#michael has lusted

[pnutsdotorg]

FUCK. CALL ME PNUT THE WAY IM EXHIBITING SYMPTOMS

[mars-ipan]

i forgot that youtube comment analysis is almost never correct and just had. a solid chuckle

[vidavalor]

Crowley actually says a barely-coded "I love you" to Aziraphale back in 2.03

In his proposal in the S2 finale, Crowley told us that he and Aziraphale know they're in love and have known it for damn ever but they pretend they're not a couple. This, by default, means that they've not specifically said the words "I love you" before, by Crowley's own admission. They've said I love you in their own little language and we've watched it before. It's little demonic miracle of my own. It's don't go unscrewing the cap. It's just a little bit of a good person and just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing... But what Crowley says in the S2 finale is that they've never-- ever-- said in 6,000 years is just I love you in those normal people, human words. It has always been too dangerous for too many reasons to count so they have euphemisms for it and whole conversations around it and have made that be enough. Why do I bring this up? Because Crowley found a middle ground between the words and their coded language with one another in S2 and it's flying under the radar.

So you know that scene when Muriel has shown up and interrupts Crowley and Aziraphale talking in the back room? The one where while Crowley is speaking, Aziraphale suddenly looks like he's about to pass out with sheer want? Yes, our angel always looks at Crowley like he hung the damn moon (which he did but lol...) but this scene is different. This scene is like... someone get Aziraphale a chair and a glass a water because he is pupils-dilated, audibly breathing, and eyeing up Crowley with naked want. More than the lust? He looks happy. He looks delighted. You can basically hear his heart race from that look on his face. Why here? Yes, Crowley looks hot. Yes, he's in profile in a way that is a visual parallel to Before the Beginning (which was an inspired choice for this scene.) Yes, he's here with a Plan and taking charge of the Muriel situation and swaying his hips a bit while he speaks. It's not any of that. Those are nice bonuses. Aziraphale likes them. He gets them all the time. It's what Crowley said in this moment. To Aziraphale. Through what he said to Muriel.

Crowley cracks a dry, kinda dark joke that is meant for an audience of one: just Aziraphale. He knows Muriel won't get it. Since Muriel is cosplaying as what they think is a human Inspector Constable and they are here to verify the miracle Aziraphale has told Heaven and so are monitoring them, Crowley quips that Muriel is here to spy on them (since they, well, are, actually) and that he knows that many human police officers like to make a bit of a hobby out of spying on "people in love."

People. In. Love.

In a one-two punch in the same sentence, Crowley called him and Aziraphale queer humans and he called what they have love, using the actual word *aloud* for the first time in 6,000 years. He said he loved Aziraphale in front of an angel of Heaven in a little coded joke but this time, using the coded bit to say the real thing for the first time.

Then, just to hammer it all home and make sure that Aziraphale really knows it was very much intentional, Crowley says 'love' again in the next sentence. He starts going on about how Muriel can come to him anytime with any questions about love and he's happy to assist with their understanding of human love with all of his implied vast, vast years of experience with the subject and how he'll be here to answer their questions, in the bookshop, while Aziraphale drives his car to Edinburgh.

Go back and tell Heaven I'm here, Inspector Constable, I don't give a fuck anymore. *We* don't give a fuck anymore. You go tell The Archangel Michael that I'm who they're going to get managing Angelic Embassy X aka The Bookshop until Aziraphale gets back-- yep, me, former Demon of Hell. The Boyfriend in the Dark Sunglasses. He's asked me to, which is his way of saying he wants to stop hiding and asking me not to sneak out to my car in the middle of the night which hallefuckinglujah, Inspector Constable... Go tell Their Beatitudes that we ravish each other all over the bookshop. You won't even be lying. As Maggie'll put it later in the season: I'm done being afraid all the time. I love him. We're in love. There's your hot intel.

Aziraphale:

Aziraphale: Inspector Constable, be a dear and spray me down with all 700 of our fire extinguishers, will you?

[repulsiveliquidation]

Melted Ice Cream || Leah Williamson and Alexia Putellas

warnings : smut 18+, cunnilingus, food play, fingering, Daddy Alexia. player on player, reader only mentioned.

Based on the poem ‘Melting Ice Cream’ by Michael Faudet in his book ‘Playing with Matches."

orgy spinoff. Should I continue the orgy and work on the last part? 

“Could you get the door, love?” you yell from the kitchen, basting a steak that was seconds away from medium rare. Leah rushes to the front door, heart pounding in her chest. She’s been waiting weeks for this date and she’s over the moon the special day is finally here. 

Leah opens the heavy door and rushes at the person that stood behind it. Strong arms wrap around her middle and lift her off the ground, stepping into the delicious smelling house. 

“Ale, finally,” Leah sighs into Alexia’s neck, feet touching the ground again. 

“Hi amor, missed me that much eh?” Alexia teases, pecking Leah on the lips. Leah rolls her eyes and scoffs, taking Alexia’s bag into the master bedroom. The Spaniard searches for the kitchen, following the scent of butter browning and rosemary burning. 

The figure slicing away at cucumbers doesn’t hear or see the guest she has in her home, occupied with her cooking the perfect meal for her newest lover. 

“You’re realistically the only thing I’m hungry for tonight,” Alexia says cheesily as her arms snake around your middle. You’re startled but relax into her arms, leaning back into her chest as her lips leave little kisses on the shell of your ear. 

“I’m sure Leah’s got something planned that should whet your appetite,” you quip, turning around in her arms. She looks down at you proudly, leaning in for a kiss. 

It’s searing and full of lust, lips molding into each other perfectly. You both get lost in each other when someone clears their throat. 

“I’m beginning to feel very left out here, Ale.” 

“I’m sorry darling,” Alexia pulls away from you and saunters over to Leah. “Can I show you how much I've missed you?”

“Baby?” you ask, reaching into the cupboard to pull out your mandolin. 

“Yeah?” Both of them answer and it sends them into a fit of giggles, leaving you shaking your head at your silly girls. 

“You’ve got twenty minutes, angels. Not a minute more.” 

“That’s plenty,” Alexia says, taking Leah’s hand. “Come on, we’ve got time to kill.” 

Alexia leaves the door wide open, picking Leah up and throwing her onto the fluffy bed. Alexia notices the array of toys laid out on the nightstand, along with a strap that looked appealing but would have to wait till later. 

“Wait here.” 

Leah looks up at the Spaniard and nods, getting comfortable on the bed. Alexia goes back into the kitchen and rummages through the freezer for something; you hear a bowl and silverware but decide to pay no mind, the asparagus in front of you wasn’t going to blanch itself. 

Alexia comes back into the room and Leah’s eyes narrow when she sees the bowl in her hands. 

“What’s that? I swear if you’ve brought me in here to share the soup she’s made I’ll shove you back on a plane to Spain.” 

“No,” Alexia smirks, setting it on the bed. “Strip.” 

Leah is still understandably skeptical but does as she says, pulling the Barça jersey (which she secretly wore only in the house) off over her head. Leah arches off the bed and pushes her gym shorts off, legs spreading wide open for her girlfriend whose eyes turned dark. 

“Good girl mommy,” Alexia praises, standing at the edge of the bed. She takes a spoon of whatever was in the bowl and eats it, before leaning over Leah and kissing her. 

“Mmh,” Leah moans, swapping the cold dollop of ice-cream between their mouths. The sticky sweet vanilla ice-cream melted and made their kiss sweeter than it already was, leaving them wanting more. 

“That was so hot,” Leah whispers, watching eagerly as Alexia feeds herself more of the sweet treat. 

Alexia smashes her lips onto her lovers again, now climbing onto the bed. One hand holds herself above Leah while the other makes itself busy between Leah’s legs. 

Alexia feels Leah’s arousal spike, folds sticky and warm like their mouths were as the ice cream was swallowed. The ceramic bowl didn’t hold its temperature well, so there was melted ice cream around the scoop. Alexia, feeling a light go off in her brain, gathers a spoonful of it and drizzles it all over Leah’s chest. 

“Oops,” Alexia teases, watching as Leah’s skin prickles with goosebumps. “Guess I’ll have to clean up this mess I made.” 

“Yeah, you s–should,” Leah whines, head tilted down to watch Alexia lick up her mess. 

Alexia kisses Leah all over her chest, marking her with hickeys. She drags her tongue through the ice cream, sucking up the pearly white mess. 

“You taste so good, bebita,” Alexia praises, suckling on Leah’s breast. She kneads the other gently, flicking her tongue over the hard nipple. Alexia reaches for more ice cream, taking Leah’s breast back into her mouth to play with. 

Leah writhes and whines, lips begging for Alexia to touch her where she needs. 

“Please Ale, lower…need you lower…” 

“Ale?” 

Leah’s brain short circuits and she sputters, feeling Alexia’s fingers go back to her clit. 

“Daddy, please…” 

“That’s better,” Alexia praises, fingers rubbing Leah’s clit faster. Her free hand slaps Leah’s breast hard which sends painful pleasure through the England skipper, her clit throbbing harder and harder. Alexia could feel it and it stroked her ego more than she dared to admit. 

“Tell Daddy where you want it mi vida,” Alexia coos, fingers teasing Leah’s entrance. “Hurry baby, we don’t have much time sí?” 

“I–In my pussy Daddy, hurts…” Leah whined, back arching off the bed as Alexia’s thick fingers slipped into her pussy. She lets out a deep sigh and chuckles deliriously, hips grinding down onto Alexia’s fingers. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me no?” 

“Yes Daddy, only for Daddy,” 

“Oh? You’re not good for her too?” Alexia teases, fingers pressing hard on Leah’s sweet spot. Her other hand presses down on Leah’s hips and holds her down, the captain squirming in her hold. 

“I am! Good for you both,” Leah whimpers, eyes rolling back into her head when Alexia finger fucks her hard all of a sudden. The Spaniard smirks and pumps her fingers into her lover faster, watching as the skipper falls apart.

Alexia stops, taking the last bit of cold ice cream into her mouth before turning her attention back to Leah. Without warning, Alexia shoves her fingers back into Leah, a third slipping in alongside the other two that were pruning from how wet Leah was. 

“Alexia!” Leah screams when Alexia suckles on her clit. The cold contrast of her mouth and the heat from all the blood that flooded her core was too much for Leah and she is sent head first into the most mind numbing orgasm she’s had in a while. 

Leah’s thighs shake, her body jolts and her hands grip Alexia’s hair hard. She begs and begs for Alexia to stop but she doesn't until everything has been taste tested first. 

“The ice cream only made you tastier darling, remind me to bring sprinkles next time,” Alexia grins, licking her lips. Leah laid there starstruck, desperately trying to wrap her head around what she just experienced. 

“Girls! Dinner’s ready!” 

“Coming!” 

Alexia helps Leah clean up quickly, helping her throw her Barça jersey back on. 

“How much did she pay you to wear that?” 

“There were a lot of zeroes.” 

[sadesluvr]

Doctor's Orders - S. Raglan x Reader x M. Schmidt

You and Mike are having intimacy issues, and Dr Raglan is the best couples therapist in town.

A/N: Pure filth and nothing more. This might be the dirtiest fic I've ever made...Minors DNI

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: Threesomes / Cuckolding / Dom + Sub dynamics / Age gaps – Steve is in his 50’s, Reader and Mike are in their mid 20s / Hints of manipulation / Abuse of power / Oral sex, fem and male receiving / Breeding / Humiliation / Overstimulation / Sex rivalry / Unprotected sex  / Dirty talk

Dr Raglan was a renowned couples therapist in your town, which was why you were so eager to see him with your boyfriend Mike. Even though you’d been together for a while, when it came to sex you’d found that he had trouble staying ‘up’, and even reaching orgasm. He insisted it wasn’t you, but the egotistical part of you worried that you weren’t enough.

Still, you would’ve never guessed that, upon hearing your issues, the doctor would’ve been gracious to extend the session by another hour, free of charge. It slightly worried you that your issues were apparently that bad, but you took it anyway.

“I like you two,” Steve said. “A lot, actually. I’m very happy to help you out,”

He wasn’t lying. He’d been lusting over you for the whole session, his cock growing hard at how desperate you were to get through to Mike, even willing to do the work on your part. You were such a sweet, attentive little girlfriend, and yet Mike seemed like a total loser. Utterly powerless.

The pair of you were still sitting down as he got up, walking around to stand behind you and place his large hands on your shoulders. He smirked as Mike looked at him, ready to argue, whilst you seemed uncomfortable.

