roman as he takes out his earbuds so he can better hear Janus. They're placed into a neat white case, and tossed into his bag, before Roman turns to look at Janus. He stares for a moment, before cracking a smile and laughing softly, shaking his head before allowing it to fall back to the mat. 

"You have to be able to lift a good amount of weight to spot somebody," Roman responds, still smiling, "and you complain when I make you carry the jug of milk inside." 

"It's always cold," Janus complains, as he watches Roman flex briefly as he lifts his knee up, and fully holds himself in a plank. "And slick with condensation. I can never get a good grip. It's much better when you carry it inside." 

Roman laughs again, but doesn't turn to look at him this time, instead letting his elbows bend to a nine degree angle as he sinks, thick pecs nearly pressing against the mat below him, before Roman lifts himself back up, successfully doing one push-up. Watching Roman sink down a second time, Janus develops an idea. 

He kicks his shoes off, before suddenly Roman feels extra weight on his back. 

His head cranes up to look at Janus as he pushes himself back up to his starting position. A little surprised, he asks "what are you doing?" 

Janus crosses his legs into a criss-cross position, sitting prettily atop Roman. He reaches to run his fingers through Roman's hair, as he merely responds "helping you out. After all, you must be used to regular push-ups. I'm adding a bit of extra weight." 

"This is hardly more of a workout. I carry you around all the time!"

Smiling wide, Janus claims "then surely doing fifty-or-so push-ups will be easy!" 

Roman's bottom lip juts out in a pout, a bit bitter at Janus's underestimation of him. Doing fifty reps in a single set is no problem, and of course Roman didn't intend on stopping after a single set! So, he huffs as he replies "fine. I will. Get comfortable."

He lowers himself down, and pushes himself back up with practiced ease, making Janus laugh softly as he offers Roman a few compliments of "good job," and "you're so strong." Janus's words make him flush, but he keeps his head steady as he pushes himself down again. 

However, as he nears ten, he feels a bit of strain in his arms. 

After all, Janus sitting on his back wasn't the same as carrying him around bridal-style. Roman was actively moving his body weight up and down with each push-up, and while that may normally be easy, Janus was an extra hundred-and-fifty pounds atop that, of which Roman had neglected to account for. It was extra weight he was now having to lift with every push upwards, and weight he had to keep balanced when he'd lower himself down. 

"Come on, darling," Janus encourages, as if noticing Roman's newfound difficulty. "You've got this. You were so confident in yourself!" 

Roman lets out a little noise - akin to a whine - but finally lets his head hang as he sinks down into another low push-up position. 

He knows it's improper form. His head should stay up; his eyes should not be trained on the floor, and yet he's staring directly at the mat beneath him. Up, and down, and up, and down. It's a nice repetitive motion, and when he starts to focus on that, as opposed to Janus on top of him, he's actually able to finish his set. Albeit trembling by his fiftieth push-up. 

"Good job!" Janus congratulates him, sliding off of Roman as Roman allows his knees to fall back onto the floor, sitting back on them as he reaches for his towel. He dabs the soft material against his glistening forehead, before turning to look at Janus's smiling form. 

He's standing straight, hands clasped behind his back as he watches Roman. When he realizes he has Roman's attention on him, he asks "what's next?" 

Roman glances around his work room, before sitting back on his mat. He needs to give his arms a rest, and so he stretches his legs out, before laying back and pulling his knees up. 

"Sit ups." 

Janus raises an eyebrow. "Really; more core workouts? No weights, or pull ups?" 

"Do you want my arms to fall off?" 

Janus laughs as Roman tucks his hands behind his head, and moves closer to him, straddling Roman's waist. He makes sure to sit far enough back so that he wouldn't be pushed backwards when Roman sits up, and rests his back against Roman's knees. 

This position makes Roman smile slightly, as he asks "now what are you doing?" 

Janus grins right back as he responds with "motivating you. Now go on; get going. Show me how a big, strong man like you does a sit-up." 

