#this is the horniest damn thing I have ever written

[thelovelyruin]

𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖊 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you heard choso was an eater, and you wanna find out if it’s true.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, HORNY, let's be honest, porn with very little plot, oral sex, praise, teasing, fingering.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 2.7K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from tongue twister by cash cash.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! probably the horniest shit i’ve ever written. i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

I want your tongue twister; got me beggin' for your head spinner!

Now, when you heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that Choso was an eater, you took it with a grain of salt. You hadn’t seen him talk to anyone since about a year ago, but that was when he broke up with his ex (who you’d assume was the one who started the rumor); she cheated or something like that; you didn’t give a damn because you had a boyfriend at the time. But that was a year ago. And Choso looked fine now. He’d had a bit of glow-up since then, doing a new hairstyle since he let his hair grow out, some tattoos, and working out a bit. He also became a little more social, still keeping to himself but a little more outgoing at parties and whatnot. You’d never really had a conversation with him, only ever seeing him on campus, both of you wrapped up in conversations to really notice each other. That was until right now.

I want it, I want it; let's get loud!

“CHOSO, CHOSO, CHOSO!”

They’d all been doing a strikeout competition, which pretty much consisted of taking a hit of a blunt, doing a shot, chugging a beer, and then, finally, exhaling. Most guys throw up or can’t even make it past the shot, but Choso had won three times now, which everyone was pretty damn excited about. You’d think he’d be hammered now, but technically, it had only been three shots, so no biggie, but they were tequila shots. He was a little tipsy, laughing as Yuuji raised his hand in celebration, the other guys getting hyped and banging on their chests, walking up to give him dap. Once the main event pretty much ended, you went to walk away until:

“Wait, wait, wait, you guys gotta see him do this thing!”

“Nah, Yuuji, I don’t think I can right now.”

“Nonsense, we got you; somebody get the damn cherries out the fridge.”

Now what the fuck were they gonna do with that? They brought them up to Choso, sitting them on the counter as everyone watched him pull one out the case.

“Fuck it.”

Choso put it in his mouth; what, he was gonna take a shot with a cherry in his mouth? That’s pretty basic compared to what he was just doing. Except he hadn’t taken a shot after. And did he eat the whole damn thing? What about the-

“HOLY SHIT HE DID IT!”

Choso stuck out his tongue, the stem of the cherry tied into a heart. Everyone went batshit, completely impressed by the trick. His friends, yet again, hyped him up. He looked around at everyone smiling, that was, until he made eye contact with you. And what did you look like? Flustered as fuck. When he pulled it onto his tongue, you felt something in the pit of your stomach, which shot straight on down. It was pretty fuckin’ hot. But why were you so excited? Because it proved, he really was an eater.

‘Cause I can't fight the feeling of your tongue twister, I want it!

You’d walked away after that; he’d gotten a rise out of you for sure, and you had to go cool down. You’d found Nobara and Mai by the pool, drinking some punch and smiling at you as you walked up to them.

“Told you!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think he was gonna do that!”

“It’s a party trick, ya know. Yuuji on his shoulder, it was bound to happen.”

“You say that like you’ve seen it before!”

“‘Cause we have. He’s just not my type.”

Nobara shook her head in agreement, leaving you surprised. 

“Now, go get some punch and loosen up; we’re about to play beer pong soon.”

So fine girl, I must be dreamin'...

“Fine.”

With that, you walked back to the kitchen, grabbed a cup of punch, and headed back to-

“Hey.”

You almost jumped out of your damn skin. You knew it was him, you’d recognize his voice from earlier, but when you turned around, you hadn’t expected to see him like this. His eyes were half-lidded, bloodshot from being high probably, and flushed a bit from the alcohol. He leaned against the counter, eyes looking up at you.

“Um, hey.”

Now, Choso wasn’t a homewrecker. He thought you were pretty damn cute, but he knew you had a boyfriend, so he backed off. That was until tonight when he caught eyes with you and asked Yuuji about you, who told him you’d broken up with your ex a year ago, but Yuuji wasn’t always a reliable source. So, Choso was feeling a little hot, in a horny way; you possibly being single put a fire under his ass. So now, he was talking to you.

“Saw you earlier; why didn’t you play?”

“Oh, not really my type of game?”

“No? Why’s that?”

“I’m not a big tequila drinker. Um, my friends are waiting, so I should probably get going.”

You felt so hot; you had to go back to Mai and Nobara. There was no way you could keep doing this, especially when he looked like that, like some sort of animal that wanted to eat you alive. But then again, after tonight, that wasn’t so bad. You shot him a little wave and walked off; now you just had to find out where-

“Wait a second.”

He’d grabbed your arm now, not enough to hurt you, but enough to shift your attention back to him with a look that said you weren’t going anywhere. So, you didn’t.

“Um, what’s up?”

“You know, I gotta tell you somethin’.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“I think you’re real pretty. Usually, yeah, but tonight, your curves look pretty damn good in that dress.”

You wanted to respond; truly, you did, but you completely froze when he looked you dead in your eyes. You were about to die; your panties were probably fucking soaked from all this interaction with him. You were fuckin’ melting when he brought his hand behind your waist, bringing you closer to him. Choso brought his lips up to your ear, licking the skin there. He didn’t really give a fuck if you had a boyfriend at this point.

I’m comin' in, and you got me talkin'…

“Can I eat your pussy?” 

“Can you do wha-”

”You heard me, princess.” 

“Um, I uh-” 

“Meet me, upstairs bathroom, five minutes.”

With that, he let you go, walking off somewhere in the party. You were nearly panting. The fuck did he just ask you? You found Mai and Nobara at the ping pong tables, unable to speak.

“Oh, there you are. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just- um, I gotta go, uh, use the bathroom! But, I have to, um, just don’t check on me, I’ll be fine.”

“Uh, okay, girl. Call us if you need us.”

“Yeah, no problem!”

You walked away from them, still in shock from what was about to happen. He’d said 5 minutes, right? You could use the other 3 to get in there and cool off; try to act normal about this. You scurried up the stairs, controlling your breathing as you opened the bathroom door.

 It's about time; let my lips start walkin'!

“Here early, huh?”

Choso pulled you into the bathroom, making sure no one was looking and locking it behind him. He turned to look at you, walking up and kissing you softly. You felt like someone was putting you on ice, calming down a bit, but mostly because you didn’t want him to feel you shaking in anticipation. He was so laid back, pulling away to look at you.

“Why ya so nervous?”

“Is that even a question? You told me a couple minutes ago you wanted to eat me out, and now, we’re here for you to do that.”

He chuckled and brought his hands under your ass, lifting you to sit on the counter. He massaged your hips as he looked into your eyes, kissing you again, bringing his hand up to the back of your neck to deepen it. You couldn't help but bring your hands up to his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hand found its way to the arch in your back. Your fingers ran through his hair, and you swore you heard him groan a little into the kiss. He pulled away from you, half-lidded eyes looking at you up and down.

“Got a question for ya.”

“What’s that?”

“You got a boyfriend?”

“No, but it’s a little too late for that, huh?”

“Nah, I’d have you in here either way.”

Now you wanna make my head drop…

You blushed at his confidence as he brought his lips back to you, this time on your collarbones, sucking lightly as his hand rested on your thigh. When he got to the top of your dress, he came up and gave you a quick kiss, letting your straps down and hooking his fingers in the front of it to pull it down; your tits falling out. He brought his hand up to massage them, his mouth next to your ear again.

“Nice tits, princess.”

You felt your body perk up at his comment, making him chuckle as he brought his mouth down, taking a nipple in his mouth. That tongue of his was just getting started, sucking in and kissing your nipples as you moaned into his touch.  He’d been smiling at your positive reaction, bringing a hand down your body, feeling your pussy through your thong. He came up to your mouth and kissed you, smiling as his hand kept massaging your panty-clad pussy.

“This wet for me? I’m honored.”

God, you wished he’d shut the fuck up. Not because you didn’t like what he was saying, but because it was a little too physically effective. Choso was a little excited now, high on, well, high in general, but also on how worked up you’d gotten for him. Hooking his fingers in your thong, he pulled it down your legs, kissing the skin that led to the way back up. He had your body like putty in his hands, grabbing your ass and bringing you closer to the edge of the counter so he could get a good look at you. With two fingers, he spread your lips, precum soaking his fingers as he smiled at your reaction to him finally touching you.