“I’m going to use Y/N here as an example,” he said, instructing you to stand up. He didn’t even bother to ask for your permission - you were nothing but a toy. A toy and a tool to be fucked. It was going to help your issues, after all. 

You stood up, and he cupped a finger under your chin so that you looked into his eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“Strip,” he said, and your eyes grew wide.

“Y/N, don’t  —“ Mike interjected, sticking out a hand defensively, but Steve stopped him.

“That’s your problem, Mike. Stop trying to be the hero,” he said forcefully. You hesitated before squeezing Michael’s hand and beginning to undress. You loved Mike more than anything, and wanted to move towards the next stage of your relationship. 

Mr Raglan knew best.

As you undressed, you noticed a visible bulge in Steve’s pants, and Mike, though quiet, seemed to be developing one too, but hid it with his hands. Their eyes were filled with lust, and Dr Raglan seemed to hum with approval as he took in your semi-nude body as you assumed your position on top of his desk.

You were undressed all for him; naive and exposed to what was about to come. 

He was ready to fucking consume you.

But he had to be professional.

“You see, your intimacy problem has nothing to do with her, and everything with you,” he said, pointing at Mike. “She’s such a cute little thing with a body just begging bred. Any man would be lucky to have her…And yet you can’t appreciate something good. Why is that?”

Steve smirked as he saw your legs twitch at the mention of breeding, and he looked between the pair of you knowingly. Mike seemed unresponsive, whilst you were like a deer in headlights.

“You’re building it up too much. You keep thinking things are going to be mind-blowing, and that you’re going to be the best she’s ever had, but in actuality it’ll probably be average. You need to learn to live with being disempowered,”

You glanced over worriedly at Mike. Perhaps the loss of his brother was the root of the deeper issue?

“Has he touched you here?” Steve said, his large hands reaching to massage your breasts. His hands were cold whilst your chest was warm, causing your nipples to harden against his touch. The older man chuckled, rolling the bud against his fingers before he tugged them, showing them off to your boyfriend. He’d barely done anything, and you were responding to him so well.

“Y-Yes…” 

“Do you usually get turned on so quickly?”

“I’m not—“ you protested, trying to ignore the growing heat between your thighs. “—It’s just because your hands are cold,”

“Sure. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said mockingly. “How about you have your boyfriend come warm you up?”

You looked over pleadingly at Michael and he obliged, getting up to place his hand on your other breast, but not without giving Dr Raglan a side eye, to which the older man brushed off. You stared up at them with glassy eyes as they fondled your breasts, with Mike’s touch more gentle compared to Steve’s pawing. You weren’t oblivious to Raglan’s now hardened bulge either, as he pressed his groin into the bare skin of your knee, teasing you with what was to come.

“Doesn’t look like you’re doing a good job there, Mike,” he said matter of factly. “Unsurprising, considering everything I know about you. Let me show you how to take care of business,” 

His bigger frame pushed Mike to the side, and you could see him clench his fists in frustration. Steve stared down at you hungrily, one of his hands sliding past your breast to grab the base of your neck; squeezing it ever so slightly as his other hand made its way to your panties. He spread your legs so that you were on display, his thick fingers rubbing against your slit through the material. 

“I bet I can make her cum just from my hands…” he said, staring down at Mike who remained in his seat. As much as he hated watching a perverted older man like Raglan touch you, part of him was actually enjoying it. He knew you were hot, and to see someone making you feel as sexy and liberated as you deserved made him feel good in turn. Perhaps the Doctor was right - he needed to be comfortable feeling powerless.

“You said you’ve tried oral sex, correct?” Steve said, clearing his throat. You looked up at him and nodded shyly, and he tutted.

“I want you to say it,” he insisted, briefly removing his hands from your panties. “Tell me what you do to him,”

“Um —“ you said, flustered from the sudden loss of pressure. “I touch him through his pants first. He’s usually hard then, so I take it out — I don’t suck him off immediately, I like to keep it going with my hands…” 

Steve began to unbuckle his belt before pulling down his zipper and taking out his cock through the hole, beginning to stroke it lazily as you droned on about trying to please your boyfriend. He was aching to see you in all the degrading positions you’d put yourself in for Mike’s benefit (to no success), even more so at the prospect of being in front of him. 

“Show me,” Steve groaned, positioning his cock towards your face. “Give me everything you’ve been craving,”

You abided by his words and stroked him, moaning as he resumed his motions on top of your panties. He was bigger than Mike, and you could feel him throb in your hands with every tug, desperate to penetrate your lips. You remained like this for a moment before the older man pushed your panties to the side, the cool hair sending shivers down your hot cunt. Steve greedily pushed two of his lithe fingers inside of you, grunting at the sensation as he felt the insides of your thigh on his arms, grazing his hairs ever so slightly.

“She’s fucking dripping,” he laughed, staring Mike in the eye. “She feels so good down here. I wonder how her mouth feels —“ he stated, and angled your head around his cock. You took it in your mouth instinctively, eyes widening in shock as he hit the back of your throat unexpectedly. Steve was almost completely feral; wasting no time in thrusting deeper into your mouth whilst his fingers explored your fold, making sure to rub your clit.

“—Like heaven,” he purred, and it was as if something deeper had arisen within him. “Don’t be shy Mike. You should get in on this,” he teased, giving the younger man all but two seconds before focusing back onto you. You were mewling and writhing under his power, and if he were a teenager he probably would’ve cum right there and then. Luckily for him, he was a man now.

Mike obeyed, and quietly made his way between your legs, watching in awe at the way your juices coated the man’s fingers. It looked heavenly; and it killed him to think he was missing out. All he ever wanted to do was please you.

He unzipped his trousers, freeing his cock so that he could touch himself. He inched towards your spread pussy, one hand on his cock and the other keeping your panties out of the way and practically dived in, eagerly lapping at your folds, causing Steve to hum in amusement.

The sensation was painfully overwhelming, with Steve’s fingers now rubbing at your hood, and Mike’s lips licking and sucking on your insides. It was beyond pornographic, and you wondered whether this was genuinely helpful or just a self-serving ruse. 

“Ugh,” you moaned, and pushed Mike’s head deeper into you, prompting yet another reaction from Steve.

“Seems like he can do something well, hm? I suppose this is the part where everything goes to shit?”

“For your information, I never said I couldn’t make her cum,” Mike snapped, staring daggers into Steve as he momentarily drew himself away from your cunt. 

“I’ll admit –” he began, stopping to groan as he began thrusting faster into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing around his cock and nose repeatedly making contact with his pants, “--That’s impressive, but it’s child’s play. You’re a child, Mike. She needs a real man…” 

Even though it was wrong, your pussy twitched around Mike as the pair bickered; using your body like a ragdoll. You weren’t a person to them, but a vessel, and it was sparking something within Mike that you hadn’t seen, licking along your folds and up towards your clit, flicking his tongue upon the nub as two fingers pumped into you. All he’d needed was a bit of ‘friendly’ competition.

“Mike —” you whimpered against Steve’s cock. “I’m gonna —”

“Get off her, Mike,” Steve commanded, and the younger man obeyed, his frustration growing deeper. The Dr drew himself from your face, leaving a trail of spit against your swollen lips.

“That’s not how this is going to go –” he stated, guiding your body so that you were spread flat on top of his desk, your legs dangling off of the sides. Steve towered above you, and even though Mike was in the room you felt like a shrew underneath his predatory gaze, waiting to be devoured. You stared up at him with wide eyes, and you almost came as he smiled down at you, a large, calloused hand rubbing along the sides of your body, spreading your cunt effortlessly with two fingers and admiring the mess you’d made.

“--I’m gonna fuck her, and you’re gonna watch. Got it?” he said forcefully, staring Mike down. “Don’t try to save her, Mike. She doesn’t need saving. Let it go,”

Mike nodded, and Steve barely gave you any time to react before he thrust into you, practically gasping at the hot, wet sensation against his aching cock. His grip on your legs were firm, slinging them around his waist so that he had full control over you, relishing in the sight of your breasts moving with every motion, and your mouth agape as he filled you up. Mike was stroking himself, his face flushed as he watched you intently, completely inebriated on oxytocin. There were no sympathetic smiles or gentle hugs when he couldn’t ‘perform’, but a different person entirely - the sex goddess you deserved to be. It was dirty, and so very wrong, but he was enjoying every moment.

Steve’s thrusts were getting faster now, to the point that you could feel his thighs slap against your own, much more his heavy balls against your aching pussy, causing the desk to creak. His eyes darkened as one hand made its way to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly as his cock seemed to hit at you from every angle.

“You like this, hmm?” he cooed, a large smirk wiped across his face. “Getting fucked by an older man whilst your mess of a boyfriend watches? He can’t make you moan like I do, huh?” 

You could barely answer, but managed to shake your head.

“Hm, you’re pretty fucked up, aren’t you? I think you and I should have a little private session n’ work some of those issues through…”

You moaned louder, and Steve let out a gleeful cackle before looking over at Mike, who was in a daze. 

“I consider myself a fair guy. Get over here,” he gestured to him, and once he was there you took Mike’s cock in your mouth, helping him finish what had been started. He threw his head back as you eagerly licked and sucked on his tip, using your hands to stroke his base and steady him in your mouth. 

You’d reached complete overstimulation; and you could feel a familiar heat pooling in your stomach, your body instinctively beginning to grind itself on Steve’s cock. Mike drew himself deeper into your mouth, briefly making you choke at his desperate motions, and Steve placed his hands onto your hips, holding you down and beginning to fuck you mercilessly.

“Touch her,” he ordered, and Mike began rubbing your pussy in circles, adding to the unfathomable feeling. “Feel how much she’s trembling because of me. She’s such a slut, you know that? You might own her heart, but I own her pussy – Fuck – She’s perfect...”

The sound of his throaty voice made you unravel, and you threw your head back as you came, desperately pulling Mike into a kiss as you did. It was euphoric, made all the more otherworldly when Steve said a certain few words:

“I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up real good, like a real man does. Didn’t you see the way she begged and moaned for me? Our pretty little fucktoy —”

He came with a loud groan and his glasses almost slid off of his face as he lurched forward whilst his fingers left marks on your skin as he held you down to pump his hot, heavy seed into your aching hole. You were both sweaty, and you felt your eyes flutter shut from the exhaustion. As Steve rode off his high he drew his hips back, watching his seed slowly drip out of you and onto his desk. 

Smirking, he caught his breath before walking over to assume Mike’s position at your mouth, looking down at him expectedly.

“It’s your turn. I hope you don’t mind the mess I’ve made,”

@dij-ology

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Alfie noticing that guys who are way younger than him (like Michael? John?) having a thing for reader, who is close to age to these young gentlemen but has only eyes for ol' man Alfie? Thoughts?

Near Deadly Sin

Alfie Solomons x F!Reader; fluff

AN: IM BAAAAACCCCKKK hello my loves it’s taking me forever to write again but I’m glad to be back. I miss you all and hope you all are doing well!!! MUAH - Mo

No. No this acidic flame burning between his ribs is not jealousy.

Not at all.

The embers stoked in his chest. The flames licking up his neck and around his ears. These are normal… manly… sensible reactions.

Alfie had been invited for ‘drinks’ with the Shelbys. He had refused adamantly, and was only coerced upon your promise to accompany him and to never. leave. his. sight. As if you would ever be far from him or out of his thunderous gaze. But as he is sitting across from Thomas and Arthur and Polly, he is regretting ever bringing you near this nonsense. This den of wolves and snakes. The murmurs of Thomas faded like the crackle of a radio as he focused in on John Shelby’s lustful gaze over you. With every sweep of his young and unbridled eyes and suck of his teeth, Alfie became more and more enraged. Not that you noticed. You didn’t notice John’s roving eyes or the quickening pulse of your husband next to you. You were content sipping the tea Polly served, making quiet conversation with Ada in the corner, holding a babbling Karl.

Alfie knew there was supposed to be a deal or something tonight. Or maybe an update on a job. Or something. It didn’t matter. Fuck the business. Fuck the Shelbys. Fuck John Shelby. Fuck it all. Standing quickly, pushing through the screaming pain of his back, Alfie grunts, “Darling get your coat. We’re done here.”

Your head spun, “Meyn Likht?”

“Up. Coat. Now. Cyril needs us.”

You press your lips in a firm line. Holding back your tongue from lashing at him for his impromptu exit. You knew what he actually meant. Thinking of Cyril was his code for indicating murderous intent that needed to be snuffed out immediately. You watch Alfie as you slip on your coat, going to Thomas to whisper something just out of your reach. Had you heard him, you would have heard the volcanic timber of his voice promise, “You control that little brother of yours Tommy yeah? It’s against holy law to look at another man’s wife like he been doing. Will have to go back to Mosaic law if he don’t shape up.”