So, Roman does. His core flexes as he pulls himself up, until he comes face to face with Janus, who stares at him for a minute, before quickly pecking Roman's lips. 

"One," he says, before he sets his hands on Roman's chest - specifically on his pecs - and pushes him back down. He can't help himself from giving his muscles a squeeze, and grinning at the way Roman's eyes dart between Janus's hands and his face. 

Roman's cheeks are bright pink as he seemingly realizes what Janus meant when he said "motivation." 

Pushing himself up again, this time Roman's more ready to accept the kiss, cocking his head slightly to the side in order to make it a little less awkward when they press their lips together, before Janus is pushing him down again, all too quickly in Roman's opinion. He hardly gets through ten sit-ups before he's whining about that fact. 

"Let me kiss you a little longer!" he protests, hands sliding from behind his head to Janus's thighs, holding them firmly. 

Janus merely laughs at him. "That wouldn't be very good motivation from my end. If I let you kiss me all willy-nilly, you won't have to keep doing sit-ups to earn my affection!" 

"I shouldn't have to earn you affection!" Roman pouts.

Janus leans over Roman slightly, hands once again running over Roman's muscular torso, dipping his fingers into the crevices of his abs, and then between his cleavage, which had build up quite a bit of sweat from just a minimal workout. 

Janus's forked tongue briefly flickers out of his mouth, and his eyes flutter shut as it draws back in. 

"You stink," Janus says, making Roman promptly frown, but Janus is clearly offering the words as a compliment. 

"I'll shower when I'm done." 

Janus strokes Roman's face, before twirling one of his pretty locks of hair. "You must let me join you when you do, but for now, I think you're onto weights." 

"I haven't even finished my sit-ups-" 

But Janus is already standing up, leaving Roman on his back as Janus moves to a nearby cushioned work-out bench, and Roman's little shelf of weights nearby it. They range from five pounds to fifty pounds, but Janus has only ever seen Roman use the thirties. He's half tempted to grab them for Roman, but decides quickly after that this isn't his workout, and he doesn't really feel like lifting. 

Roman, like a clingy puppy, scrambles to follow. 

He grabs a pair of weights from his weight rack, and sets himself down on the bench, struggling to stay still as Janus shamelessly slides onto Roman's lap. He faces Roman, or more specifically Roman's chest, and presses a few soft kisses over his muscles. 

"Get going," Janus then says, as he presses his cheek against Roman's torso. "You haven't even completed a full set though. What's your routine? Fifty push-ups, fifty sit-ups, fifty reps?" 

Roman mutters something about how he didn't even do fifty sit-ups, but gets easily distracted when Janus's tongue slips out of his mouth again, as Janus drinks in the musk slowly filling the room. 

Roman lifts a weight with his left hand, folding his elbow in as he raises the dumbbell to his shoulder, before it's lowered, and his right hand is raised instead, repeating the action. He alternates between them, lifting the left dumbbell up, and lowering the right down, and then lifting the right up as the left descends. 

He tries to ignore Janus's lips pressing over his front, worshipping his chest with small kisses and an occasional suck, leaving a few pretty red-purple marks over Roman's skin, but this proves continuously difficult. 

"Janus," Roman whines, as his arms shake. He tries to focus on his reps, but he can't. 

"You're not done already, are you?" Janus asks, not bothering to look up at Roman as he instead drags his tongue between Roman's cleavage, sweat tainting his tongue and invading his mouth and nose, which Janus likes a lot more than he should. Roman's face goes dark red, and he finally drops his weights to the floor as Janus moves from between his pecs to one of them in particular, and wraps his mouth around it. 

His tongue drags over the sensitive bud, licking circles around it, as his eyes finally flick upwards, catching Roman's. Roman groans out of embarrassment, before one of his big hands comes to tangle in Janus's hair, holding him firmly against Roman's relaxed - and thus soft - pectoral. 