Getcha in ya sweet spot…

“So fuckin’ pretty…”

Choso brought your legs over his shoulder, kissing your inner thighs as you squirmed, dying for him to touch you how you wanted. He chuckled at your reaction, then got to work. He brought his lips down to your pussy, letting his tongue split your folds like he was knocking on the damn door. That is until he opened the door for himself, sticking his tongue inside of you, dipping deep to make sure he could really taste you. You’d been moaning out, trying to keep as quiet as possible to ensure you didn’t alert anyone that the bathroom was extremely occupied.

Meanwhile, he was shamelessly groaning, exploring you like a hidden treasure. It was really when he moved his tongue to your clit that you were groaning his name, fingers in his hair as he lapped you up. He started slow, but then anticipation got the best of him, licking you up like his life depended on it. He felt too fuckin’ good, your pussy basically screaming at the satisfaction. 

He’d opened your legs with his hands at this point; you were so stimulated you couldn’t keep them closed. Then, there was that fuckin’ eye contact. He shot darts at you, watching your every move, closing your eyes, throwing your head back; he wanted to see it all. You’d arch your back every time he licked your clit up and down and pulled your body forward every time he circled it. Like a fuckin’ movie, and he was the director. You knew you couldn’t take it much longer; that fire inside of you was burning up, getting hotter by the second. At this point, you were grinding your pussy against his face, feeling him smile as you begged him to make you cum.

“I’m close…”

Choso kept going, this time a little slower, teasing you to hold out a little longer. He wasn’t quite done having fun. He’d decided he wanted to feel your pussy on his fingers before you came, pumping them in and out of you real slow but curling them up to hit that spot inside of you. With a final look at you, he picked up the pace with his tongue again, bringing his fingers out so his hands could keep your legs still. You were goin’ crazy, gripping the sink, his hair, anything, trying to brace yourself for what was about to come. And then, you came. You threw your head back as your body tensed up, hand steady in his hair. He brought his hand up to cover your mouth before you could get loud, feeling you screaming his name into his hand. 

Choso stood up now, wiping his face off and kissing you on your neck. He held you as you came down, head falling on his shoulder from how hard you came. He found your dress on the floor, putting it on you as you came to. You were spent. You had to hold your arms over his shoulders as he slid it up your body, kissing you when he brought it all the way up, and lastly, bringing his mouth to your ear.

“Such a good girl for me.”

Gonna make your body go crazy!

I want it; I want it one more time…

When you woke up the next day, it felt like almost nothing had happened until you saw the hickeys on your neck and legs. And you in Choso’s T-shirt. And his sheets. You immediately called Mai and Nobara to see what the hell happ-

“Oh, you’re up!”

Choso walked into the room, freshly showered, briefs hanging low on his waist that were quite thin, despite the very, um, thing they were meant to cover up.

“What happened last night? I know we-wait, did we?!”

“No, not all. After I ate you out, you damn near passed out, so I brought you back here to my place and gotcha all cleaned up, ya know, shower and took your makeup off. Then I put a shirt on you and laid you in my bed, so I took the couch. Didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything.”

“Oh, um, thank you?”

“No problem, princess.”

He walked over to his dresser to get some clothes out, hanging his towel over the back of his chair. You know you probably shouldn’t, but you had to know; the thought was itching you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk to you about your, um, reputation.”

“Oh, you talkin’ bout the rumors and stuff?”

“Yeah, those.”

Choso came over and sat with you on the bed, rubbing your thigh as he spoke.

“Yeah, I’ve heard ‘em. What people don’t know is that it originally came from Yuuji. The first time I did that cherry thing, he joked and said I looked like an eater, you know, like someone who, anyways, then it pretty much caught on. A lot of girls walk up to me these days, asking about its truthfulness and if they can test it out, but I’m not a very promiscuous guy. My last girl was last year, and that ended pretty toxic.”

I can't find the words to sing it: tongue twister! I want it, I want it!

“So, uh, why did you eat me out?”

“Well, I told you last night. I think you’re cute. I’ve seen you around for a while, but you're always in conversations with someone, I’m not one to interrupt. When I got a little fucked up last night, my dick pretty much told me to make a move, so here we are. I totally get if you’re not like looking for anything more than-”

“It’s not like that at all, um. It’s just surprising to hear you say all that.”

“So, what you’re saying is you do want that?”

“Um, I uh, yeah…”

He brought his lips to yours, kissing you passionately. When he pulled back from you, he gave you a smile as he blushed, but that ended pretty quickly when he brought his mouth to your ear.

“So, wanna go again?”

I wanna get you in a tongue twister, tied up in a tongue twister!

♱ the song used in this story is tongue twister by cash cash. 🖤

(this work is very different than my others! I encourage you to read speed. or fruit.)

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[khaleesiofalicante]

Ok yeah. I'm not done, and I'm making that everyone's problem😌. Sooo, other random thoughts!!

I remember in LBAF I, Selena said Rapunzel was her favorite princess when he asked David to tell her a story the first night he arrived at the NY Institute, but pretended not to know it so he could tell her anyway (CUTIES!). The thing is... I didn't realized that was foreshadowing for her powers until recently and I was like WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE?! But same, Rapunzel is my favorite, my first princess crush lol

That Never have I ever fic lives in my mind 24/7, Dani!! And it was so heartbreaking and traumatizing, and omfg Rafael, what are you doing?? I love pain, I need more :)

Where dreams come true was also AMAZING. It was so adorable I wanted to stab myself 🥺🥺. Milo Thatch was my crush since I saw that movie and came out of it bisexual without realizing it LMAO.

Also now that I'm thinking about it, I had a lot of crushes when I was little, but I didn't realize it until later... Is this a bisexual experience????

When you’re married to Magnus Bane, you don’t question whether God exists. You know he does, and you know damn well you’re his favorite. Malec really be saying the most profound things about each other with so much devotion and going on with their lives as if it didn't just destroy mine??? I love it🥰

At this point there's no way David isn't a direct descendent of Jonathan Shadowhunter. There have been way too many connections with him looking like Raziel to be a coincidence😤 istg if shadowhunters start to love him after/if it happens I will kill someone 🔪

I was wondering if the rest of the Lightwood-banes ever found out about what happened to David in IALS? Because he and Max said they wanted to keep that to themselves, as they felt so much of their lives were already shared (good for them). But I'm really curious how they would react🤔

I've read "Good boys go to heaven but bad guys bring heaven to you" like thrice and I'm always laughing like the first time. Those two are so horny and down for each other (no pun intended!) since second 1 in every universe 😂😂

I realized I am a dumbass, because I was reading the name Gabriel as you would say in english and not spanish... SPANISH IS MY FIRST LANGUAGE AND GABRIEL IS FROM SOUTH AMERICA AM I AN IDIOT? ffs, my dad's name is Gabriel, my mind took so fucking long😂

Also, what do you mean some people pronounce Rafael as Rafa-yel??? That name I read it right from the first moment, I've always liked it a lot lol. I'm still confused as to how people say the nickname though, because it is written as "Rafe", but I've never heard that nickname to someone named Rafael, just "Rafa". Idk, I just say the full name lmao

I just want David to be fucking happy and I'm ready to get into a fistfight for him ok??? The way everyone keeps describing him in LBAF with a sad face and knowing something is up because David used to smile even in his sleep?!?!? 😭😭😭

I love how Jackson literally looked at David and went: "This is the gayest, horniest, most fucked up person with traumas I've ever met. I'm keeping him. This is my human now. I will protect him at all costs and kill for him without hesitation." In every universe, makes me soft 🥰

You better pay for my therapy, because now I can't hear the word "louder" and not have war flashbacks of that asshole of Malory 😡

Fun fact: I use art and music as foreshadowing A LOT. Including rapunzel - and Paradise Lost and some other stuff in LBAF V hehe.

I might write David's Never Have I Ever next. It's the only one I have a proper/concrete idea on. But I keep second guessing like "could it be worse????" lmao.