With heavy stomps he approaches John, who is trying yet failing to keep a stone expression. “You keep them eyes to yourself little boy. Or someone may just take ‘em from you.”

“Darling? Cyril needs to be let out and will not wait for you!”

With a firm pat on the cheek Alfie turned away, gripping your waist firmly, hand as hot as a brand on the skin under your dress.

-

It’s late now, Alfie is fuming under the crisp sheets and thick quilts layered living on the soft bed. He’s pretending to read. Putting on his glasses and taking them back off again to stare at the ceiling. You emerge from the bathroom, face flush from the hot water, and hair pulled away from your bare shoulders. Arms crossed across your chest, you sit on Alfie’s side of the bed, “You want to talk about it like a grown up now?”

He huffs and shifts lower into the bed, as if to hide from you. With a shrug you walk back to your side, shuffling your sock feet across. You crawl back in bed, back to Alfie to let him fume. It was better than fighting with him to get him to share his feelings.

“He was looking at you.”

“Well Karl is a baby darling.”

“Not Karl! John fucking Shelby! Little bastard was undressing you with his eyes! And you said nothing!”

Ah… there it was.

You let yourself sit up to look at your husband’s face. Folded up into himself, glasses precariously balanced on his nose, cheeks ruddy from rage. Jealousy was his greatest sin and vice. Bigger than rage. Bigger than his love of rum. He was an only child and as such he grew into a man who did not like to share. Not even your image. You curled up next to him, like a cat preening for attention. “Meyn Likht… I didn’t even see him. You shouldn’t be jealous of a figure of vapor.”

“What you don’t notice the… the young men just staring at you? Gapped mouths like dead fish?”

“Those children?” You hum, gently kissing his scruffy jaw and temple.

“Those… men closer in age… to you.”

With that you crawl into his lap, looping your arms around his broad shoulders. “Darling… what could I do with those men? I’d break them.”

“Break them?” He chuckles, gripping you tighter.

“They’re too soft. Too pretty. No. I like my men… rougher… more sturdy… someone who can stand strong and not worry about their pretty face getting dirty. I like my old man.”

“Do you now?”

“Love him even. Deliriously in love with him. Couldn’t live without him.”

Before you could take another breath, he was on you, kissing all over your face, tickling you with his rough beard and mustache. “Good Lord woman you make me feel 20 again.”

[another-lost-mc]

Got any thots/ideas in wing kink for Luci, Simeon, or anyone with wings?

a/n: there's a few different types of wings among the cast, but I think they're all unique and worth talking about!

wing headcanons

featuring: lucifer, mammon, asmodeus, beelzebub, diavolo, simeon, raphael, michael (and any oc with wings)

0.7k words | nsfw | suggestive

cw: wing kink implied. sexual situations and predator/prey kink mentioned. the predator/prey kink section is after the divider if you prefer not to read that part.

One of the first signs of trust is the casual affection he shows you when his wings are revealed. He might not always reach for your hand in public, especially if he's a bit more reserved by nature. However, what you do feel is the soft sensation of his wing brushing against your side when you walk beside him. He doesn't even mean to do it at first. It's like his wing naturally extends itself to curl around your back or glide against your arm. It's an unconscious gesture motivated by his feelings for you.

He might ask you to help with his wing care next. If he has wings made of feathers, he sits patiently while you preen them. You're especially careful when you straighten the feathers that look stuck out of place. Your hands are coated with a special oil that keeps his wings soft and protected from harsh wind and cool rain. It's a ritual for both of you now, one that often leads to grateful kisses and quickly descends into passionate lovemaking. Preening his wings was something he didn't enjoy doing by himself, or he reluctantly asked others to help him. Now that he has you, he craves the intimacy of it.

Leathery wings don't require the same level of care, but your lover is still grateful when you try to make him feel pampered and cared for. Sometimes stroking the edge of his wings feels ticklish. Sometimes it sends little bolts of desire shooting through his body straight to his cock. You never know whether he's going to laugh and squirm away from your hands, or if he's going to spin around and pin you underneath him.

Beelzebub's wings are thin and extremely sensitive, and he doesn't like it when they're touched. You are a rare exception. He trusts that you won't hurt the delicate wings that sit against his back. It feels nice when you gently run your fingers along the very edges. He rewards your gentleness and understanding with hungry kisses and greedy hands that rid you of all your annoying clothes.

As the crown prince, Diavolo's wings are particularly impressive and adorned with precious gold ornaments. He secretly likes it when you tease him about keeping the gilded gold pieces clean while you polish them to a glimmering shine. For special occasions, he'll even change them to a different metal that suits your preferences better—he wants to look his best for you. Don't be surprised when he offers you gifts of jewelry made with the same precious metals and jewels that match his own. He would love to see you wear them—and only them—the next time he invites you to spend the night.

Most of the time, fucking someone in his true form can be clumsy or awkward. He doesn't just let anyone touch their wings so intimately either. When you're intimate, he might purposefully reveal his wings. His wings wrap around your body and draw you close while he shields you from the world, protecting you when you're naked and vulnerable. (It also hides you from unworthy eyes that don't deserve to see you that way.) Sometimes his wings randomly appear in the height of passion, unfurling at his back when pleasure drives away all thought and reason except the singular desire to touch you. When his mind isn't clouded with lust, he looks a bit bashful that he lost control like that to begin with—it only happens when he's with you.

Another possibility is a little bit of predator/prey roleplay. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to be hunted? Your winged lover is more than happy to indulge in this kink should you ask. The forests of the Devildom (or the human world) are perfect for this. He leads you there and urges you towards the tree line in front of you. He'll even give you a head start.

(You're going to need it.)

It begins when you finally run into the darkened woods with only glimpses of moonlight to illuminate your path. The smallest sounds are impossibly loud, echoing off the trees around you: a snapping twig, the crunch of fallen leaves under your feet, your own ragged, panted breaths. Sometimes you see movement from the corner of your eye and when you turn around, there's nothing there. What you do notice is the tree branch high above you shaking slightly, as if someone was just there and then launched himself back into the sky.

(He's toying with you.)

Adrenaline gives you one last burst of energy that propels your feet forward, and you keep running despite the burning in your lungs. The blood in your veins is laced with lust and fear in equal measure. It's not long before you finally hear it: the sound of wings slicing through the air and growing louder as he draws near. Do you hear the soft swish of feathers? The taut snap of leathery wings billowing against the wind? Or perhaps it's the bzzzt of wings fluttering rapidly at his back that quickens your pulse? Suddenly, his familiar silhouette looms above you and blocks the moon from view. You're pinned against his chest before you realize what's happening, and his arms (and sometimes wings) curl around your body. Greedy hands start to pull at your clothes as he crushes his lips against yours. The game is over, and you're finally his to claim.

read more: obey me masterlist

[ladythornofrivia]

🍒 The Devil’s Tongue 🍒

Michael Gavey x Reader (PART ONE)

summary: you transferred into Oxford after moving out from your country for a better change, and unexpectedly meeting Michael Gavey in a quiet library, leads to something more.

warnings: creepy vibes from michael gavey, reader being oblivious, stalking, michael being horny, p in v sex, loss of virginity, jealousy, misunderstandings, obsession, belt kink, panty kink, scent kink, voice kink, breeding kink, michael gavey being a smartass, michael gavey is horny for math, michael gavey is a smartass, clueless reader, nerdy yet hot michael, lust at first sight, sex in the library, sex on the table, kitchen sex, oral sex, cam girl, fingering, sex during tutoring session, reader teasing, reader being a dominatrix in bed, food porn.

a/n: i forgot to review the movie saltburn last year, so I’ll give it a short review. Saltburn is a weird movie, but i watched it because of Ewan Mitchell. While ewan mitchell is 10/10, saltburn is 7/10, because of the bathtub scene and the grave scene. the only thing that’s good is the cinematography, music and ewan mitchell. i wish there’s more scenes from him. yes, i keep saying his name! he’s so fucking hot as a nerd. this one shot will be long.

You like cherries.

There’s something mysterious and tempting about the roundish and reddish fruits. Cherries are sweet, and it’s dark-reddish color brought an appeal to your appetite and. Appeal that also changes your view in fashion.

And as hot as the Devil’s tongue.

Red symbolized lust.

Sinful, they proclaimed.

So does your pussy, when you splayed across the bed, watched as Michael entered and his face bewildered when you splayed naked in bed with thick whip cream smothered on your tits, waist, and your pussy decorated in whip cream swirled with cherry on top.

"Hi, baby. I've been waiting for you," you said as your legs spread, thick of whip cream and candied cherry cascaded slowly.

***

A Year Ago…

Your parents and your attention seeking relatives are no good. Red is as sin as lust—the devil’s skin, the devil’s horn.

Other than black and pink, you like the dark-cherry color. All your aesthetics are cherry red—well, the undertones to match your little room at your small house belongs to your parents.

Them and their sinless views of the world has sickened to your stomach. You don’t want to be like your hypocritical, martyr parents for the rest of your life, so you applied for the university at Oxford and Northamptonshire. You got accepted to the university. Despite being a young woman, you managed to prove them wrong.

And sever ties with them to go at the University of Oxford, where you encounter numerous people. You’ve done research to get things right—not to be frigid or superficially pretentious; you didn’t want to embarrass yourself on the spot if you chose to be ignorant.

One thing that no one else knows of you, is that you moonlight as a dominatrix on a live stream. Every night, you broadcast online to pleasure yourself—that’s how you got money to bail from a strict and hypocritical religious household.

Few of the students looked at your direction, giving a side-eye. You overheard them calling you a prostitute, but you couldn’t care less. Dress to impress for yourself. You mostly wore bike leather jacket, a tank top, mini skirt and a chunky dark-cherry red boots with light make up, but the lipstick is glossy dark red—and not the irritable, sticky kind.

Your long locks tossed at the side, already at your assigned room, but you shut the windows completely. You don’t want to reveal the private side of your internet sensation. After closing the curtains, you’re off to the hall, where people gathered and talk, mainly about drama and parties.

You hadn’t known one. But you had party to yourself of gaining source of income from self-pleasure.

There you sat down, and overheard someone at your left. Afar, you saw a young man named Oliver Quick and another guy with nerdy glasses.

Michael Gavey.

“Fuckin’ ask me a sum then!” The chatter dimmed when a young man shouted about math.

No one really likes as the guy with the nerdy glasses does. But he does look cute when he’s fuming.

Maybe he’s sexually frustrated. All it needs is I need to work on a poor guy. Poor guy is so frustrated—a no man island himself, like Oliver Quick.

You could tell. So you chimed in.

“What’s the square root of 69”

Both boys turned to look at you.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Oliver inquired, perplexed.

“Oh, just a curious person asking him a question,” you said, jerking your head towards the blond and cutely frustrated boy.

“8.30662386292,” is all the blond uttered.

Your lips tugged into a smirk, and left.

Interesting, now I have a new kink to look forward to for my next kinky session.

***

It’s quite luxurious for a library—grand yet old like wines in the cellar. You studied Political Science and Art, and while you studied and sometimes drawing, but a certain snack bar caught your eye; it was placed above your drawing.

“I got you a crunchie,” a voice said. You turned and saw Michael Gavey.

“Oh, um, thanks?”

“I have never seen you before,” he noted.

“Really? So do I.”

“As a matter of fact, you have disrupted us during our friendly conversation.”

Oliver Quick was anything but friendly and comfortable.

“Okay and?”

He quirked a brow. “Your attitude is unusual.”

“Well, where I came from, it’s not really an issue. I’m a straight forward kind of gal,” you explained.

Michael hummed, staring at you.

“Pardon my rudeness. I’m Michael Gavey.” His hand stretched out. “I never get your name.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” You offered a handshake in return.

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from America.”

“Ah, yes. The land of freedom,” he commented, trying to make you laugh.

You laughed awkwardly. You have never smiled or laughed before—in a non-superficial way. You laughed and smiled during as a cam girl, but other than that, you never smile genuinely.

Somehow it caught his eye. His glasses beamed that you could see the color of his hues.

“An awkward foreign girl.”

“Yeah, so? I’m not really a people-person.”

“Why did you come here, then? For a good fuck?”

Ghastly, you turned around to see if anyone catches his words, but nobody pays attention.

“Are you going to the party?”

“What party?”

“The party Felix and his friends are heading tonight.”

“Who the hell is Felix?”

Michael darted his eyes behind you, and followed the sign; Felix and Farleigh sat at the back between the shelves.