Panting, Roman's forced to feel Janus's other hand climbing his torso to squeeze and grope at his other breast, pinching his nipple almost painfully until Roman finally lets out a moan, and, very carefully, flips their positions. 

Instead of Janus being on his lap, he's laid against the workout bench, his mouth finally detaching from Roman's chest and leaving his nipple a dark red, and swollen. It'll hurt by tomorrow, but for now it just makes Roman whine when Janus reaches his hand up to roughly drag his thumb over it. 

"What workout is this?" Janus murmurs, as Roman struggles to position himself on the thin workout bench. It definitely was a lot more inconvenient than a bed, but he was making due with what they had. 

Roman, flushed, answers "sex." 

Humming, Janus nods. "Ah, I see. Did you know sex allows you to burn three-to-five calories per minute? And it involves the use of various muscles!" 

"Did Logan tell you that?" 

Janus's eyes shine mischievously. "No, I researched that myself." 

Janus's shirt is pulled off, and his pants follow suit, with his boxers joining the messy pile of discarded clothing mere seconds later. Thanks to the bit of working out that's already been done, and Roman's general fluster being quite pungent, the room was warm enough for Janus to be comfortable, and smelled so much like Roman that Janus's tongue kept sneaking past his lips in order to taste the musky air. 

Roman briefly has to abandon Janus to go dig through his workout bag, from which he sheepishly pulls out a small bottle of lube. 

"Aw," Janus begins, teasingly, "do you think of me sometimes while you're in here?" 

Roman avoids meeting his eyes. "The room gets hot... and... you know..." He can't complete a full sentence, but the implications are clear, and quite adorable. 

Roman sits between Janus's legs - spread so that they were hanging off the side of the bench - and lets Roman maneuver him so that his lubed up fingers could be comfortably pressed against Janus's hole. 

And Janus just lets out a soft moan as Roman pushes his fingers inside of him. 

Roman's thick digits stretch him out, and feel so nice scissoring his hole open, despite the fact Janus quite frankly didn't need it. Slowly, Roman pumps his fingers in and out of Janus, flushed at the visual of Janus leaning so casually back against his workout bench and stretching his arms above his head like some sort of harlot tempting him to be rougher. 

Roman's fingers drag out slowly, but he lubes his cock up quick, making sure it's covered fully and pressed against Janus's hole before he's setting his forearms on either side of Janus's face. 

The faintest of blushes dusts Janus's cheeks, leaving Roman to briefly wonder if he's truly flustered, or if the room is just getting too warm for the two of them to handle. 

"Ready?" Roman asks, which just earns a soft laugh as Janus reaches up to smooth Roman's sweaty hair back. 

"Of course I am."

Roman needs no further prompting as he pushes into Janus's hole, slow and steady, groaning into Janus's ear as Janus's hands slide up his arms, and then slide across his back. 

"You're glistening," Janus moans, as Roman's cock slides deep into him. "Is this making you hot?" 

"It's still exercise," Roman responds, breathily. He's already panting into Janus's ear, which is adorably cute. As Janus's nails scratch at Roman's head, he feels moisture soak into the pads of his fingers. Furthermore, Roman's forehead shines with sweat threatening to roll down in beads and drip off. Janus hopes they do. 

 Roman pulls his cock out slow, and then pushes it back in quick, making Janus moan as his nails dig hard into Roman's head and shoulders. 

"So- so strong," Janus pants, which has Roman whining pathetically. 

He fucks slowly into Janus's hole, but pulls out shortly after, and lifts Janus off the uncomfortable workout bench. Janus hardly has the time to ask what Roman's doing before he's being shoved up against a nearby wall. Roman's hands are on his hips, holding him up, and Roman's cock is being pushed back into Janus, fucking roughly up into him. Roman leans forward, pressing his forehead against the wall and unintentionally smothering Janus in his slick chest, which has Janus flustered and moaning, as he wraps his arms around Roman's torso to try and pull him closer. 