MILO THATCH GIRLIES ARE BISEXUAL I SAID WHAT I SAID.

No one else other than mavid family ever finds out about what really happened to David. It's what he wanted so they let him have that :)

NO NOT YOU PRONOUNCING GABRIEL LIKE A WHITE PERSON NOAH WHAT IN THE HECK.

Jackson rights only. Always.

[falinscloaca]

caught up on jujutsu kaisen, finally snapped waiting for the store i use to get new volumes (and for new volumes to get english’d in the first place) and GOD the culling game is so much better binged than deip-fed.

the criticisms (and like. spoilers) i’d heard for the parts i’ve now read are funny like. honestly in fitting with my prior complaints with the series i still AGREE with them but it also doesn’t actually… bother? me?? its a sign of a well-delivered series i guess to pull out misogynist character-importance-sorting and annoying-as-FUCK-invincible-villain-christs-sake-fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou and have the end product STILL be at the very least “quite enjoyable”

honestly if people HADN’T jumped all over JJK as the feministest shonen of the century best female characters “they’re written completely irrespective of gender!” (though that last portion is still… KINDA true… to an extent they live like humans die/expire/retire like women for. lack of a better phrasing. idfk this theory is still developing in my brain lol its not perfect) it wouldn’t feel like a smack in the face what happens with - damn i can’t explain this shit without spoilers. what happens to _________ in shibuya and since then wouldn’t feel like such a smack in the face. and honestly the more recent thing doesn’t ACTUALLY feel that bad in context despite it still being the woman dying first despite her like… everything. it has mr. cut-in-half-by-train energy from steel ball run, in a vacuum its fine & even out-of-vacuum its frustrating but still a completely viable plot point. But with the amount JJK gets gassed up as progressive I think its kinda funny the ways it manages to fall behind even Chainsaw Man (whose wierdass double-edged-sword gender dynamics seem to get mistaken for feminism OR outright manly chauvanism so god damn often and for either in about equal measure).

(like seriously chainsaw man is either the horniest least objectifying series or the least horny most objectifying series on earth and i’m not even sure WHICH people downplay the female nudity so fucking bad like dude reread Bomb and International Assassins its egregious and the least sexy thing i’ve ever read for the most part. like i have Concerns with how old Reze’s supposed to be which make me a bit bias against Those Scenes but fucks sake Quanxi should be my shit on a silver platter and its merely “kinda hot” rather than the “*incomprehensible noises from a homosexual with….. tastes… this stuff is applicable to*” that should honestly be expected. like it isn’t ENTIRELY up to the “lesbian porn made by and for men” effect, Fujimoto’s usage of sexuality in general either fucking SUCKS or is just fucking WIERD. like this stuff isn’t even *directly* connected to the misogyny argumentation but its THERE and its FUCKING HILARIOUS.)

[7deadlycinderellas]

Cabin Fever

(in which I write a quarantine fic that I actually manage to set in the canon universe)

AO3 link

 Day 1

The journey was only supposed to last three weeks.

There were business deals that needed their word in Dragonstone. Far too many of them for Gendry’s liking, but the deadline on them coincided with a wedding for one of Davos’s sons, so the trip could at least kill two birds with one stone.

And so, him and Arya had packed, checked with the twins (who, at ten years old, were actually ecstatic that they trusted them to be left home alone, ignoring of course that the whole staff had been tasked with keeping them busy and safe, and that the actual business of Storm’s End was being handled by the Castellan), booked passage on a merchant’s ship, and set off for Dragonstone.

The voyage there had been smooth, as had the work once they got there. Both of them were ecstatic to see Davos and Marya again, and the deals went smoothly, and it seemed like no time at all before they were on the ship back.

As befitting a lord and lady, their cabin was nicer than pretty much any of the others onboard. There was a bed wider than a bunk, a nightstand big enough for a basin and candle, a desk with two chairs, and even a window that could be opened.

Arya was lounged out on the bed, and Gendry at the desk the morning the knock came on the door.

Arya glanced up when Gendry got up to answer. They were set to reach Weeping Town later today, but they’ve made great time, maybe they’ve got there already.

“Milord,” she hears from the door. She’s even more confused to see the sailor standing as far back as he could.

“Is there a problem?”

“We’ve reached port early... but it appears several of the men below deck have come down with purple-spotted fever-”

Arya sees Gendry wince. She doesn’t have to ask- neither of them had had purple spotted fever as a child, but he’d told her the story of the year it had spread like wildfire through the orphanage, leaving scars upon the afflicted and rendering about half of them blind or deaf.

“What’s there to be done?” he asks the sailor.

“Standard procedure is to quarantine the ship for two weeks,” Arya feels her breath leave her chest, “No one comes in or out until we find out if anyone else is sick.”

After a moment, Gendry nods.

“Food will be brought in the morning. Please wait until the person who brings it has left to retrieve it. Rain buckets for bathing will also be brought- please empty them as well as your chamber pots out the window. I will come again when the ship has been cleared.”

Gendry closes the door behind him, and glances over his shoulder to where his wife is laying on the bed. She groans.

“Two more weeks…”

Gendry sighs.

“I do have a bunch of proposals I need to write out. And I need to send a letter to the woman running the orphanage we started up in Weeping Town.”

Arya nods.

“I have a ton of letters to keep up with too. I guess we should be able to spend these two weeks working.”

She nods again, and reaches into her bag and pulls out a stack of papers she’d brought with them.

After he finishes the first paragraph of the letter he plans to send back to Storm’s End, Gendry feels Arya’s eyes watching him.

“What?”

“Aren’t you hot? You can take off your jerkin in here, it’s just us.”

As it was spring now, the Stormlands could get quite hot, even through the frequent rains. He supposes she’s right, so he unties and shrugs off his leather jerkin, leaving him in just his linen undershirt.

Sometime later, when he’s finishing up the letter and looking it over, he hears a noise and tilts his head.

Arya has the top tie of her breeches unlaced, he can just see a tiny flash of peachy skin, covered in soft hair, and her fingers disappearing underneath the fabric.

He raises an eyebrow.

Arya sits up a bit on one elbow, but her fingers do not still.

“It occurs to me,” she starts, “That there is no castle staff here. We’re not supposed to be anywhere in five minutes. We have no responsibilities that must be completed today. Our daughters are not going to unexpectedly barge in. We have, in fact, been ordered not to leave our bedroom for two whole weeks.”

Gendry breathes in, then out, and places his quill on the desk. He stands with deliberation.

Slowly, he says, “Take off your pants.”

That first day, she rides him no less than a half dozen times. When his cock demands rest, she rides his fingers instead. And once their muscles have begun to slacken, he lays lazily on one side and licks her cunt raw.

Gasping, and dripping in sweat, he barely manages to roll over and kiss Arya on the head.

“Now that we’ve exhausted ourselves,” he starts, “ I really should work on those proposals tomorrow.”

He wakes up the next morning with his cock in her mouth

 Day 2:

Arya’s bent over one of the rain buckets they’d been brought that morning.

“Are you seriously doing laundry?”

Arya smirks at him.

“If I don’t, these sheets will smell worse than we ever could, and I’m not looking the gift horse of this nice, big, latching window in the mouth.”

She wrings it out best she can, and throws it over the open window, using the edge to hold it in place.  Might as well take advantage of the brief lack of rain.

“And you laughed at me for packing soap.”

 Day 3

“What proposal are you working on now anyway?”

Gendry raises his gaze from the paper to the bed where Arya’s finishing the soup that had been brought for supper.

“I’m sending out notice to several tradesmen in the area, to see if they’re willing to take in apprentices from the orphanage. They wouldn’t be required to house or feed them, since they would go back there at night, so I’m hoping that I can convince them not to charge for the training.”

Arya is thoughtful.

“We would have to vet them pretty harshly, and make sure the women at the orphanage know how to question the children when they return. Don’t want anyone just using them for free labor, or worse.”

They both nod, thinking of the horrific story they’d been told of the ship builder who’d taken Daron in as an apprentice after his parents died.

Gendry nods.

“I know. But it makes me so mad to see these big masses of children with no futures.”

Arya agrees.