“Apparently, he’s hosting a party tonight. NFI, me and you. Not Fucking Invited.”

“Well, I don’t a fuck about parties that much.”

Michael tsked. “That’s a very strong language.”

“Says the guy who says NFI. Besides, I don’t like parties,” you said, and it wasn’t a half lie. You have an upcoming camgirl session tonight.

“A shame,” Michael said, then reaching for the crunchie.

You have never tried snacks from another culture.

“Is it good?” you asked him.

He ripped the snack bar open, and gave you a piece. “Try it and see for yourself.”

And you did.

It was worth it.

Nevermind how Michael watched you in fascination.

***

The roofs and walls of University has been but a sham; it was real quiet.

Too quiet.

You hated quiet rooms.

In your next session, your fingers swirled your swollen clit, thinking of Michael Gavey’s rosy lips and tongue licking and nibbling your wet cunt and a tight hole.

You never fucked anybody, but you wanted your first time to be special. You rode on a dildo, trying not to moan so loud, but you come down high. The faster you moved, the more erotic images of a nerdy Michael seeping into you.

This is my kind of party.

***

Somewhere, in a darkened room, Michael Gavey’s hand filled with cum, and his other hand pressed the send button on his computer screen.

It was sensational to see.

You.

Who would’ve thought he met you—a famous camgirl.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how your eyes twinkled when you ate crunchie for the first time—far from the horniness and snobbish act you put up in public. It was a delight to see . With your outstanding getup and attitude, he knew that he’s in a right place.

Taglist: @toodlesxcuddles @kittendoll05 @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @kukulyarva @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @velunis @nananeptune @domithebomi @moonseye @faesspace @tm-starr @xinthia19 @popsycles @halsteadstyles @lothiriel9 @liannafae @ammo23 @blackswxnn @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @qardasngan @justyelena @jolixtreesunn @runekisses @thought--bubble @remuslupinwife1 @evergreen9083 @foggypeacestarlight @dixie-elocin @galactict3a @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @kimsubin05 @blackgaladriel @valeskafics @theboleyngirlx @elaratyrell @mylosz0

[latenightdaydreams]

Blacksmith!König x Farmers Wife (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, lust, unhappy marriage, thoughts of cheating, p in v

1.4k word count

.

.

On a hot summer day, you find yourself lost in thought as you chop vegetables in the kitchen. The heat is unbearable, small beads of sweat drip down your forehead and onto your brow before you wipe it away. Your small sense of peace is disrupted when your husband slams the back door open. You jump, turning your head to see your husband covered in sweat and dirt with an angry look on his face.

“The fucking axe is too damn dull to chop a goddamned thing!” He tosses the ax on top of the kitchen table.

“Get that off the table!” You shout in annoyance as you turn to face him, slamming your knife down.

“Calm down woman.” Your husband walks to sit at the table. “I need you to take it to the blacksmith. Get the horse shoes I ordered while you’re there too.”

“I’m in the middle of cooking-”

“Don’t talk back to me.” He points a finger at you while giving you a stern look. “Leave.”

With a glare you grab the apron that rests over your skirt to wipe your hands before untying it and tossing it onto the kitchen counter. You walk to grab the ax from the table before walking past your husband and out of the house. Under your breath you mumble insults towards your husband as your approach the stable.

You hike your dress up to get on the back of the horse and head out to the blacksmiths, nearly half an hour’s ride. The sun beat down on your skin, the lack of a breeze makes the air feel thick. At least the scenery is nice. Ever since you got married, you really don’t leave the house much. Everyday all you see is the farm and the small woods across from your home.

As you approach the edge of the local town, you turn down a dirt path that leads to the blacksmiths. You can hear the sound of him working as you get closer, seeing the man’s figure as he moves. You’ve never met this man before, causing a small wave of anxiety to come over you.

With the ax in hand, you approach the doors to the barn he’s working in. The heat is unbearable in the small space with a large fire in the background. As König catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye, he stops what he’s doing and turns to you. His face is angular with a deep scar across the right side of his face.

“Hallo.” His eyes drift up and down your body as he steps closer. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, uh. My husband ordered shoes for the horse and needs this sharpened.” You hold up the axe for him to grab.

König’s fingers lightly graze your own as he grabs the handle to take it from you. His eyes look over the dull head of the ax before nodding. He turns, walking to his work station and giving you and full view of his muscular back in the undershirt he has on.

“What’s the order name?”

“Uh- my husband’s name is Michael Andrews.”

“You’re his wife?” König asks, almost surprised that a man like him could possibly land a beauty like you.

“I am.”

“Hm. Okay. I’ll work on this and then fetch the shoes for you.”

“Thank you so much.”

König nods to you and turns to grab his tool to begin sharpening the head of the ax. With every move he makes, the muscles in his arms flex. The focused look on his face makes him even more attractive. From behind him the fire cast a golden hue around his massive body.

“W- what’s your name?” You ask, trying to distract your mind from the thought of what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his massive arms.

“Alexander König, but I just go by König.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” You saw so softly he almost misses it.

König looks back up at you, his eyes landing on your chest where your breasts sit perfectly. He smirks at you before looking back down. The fact that you’re Michael’s wife truly boggles his mind; such an ugly and unpleasant man.

Working in these conditions has left König absolutely filthy. Usually when your husband is covered in dirt you find it repulsive, but König on the other hand was a different story. The way the smut blackens his pale white skin, his blond hair polluted with grime. You can only imagine what he would smell like. His strong masculine musk consuming your nostrils… You shift your legs as you feel a tingle between your legs from your thoughts wandering.

Once König is finished, he polishes off the sharpened edge. He inspects his work before smiling at himself. His body turns and approaches you. As he does you gaze up at him, his massive height making you feel so small. He stops only a few inches from you; intruding on your personal space, but you don’t mind.

“All ready.” He lowers the ax, resting it against the wooden wall of the barn.

“Thank you. What about the shoes?”

“Hm, right.” He lifts his head looking past you at your horse. “Bring him around back, I’ll put them on.”

“You can do that?”

“Of course, Schatz.” König winks at you when he calls you that.

With a small smile you nod, turning to go grab your horse and lead him around the building to meet König. He walks up to you both after a while holding the shoes and supplies he needs. Your eyes obviously roam down his body, focusing on the massive bulge in his jeans. The impression nearly going down his leg. It’s almost like you’re mesmerized, not noticing that König is smirking at your obvious gaze.

He places the items on the small bench, turning to look at you. “Do you work on the farm too?”

“No.”

“I can tell, your hands are soft.” He comments so casually, causing you to blush.

König’s attention turns to you as he approaches you, nearly pinning you against the fence behind you. He shamelessly looks down at your cleavage as he towers over you. One of his hands reaches out to feel the texture of your hair, letting out a soft hum. The feeling of a soft woman isn’t something he’s used to. His scar and standoffish personality scaring off most women.

“You’re a beautiful woman.”

“Oh, I’m nothing special.”

“Don’t speak poorly of yourself. You’re beautiful.” His eyes roam over your face and caresses your jawline.

“Sir, I’m married.”

He looks back and forth between your eyes before nodding and backing away. “I apologize for overstepping Mrs.” His voice speaks so softly as his thumb caresses your lower lip before stepping back.

You ride home to your husband with the mental image of König so close to you, touching you. It’s as if you can still feel his touch on your lips. The thought of how big his cock must be consuming your mind. As you approach home, you try to calm yourself down.

After you put your horse in the stable, you rush into the house. Michael is sitting on the kitchen chair still, smoking his pipe. You march over to him and straddle his lap, kissing him as your hips grind against him. He drops his pipe on the table, in a hurry to unzip his pants.

Michael pulls his cock out as you lift yourself up to remove your undergarments. You lower yourself on his cock with your eyes closed, thinking about König’s piercing blue eyes gazing down at you. A soft moan leaves your lips as you begin to bounce on him. His hands grip your hips to encourage your bouncing; his hips thrust up to meet your movements.

You lean back to pull your breasts free from your dress to hear your husband let out a lout moan, his hands holding you down so his cock is fully in you. He cums deep inside of you, after only maybe a minute of sex. While his head has fallen back in a sleepy bliss of pleasure, you sit there glaring at him with disdain. Quickly, you stand up and grab a towel to clean yourself up.

“Where is the ax?” Michael asks as he watches you wipe his cum as it drips from you.

“Oh, shit. I must have left it.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n.” He snaps at you as he sits up. “Now I have to go get it.”

“No,” You cut him off quickly. “I’ll get it first thing tomorrow.”

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2

Previous Part, Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006

“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”

Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.

“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”

He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.

But he made a mistake.

The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.

Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.

No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.

But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and

“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”

Fuck, he was getting soft.

Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.

That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.

His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.

He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.

Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.

Oh God, he was going to blow.

Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.

Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.

First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006

Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.

He had to know more.

Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.

All the better for him to keep observing you.

As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.

He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.

But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.

He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.

He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.

“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.

You were American. How adorable.

“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”

You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.

Must have been Farleigh’s idea.

Anyway, back to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.

Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.

Except that he was.

He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.

Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.

It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.

My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋

Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.

By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.

“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”

“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”

Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”

Felix just shrugged.

“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”

Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.

“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”

“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”

“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.

“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”

Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.

Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.

Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.

Manchester, December 2006

You were having the time of your life.

Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”

But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.

Oxford Dining Hall December 2006

You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.

“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.

Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.

“What?” you croaked out.

“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”

“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”

“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”

You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.

You hated feeling small.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”

He rolled his eyes at your concern.

“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”

You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.  

His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.

When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.

“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”

“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”

Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.

“Look, are you coming or not?”

You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.

“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”

A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”

“Don’t push it.”

You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.

His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.

“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”

When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.

“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”

“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”

“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”

“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”

Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.

“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”

You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”

“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.

“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”

Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”

“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”

“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”

“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”

Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.

“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”

“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”

You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.

“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”

“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”

Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.

“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”

“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.

Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.

The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.

You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.

When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.

You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.

But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.

Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.

At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.

Well – everyone except one.

Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.

Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.

Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.

“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”

You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.

“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006

In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.

He had to get out of here.

In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @valeskafics, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by commenting!

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Study Session

michael gavey x reader

A/N: a fufilled request :)

TW: smut!, dry humping, titty sucking, size kink

word count: 1,283 words

“C’mon you can’t be dumb and weak, that’s just pathetic” Michael rolls his eyes as he holds the flashcards in front of you.

“I already said it’s 1536 and I’m not weak or dumb.” You glare at him.

“You have to know the full date. You know that.”

“That’s stupid.”

“May 19th.”

“I knew that!” You protest and snatch the cards out of his hands. You begin to look at the answers on the cards. “And I knew that was June 16th and that was March 3rd.” He tries to grab the cards back.

“You won’t learn anything if you do that.” He snatches them out of your hands with ease. “And like I said before, not very strong.”

You shove him. He doesn’t go very far. “I’m not weak.”

“Yes you are. You’re tiny compared to me.” He teases and you push him again. “Stop that you little brat.”

You snatch his glasses and stand up, taking a few stops back. You stick your tongue out at him.

“Oh very mature.” He stands, holding his hand out. “Give them back.”

“No.” You say like a petulant child.

He sighs before reaching out to try and grab them from you but you’re a little too quick this time. You dart to the other side of the room and you actually have him chasing you now.

“This is silly.” He says as he stops. You’re cornered now.

“Boo hoo Michael hates fun.” You say with a fake pout.

He holds his hands out for his glasses once more and you try to dart away. He grabs you firmly around your waist and pushes you back on his bed, realizing that he’s going to have to wrestle them out of your hands. You giggle as you fall down, playfully fighting back but he gets on top of you, gripping your wrists firmly with one hand and pinning them above your head. He puts his glasses back on with his other hand, not quite yet realizing the position he’s put you in.

“Michael?” You murmur out and he looks down at you. You can feel how hard he’s gotten against you due to all the movement and he can see the slightest glimpse of your panties from how your skirt has ridden up.

He brings himself back down to reality. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to. I-I can’t control it.” You know he is referring to the very obvious tent in his trousers. He’s clearly about to get up but you see your chance and  you grind yourself against him. He lets out a strangled groan.

“Maybe now’s a good time to tell you that i’ve liked you for a while.” You say softly as you look into his eyes. He can practically feel the lust radiating off of you. “Do you-”

You’re cut off before you can finish the sentence as he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is hungry and needy and you feel all his emotion through it.

“I’ve liked you for a while too.” He murmurs before kissing you again. You can feel him rubbing up against you subconsciously. “Um… you should also know that I haven’t done this before.”

“Done what before?” You know what he’s referring to but you want to make him say it.

“Sex.” He says nervously.