Roman moans as Janus's hole clenches around his cock, as he lifts Janus up and then slides him back down, hoisting Janus up, pushing him back down, up, down, up, down.

Until the tip of Roman's thick cock slams against his prostate. 

Janus immediately moans, loud, but muffled in between Roman's thick breasts. As his mouth opens, sweat invades his tastebuds, and Janus shamelessly presses his tongue against Roman's chest. Being so close to him is starting to make Janus sweat, as heat from their "exercising" permeates throughout the room. 

And, if Janus remembers correctly, he'd closed the door on his way in, trapping them both in the humid air. 

Roman's panting above him, holding tight to his hips as he forces Janus up and down on his cock like a toy, forehead thumping against the wall as he fucks with enough vigor to rock both their bodies constantly. 

As Janus moans loud into Roman's muscular pecs, a salty taste fills his mouth, leaving him flustered and essentially suffocating due to the thick musk trapped between their bodies. 

If Janus could praise Roman anymore right now, he would, as Roman whimpers above him while repeatedly shoving his cock against Janus's prostate, making Janus cry or scratch Roman each time he's moved. And Roman does move him, like he weighs nothing. He's basically just another piece of exercise equipment, allowing Roman to lift him up and down, hold him still, keep standing straight, until Roman's own body aches from the complexity of their position. 

He can feel Roman's legs shaking. Maybe it's the fact Roman's semi bent over, keeping Janus nearly horizontal aside from his shoulder still being pressed against the wall, with his hips continually thrusting against Janus. 

"Fuck," Roman curses, sounding breathy and whiny. He sounds so cute when he gets close, which is what Janus immediately identifies this as. 

Janus's forked tongue draws in so much sweat it's overwhelming both his sense of taste and smell, making him shiver. His own cocks are rubbing repeatedly over Roman's muscular stomach, sliding against the crevices of his abs and leaving precome in their wake. The friction makes him groan, as heat overtakes his body. He's hot. The room is hot. Roman, and his muscles, and his sexy strength and tendency to sweat is hot. 

Roman's hands move from Janus's hips to his upper back, arms hooked under Janus's armpits and wrapping around his back fully as Roman squeezes him ever closer as though he's a stuffed toy. Janus feels crushed by the action, and yet comes immediately. 

His cocks spurt streams of semen over Roman's already sweaty chest, but Roman doesn't notice. 

The latter's eyes are squeezed shut as he whines repeatedly, moans and cute needy pants filling the room as he squeezes Janus tighter and tighter, threatening to snap him in half if he holds him any firmer. 

And then, Roman's coming in Janus with a shaky moan. 

He holds Janus tightly one last time, before finally relaxing his arms, and letting Janus fall limp in his arms. Janus's face is glistening with sweat, though it's blurry who that sweat exactly belongs to. 

His cock stays buried in Janus's hole for a few seconds, before he's adjusting his grip on Janus and gently lifting him off his cock, cringing at the amount of come that immediately spills down Janus's thighs and splatters against the floor. Roman's more than used to wiping up sweat in his workout room, but come is a new one. He keeps Janus lifted for a few minutes, and then pulls him against his chest one last time, this time with the intention to carry him. 

"Shower?" Roman asks, voice breathy. Janus laughs, and kisses the sweat from Roman's forehead. 

"Shower."

[strawberry-cow-smut]

Satan's Classroom Shenanigans

🌸Ageless + Minor = DNI🌸

Characters: Submissive, Top Satan (Obey Me)

Reader: Gender Neutral, Dominant, Bottom Reader

Exploring: Public Play, Secretive Play, Classroom Fucking, Blowjob, Exhibition (if you squint), Dick Riding, Overstimulation (Satan), Begging, Multiple Orgasms, Almost Getting Caught, Infirmary Fucking, Multiple Creampies, Abandonment of Restraint, Demon Form (though not playing a huge part)

Satan struggles to keep his head. Normally collected and focused, sharp as a knife in the classroom, he suddenly finds himself unable to think about anything aside from the menace hiding under his desk, prodding and rubbing at his cock during the last lecture of the day.