“Sansa’s been trying some things up north, seeing if there are any farm families willing to take in orphans. She fears much the same as we do. There are too many orphans, but there are too many things that need doing to.”

It does seem, that there are an endless number of things that need doing when your livelihood is looking after an entire land's people.

 Day 4

“Arya are you...using that paper just to draw cocks?”

Arya makes a face.

“No- I was making a list of all the places back in Storm’s End where we’d fucked, but I think I actually ran out.”

He reaches over the desk and grabs her paper.

“Library, stables, cave, godswood…”

He keeps going. And going. Lot of fun memories in this list.

“I actually think you got them all.”

Her cocks are actually pretty good too, all thick and veiny with huge balls.

“Can you draw me some tits too?”

Arya huffs when she takes the paper back.

When she’s working on it, his mind is piqued, wondering what she’s coming up with.

But when she slides it back across the table with a smirk, he is pleased. She’s no artist, but the crude drawing of herself (he assumes, and he won’t imagine anyone else), nude, tits heaving and knees spread wide with her fingers buried inside herself is perfectly adequate.

“Hmm,” he says, unlacing himself, and taking his cock in hand. He doesn’t usually get roused so quickly, but something about this quarantine is making him feel young and carefree.  “Might need some alone time with this.”

“Oh come,” Arya groans, trying to reach over and grab it.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” he says, jumping up and out of her reach. He’s already pretty damn hard, and the picture is actually strangely arousing. His cock is at full mast now, and he tugs on it with fierce determination, moaning obnoxiously.

Eventually, she manages to yank the paper away, but it’s too late, Gendry’s stretched himself out on the bed, tugging rapidly at his cock, letting every nasty fantasy run through his head in her rough stick figures, and well before she can celebrate, he comes across his belly.

She gets her revenge later that night, retrieving the sculpted cock she’d obtained in a port in Essos during her years at sea. It was made of some sort of glass, solid and heavy, and shaped by a hand that obviously knew what it was going to end up being used for. Extremely easy to keep clean she’d said too. She’d shown it to him plenty before, often even letting him use it on her himself, though she insisted that it paled compared to the real thing.

“Why’d you even bring that?” he asks over his supper as she peels off her breeches, kneels over the cock and buries it deep in herself, bouncing up and down on it and moaning, deliberately meeting his eye.

“I thought you might be busy when we were in Dragonstone and I would get lonely.”

And he somehow manages to finish his supper in due time, despite the sounds of her pleasure and the squelch of it sliding in and out of herself echoing through the cabin.

 Day 5

“Seven hells, what day is it?”

“I have no idea,”

 Day 6

“How do you think Lyra and Lysa are coping without us?”

Arya sighs and sets down her letter.

“It probably sounds strange, but I don’t think they’ll even miss us at all. They’ve both gotten so independent lately.”

Neither of them have to say that they’d both missed the twins every single day since they’d been gone.

After a long silence, Gendry admits.

“Lyra told me before we left she wants to be a knight.”

Arya chuckles. She’s so pleased that her daughter is growing up where it might even be a possibility.

“In two years, if she hasn’t changed her mind, we can write to Brienne, see if her or Podrick could use a squire.”

They know it’s only a slim possibility that their child will still be on the same dream in two years time.

Gendry sighs.

“I suppose that would give us the answer for which one to name as heir.”

Arya frowns.

“It would, but it doesn’t mean Lysa would be ready for it. I don’t know why she’s so convinced that we would automatically pick Lyra. She hasn’t had a tantrum in years, and Maester Elric says they’re both good students.”

Gendry shrugs, and scoots back over to the bed so he can kiss her head.

“I don’t know. You’re still convinced you’re not beautiful, even though no one’s called you horseface in years.”

That makes her smile.

 Day 7

Gendry comes all over his hand almost as soon as he gets his breeches undone.

Arya wrinkles her nose.

“Seriously?”

“Hey I told you not to tease me so much.”

She had too, been teasing him all morning. Pouring water over her linen shirt and leaving it half buttoned up. Idly mentioning that she hadn’t bothered putting on smallclothes. Leaning over the desk so her tits were right in his face.

She sighs. Then gets a glint in her eye.

“How many times do you think you can get me off before you can go again.”

The glint is now mirrored in Gendry’s eye.

“Is that a challenge?”

She comes underneath his fingers, one.

Then under his tongue, two.

His tongue on her nub, stuffed with three fingers, three.

Three fingers, he curls and presses them up while sucking her nub. Four

She’s twisted onto her stomach now, and he gets four fingers in. Five

She’s stuffed full and grinding back against his hand, panting and swearing. He’s using both hands now, one in her cunt, one on her nub. Six, then seven.

She’s sweating and bleary eyed now, so Gendry pushes her back onto her back, and soothes her swollen, quivering flesh with his tongue. Eight, slowly, gently.

He only idly notices when his cock actually is hard again. This whole challenge thing is too much fun.

“Eight,” he announces, proudly.

Breathing heavily, Arya looks over her knees to his erection, big and purple and bouncing proudly.

“Well, come here and get on it.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“You want to keep going? Don’t you want to take a rest.”

Arya huffs, sits up and pushes him on his back, straddling him.

“Never.”

She can’t walk right for the rest of the day, but even as she reclines with a cloth soaked in cold rainwater on her groin, insists that it was completely worth it.

 Day 8

Arya is stymied.

“I don’t know how to respond to this letter Sansa sent me.”

Gendry looks up,

“What’s her trouble?”

“She’s thinking of getting married again and wants to know how she can find a husband who’s actually only interested in men.”

Gendry’s rendered speechless.

“She...wants a husband who doesn’t want her?”

Arya smiles grimly.

“That’s about it. She was hurt so badly by Ramsey, she doesn’t know if she’ll ever want to be with a man physically again. But the other northerners are pressuring her to marry and because there must always be a Stark in Winterfell…”

Gendry frowns in thought.

“I would say ask Daron and Tim for advice, but I don’t know if either of them can read.”

Arya sighs again, and picks up her quill.

 Day 9

“Is it raining again?”

“Did it ever stop?”

 Day 10

“Bella’s doing well, she says.”

Gendry raises his gaze. A year or two ago, with King Bran’s assistance, Gendry had been reaching out to and meeting his few remaining half siblings. Mya and Bella had both come to Storm’s End for a time, though both had chosen to move on now, they had both learned to read and write enough to keep in touch.

“Did she say how she’s liking Mistwood?”

Arya nods.

“Says it’s much nicer than where she was in the Riverlands, and the woman who’s training her is teaching her a ton. She especially likes that no one there knows what she used to do for a living.”

That had been the day Arya felt most like a proper lady. The day she had managed to subtly ask if Bella really in fact liked her line of work, or if she’d rather be spending her life doing something else. Her words still rung in her head.

‘It’s easy work to like when you’re young and want the acknowledgement that you’re pretty, but it really grinds on once you start to get older.’

And the old midwife in Mistwood had been happy enough to have a student.

Gendry grunts.

“Good, so she can stay there being all judgemental.”

“You’re still mad that she said we sounded boring?”

“All because we said we’d never invite a third person into our bed!”

“You’re too sensitive...beside, she wouldn’t understand that we’d still have to go about our lives and look that third person in the eye and talk to them afterwards, that would be weird…”

 Night 10/Day 11

Gendry wakes after dozing off by his wife whispering in his ear. Opening his eyes, he sees that she’s lit the candle on the bedside, and is standing beside him in her shift.

She moves to the desk, and pulls out the chair, before kneeling upon it. She leans forward onto the desk and lifts her shift over her hips, baring her arse and cunt to him. She looks back over her shoulder.

“Quick,” she whispers, “Before my husband gets back.”

Gendry stands, and slips into character as he sheds his sleep pants.

He runs his fingers over her cunt, which is dripping wet already (what on earth had she been up to before he woke?). He bends forward and mutters in her ear,

“What would your husband think if he saw you down here wiggling your arse for a bastard like me?”

He takes himself in hand and plunges into her roughly from behind.

Arya leans forward and presses her cheek against the wood of her desk as her breathing becomes rougher.

“He can’t make me feel like you do.”

Gendry grips her hips tightly and keeps thrusting faster and harder, making her moan.