“Who said we were going to have sex?”

“Nobody! I mean - that’s not all I want or something. W-We don’t have to!” He stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s fucked it all up now. “I really like you!”

You giggle. “I’m just teasing Mikey. We can have sex.”

“You’re such a little shit.”

“Well if you don’t want to then I can just leave.” You begin to sit up but he puts his hands on your shoulders to push you back down.

“No, I want to. I definitely want to.” There’s a very intense look in his eyes and you just kind of nod in response.

He looks down so he can unzip his trousers and pull his length out. By the time he looks back up, you’ve taken your top off. His jaw drops at the sight of your lacy bra and he realizes it matches the tiny glimpse that he got of your panties. He immediately lifts up your skirt to check if he remembered correctly.

“Michael!” You scold him for looking under your skirt without asking.

“You wore a matching set to study with me?” There’s a stupid, cocky grin on his face as he asks the question.

“Shut up.” You murmur in response with flushed cheeks from your embarrassment.

“You really do have a big fat crush on me.” He teases. “Don’t girls usually wear shorts under skirts or were you just really wanting to flash me your panties?”

“I swear to God, I will leave right now.”

“No, don’t go. I’m sorry.” He teases gently with that dumb grin still on his face before he leans down to give you another peck on the lips.

“You’re lucky I like you.” You grumble before you reach for the clasp of your bra. 

A bra that clasps in the front; he feels like he’s going to go fucking feral.

“I’m a very lucky man.” He breathes out as you reveal your tits to him. “Oh fuck.” He groans like a desperate preteen boy before palming them with both hands. If he wasn’t rock hard before, then he sure is now.

“Perv.”

“Whatever.” He very clearly doesn’t care as he begins to suck on your right breast. You run your fingers through his hair, whimpering as he licks over your nipple.

“Are you going to suck my tits all day or do I get to pop your cherry?” You ask and he rolls his eyes.

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Of course you don’t. Virgin.” He pinches your nipple. “Ow!” You glare at him.

“Can I still fuck you?” 

The audacity.

“You’re paying for plan B.”

He grins at your answer and pushes your skirt around your waist. He decides to keep your panties on and just push them to the side. You feel him rubbing his tip against your opening. He looks at you with pleading eyes. “Can I put it in?” You nod right away before you feel yourself stretch around him. He’s just so goddamn big.

“Oh fuck.” You whine as he begins to thrust in and out of you. He goes slow and concentrates so he doesn’t become a one pump chump. He watches as your hand goes down to rub your clit. He’ll have to learn to do that for you next time.

“God, you feel so good.”He moans as he feels your creamy, tight pussy around him. It makes him fuck you a little faster now.

“You’re so big, Michael. Feel you in my tummy.” You whimper out as you squeeze a bit around him.

“I-I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” He can’t stop himself when you say such things to him and he doesn’t even ask before he cums inside you. You squeeze around him in tandem when you feel him fill you, managing to reach your peak as well. “Sorry…” He breathes out. He may not have finished right away but he sure as hell didn’t last long.

“It’s okay. You did good.” You praise him as he pulls out of you. Michael puts your panties back in place right away because he likes the idea of you keeping his cum inside you. “Perv.” You mutter.

“Your perv.” He grins and lays his head down on your chest. “Does this mean I get to be your boyfriend now?”

You pretend to think for a moment.

“Of course it does, idiot.”

taglist (comment to be addex): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 7 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Pt VIII good omens a spoiler-free trailer

*walks into church, ignoring the gasps of the congregation* *holds mic to a terrified gentleman's face*

Have you ever wondered, what if the flaming sword at the Garden of Eden was insufferably in love with the Serpent?

*doesn't wait for response, shoves mic in shaking lady's face*

What if I told you, your bible studies are incomplete, because they are missing the most important story of all?

*cut to me in front of a white screen, walking seductively toward camera in a suit*

Worry not, for your prayers have been answered. Presenting, Good Omens, a kind-of biblically accurate story by Sir Terry Pratchett and Tumblr's own @neil-gaiman, now a TV show and queerer than ever. All you AO3 slow-burn hoes, we see you. You asked for it, you got it. Childhood friends is so last millennium, we give you instead, six thousand years of mutual pining.

*hard cut to David Tennant, whom I have stuck to a chair with Elmer's glitter glue* *he struggles, in vain*

Starring David Tennant and his signature slutty walk as Crowley, now in a ginger Barbie edition that comes with demonic eyes, every hairstyle and gender you could ever dream of, and instant outfit changes. It really is a miracle!

*camera swivels to focus on Michael Sheen, who is bound in blankets and looking deeply concerned*

Starring Michael Sheen the fae shapeshifter as Aziraphale, the sweetest, most cherubic murderous bitchy angel you've ever seen. Special features include automatic heart-eyes the moment he is faced with Crowley, a charming disregard for casual massacre in the name of God, and the instant outfit changes. Watch him melt your heart before breaking it! Bonus tip: try giving him sushi!

*cut back to the white screen, I am now sitting uncomfortably close to the camera*

Follow Aziraphale and Crowley as they alternatively try to follow and thwart God's ineffable plan, managing to spectacularly fail at both tasks with a consistency that amazes as it befuddles. Featuring alcohol, a bookstore, and metaphorical and literal fire as things get a little... heated in the Bible fandom.

*crossfade to Soho, I walk along the street as the camera follows me*

If that isn't enough to convince you, presenting also, idiot lesbians giving an ancient demon love advice, sexy horsepersons of the apocalypse, an unofficial wedding combined with burning Nazis alive where the most important part is the handing over of a suitcase, and the sexiest MILF witch Agnes Nutter, a literal bombshell.

*cut to disturbing close up of Neil Gaiman's face* *he tries to step away, and is met with my camerapersons*

Watch Neil Gaiman give you hope and shatter it again repeatedly, in a show where the literal apocalypse is only the background to a forbidden idiots who are lovers-to-lovers who are idiots story that is older than Time itself. Armageddon takes a backseat as Crowley serves gender, and if you thought the Antichrist was adorable, wait till you see him in Good Omens, where his evil powers are directed towards being the cutest kid he can possibly be.

*cut back to white screen, I smile ominously while twirling a human bone*

Good Omens, at your nearest Amazon Prime, with free UST, fluff, Queen, and plenty of tears. Don't miss it!

*text rapidly rolls across screen*

[Imagery has been used for representative purposes. No David Tennant, Michael Sheen or Neil Gaiman was harmed in the process of creating this advertisement. Good Omens will have expected side-effects, including unprompted sobbing, a Pavlovian reaction to bandstands, nightingales, holy water and 'the final fifteen', heartache for the foreseeable future, and intense lust for Crowley's elusive gender. Asmi is not responsible for any consequences resulting from the advertised product. Some features have been excluded from the advertisement due to space and time constraints.]

[trendywaifus]

↳ not in love, baby it’s just lust!

always look both ways and behind you when you walk at night.

↳ featuring, michael myers! jingliu

—cw, sub! fem! reader, jingliu has a cock, face fucking, murder mentioned, gagging, cursing, size–kink, death of a character, dub-con

the sounds of your heavy breathing and wheezing echoes through the narrow walls of the horribly lit alleyway. your limbs burned with exhaustion and you were on the verge of passing out from nonstop running. the hot tears you desperately tried to wipe away, continuously runs down your flushed cheeks. you meet face to face with a dead end, your blood runs cold. “ o-oh my fucking god!” you slammed your palm against the cold brick wall in frustration. “ i just did a dumb white girl move, why did i even turn into this alleyway?! “

you whipped around, hoping to scramble out of the narrow space before your pursuer comes. you halted after a few steps in upon seeing the tall shadow of a silhouette steadily approaching towards your only escape route out. “ o-of course the motherfucker shows up. .! “ you muttered harshly, watching in horror as the looming figure stands tall at the entrance of the alleyway. your eyes trails down to what looks like to be a knife in their hand. “ oh fuck, i’m going to die because i wanted to buy a bag of shitty candy from the shitty corner store at night. .”

they began to approach, taking slow, calculated steps towards you. the knife twirls in their hand almost playfully as you backed up, frantically looking around for a weapon to use. “ last w-words of advice, if you’re interested in a woman, h-how about you not follow them and try to kill them, mister i. .—miss?” you were at a loss of words as her appearance became more visible under the shitty flickering lights. she had on a familiar worn–out fox mask, rivers of white hair flowed down her shoulders from underneath it. she wore a grey coverall jumpsuit that shaped her fit body.

“ th-this somehow got worse—you were the one who was following me? i seriously just heard about you on the news last night. god, i’m so fucked! “ you sobbed, forcing yourself up against the wall. a man by the name of yingxing was brutally murdered in his own home yesterday in broad daylight. it’s so happen that a witness caught a few glimpses of the masked killer somewhere outside the home after the murder and was able to give the police a distinctive description of her. why did you have to be the one to confirm it’s accurate in the worst way possible?

swallowed by her presence as she now towers over your figure, her dull red eyes peers down at you through the slits of the mask, amused by your pathetic mental breakdown. she raises her knife up and you instinctively closed your eyes shut, waiting for the sharp pain to come. instead, a cool metal gently brushes against your cheek, wiping away stray tears. you flinched, opening your eyes to stare at the masked woman with confusion.

“ d-did you just. . .? “ she tilts her head, letting out a low chuckle at your cute reaction. your brows furrowed, she’s either fucking with you or—she actually took your advice? “ maybe i won’t die tonight if i play my cards right. .” you whispered. taking a deep breath, you mustered up a tight-lipped smile. “ i-i heard a lot about you, including your name. jing. .liu, correct? “ she stares at you for a moment before slowly nodding.

“ you have such a beautiful name and you seem like a. .reasonable woman, jingliu. i actually want to go home since it’s like late at night and i think my mother is worried about me. you wouldn’t mind stepping aside so i can go, right? you’re kind of blocking the way—n-not to be rude. .”

jingliu says nothing, nor did she move aside to allow you to pass. instead, she takes a step forward, practically sandwiching you between her and the wall. you yelped, placing your palms against her stomach. it’s safe to assume that she did not want you to leave nor was she interested in killing you. her calloused hand cups your cheek, caressing the skin tenderly. you laughed nervously, “ i-i guess you already taken a liking to me. fucking perfect. “

your breath hitches as she leans down to your face, the rough texture of the mask grazes your cheek. you shifted uncomfortably against her, earning a soft groan. “ s-sorry? why did you make that—oh.” a soft bulge rubs against your thigh, causing you to stiffen up. jingliu swiftly tosses the knife to the side, the metal object hits the asphalt with a loud clang. her hands lands on your hips, forcing them to grind against hers. “ e-easy, easy, jingliu! “ you gasped, holding back a soft moan. fuck, a small adjustment easily triggered her?

she grunts, easing her grip on your hips but her movements doesn’t falter. “ sh-shit. . “ arousal shamelessly stirs in your belly, slowly dragging you into a mess of dirty thoughts about the feral woman. she hastily pulls up her mask, just enough to free the lower half of her face and smashed her lips against yours. the searing kiss was nothing but tongue and teeth. she easily overpowered you, not caring about bruising your lips. her hands journeys up your sides, wishing to explore every nook and cranny of your body.

her tongue hungrily explores your warm cavern, swallowing your whimpers. lust consumes you whole, trapping you in its hold and starts plucking away at any rational thought you had about the reality of the current situation. without hesitation, your hand slides down her stomach and squeezed at the hardened bulge. a deep growl emits from jingliu’s throat, she rolls her hips against your palm. “ god, it went from wanting to go home to wanting to fuck a suspected serial killer. ” you breathed, unzipping the jumpsuit from under the waistband, freeing her cock from its restraints.

jingliu’s lips parts as she laughs huskily at the irony. she firmly sets her hand on your shoulder and easily pushes you down to your knees. she hooks her hand on the back of your head, urging you to open your mouth. you complied, allowing her length to slide inside. her breath hitches, taken aback by how good you feel. your jaw tenses as jingliu fully pushes herself in until the tip was kissing the back of your throat.

suddenly, she jerks her hips forward, forcing her cock down your throat causing you to gag. she pulls back before doing it again. each time, it gets deeper and sloppy until she’s repeatedly fucking your tight throat without a care in the world. series of throaty moans and sounds of wet squelching fills the empty night sky. drool runs down your chin as you struggled to accommodate her size and pace. your palms pressed against her thighs to at least cease her speed but she was far more stronger than you.

her cock twitches in your mouth, signaling her inevitable climax. throwing her head back in pure ecstasy, she thrusts into your mouth one final time before loads of cum shoots down your throat. jingliu doesn’t pull out until she’s sure you’ve swallowed everything. once she was satisfied, she releases your head, finally allowing you to cough and breathe properly.