He's struggling to sit still. How could he when you're undoing his pants here of all places?! Do you have any idea how many people would see if he moved from his desk? What if the professor asks him to demonstrate a spell? You both would be exposed in a heartbeat.

You dig your nails into his thighs as his hips buck slightly, dick standing tall and proud before you. It's a miracle the tent in his pants didn't rip the fabric. He's leaking precum already and you've barely even touched him. He's so cute when he's this sensitive. You wish you could see his face right now, but that'd blow your cover, and you're going to be too busy blowing him.

His poor pen bears the weight of his restraint, teeth sinking into the cheap plastic covering and nearly puncturing the inkwell within the center. The professor's speaking. The class is entirely silent aside from them, and Satan couldn't stand to bear the embarrassment of moaning mid-lecture like Asmodeus had once done eons ago.

"Satan? Page 164, if you please."

Oh no.

He stands slowly, his left hand gripping the edge of his desk to the point his fingers turn white, his right hand shakily holding the textbook as he sucks in a sharp breath. The desk is at waist height, barely tall enough to hide you sucking his cock like it's the last source of water within an endless desert.

"Magical... Magical Creatures, Chapter Seventeen. The Gryffin is a-ah! A mythological beast whose body resembles that of a lion from the humAN world, and possesses the wings and head of an eagle. They range in size from as SMALL as ah... a mouse to as large as a small tank."

"Thank you, Satan. That will be enough. Are you alright?"

"Y-Yes! I'm perfectly fine! Just... a bit under the weather is all."

"Are you sure? I believe it would be in your best interest to see the nurse."

"I'll be j-just fine. I just need to relax a bit more."

Oh, he'll relax alright.

The professor dismisses him without another word, ending his lecture and instructing the class to continue reading the rest of the chapter on their own. Satan sits with a shaky sigh, cheeks flushed from embarrassment and sweat dripping down his face. He surely intends to show you who's in charge when the two of you get home, but as for now, you're the one holding the metaphorical leash.

As soon as he's relaxed enough, you decide it's time to up your game. Without any warning, your nose is pressed up against his torso, his dick down your throat as far as it can reach. It's a miracle how you can keep quiet with all the spit and the pace you're bobbing your head. He's digging his claws into the seat of his chair now, surely leaving deep cuts that go against the grain of the wood.

He's so fucking close to reaching a peak. Satan hides his head in his arms, forehead pressing against the cool lumber next to his open textbook. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as he struggles to resist coming undone. All he needs is just a bit more. He's torn between wanting to finish and wanting to maintain his dignity in front of his peers, but there's only so much he can do when you're sucking his soul out so feverously.

Satan gives up. He gives up almost completely as his body begins to shake and his claws dig further into the dark oak of his desk. He lets out a sharp whimper, filling your throat with a flowing white river. His classmates and professor look at him, concerned for his wellbeing.

Satan is panting, shaking, barely holding himself together at this point. He pants and takes a few deep breaths to catch his own before looking up at the professor.

"Satan? I do believe you'd better go to the nurse before your condition worsens."

You're quick to clean him up and fix his clothing. Satan's still shaky but agrees with the professor after noticing nothing would be amiss if he chose to stand, thanks to you.

"You're right, Professor. I'll be heading there at once. I-I apologize for concerning you all."

He gathers his belongings and shakily exits the classroom without another word. Some students utter words of concern as his legs threaten to give out with every step. You have no choice but to remain silent in place until the end of the lecture, only able to escape the room once all the other students and the professor have left first.

As the last of the students leave, you join the endless sea of demons and other magical beings flooding the halls between classes. You make your way to the nurse's office, deciding to check and see if your friend is "recovering" alright. Satan's in the third bed, closest to the wall and farthest from the door. The nurse is out for a moment, not an unusual circumstance considering it's their lunch hour.