“Bad little girl,” he says, “Leaving your lord husband to come and fuck a lowborn bastard. Someone should punish you for that.”

He can’t see Arya’s face, but he can practically see her eyes begin to twinkle.

“I have been bad. Maybe you should give me a spanking.”

He runs his hand along her smooth skin, considering, before raising it.

His hand lands across her bum with a ‘crack’.

“I’m not sure that quite got the message across.”

He slaps her bum twice more, each time earning a grunt and a rush of wetness around his cock.

He leans forward to whisper to her again.

“Let go then, come for me like he could never make you.”

He spanks her once, twice, three more times. Then he puts his hands on both her shoulders and pushes her to the desk so he can get better leverage. He fucks her like she’s a bit of metal on his anvil- hard and deep, but with skill and finesse. Arya’s moans rise almost to a scream and he feels her fluttering around his cock, not only once but twice, and he’s just about to-

She reaches back and grabs one wrist.

“I can’t have a bastard,” she cries out, still in character, “Come here, I’ll suck you off.”

She slides off the desk to the floor and kneels at his feet, looking up at him through her lashes in a way Arya never once has, before taking him in her hot little mouth. She sucks him with her sweet lips, moaning as she tastes herself on his cock. Gendry’s hands find the back of her head, winding his fingers in her hair, and thrusting against her face, moaning loudly, letting her know just how close he is.

When he comes with a yell, she swallows him down, his seed spilling out over her lips, which she licks. She stands, and kisses him, letting him taste the both of them together.

Later that night, back in bed, Gendry mutters.

“We’re going to have to come up with some better scenarios, I’m starting to feel bad for these made up men you’re cheating on.”

Arya snorts.

“Well we don’t have enough room in here to play wildlings.”

“I still don’t know why you had me run me ragged for that.”

Arya props herself up on one elbow to glare at him.

“If you think a wildling would just let you pick her up and have your way with her, you’ve got another thing coming.”

She’s pensive for a moment.

“We should come with something new though.”

“We could be knight and squire again.”

“That was a good one...I want to be the knight this time though.”

“Alright.”

“Also, keep thinking. We don’t have rope, so we can’t do pirate captives.”

“You fell asleep last time we did that.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not my fault that you make me so comfortable when you tie me up. Besides, who said I was going to be the captive?”

She’s having him on. Seeing him tied up still sort of makes her want to cry, all these years later, instead of making her hot. She suspects admitting that was actually what made Bella call them boring. She segues back into her point.

“I want to be able to spank you next time.”

Gendry laughs.

“You can just ask, I’ll let you do it, we don’t have to come up with a story.”

Arya opens one eye, looking at him. She remembers once having confided in him that it wasn’t even the whole “idea of being punished” that got her off, it was just that she thought being slapped on the bum felt good.

“You don’t mind?”

“Arya, I trust you. I let you put my balls in your mouth, You can slap my arse all you want.”

Which is how Gendry ends up on his hands and knees the next morning, his breeches pulled halfway down his thighs and Arya’s hand leaving red marks on his arse, again and again.

“Would you like another?”

Gendry nods, before Arya’s hand lands again.

His cock is hard and leaking, begging for a single touch.

Arya was right though, he thought, it did feel pretty good.

 Day 12

The sun shines on day 12, and Gendry wakes up with a tickle.

“Shh,” Arya tells him, “Don’t move.”

Gendry blinks, realizing he’s on his stomach and she’s running something along his arse cheeks.

“Is that that ink you got from that Essosian trader last year?”

Arya nods in assent. The man had espoused the plant based ink as being much cheaper and easier to obtain, but when she attempted to write on paper with it, it became clumpy and thick very quickly.

Then she remembered seeing men in Braavos with dark marks, words and pictures, drawn onto their skin, and it hit her what the ink was likely mostly used for.

“What are you drawing?”

She snickers, having drawn two smiling faces on each side of his arse. The sheet had slipped down past it overnight, and with the sun shining through, it made far too perfect a canvas to resist.

“Nothing really.”

Several more minutes pass with her idly doodling when he asks.

“Does it dry fast?”

“Pretty much as soon as it’s spread.”

Another moment.

“Can I try?”

She blows on his skin and rubs at it to make sure it’s all set, before handing him the bottle and rolling onto her side of the bed.

“I want to do your front though, so you can see.”

On her back, she watches as Gendry’s deft hand with the brush turns her nipples into the centers of sunbursts, and trees, vines and flowers emerge from the nest between her legs.

“You’re pretty good at this you know.”

Gendry smiles bashfully.

“Well, you have to be able to draw if you want to get someone’s design exactly as they want it, it was a skill I sort of had to develop and then never really thought about.”

She’s quiet for a long time.

“Ever think of doing it properly, on paper or a canvas?”

He snorts.

“I don’t know. There’s so much else I have to do, and I doubt the other lords who still look at me like I’m pretending would be at all impressed by some nice pictures I drew.”

Arya frowns.

“It would hardly be the most eccentric hobby I’ve heard of a highborn having...and besides, if it makes you happy, it’s worth it.”

Gendry chuckles as he recaps the bottle of ink. He scoots up, takes Arya’s face in his hands and kisses her warmly.

“Maybe you’re right,” he murmurs against her lips, “But I still think you’re my favorite canvas.”

She murmurs softly back her agreement.

“Hey, this stuff washes off in water right?”

“Yes”

“...so if we get too sweaty, we’ll just smear it all on the sheets.”

“Hmm,” Arya mutters when he kisses her jaw, “I need to wash them again anyway.”

 Day 13

Arya’s studying him from her spot on the pillow. It’s raining outside again, and the cool air filters through the cracked window into the cabin.

“Something on your mind?”

Arya flops onto her back and stares at the pattern of beams on the ceiling, for the millionth time these past two weeks.

“I want another baby,” she blurts out.

Gendry rolls on his side to look at her.

“I thought we decided to leave that up to the gods?”

Arya laughs.

“It seems we are, I ran out of the ingredients for moon tea three days ago,”

Something in Gendry’s mind clicks and he nods in recognition.

He leans in and kisses her chin.

“I’d happily raise a whole village of babes with you, but what makes you think this now?”

Arya frowns, almost to a pout.

“I just keep thinking of the twins back home, completely fine without us. They're our daughters, we love them, but they’re past the point where they depend completely on us. And I guess...I miss when they were tiny and needed me.”

“They’ll always need us,” Gendry assures her, hands on her shoulders. “But maybe this timing is a blessing. We’ve had more time together these past two weeks than I think we managed in the last six moons.”

Arya murmurs in agreement.

Gendry grins, mischievously.

“And we’ve got a whole ‘nother day left”.

His expression drags a smile back onto Arya’s face, and she reaches to pull her shift over her head.

Later, he presses his lips to the back of her neck, wrapping his arms around her middle and snuggling up against her back.

“I’m not tired, if you’re not.”

Arya laughs, shifting her leg and letting him slide into her again.

“If I had known talking about babes would get you going this much, I’d have thrown away my moon tea weeks ago.”

 Day 14

“Everything’s all packed up?”

“Yup.”

They sit together on the edge of the bed.

“Any time now.”

It feels like forever before the sailor comes and knocks to tell them the ship has been cleared and they are not free to leave.

It feels like forever, but it’s barely past breakfast.

They’re off board as fast as their feet can carry them. Arya steps off to find one of the sailors about sending their bags ahead to Storm’s End.

Gendry stops to thank the captain while Arya fidgets in the background.

The captain eyes her.

“She your wife? I’m surprised you two are even in the same room after these two weeks, the men below deck have been at each other’s throats since day one. “

Gendry smiles.

“No, I think we got on fine.”

They step out on solid land, and Arya takes his arm as they walk towards where they can borrow a pair of horses to return.

“I love you to death,” she whispers against his arm, “But I cannot wait to talk to people who aren’t you.”

He smiles, and throws an arm around her.

“Soon we’ll be home, our daughters will run to us,” he muses.

"We'll have fresh food for supper, be able to use the privy without anyone watching, have someone else to do our laundry," Arya sing-songs in response.

“Our castellan will share with us everything that has no doubt caught on fire since we left. There will be a pile of ravens as thick as my hand to dig through, people will come to us with problems every hour of every day, we’ll be expected to actually get dressed properly every morning…”

He feels her still.