“ fuck. . “ you cursed, massaging your tense jaw. jingliu snatches you up by the forearm and pulls you up without warning. she presses you back into the wall, peppering your face with feverish kisses. her deft hands find themselves unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down to your ankles for you to kick off. her eyes looks you up and down hungrily, gaze lingering on your bare legs and panties. she places her hands on your sides and easily lifts you up from off the ground. you yelp, circling your legs around her waist.

she smirks at you, sliding your panties to the side to push her drool—covered cock inside your cunt. you both moan in sync as your walls clamp around her. “ l-let me adjust—nngh! “ ignoring your request, jingliu sinks you down to the hilt, completely filling you up. she pants heavily into your ear, retracting her hips back before thrusting right in again. “ s’big, i-i c-can’t! “ you moaned, pushing at her shoulders.

she holds you tighter and moves away to send you a threatening look. her once blank ruby eyes were wild, glistening with unadulterated lust. the masked woman finally uses her tongue to speak, her voice was raspy and low as she growled,

“ don’t. .push . .me. .away . ! “

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Be Mine

modern!benji x fem!reader

Summary: You and Benji are best friends in a band and seem to be the only ones blind to your chemistry. Your fans and band mates never cease to point this out and it’s got you both thinking about each other in a different light. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, drinking, a single cigarette, fingering, p in v, oral(f receiving), unprotected, age gap, praise kink ig

Authors Note: request from @chainsawsangel, the subtle 5sos mention is crazy of me

Word Count: 3.2k 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

We shuffle back into the venue waving back to our fans as the doors shut behind us. I drape across Benji as we make our way back to the dressing room with our other two members. I’m thankful to our loyal fans who come see us. We’ve been trying to grow out of smaller venues and tonight is the first time we’re playing at a place that doesn’t consider itself a bar first. 

“We should make a jar where we have to put a dollar in everytime someone asks if you two are together yet.” our drummer, Michael, tosses himself back onto the couch. 

“We’re just friends.” I sigh claiming the other couch and Benji lays across my lap.

“Yeah, I can see that.” our bassist, Ash, raises his eyebrow and shakes his head. 

I sigh and toss my head back. I lift Benjis head from my lap as I get up to go change in the bathroom. I don’t know what to tell our band mates. We just spend a lot of time together and have the same sense of humor. I didn’t think they felt so deeply about the fans asking about it. 

“Stop pouting and come out.” Benji calls through the door and I roll my eyes at the smile that spreads across my face. 

“I’m not pouting.” I open the door glaring up at him. 

“What do you call this then?” he squeezes my cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“Benji,” I bat his hand away huffing. 

“Can you two fuck already?” Michael shouts from across the room. 

“That sounds like you need to put a dollar in the jar.” Benji smiles over his shoulder at them. 

“Fuck off.” they laugh back. 

I turn back into the bathroom using the stained mirror to finish getting ready while Benji sits on the floor watching me. I guess I never really put much thought into us being more than friends. Of course I find him attractive but I always figured he wouldn’t go for me since he’s a few years older. Now I can’t stop glancing at him in the mirror and to my surprise every time he’s already looking at me with dark eyes. 

“What’re you looking at?” I lock eyes with him in the mirror. 

“My beautiful and amazing friend and bandmate.” he hums and I roll my eyes at him. 

“Not helping with the accusations.” I purse my lips turning to him. 

“Fuck what they say.” he shrugs wrapping his hands around my ankle and up my calf as he looks up to me. 

“Benji,” my voice is more breathy than I’d like it to be. 

“Hm?” he looks up to me with a smirk. 

“Go get dressed. We’re on stage in thirty.” I go to turn but he tightens his grip on me. 

“Should we match tonight?” his fingers trail up my thighs and play with the edge of my skirt. 

“Do you have a skirt to match?” I raise my eyebrow and wrap my hand around his wrist pulling him up. 

“Black pants and a matching shirt will do the job.” he rises towering above me. “Although, I think we should switch shirts to get the point across.” his fingers dance along the exposed skin of my waist. 

“You wanna wear a crop top?” I look up to him while plucking his fingers off of me. 

“You don’t think I can pull it off?” he pouts. 

“Let’s see if you can.” I smirk and begin to pull my shirt off. 

“Don’t start something we can’t finish right now.” his voice low as he stops my hands. “I’ll go find you a shirt and be right back.” 

I don’t know what’s in the air between us today. His touch on my skin that’s normally innocent has such a fire behind it. Our bodies must be on the same page as everyone else and our minds still haven’t caught up. I just don’t want to ruin years of friendship for one lust filled moment. 

“What’re you getting so worked up about in here?” he smirks looking at the blush creeping up my neck. 

“Nothing.” I snatch the shirt from him and shut the door in his face. 

“Very convincing.” he chuckles from the other side. 

I pull off my shirt and look to see what Benji gave me. I sigh at the white button up he gave me. I know this man has white t-shirts but of course it had to be this. I button it up and tuck it in smiling that it smells like him. I pull the door open and he’s there waiting for me. His eyes travel over my body and slowly make their way back to my eyes. 

“You look like a schoolgirl.” he licks his lips and I push my top into his hands. 

“Let’s see how you look.” I put my hands on my hips expectantly. He pulls off his shirt and I scold my eyes for traveling down his torso. He chuckles as he pulls my shirt on and shake my head at how unfair it is that he looks good in my shirt. 

“Do you like it?” his tone teasing. 

“Yeah, I’m sure the fans will love it. Especially the girls.” I raise my hand to touch him but bring it back to my sides quickly. 

“I asked if you like it, Y/n.” I look up to him and nod my head not wanting to give him the satisfaction. 

“If you guys are done we gotta go.” Ash says waiting at the door hauling it open with Michael next to him. 

We jog after them down the hall as our adrenaline begins to spike the closer to stage we get. We do our before show ritual when the stage hand says we have five minutes. Our fans cheer as we step out on stage and the lights dim. We go straight into our opening song and the energy from the crowd fuels us. 

“How’re you guys doing tonight?” I smile into the mic as the room bursts into cheers. “I wanna thank you all for coming out and seeing us at our first official venue show.” Michael plays a small riff as the crowd continues to cheer. 

“For those of you who got dragged here let me introduce us, I’m Y/n, this is our bassist Ash, our drummer Michael, and our guitarist Benji.” I smile turning to my band mates. 

“Saving the best for last?” Benji laughs into his mic. 

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, Benji.” I toss a smile over my shoulder. “Who’s ready for the next song?” 

“I am.” Ash groans from beside me and the crowd erupts in cheers and laughter. 

We get through five songs before we do another talking break and I run off stage for the bathroom and water. I quickly get done and start making my way backstage when Benji pops out of the shadows. I stumble back and he catches me helping steady my feet. 

“You look so good like this.” I feel my cheeks flush as he fiddles with the buttons on my shirt. 

“Benji,” I look up to him as I feel my breathing deepen. 

“Let’s go finish our show.” he chuckles tugging me back on stage. 

“There she is.” Ash sings as Benji slips his fingers out of mine. “They wanna know where you got your top.” he smirks at me and I flare my nostrils. 

“A little boutique called Benjis suitcase. Let me tell you they sell some strange shit.” I giggle into the mic. 

“Hey,” Benji grabs his chest in mock hurt. 

“Oh don’t be such a baby.” I coo walking over to him. “Who likes Benjis shirt?” the crowd cheers. “I wanted to wear it tonight but he insisted.” I sigh throwing my head back. 

“She’s just mad because she knows I look better in it.” he struts across the stage and the crowd goes wild. 

“And on that note we have a couple more songs for you guys.” Michael laughs and begins our next song. 

The rest of the show is high energy and we all run off stage laughing and panting. We make our way back to the dressing room and begin to pack up so we can head back to our hotel. Michael and Ash make fun of us as they see what our fans are posting about us and how we have to be a couple that we all but confirmed it. 

“I’d like to see how you guys talk your way out of this one.” Ash laughs stepping out of the uber. “We’ll see you guys later.” they wiggle their eyebrows before running into the hotel with our bags. 

“Let’s go out.” Benji says holding my hand to keep me in the car. 

“I guess I could go for a drink.” I sit back in the seat and turn my head to him. “You want your shirt back?” I bite my lip popping open the top button.

“No.” he shakes his head with a smirk. “I like when you wear my things.” his eyes darken as he scans over my body. 

“Careful you sound possessive.” I tsk. 

“And if I am?” his hand travels to my bare thigh. 

“Hm?” I squeeze my legs shut looking up to him. 

“Possessive of you.” his voice low as his rings bite into my skin. 

“Benji,” his name falls off my tongue. 

“Alright you two, we’re here.” the driver says and we slip out of the car. 

Benji leads me into the club as the music thrums through me. We make our way to the bar and down a shot. We take another before he’s pulling to the dance floor. His hands wrap around my waist tightly as my hands travel up his back and I’m thanking myself for giving him a crop top. One of his hands travels up my front and begins to pop a button open as my breath catches. 

“You seemed hot from how flushed your cheeks are.” he dips down to my ear as he opens another button. 

“Do you wanna take it off?” I arch my body into him and he chuckles lowly dragging me off the dance floor. He pushes us into the bathroom and has my back against the door a moment later. 

“Maybe we should switch shirts.” he smirks popping another button. His mouth goes to my neck and I let out a wrecked whimper. His hand travels between my thighs as I writhe in his arms. “Is this okay?” he asks stopping just below my panties. 

“Yes, Benji please,” I whine gripping onto his arm. He moves my panties to the side and slides a long finger through my wetness. I bite my lip from crying out as he keeps his movements slow. 

“How’s that feel baby?” his finger swirls around my bud and a moan rips out of my throat. 

“So good,” I pant as he brings another finger and speeds up his movements. My hips chase his fingers as I melt into his arms as my pleasure builds. 

“You’re doing so good for me.” he purrs as his fingers slide down to my core. He slowly dips them into me and my breathing deepens. His thumb finds my bud and I grind down into his hand chasing my high that is about to snap. 

“Fuck Benji,” I whine as he starts to lick and bite across my neck. 

“Gunna come on my fingers like a good girl?” he rasps curling his fingers. My thighs squeeze around his hand as they begin to shake. He starts to slam his fingers into me as I pulse around them digging my nails into his shoulders. 

“Benji,” I sob as he continues to pump his fingers. 

“You did so good.” he shushes slowly pulling his fingers out and adjusting my panties. I watch him with low lids as he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. “Let’s go get another drink.” he grabs my hand and tugs me out of the bathroom. 

As he pulls me through the sea of people I swear everyone knows what we just did. I shake that thought out of my head as the loud music drowns out everyone’s conversation around us. We get our drinks and find a booth to enjoy them in. We’re settled off to the side where we can see all of the depravity taking place on the dance floor. 

“Let’s prove our fans right.” he watches me as he sips his drink. 

“What do you mean?” I tilt my head stirring my drink with the straw. 

“Be mine.” he holds his hand out to me. “It’s not just the drinks talking, I’ve wanted you for a while now.” he licks his lips. 

“It’s not gunna make it weird?” my voice soft as I start to reach out my hand. 

“Nah, we still do the same stuff except I can put my face between your thighs now.” he smiles as I lay my hand in his palm. 

“Benji,” I scold looking around. 

“I get to fuck you after shows. Gods and when you have that attitude I can bend you over my knees.” he chuckles as I feel my cheeks on fire. 

“Would you like that?” 

“Yes.” my voice small as I nod my head squeezing my legs together. 

“I’m gunna-“ 

“Hey, I’m sorry. We didn’t want to interrupt but like you’re in our favorite band and we wanted to know if we could get a picture?” the girls look nervously from me to Benji.

“No worries!” I jump up from the booth. “We’d love to.” Benji chuckles sliding out of the booth and we take a couple pictures and chat before they leave. 

“Let’s go back to the hotel. I need you to myself.” he dips down to my ear sending a shiver to rack through me. 

I nod my head and we make it to the sidewalk where he calls for an uber. We share a cigarette leaning against one another. The car stops in front of us and we climb in ready to be alone. His hands tease against my thighs that leave me giggling and gasping. We walk through the lobby and attach to one another once the elevator doors close. His fingers dig into my ass harshly as I whine into his mouth. We pull apart as he tugs me down the hall to our room. The door slams behind us and he pulls me to him. 

“I’ve wanted to wreck you since I saw you in my shirt.” he says lowly before gripping at the buttons and pulling it apart. 