"You! You almost got us caught with your little stunt in there! I can't believe you had the... the... the audacity to go that far! I didn't expect you to continue until I finished! We're unbelievably lucky the professor mistook me for being unwell."

Satan sighs as you draw closer and sit on the edge of his bed, taking his hand and bringing it to cup your cheek. He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, sighing.

"Well... I suppose it wasn't all bad. That was... exhilarating, to say the least, even if it may be a bit troublesome to deal with the aftermath. Maybe this sort of thing wouldn't be bad every once in a while. I'm glad we got to explore this side of our relationship together."

He always gets so sweet and sappy after he's coming down from a high. It's sweet. He's always going on about how much he loves you and how he's so happy you both can be as rough or as gentle as the other needs them to be. Unfortunately for him, you're not ready to be sappy. There's still one more thing on your mind, and it's back in his pants.

You stand and pull the privacy curtain shut, closing the view of the bed off from the rest of the world. He stammers, questioning exactly what it is you're doing, a tiny glint of fear peaking through his normally collected demeanor. You turn towards him once more, staring him down as a cat does an injured mouse.

Your pants and undergarments hit the cold tile of the infirmary floor. You climb onto his bed, legs straddling his thighs as you pull his pants and boxers low enough to expose his half-hard cock. He's visibly excited, but his long refractory period prevents him from standing at full attention for a few more minutes. No matter, you reposition your core and take him in completely.

His growling and whining resurface and he lets out an unrestrained moan that fills the room. It's fortunate you two are the only ones in the infirmary, otherwise, there would have been no hiding exactly what's happening behind the thin white linen walls.

You grind against him with every drop of your hips, the pace unbearably fast as his erection continues to harden within you. Your nails dig into his chest, and his own claw at the sheets of the bed, eager to grab hold of something but not wanting to hurt you. He doesn't trust himself not to dig his claws into those thighs he loves so much when he can't even be bothered to restrain his voice for the moment.

Incoherent, muffled voices outside the door begin to grow louder as passing students flood the halls on their way to their dorms and extracurriculars. The only thing you're concerned with is riding him like the insatiable, cock-hungry animal you've become.

"Please! Ngh, fuck! I'm about to cum again! You need to slow down before-- Ah!"

Fuck his moans are beautiful. They start off melodic and end with an enticingly lewd growl. You didn't know he could be this expressive in bed before today. He's practically begging for mercy, still sensitive from the classroom shenanigans.

You do not grant it.

Satan's back arches and his hips thrust upward into you as he orgasms a second time. You're lifted up as his hips stutter beneath you, voice filling the room with lewd curses strung together as his eyes roll to the back of his head and the sheets begin to tear under his grip. He begins to still after a few moments, but you don't stop. You don't even slow down.

Satan's hands frantically look for anything to ground himself, worsening the tears in the fabric below him. His frantic gaze lands on the pillow lying underneath his head. He grabs at it, hoping for something to help relieve the intensity of the high you're pushing him towards, but in his overstimulated and careless state, he can't control his own strength. It takes mere seconds before there's a mess of feathery down and fabric scraps surrounding the head of the infirmary bed.

His eyes are starting to glow. Feathers are pushing out sporadically against the skin around his neck. Horns pierce through the golden hair on his crown His canines are growing sharper and his growls start sounding far less than human. There's not much left of his ability to control himself, though with you there was hardly ever any to begin with.

His claws slip from the mangled mess of a pillow and find their way to your hips, digging his nails into your sides and rutting up into your core; fucking his seed deeper without the restraint he desperately clung to before. His speed is almost unbearable. The way his cock drills into all the right places has you seeing stars and crying his name in response.

The thrusts are losing their regularity. Hips stuttering and nails threatening to pierce the soft skin of your hips, Satan bites down on his own lip until he's the one bleeding; filling you for a third time this afternoon.