“Do you think the captain will let us back onboard?”

[levis-little-nuggie]

hi! i just saw the post about requests and could you write some fluffy sex headcanons with the brothers? we don't really see stuff like that so i thought i'd ask

Bless you nonny for the request 💜💜 this uh, turned out a lot longer than I had anticipated, probably because I haven't written anything in a good while 😅

Asmo and Belphie will have their own posts 💜

Nsft, obviously, so everything is under the Read More. I made the reader as gender neutral and inclusive as I could. Please let me know if at any point, I was exclusive.

Fluffy Sex Headcanons of the Demon Brothers

(minus Asmo and Belphie)

Lucifer

This man will top or bottom solely dependent upon what you want. Sex with him is moreso about pleasing his partner than just getting off. His preferences are fine tuned to your desires and your body’s limits. Lucifer’s sin feeds off of the immense pride a lover feels when they know you and your body better than you do

He may act cold and aloof in public and in front of others, coming off as stoic and arrogant, but it’s a completely different story behind closed doors.

However you want him, he’ll comply. You’ve done the impossible and captured his heart.  Don’t let this old man and his brown shoes fool you, he’ll drown you in passion.

He’ll gladly play the Dom role, but he’ll also gladly be your sub as well.

If you’re into BDSM and prefer him to Dom, you can expect an intensive aftercare routine that would rival Asmo’s. It’s not that he doesn’t like hurting you or pushing you to your limits, he just wants to reward you for being so good for him and wants to remind you how much he loves you.

If you’re into BDSM and prefer to Dom yourself, go crazy! While you would be capable of marking and bruising his skin, you can’t physically hurt or break him beyond light scratches. He can break out of whatever restraints you put him, even if they are demon-grade. You would need actual spells to diminish his strength to put him on par with a lower-class demon if you wanted him to actually feel any real pain, but if it’s what you want, he’ll do it. Expect a conversation beforehand about what you want and how he can do that for you. He wants there to be clear communication so he knows how best to serve you in the moments to come.

Sure the sex is fantastic, but he’ll show you how much he loves you in the tender moments after. The afterglow is his favorite part, both of you basking in the remnants of pleasure coursing through you, the physical numbness, and the swell of feel-good chemicals swirling through your bodies. This is when he’ll hold you closest, pepper your skin with kisses unable to stop himself, he’ll play with your hair if you have it, his eyes will be bright, his smile will be unrestrained. He may even start humming a long-forgotten lullaby or your favorite song as he rests his head against your chest, hearing your heartbeat in blissful content until one of you decides it’s time to get cleaned up.

No matter how long the day has been, the amount of hours he’s put into all that damn paperwork, he’ll always make time to pamper you after sex. If you prefer to shower alone, he’ll let you go first and have the bed ready with new, clean sheets and clean towels set out for you when you’re done. Prefer to sleep with pajamas? He has a drawer dedicated to your favorite things along with some new ones he bought for you.

Mammon

Ah yes, the tsundere. The dumbass in the streets, dumbass in the sheets. The one who has more hair-brained ideas than he does fingers and toes in one week. One of the greatest banes of Lucifer’s existence.

His push and pull personality might have you questioning the validity of his feelings, but I believe that Mammon wouldn’t be partaking in fluffy sex at all unless he was absolutely smitten.

With how his brothers treat him, he’s reluctant to open his heart to you and fully accept that at some point, you won’t start insulting him either. However, equipped with the sin of greed, Mammon’s completely helpless when you compliment and reassure him. 

His standoffish attitude is a front, a feeble attempt to keep up his reputation as “The Great Mammon,” but he’s got himself wrapped around your finger before he even realizes it and that facade would melt away instantly at your smallest of smiles, a kiss on his cheek or back of his hand, a surprise compliment, anything that makes his heart skip a beat. 

Of the brothers, he has one of the weakest composers around you mainly because he’s also one of the horniest. 

Sex with Mammon can be rushed;  a quickie between classes, a broken composure that has him feeling dehydrated for you, a clash of tongues and teech and a burning desire that encompasses both of you until you find release.

However, the sweetest and fluffiest sex with Mammon would be when either of you are feeling emotionally vulnerable. 

He’ll treat you like you’re the greatest treasure to have ever existed in all three realms, with a delicacy as if you’re fragile because he knows he can be careless and reckless. He’ll be in his head a lot making sure he’s taking care of you, that you feel good, doing his damndest to keep you satisfied so there’s no room in your heart to doubt him. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep that sparkle in your eye when you look at him, to never lose you and never have to experience the day you realize his brothers have been right all along. 

And I mean he’ll do whatever and however. Any wish is his command, but you’ll have more work cut out for you if you suggest the both of you participating in a threesome or more. He wants you all to himself, it’s his greed, but it’s your reassurance and validation that will have him like putty in your hand. 

He’s more than okay with both of you falling asleep in your mess, but more often than not, he’ll wait until you’ve dozed off to clean up. In these moments, he takes the time to worship every inch of your skin, like polishing a priceless jewel. His intentions are pure, most of the time, he just likes to wait till you’re asleep so there’s no chance for you to tease him about it. It also allows his greed to soak up your peaceful expression, the way your body reaches out to him after he’s finished cleaning and comes back to curl up next to you. 

There’s a secret photo album hidden on his phone filled with pictures of the both of you like this, your lashes against your cheeks, your freckles or sun spots, any blemishes or scars that he’s covered in kisses countless of times, your hand in his and vice versa, memories of how sweet and tender your love is, filled with emotions he struggles to put into words. 

Leviathan

It all depends how you play your cards with this one. Teasing him is easy and it’ll get him all flustered, but pair that with his raging horniness and you’ll be walking a fine line between a Dom or sub Levi.

However, if it’s fluffy and sweet sex you want, treat him gently and he’ll return the favor. It’ll take a bit of time and effort to get here, on both your parts, but if you’re willing to put in the work, he’ll make it worth it. Like Mammon, this means sex will be its fluffiest when either both of you or one of you is emotionally vulnerable.

We’ve recently been blessed by the devs on a cannon description of his tail, confirming that it is snake-like with scales. This also means, however, that his tail is sensitive to touch and he has full control of its movements. During a more sweet intimacy, he likes to wrap his tail around a limb, your arm or your leg. It’s only when he’s in Dom or sub mode that he likes to use his tail in a more active manner.

It’s important for him, whether he realizes it or not, that during these moments, that he’s the one touching you, not his tail. If you ask him to use his tail too much during sex, he’ll start to think that you’re only with him because of his tail.

He’ll want to see you even though his room is dimly lit. He also knows his tub bed might not be the most comfortable so he’ll invest in a mattress to put on the floor by the tank, and a few fluffy blankets, from the Ruri-chan line of course, to keep you warm and comfortable so you’ll never want to leave his room, just like him.

He prefers any position that has the two of you lying together, with your face in clear view because he can’t get enough of the faces you make because of the pleasure he’s responsible for making you feel. He’ll be more focused on your voice, your body language, your reactions to reassure him he’s doing something right.

To see your naked skin kissed with the reflection of the water from the tank is his favorite part. He actually got a nosebleed the first time he saw you like that. 

Sex with the otaku is a learning experience that requires patience and repetitive reassurance. He’s certain that no one could ever love him, and it’s going to cost a lot of mental energy, and it can be disheartening at times where it seems he’s not made any progress in loving himself at all, but you’ll both also have an opportunity to create something truly beautiful between the two of you. Falling in love with your best friend, and having your feelings returned with all their heart is one of the most beautiful things to ever experience.

Satan

I like to imagine that Satan is akin to that tiger DILF in Zootopia looking at his tablet while on the train, you know, the one who looks like he’ll take good care of you? Listen, during one of his Devilgram stories, the man pitches a tent (like an actual tent, not a boner you guys) and makes both of you cups of hot chocolate. You can pry this hc out of my cold, dead hands.

Sex with Satan is actually more often fluffy and sweet than anyone would assume because he’s the Avatar of Wrath. Just like all the other brothers, Satan is more than his sin. That being said, Satan is still CEO of Angry Sex™ but he’s also more intune to his own feelings than the rest of his brothers. 