“Benji,” I gasp as buttons fly around the room. 

“It’s my shirt and I don’t care.” he dips down and licks around my cleavage. He pulls the cup of my bra down and incases my peak with his hot mouth. I push my chest into him as his hand comes up to roughly fondle my other breast. He pulls back to look down at my heaving chest and clenched legs. 

“Look at you.” he groans palming himself through his pants. “Come.” he holds his hand out and pulls me over to the bed. 

He sits on the end of the bed and pulls me over his knees. I look over my shoulder at him as he begins to lift up my skirt. He chuckles as he trails a finger down my clothed slit watching me squirm. His palm lands on my backside and I gasp jolting forward. His other hand is close behind and I whine as it makes contact. He slowly peels my panties down and as he kneads my tender flesh. 

“You’re fucking soaked.” his voice like gravel as he shoves two fingers into me. 

“Benji,” I arch my back digging my nails into his thigh. He pounds his fingers into me as he brings his other hand down upon my cheeks again. I push my hips back into his fingers as a cry escapes my lips when his thumb finds my bud. 

“Doing so good fucking yourself on my fingers.” he curls his fingers and I burst around him crying out his name. He rips my panties the rest of the way off and has me face down on the bed in seconds. His fingers dig into my hips as he lifts them into the air. I mewl as has he swirls his tip around my wetness as I push back into him. 

“So impatient.” he chuckles before sliding into me fully. 

“Benji please,” I fist the sheets as the air is knocked out of me. 

“What do you want, my good girl?” he taunts rolling his hips into mine. 

“I need you to move.” I gasp as he pulls out and slams back in. Moans pour from my lips as he sets a brutal pace. 

“Taking me so fucking good.” he grunts as my face slides against the sheets. My high starts to coil while his fingers grip my hips. As I begin to pulse around him I feel his hips stutter and he pulls out. He flips me over and lifts my legs up to my chest before sliding back into me. 

“Yes, fuck Benji,” I sob as my eyes roll back. With every roll and snap of his hips my high quickly builds. I start to come undone and his hips falter before pouring into me. I shutter as he pulls out and collapses next to me while we slow our panting.

I turn to him and see him finally removing his clothes. I bite my lip as he turns back to me nude and begins to tug off my skirt. He pulls me up while he takes off my shirt and bra and looks down at me with dark eyes and a promising smile. 

“I’m not done with you yet.” he scoots between my thighs and I cry out as his lips attach to my sensitive bud. 

His tongue lashes against me relentlessly as I arch off the bed. His hand finds my breasts and begins to roll and pinch my nipple. I feel his tongue dips into my center and I buck against his face. His hands make their way to my hips as he grinds me against his nose as I start to come undone. 

“Fuck, Benji.” my legs close around his head as he keeps lapping at my wetness. He holds my legs open against the bed as his torturous tongue focuses on my bud. My hands are buried in his hair as I arch of the bed almost screaming as my high washes through me again. 

“A very good girl.” he hums placing a soft kiss on my center sending shivers down my body. The soft licks he offers me sends shockwaves through my body as I whimper above him. “You ready for more?” he hums as I feel his hardened length against my leg and nod my head. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

This is a direct follow up to Story #387, Story #389, and Story #394. It is strongly advised that you read those stories first.

#400

“There he is!  Timothy Stone, get on up here!...  Welcome aboard!  Welcome to the Zelus.  I see you are impressed with my tiny tugboat.  Ha! Ha!  I love looking at reactions of new passengers.  You ever been on a yacht this big?

“It’s sixty-nine feet, and enough power to get us around the entire Bahamas and back here to West Palm Beach.  It has four staterooms and two crew quarters.  You get one of them.  Sorry, with the entire executive team here each of us will get our own stateroom. 

“Let me text Lloyd to take us out of the marina.  All of us have been here for some time.  No, don’t worry about it.  I told you to be here at three, and it’s five ‘til three.  No, we’ve been having fun with our new faggot we got tied up….

“You want a drink?...  I have this cognac that I was given in Vegas the other day by a potential client.  I haven’t tried it yet.

“Ahh we are moving.  We should be out of the marina in a few minutes.

“Here you go….  Cheers!  …Ahhh!  Smooth.  I’m not a fan of cognac, but this is pretty good.  It should be.  Courvoisier Mizunara is supposed to be one of the best out there.  On the shelves it’s worth $2,500.  But shit, I couldn’t tell that from a $100 bottle.  Bourbon is more my thing. 

“Growing up in Tennessee, my Uncle Jimmy used to make his own.  Everyone in a five-mile radius of his home had a bottle of his bourbon.  I used to help him out in his garage in the evening when his son went off to college.  Uncle Jimmy showed me everything, but we always wound-up drinking.  I was sixteen at the time.  I’d plow his ass at the end of the night.  After a few times, he didn’t even wait until we started drinking.  He had one of the best pieces of ass I ever had.

“His bourbon lives on with my cousin once my uncle passed.  I have a bottle of it here.  I may break it out sometime during this trip.  My cousin fucked it up when he went ran the company.  It’s definitely not as good as it was before.  Some boys just don’t have a mind for business.

“Speaking of boys in business, your son Michael is doing great.  From what Lloyd was telling me, he’s really taking to his new role as intern.  I know he finds it a challenge, but Lloyd, Ben, and Gary think he’s handling it better than anyone they have seen in a long time.  Apparently, he has a gift for adapting, kinda rolling with the punches.

“What I like about him—I met him this morning—is his ability to take directions without complaints.  That is such a difficult characteristic to find in boys these days.  Lloyd and Gary were indicating they want to keep him around after his initial internship.  I left him earlier working hard trying to impress me.

“…Oh you hear that cabin tone?  That’s Lloyd telling everyone that we’ve cleared the marina and are out at sea.  This is your first time on the Zelus.  When we are in open water, we strip naked.  All of us.

“I told you the other day when we were talking about promoting you to lead our European expansion, that we are a close group of men—of four gay men.  We share our conquests, our lusts, our dark needs with each other.  I trust these men like I would trust my brother, if not more.  We have been in countless gang bangs tearing up some faggot’s cunt.  I have seen their cocks and asses so much that it’s awkward to see them clothed.  The other two on board are faggots.  Naturally those two are going to be kept naked.

“So strip.  This is not an option.  You can jump overboard and swim back to shore if you would like.

“Good.

“You can leave them on the couch.  Ben’s boy will put them in your cabin.  If you go out on deck you can keep your sunglasses and baseball cap on.

“You have got to realize that the four of us have known each other for years.  Lloyd and I go back to our time in the Corps.  What connects us is our love for using and abusing faggots. 

“Right now, as I was saying there are two faggots on board.  One is Ben’s boy.  While Ben has taken him on as a partner of sorts, he’s still a faggot at heart.

“…I guess I should ask, do you know the difference between a gay man and a faggot?  A faggot is a gay man who has a need, an urge, a longing to submit to the whims of superior men.  The more humiliating, degrading, cruel the better.  Faggots live for the cum of its superiors.  It loves to degrade itself in order for the man to be elevated.  It needs the beatings, the piss, the bondage, the punishment to feel complete.

“I don’t know why you were hesitating about stripping.  You have a great body, average sized dick, nice long foreskin, and holy shit… Those balls are huge!  Let me hold on to them….

“Hey don’t hesitate.  We are all physical with each other as well.  Look, I’m standing here in front of you naked.  I already saw you check out my dick.  Yes, it’s very fat.  If you want to touch it, go right ahead.

“You know, as a man who says he bisexual, you certainly seem apprehensive….  Or is it the fact that I’m your boss telling you to take a hold of my cock.  I get it.  If you are going to be a part of this team, you are going to have to drop those pretenses.  When you walk around you should let those low hangers swing free and guide your every step.

“Let me check out your ass.  Hey, what can I say?  I’m an ass man.  I’m going to see it anyways, might as well be now.

“Solid and meaty, just as I would have guessed.  Nice and hairy.  Faggots seem to love licking a hairy crack.  You ever have your ass eaten out?...  There may be some ass eating ahead.

“Speaking of which, right now that faggot is down below.  It is tied down, blindfolded with a noise cancelling headset on, ass up.  The four of us have already bred it.  You will be up next.

“Your cock doesn’t seem like it wants to get hard….  Do you need something?  We have Viagra, Cialis, Levitra, Muse, Tri-mix.  Well, I need a shot of Tri-Mix.  After this morning’s big load, I don’t think I could get hard again until tomorrow.

“You ever do Tri-Mix?  I use it when I want to fuck for a long time.  It keeps me boned up for a few hours.  You want to try it?  After a few minutes have passed you will be rock, and I mean rock hard.

“If you are nervous, this being your first time with me on the Zelus, just do it.  Let me get it.  It’s kept cold.  Don’t worry, I have a doctor that gives me whatever I want.

“Just stand right there.  Don’t worry.  I’ve done this many times.  Yes it’s an injectable.  And it’s injected into the shaft.  Aww, don’t turn into a pussy on me.

“I brought two syringes.  Let me do it to myself.  Here watch….  It goes in, I plunge, and it comes out.  Like that.  It’s over quick.  Now a few tugs and I can already feel it working.  I’m not going to get completely rigid for about 15-20 minutes.

“Look, you say you are bisexual, but I’m thinking that you are making up the gay side of it because you want to impress us.  You want this promotion so fucking bad you are willing to fuck some faggot in front of us.  You wouldn’t be the first straight man to shoot up his cock to fuck fags.  There’s a whole term for it: gay-for-pay.

“You want to be part of this team, you are going to need to learn to love using faggots, that includes dumping a load into them.  To do that you need to get hard.  This injection will do that for you.

“Here feel my cock again.  Grab a hold of it….  Feel that?  It’s harder than a few minutes ago.  Here let me inject you.

“Come here.  Just look up.  On the count of three.  One!  See, it went in….  And now you are done.  Give it a few tugs and you will start to feel it.

“You’ll be hard for the rest of the night.  Lots of fucking in your future tonight. 

“When we had our conversation in Vegas, I told you that I was pissed off at your skimming the profits but was very intrigued at the process you used to do so.  It took some serious creativity to pull that off.  I was impressed.  The guys too.  We set this cruise out to a remote island in the Bahamas to get to know you—to get to know you as a fag fucker.  Besides, the shit we do… man, we wouldn’t take on anyone who had a shred of decency.

“Do you feel your cock getting larger?  I can see it growing.  Yeah, once we go downstairs into the media room that doubles as a dungeon, you will see the faggot cunt secured to the sling or fuck bench.  Your cock will slide into its cunt.  And it should be silky smooth.  Better than any woman’s pussy.

“We have been training this faggot for a couple of weeks.  Lloyd secured him about the time when you and I went to Vegas.  He was an easy target.  What you probably don’t realize being essentially straight is that there are faggots out there that will do just about anything to serve men like us—brutal men like us.  Lloyd has a good talent for reading a potential faggot.  He says things that just seems to work on getting that faggot to be collared.

“Once that happens then it’s only a matter of time that they submit to whatever we want to do to them.  And all it took was this.  See this little fob?  This is the tool we use.  Here, press the number one button.

“Do it again.  And again.  What you did, is you sent a shock to the faggot down below.  The collar we put on him is wired up, like a collar for a dog to get it to stop barking.  Once they feel that, total submission is almost immediate.  With this particular faggot, he turned into a whipping post for Ben and toilet paper for Gary in no time. 

“Where we keep the faggot is wired up for numerous cameras.  So we can see what the faggot is doing and send a shock from anywhere in the world.  I even sent one from Vegas when you were looking up some number from some report.

“Look at your cock.  It’s starting to get rigid.  Damn!  You are a grower! 

“You know, let’s go see the faggot.  The guys will be down there.  We are certainly far from shore so Lloyd will have the autopilot on.

“This way….  Doesn’t it feel right to be walking around buck naked?  Trust me you’ll get used to it, and soon enough you’ll be naked pretty much all the time.  If you need to piss and you don’t have a faggot nearby, just aim off the side and go.  The one thing you’ll learn is pissing with a hard-on will take some time, which is great for loading up a faggot’s toilet cunt.

“And here we are.  Before we go in, I want to point out that you can see the men are enjoying themselves.  In general, we casually use faggots’ holes.  It’s about pleasure and not so much about busting a nut, although busting a nut happens a lot.

“Look at how the men are enjoying what’s going on.  Ben is balls deep in his boy, while the boy is tongue fucking Gary’s shitter.  Lloyd is pile driving the faggot over on the fuck bench, stirring up the cum stew. 

“This is the life we created.  This is what you are coming into.  Let’s go in.