It's almost unbearable. With the way his cum flows out of you like a river, you're mindlessly thanking yourself for having the foresight to make sure neither of you were still wearing your uniform pants.

With shaky legs and sweat covering both of your bodies, you fall to the side to catch your breath, grabbing some nearby tissues and cleaning the both of you up enough to at least redress before someone walks in and manages to put two and two together.

Satan's head flops to the side to gaze at you; chest heaving with every breath.

"Haah--that was... that was amazing." A hand comes up to push back his golden locks to unobscure bright green eyes, softening as they settle upon your glowing form.

His hand comes to rest gently against your cheek as he tilts your chin for a tender kiss, wanting to cherish this moment. As much as you want to indulge him and relish this moment, the growing sound of clicking heels interrupts the saccharine air of your post-orgasm bliss.

You shoot out of his infirmary bed, standing up straight and wiping the remaining sweat off your face in a flash, just in time for RAD's nurse to pull back the curtain and stick a thermometer in his mouth without a word. A minute passes silently without them acknowledging your presence. until the thermometer's beep cuts through the still air.

"Hm." The nurse pulls the thermometer out of his mouth and jots down the reading onto their clipboard.

"Professor called ahead for this one. Sweating, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing, abnormal behavior in class, sluggish and lethargic disposition. Sounds like a classic fever." The nurse turns towards you.

"You live in the same building, correct? Make sure he gets home safe and gets plenty of rest and fluids. He should be fine by Monday if he listens and takes some standard fever-reducing medicine from the drugstore. He's to stay strictly on bedrest until he can stand without losing his balance. "

"Oh don't worry. He'll definitely be getting that bedrest."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tags: @snowsnetwork

[the-night-that-feeds-if]

It's time for the flash fiction about Maddock!!

[652 words]

--A little bit of what Maddock was doing before, sorry for any errors, I wrote with my heart :3--

He trudges his way through the snow, the wild wind biting and cruel. His dark hair whips around him, his breath running ragged, he can't stop now, he can't. He spent too long tracking the beast, the Void-damned thing almost shook him, it ends now. He pushes forward, his strong legs sinking into the snow further with each step, he grits his teeth, annoyance burning bright in his veins.

This monster has been actively taunting the folk who live up this high, in the places where his Majesty the King refuses to send aid to the border towns, always ripe for an attack and essentially defenseless. These towns are expendable to the Monarchy, they live too far for them to care it seems.

And so they need people like him, people with skills enough to take down the creatures that come from the Void, laying waste to good honest folk, just trying to live, old traditions kept alive through these people, remembering the old ways. That's probably the real reason why the King doesn't give a shit, these people aren't cowards, they won't bow and he knows that, so he sees fit to stay his hand while they die off.

Maddock fucking hates that. People deserve to live as they like, as long as they don't cause suffering, so what if they like praying to trees?

The wind hits harder, as if it wasn't horrible enough, he pushes on, gripping his furs closer to his body, refusing to give in to this chill. He's been living up here for nigh on ten years, doing his job, accepting whatever the people can spare, even if it's just a meal for the night. Though it's spent mostly alone, it's better that way, better to be alone than to cause harm again…

A frantic cry warbles out into the air around him, the equal sound of a woman crying, and an otherworldly screaming. His mouth presses into a stoic line. It's time.

He grabs a fistful of iron and salt from his pack. It won't cause a ton of damage, though it'll be enough to distract this creature. From the treeline he spots a faint apparition, a woman in her wedding clothes. The weeping intensifies, for a moment, just a moment, he feels unfathomable pity for this creature, for its cruel existence.

As soon as the feeling came, it was gone. Maddock charges forward through the snow, unsteadily making his way closer, the creature waits, as if expecting this. As soon as he's close enough, he flings the fistful of iron and salt at it, the creature emits a horrific gurgling sound, he narrows his eyes, grabs his sword.