It’s after his more violent fits of rage that he’s seeking your comfort. It’s difficult for him to come down from his wrath; the worse the fit is, the more broken and twisted he feels. He didn’t like coming to you at first because he knows how mentally draining it can be for a human to deal with someone like that, but you’ve insisted in your endearing and stubborn way that he can and needs to rely on you more. You threatened to find all the sources proving your point for the success of any relationship and he eventually gave in, accepting your kindness and your love.

In turn, he provides you with an arsenal of reading material and spells you can arm yourself with for a plethora of reasons; mainly self-defense against demons, a history of successful and failed attempts to prank Lucifer, as well as guides for subjects in class to help you study.

Unlike his previous brothers, sex with Satan is more about the pleasure you both feel. Of course he’ll still be mindful of your pleasure, but he can also get lost in his own desire. No matter how far gone he is, you know that the moment you utter the safeword, he’ll stop immediately and assess the situation. The safeword is actually a simple spell that he’d found when you two started getting more intimate.

On days he’s feeling extra playful, he’ll dress up for you; a collar with a bell, cat ears, a butt plug with a tail attached. He loves to be your little kitty cat, and will practically foam at the mouth if you ever dressed up like a slutty cat for him, but this doesn’t lead to fluffy smut times.

While he has no issues with PDA, Satan reserves his more soft and fluffy side for when you two are totally alone. He’s proactive in looking up cute date ideas and is the type to go all out turning his bed or his floor into a nest of pillows and blankets, cups of tea, hot chocolate, coffee, whatever you prefer, a variety of little snacks, and turn his wall into a projection screen to watch old-fashioned black and white romance movies. 

For Satan, it’s the moments leading up to the sweet intimacy filled with love and adoration that are his favorites. Being the reason your face brightens, tears of happiness well in the corner of your eyes, the way your smile makes his heart stutters, Satan loves showing you how much you mean to him mainly because he knows he’s not the best with words. He could recite any poem of strings of song lyrics, but he believes actions speak louder than words.

He actually prefers for you to have control in these moments; there’s less of a chance he could hurt you and it’s another way to prove his love. He’ll only ever bottom for you. He was reluctant at first, but it’s like you opened his eyes to a whole new world he didn’t know about. He still likes to act like he's a cat and you're his mouse, but he also likes it when you take over and make him bow to your whim. You've gained his trust as well as his heart and he believes that the power dynamic in a relationship should be balanced.

During the most intimate moments, either right after sex or waking up together in the morning after sleeping in, you'll both enter this Cat Speak mode. One of you will start, just a cute little "mrow?" and you'll go back and forth entertaining a semblance of a conversation but without saying anything. There's no actual conversation happening, it's just the two of you making cat noises at each other, giggling and riding the high of this special intimacy specially reserved for these moments of bliss.

Beel

Let’s be honest, 9 times out of 10 your sex with the sixth-born will be fluffy and sweet. He’s like the personified version of a golden retriever. He loves you and has the instinct to want to take care of you. You’re such a small, delicate human, and his brothers love you too so when you’re in Beel’s care, he makes sure you’re satisfied more than just sexually. 

Anything you’re willing to give him, he’ll accept wholeheartedly expressing his love and gratitude in the form of huge grins, hugs, a hearty chuckle, and peppering kisses across your face. 

Even though he’s not as sexually active as some of his brothers, once you get this big guy started, be prepared to cancel any plans you have for the rest of the day… and also the day after just to be safe. He has the most energy and will keep going until he’s had you against every solid surface in his room, minus Belphie’s furniture of course. Regardless of your size or how you look, he’ll make you feel weightless as he carries you around the room effortlessly

He loves the way you taste, gliding his tongue over your skin like you’re an ice-cream cone that never melts, he’s actually growled a number of times when you tried pulling yourself away from him. His eyes had turned shades darker than normal before you snapped him out of it. He would apologize profusely and kill the mood so as to make sure he’s in the right headspace and you’re okay. 

This has only happened a few times, but he still loves to taste every inch of you whenever he has you all to himself. He leaves you covered in hickeys and love bites and even though he’ll apologize, you know he feels absolutely no shame in his brother’s reactions to seeing you covered the next day. 

His favorite part is helping you ride out your orgasm with his mouth. He knows he’s more skilled with his mouth anyway and just, the man cannot get enough of you or your taste. Depending on where he’s at when you orgasm, if he’s close, he’ll paint your skin in his release, and then clean up the mess and drag you in for snuggles. If he’s not quite there yet, he’ll assess your energy levels and wait until you’re ready to go again or keep going, depending on who topped or bottomed. He’s all about consent and wants to join you when you’re fully blissed out regardless if he’s finished or not (meaning he’ll deny his own release in order to lie with you).

Aftercare comes almost second nature to him. He’s already carrying you to the bathroom and soaking you off in the shower before you realize it. The warm water and his large hands invade your senses and he urges you to let go, to let him take care of you and it’s like a dream. His calloused hands offer a sort of comforting roughness that keeps you grounded. If you want shower sex, you’ll have to initiate it.

Actually, that’s pretty accurate for Beel. You want sex? You’re either going to have to initiate it or tell him straight out. Poor guy does not take hints well as he is very oblivious.

[sugar-petals]

can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;

i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.

myg at home headcanon

🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points

The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.

He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.

Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.

Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.

Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.

Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.

What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.

He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.

Self-made paintings everywhere around his house. 

Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.

Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like. 

Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.

There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.

His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.

Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.

Owns lord knows how many comic collections.

Favorite holiday destination: New York.

Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.

Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.

Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.

No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.

Chronically addicted to making out.

Matching black outfits and glasses.

Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.

Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.

It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.

He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine. 

If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.

If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.

If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.

He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.

But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.

He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.

If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.

In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.

Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.

Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.

Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.

He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.

Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship. 

This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.

Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.

Yoongi shaves his legs.

All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.

He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.

Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.

Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like. 

Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.

Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.

Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.

Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.

He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.

Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.

He collects pajamas and earrings.

Swears on the phone.

Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.

Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that. 

He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.

Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same. 

Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.

Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.

Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.

Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.

Scrubs the bathroom religiously.

The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.

Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.

Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket. 

Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.

He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.

Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.

Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.

Couple sunrise watching. 

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[nano--raptor]

Friends who laugh together

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Biker & Bartender AU)

Words: 2340

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Smut, sex, oral sex, drug use, alcohol, cursing

A/N: This one was fun. Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ ongoing drunk drabbles with this anon prompt:

Bucky and reader smoking weed and having high giggly sex

I hope you like it anon! Thanks everyone for reading, and don’t take things too seriously!😘

Do not click ‘keep reading’ if you are under 18. Thank you.

You met Bucky at his place, 2:30 am, after he got off work at the bar. Walking into his garage, you made yourself at home, grabbing a beer from the mini fridge and plopping down onto the old couch. A few empty cans, a wrench, an ashtray and some darts sat on the table beside you. After cracking your beer and taking a sip, letting it linger on your tongue for a moment, you  picked up one of the darts, twirling it in your fingers. The dartboard hung on the wall across from you, and you threw it, amused but not surprised when it missed its mark, piercing the drywall below the board.

"Oops," you giggled to yourself, taking another sip. A familiar rumbling soon started to grow louder, piercing the quiet of night. Then the garage door roared to life and slowly opened, as Bucky pulled into the driveway on his motorcycle. He smirked upon noticing you, already there waiting for him, and slowly rolled into the garage. He killed the engine and sat back, the door rolling closed behind him.

"Make yourself at home," he chided with a wink, kicking down the stand and swinging his leg over. He grabbed his own beer, pausing to examine the dart in the wall, then giving you a stern stare. You shrugged your shoulders, sipping your beer and feigning innocence. Bucky shook his head, sitting down beside you and sinking into the couch.

"Long night?" He nodded, taking a pull from the can and leaning his head back.

"Busy. But good tips tonight." He grinned, that lazy sideways grin that always made your stomach flip flop when he flashed it at you. He might be your best friend, but that didn’t mean you didn’t think he was sexy as hell.

"Well with you behind the bar, I can imagine." You bumped his shoulder playfully, sipping again and then picking up the wrench to wave playfully in front of his face. "You never put this away. You're gonna lose it." Bucky snatched the wrench from you, waving it back.