“Gentlemen!  I got Timothy here.  His cock has been shot up and he’s ready to fuck.

“Damn Tim!  You really are a grower.  I should have expected that when I saw your long foreskin.  Now only the tip shows.  Skin it back; I want to see how big your head is.

“Shit!  Do you ever clean that thing?  Look at that dick cheese….  Come here.  Stick your dickhead in the faggot’s mouth.  He’ll clean you off. 

“The faggot is blindfolded and has noise canceling headset under his hood.  He won’t know what to do until you use the handle on his hood to pull his head back.  Then just shove your dick in his mouth.  The faggot knows to clean off dick cheese; I’m sure Gary made sure of that. 

“There you go….  I see that smile.  Feels good, doesn’t it?  Better than any woman.  A well-trained faggot is better than anything a woman can do. 

“Well you got Gary and Ben to stop and watch you.

“Oh you see his welts.  Yeah, a well-trained faggot also takes a beating.  We punish faggot slaves appropriately, but they also are made to understand that sometimes the beatings are for our enjoyment.  Ben and Lloyd certainly like to have their fun.

“This faggot has been trained to do so much.  He’s going to fetch us a good price.  Yeah, we plan on selling him.  There are men around the world that pay top dollar for a well-trained faggot slave.

“Pull out.  I said pull out.  I told you that you will enjoy this.

“Lloyd, move the faggot to the sling.  I think Tim here is ready to fuck.

“While he’s doing that, care for another drink?  Or would you like a cigar?  No?  Ok.

“Boy.  Go upstairs and pour Tim here a glass of the Courvoisier Mizunara cognac.  The bottle should be sitting out.  Hell, bring the whole bottle down.

“That’ll help you adapt and sink into everything to come.  So have you ever been to a gang bang, or fucked a woman who has several loads in her?  The feeling on your cock is amazing.  Yes it’s sloppy, but it also feels silky smooth.

“That’s a sight, isn’t it?  That cunt has been trained to take cock after cock and still remain tight to give pleasure and loose enough to not cause your dick to struggle to fuck.

“Here’s your cognac.  Might as well down it.

“Now go on.  Step up.  Slide it in.  Trust me, this is going to be a fuck you will never forget. 

“…Good.  You ready? 

“There you go!  There’s the smile.  Now FUCK!

“Give that faggot what he deserves.  Slam into him.  Faggots were made to be fucked not made love to.

“Hell yes!  Look, we are all stroking our dicks for you.  You have no idea how hot this is….

“Guys, gather around.  You should see this up close.

“…Go for it!  Don’t hold back.  Breed the faggot. 

“FUCK YEAH!  FUCK!

“…You did it!  In record time!  Well done!  Don’t pull out yet.  Let the rest of your body calm down first.  Savor the feeling.  Savor the moment. 

“You did good.  Now, I need for you to pull out slowly.  The faggot is trained to clamp down.  Good.  Good!

“Look at that slime on your cock.  That’s all our juices.  How do you feel?  I know.  Words elude you?... Ha!

“Get on your knees….  You heard me.  I want you to look at this faggot’s cunt. 

“Gary, pull apart the fag’s cheeks.  Let’s really see that cunt hole.

“On your knees….  There you go.

“Ben.  Lloyd.  Now.

“…They move fast, don’t they?  You have the same shock collar on you as the faggot does.  Now pay attention.  This is a level one zap. 

“…Hurts like a motherfucker, right?  There are ten settings, and you had the weakest.  I don’t think another demonstration is needed.  Do you understand your situation?

“…Shut up.  I don’t want to hear your babble.  That was a ‘Yes Sir’/’No Sir’ question…. 

“OK.  You really thought you could skim money from us and be rewarded with a promotion?  Please!  You need some sort of punishment.  That begins with your lips kissing the faggot’s cunt lips.  Go on!  Lean in. 

“…That was level two….  There you go! 

“Now keep your mouth open.  The faggot may be wearing a noise cancelling headset, but we can speak to him.  He’s going to be told to shit some of his cunt slop into your mouth.  Do not swallow it.  Nod if you understand.  Good.

“Whew!  That was a messy fart!  Remember don’t swallow.  Now pull back.  Look up at us.  Show us the load.  Now gargle it.  Like mouthwash! 

“Two minutes ago, you were a man, but now you are a gargler of cum gobs.  Now don’t swallow.  Stop gargling.

“Get up and go share that in the faggot’s mouth.  Get up….  You know I hate having to repeat myself.  If I have to do it again, you will experience level three.  Now go and have a deep passionate kiss with the faggot.

“Hold his head and swap spit.  Pretend he’s a woman.  Hell, pretend it’s your son Michael’s mother.  I don’t care.

“Fuck yeah!  I didn’t realize that you are an excellent kisser.  Pull off.  There will be more kissing.  Get back to kneeling at the faggot’s cunt. 

“You are going to repeat the process exactly the same, except for the gargling.  You can skip that.  Any hesitation will be met with level three for triple the length.  You understand.  Just nod.

“Good.  Oh, I forgot to tell you one thing.  You need to hear it before you go back to eating another splatter fart out of your son’s ass….

“…Oh yeah!  The faggot here is your son Michael.  This is the internship we set him up with.  Oh yeah.  Your son was a faggot before us.  It was easy for us to pluck him.

“Now, remember level 3.  You are to do the exact same thing with the same level of passion.... I'm fucking serious.  Go!

“…Damn!  That was close.  A split second longer in hesitating and you would have been shocked.  Keep licking.  While you wait to receive your gift from your son’s cunt, Lloyd here is removing your son’s hood.  He still has his blindfold and headset on.  We will be removing those shortly.  You probably won’t recognize him initially because Ben had removed all this body hair even on his head.

“Did you hear that?  Gary just busted a nut watching you felch out our loads from your son’s cunt.

“Pull off when your mouth is full.  Good.  Now go French kiss your son. 

“Just like before.  Go on now….  Fuck yeah!

“This is so hot.

“Now go back to his cunt.  But this time remain standing.

“Stick  your slime covered cock back into your boy’s cunt.  And fuck him.  That Tri-mix I injected you with should keep you hard for a long time.  You’ve already fucked a load into him.  Now just fuck.

“You really should see yourself.  Oh wait, you can.  Look over at that TV.  Yes, we have been filming you.  See your face.  There’s panic, fear, guilt, regret, and even a little disgust.  All the good emotions.  And over on the TV to your right, you can see how your son became a faggot with each of us.  Oh yeah, he wasn’t coerced into being a faggot like you were.  No, he was totally into sperm burping and pole riding.  The fear you had that he might be gay turned out to be true in the most glorious way.

“DO NOT STOP FUCKING.

“And now, we get to see shame you have in him and in yourself, by taking the headset off first. 

“Faggot, it is imperative that you do not say a word.  If either you or the shithead fucking you say one word, you both will get shocked at level 3.  This includes screaming.  I want both of you to nod that you understand.

“Good.  Now Tim, remove the blindfold. 

“Look into your son’s eyes.  Let him see just how much your fuck up has cost him.  All this is because you had arrogance and ambition.  You tried to fuck us over, you tried to steal from us, and you believed that we would be ok with it and promote you as well?  Fuck that!

“Are you crying?  You are!...  Do not stop fucking your son.

“Faggots!  That was level 3.  Yes!  The both of you got shocked.  That’s how punishments will be going forward.  One fucks up, then both gets shocked.

“Now get back to fucking your son.

“Here’s the situation.  We still have about four hours to go.  And you have a hard on that will last another three to six.  You will be fucking him non-stop until we get to where we are going.  Until then, you will not say one word to each other.  Remember those shock collars we have padlocked on you were meant for barking dogs.  If you say one thing, the sensors will register sounds and you two will be shocked.  Also, that sling has a sensor that will monitor for movement.  If that movement stops or even slows down—say due to stopping fucking—you two will be shocked.  Tim, if your collar should go more than 6 feet away from your faggot son’s collar, you two will be shocked.  If any one of us bring up one of our video feeds and see that your cock is not inside your faggot son’s cunt, you two will be shocked.  I will free the faggot’s hands.  I want the two of you to enjoy playing with each other’s chest.  What can I say?  I’m a nice guy.

“That’s a lot of fucking between the two of you between now and when we reach the island.  But here’s one thing before we leave you both to go have dinner.  That island is a small private island, about two to three acres.  There’s a small dock and a metal shed to shield from the elements.  The owner of the island always has a box stocked with water bottles and something to eat.  Last time we sold a faggot there, they put in a hammock between two of the four trees on the island.

“Faggot, you will be left on the dock.  The island owners will send carriers to pick you up either tomorrow or the next day.  From there, they will arrange delivery to your new owners.

“Until then you are free to roam the small island.  Swim.  Whatever.  If you want to swim to the next island, it’s about 7 miles in open ocean, and that island is about ten times larger, but still uninhabited.

“So that’s the life your dad has caused you to have.  Look at him.  He’s a failure, and he knows it. 

“Well Tim.  While you cry, keep fucking your son.  This will be the last few hours with him.  What do you have to say?  Oh, let me turn off your noise sensor….

“…No we can’t simply forget all this.  You stole a lot of money from us, it needs to be paid.  We paid a lot in fuel to get us out here.  We paid for a pick up on the island.  They expect a faggot.  Now, if you want to switch places with your son, that can be arranged.

“You want to do that?  You want to be sold into sex slavery instead of your faggot son?...

“…Well fuck!  I wasn’t expecting that!  You didn’t waste any time in shaking your head no.

“Faggot, did you see how fast your dad just gave you up?  Shit! 

“These past weeks have been carefully planned.  Every word, every detail.  From the Vegas trip where we had our talk, to Lloyd convincing faggot here to sign up to be our intern, to the strip club dancer I paid to have sex with you so that a potential buyer could see you in action, to the tri-mix dose on hand, to the video feeds cued up, and to me handing the shock remote to dear old dad to get him to shock his son three times.  The one thing I was expecting you to do was the fatherly thing and offer to go instead of your son.

“Nope.  You chose to sacrifice your son.  Didn’t even think twice.  That’s fucking brutal.  Just when I think you can’t be more of a piece of shit, you surprise me.

“No YOU are going to be sold, not your faggot son.  Your new owner saw you fuck that stripper, and he wanted you.  He’s into hairy middle-aged straight men as his sex slaves.  He doesn’t want your hairless faggot son.

“So you are going to be sold.  But I wonder.  Hmm.  I’m going to contact your new owner and see if he’s interested in the pair of you two as a set.  Yeah, that is a great idea, to sell your son into slavery as well.  If you had just offered yourself up instead of your son, he would have been spared.  But no. 

“If you have anything to say, save it.  I just put your noise sensor back on.  Get back to fucking your son.

“Gentlemen let’s go have some dinner.  Ben, I see your boy is gone.  To start cooking I presume.  You are one step ahead, as always.  Let’s leave these two have some private time.  They have lots to talk about, too bad they can’t say anything.  Lloyd, I know you have been eying that cognac.  Go ahead and grab it.  It’s yours for all the hard work you put in.  Actually, you all did good.  I’m proud of you all.  That was fun.”

[eerna]

How they did it bad?

Bridgerton s3 spoilers for the awful WLW twist. Francesca's plotline this season revolves around her falling in love with John. They are both "strange", AKA autistic coded, and their courtship revolves around kind, gentle shows of care instead of dramatic outbursts. Violet, Francesca's mother, believes this means they aren't really in love, because in her opinion, sex and lust are the only clear indicators of true love. Before Francesca's wedding Violet admits she was wrong, that love can look differently for everyone, and just because Francesca wasn't so smitten that she couldn't remember how to speak when John was nearby, it doesn't mean she doesn't love him. Yayyyy a different approach to love in Bridgerton, where sexual attraction isn't treated like the only indicator you should be with someone, what joy!!! Is what a STUPID NAIIVE BABY would say because when Francesca kisses John at the wedding she clearly dislikes the experience, and when John introduces her to his cousin, Michaela (Michael in the books), Francesca is so smitten she forgets how to speak. Which clearly shows Violet was right and Francesca's love DOES work like everyone else's, she just doesn't love John. So they used a "SHE WAS A LESBIAN ALL ALONG" plot twist to discredit love based on honest understanding and care as opposed to animalistic attraction, and autistic people interacting in ways others might not understand, all in one fell swoop. In the books Francesca has a fulfilling marriage with John, he dies, and she has a fulfilling marriage with Michael. In the show she is gonna have a disappointing marriage with John because she is CLEARLY meant to be with her One True Love Michaela. #Justice4John