The dance fully begins.

-

He sits upon a rock jutting from the crisp white sea of snow, his brow coated in sweat, he holds his sword arm, hisses in pain, then folds the furs over to reveal a deep bite, courtesy from the creature's dagger-like teeth. He quickly rustles around in his pack, grabs the pot of honey he always carries with him, he uncorks it with one hand, dropping the lid to his side, he gingerly scoops a viscous blob of it onto the wound. He cries out, momentarily stunned by the pain, a tear slips from his eye, and rolls down to his upper lip before freezing in place.

Before him a dazzling light calls attention to itself, he stares at it, incredulous. The light coalesces into a golden blob, and then, it speaks.

"Dear friend, it is time for your self imposed isolation to end--"

He knows that voice, he huffs out a laugh as it continues with its message.

"I know you'd not come under normal circumstances, stubborn man that you are, so I'm calling in one of my favors, meet someone for me at the port in Aisley, won't you dear? I have all the details for you.."

Damn it, Safira.

[k--havok]

Gonna share another longish snippet from Soft Touches, Godless Hands mainly due to the fact that I'm on the last chapter and am so excited to finally finish this project.

Warnings: Blood, Gore, and self-harm.

--

CRASH!

The mirror crumbled around their fist, spiderwebs cracking out from the point of impact. The knuckles split wide open, oozing blood around the glass shards now lodged in flesh.

The pain smarted. But was nothing compared to the klaxons from before. Even now, as Auriel picked the glass out of the wounds to allow the blood to run faster, they watched as skin knitted itself back together; their own power forcing the body to stay alive. To keep them alive. A miracle that was as automatic as breathing was to living creatures. They could not fight it.

Pink. Pink. Pink. Auriel dropped the pieces of glass on the ground, not caring if they happened to step on them with bare feet. Leaning over the counter of the bathroom, Auriel pressed fingers into one of the long shards of glass clinging onto the mirror. The jagged edge bit into the pads of their borrowed fingers as they peeled it from the back of the mirror. Clenching the shard in their fist, Auriel twisted the sharp point inward, and thrust it into their sternum, piercing the diaphragm. They pushed it deeper into them until the end of the shard scraped against the front of their spine.

Immediately, blood and saliva bubbled on Auriel's human lips. They coughed, hard, as they struggled to suck in enough oxygen. Without losing grip on the glass shard, they yanked it hard out of their human body. Blood gushed out of the open wound, staining the navel crimson. The blood dripped even lower, caressing the pubic mound, until it dripped from the outer labia onto the tile floor.

Gripping the front of the bathroom sink, Auriel panted, more coughs bleeding from between the teeth. Lungs, hungry for oxygen, desperately demanded more and more air with every agonizing breath. The diaphragm trembled, unable to move properly, and so each breath caused a throb of piercing pain to shock each pain gate open, alighting Auriel's borrowed human brain with a flood of neurotransmitters. The body, too, flooded with immediate hormonal responses.

That taste of adrenaline nearly pricked their tongue, a taste so sweet against the tang of metal coating the tongue.

But death did not visit Auriel. Death did not even bother to glance in their direction. And although the heart briefly halted its insistent ba-bum, ba-bum, it, too, eventually returned to normal. Skin stitched back together. the diaphragm patched itself up, reinflating itself. The short, choppy breaths that Auriel had to fight for mere moments evened out.

The blood still dripped from the outer labia. Crimson still shone beneath the fluorescent bathroom lights. And metal still danced wickedly across their tongue. But the human body quickly returned to its balancing act of homeostasis.

The sweet taste of adrenaline. Of sweat. Of blood. Did not touch them. And even now, Auriel found the quick moment slipping through the synapses of the brain's neurons like sand through fingers.

Plink. Plink. Plink.

The blood continued to drip, even as the wound sealed itself shot, not even a pucker of scar tissue behind.