"I always know where this one is. And right now, it's right here." He leaned over you then, stretching across your lap to put it back on the side table, and you breathed him in, always loving when his scent surrounded you. "Here, where it belongs." Then he laughed, sitting back and smirking at you again before taking another long sip of his beer. You couldn't help but steal a glance at his throat, watching it move as he swallowed and having another sip of your own. Whew.

The two of you chatted about your day, you told him about your day at work and he told you about his. When Bucky got up to grab another beer, he stopped by his workbench, grabbing a small container from the shelf. He sat down again and pulled out supplies to roll a joint, and you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his fingers as you watched him. He licked the paper to seal it shut, catching your eye and smirking, and you felt heat rush to your face. He always caught you staring. He sat back and lit the joint, puffing on it, then taking a long pull and slowly exhaling, as if he was breathing out the stress and tension he carried from the day.

He offered it to you, and you accepted, holding his gaze as you raised it to your lips. Smoking took the edge off, you’d often meet Bucky after a shift to just chill and unwind from your day. Sometimes you’d chat, sometimes you’d just listen to music. Feeling the stress melt away was therapeutic.

The smoke swirled in the air as you passed the joint back and forth, until it was gone and you were feeling that familiar, comfortable high. Bucky finished off his beer and set the can down, then looked at you pointedly before slowly leaning in to kiss you. It was easy to fall into it, your hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, the taste of beer on his tongue. His hand was on your thigh and when the kiss broke, you couldn’t help the wave of giggles that started. 

“Buck what are you doing!” Bucky sat back, grinning as if it was obvious.

“Kissing you.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I wanted to,” he said simply with a shrug.

“Is that all you want to do?” Bucky grinned, shaking his head and you couldn’t hold back your giggles. “You look fuckin’ adorable right now.”

“Adorable? That’s you darlin’. I’m not adorable, I'm… manly… and handsome.”

“Yeah okay Mr Manly Handsome,” you said with a playful roll of your eyes. “But I still think you’re adorable and you can’t change my mind.” Bucky’s eyes flashed then as she stood, suddenly picking you up, and you squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder.

“What are you doing!?”

“I wanna show you something.”

“Is it… your bed?” You laughed out loud at your own joke, clutching onto his shoulder and back as best you could.

“Maybe…” Bucky couldn’t hide the grin in his own voice as he carried you inside, definitely heading towards his room. Then he dropped you on the bed and you laughed again as you bounced, pillows bouncing off onto the floor.

“The pillows!” You reached over to swipe at one, trying to reach it, and squealed when you felt Bucky’s lips press against your skin, exposed from your shirt riding up. Then he was pushing it up further, crawling over your body, and your shirt was stuck awkwardly under your armpits, sliding up further to cover your face and you fell over on the bed, clutching Bucky’s arms.

“Buck I can’t see! Oh my god.” You couldn’t stop your giggles now as his lips brushed over your stomach, it tickled, and then he was shoving his head underneath your shirt. It had popped over yours as well and now you were staring at him as you both hid under your shirt.

“It’s a fort,” he grinned, before tracing his tongue over your breast along the edge of your bra.

“This is the worst fort ever!” You wrestled your shirt off all the way, then started tugging at his, not having much luck as he held you down to keep kissing and licking your skin. “Bucky! Take your clothes off!” You tried to roll him off of you, starting to call out about fairness as you were shedding clothes, but he hadn’t yet.

“Fine okay! Here,” he sat up on his knees and stripped his shirt off, his jeans hanging low on his hips, and he was a sight. “Happy now?” You nodded, biting your lip and trailing your eyes down his torso. Damn this boy and his beautiful body. You hummed, then voiced only half of your thought out loud.

“Ohhh, body…” Bucky raised an eyebrow, and you laughed again. “I mean, I like it! Damn, look at you!” You pushed him down on the bed then and straddled his hips, leaning down to kiss him, fumbling with the button on his jeans.. When you discovered that you wouldn’t be able to push them off, you moved your focus to your own, trying to be sexy for him while taking them off, but failing at that as well.

“Need a hand?” Bucky asked, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“No…” you pouted, finally freeing yourself from the confines of jeans. “But now it’s your turn.” Bucky obliged, stripping his pants off, and you practically drooled at the sight of him, hard and tight in his boxers. “Yeah Bucky,” you breathed, and then you were straddling him again, cupping his face and kissing him hard, rocking your hips against him and suddenly you were overcome with need. You didn’t even realize you were whimpering until his fingers were pushing your panties down, and he rolled you over, pulling them off and tossing them over his shoulder.

You were floating, eyes locked on his, and you could hear your heartbeat rushing in your ears. Bucky held your gaze, smirking, as he lowered himself between your legs and licked a stripe over your pussy, moaning at the taste of you.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet already.” You just whined again and wiggled your hips, trying to get more attention from him. 

“Less talking,” you teased, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair. He dipped down again, curling his tongue against you, into you, over your clit, back and forth, and your grip tightened in his hair and he brought you closer to the edge. You started panting his name, wiggling underneath him, and he held you down with firm hands. You couldn’t help bucking your hips, arching your back and crying out as your orgasm quickly washed over you, warmth and tingles spreading through your entire body.

Collapsing back to the bed, you lay panting, and Bucky’s hand smoothed over your stomach while he pressed kisses and kitten licks to your throbbing heat. Then he turned his head, kissed the inside of your thigh… and blew a raspberry on your skin.

You shrieked, curling into a ball and nearly kneeing him in the chin in the process. Your shriek turned into laughter as he crawled over you, blowing raspberries over every part of your skin he could reach.

“Bucky! Bucky stop oh my god! What the fuck!” He laughed with you, crawling up to kiss your lips, and down your jaw to your neck, but now you were squirmy and ticklish and you tried to get away from him.

“Nuh uh, you come here beautiful,” he drawled, licking back up your throat to kiss your jaw and then your lips. You were finally able to catch your breath and you gazed up at him, his hooded eyes dark and sparkling as he leaned in to kiss you again. Then you grabbed his jaw and turned his head, licking a hot stripe over his cheek instead.

“Got you!!” His eyes flashed again and he grabbed your wrists, easily pinning them down with one hand. He held himself up with the other, then ground his hips down against yours. You couldn’t help but moan at the feel of him, the need for him flaring up in your belly again.

“Do you want it baby?” he teased. It was obvious that you did, but you stuck your tongue out, asking him the same question instead, though a little more breathlessly than you would have liked.

“Do you want it?”

“Yeah, yeah I do. You’re so gorgeous.” Then he was kissing you more tenderly, pushing his boxers down and lining himself up. He pushed into you with a groan and your head fell back, breathy moans falling from your own lips as he moved against you.

“Bucky… Bucky, oh my god.”

“Yeah baby, fuck you feel good.

“Yeah you do too. This is amazing…” Your voice trailed off as he slid into you, then slowly pulled out again, sending heat tingling through your body when he sank back in. You had to grab onto him, wrapping your arms around him, wrapping your legs around his waist, you felt like you were floating, like you were heading towards pure bliss and you never wanted it to stop.

Bucky picked up his pace, grunting softly into the crook of your neck and you were completely losing yourself in him, until you started mumbling.

“Fuck, bucky… fuck, oh god, oh god… fucky, fuck… I…” Bucky’s pace faltered and he snorted against your skin, and then you froze. Your brain felt sluggish in the best way, high from the weed and from Bucky surrounding you, all over you, until you realized what you’d said and burst out laughing.

“Buck!” you snorted, unable to control your laughter. “Your name rhymes with… with fuck!” He twitched inside you and you squealed again, still giggling as you held him tightly.

“You’re ridiculous,” Bucky said with a laugh, kissing your nose. “And fuckin’ adorable.” When your laughter died down some, you gazed up at him, his eyes crinkled with his grin, dark, filled with warmth and desire, hair falling around his face. He was beautiful.

“And you’re fuckin’ handsome, baby. Mister Handsome. As. Fuck.” You pulled his mouth down to yours and kissed him with a smile, feeling his own smile against yours, and you clenched around him, your grin turning devilish as he growled in response.

“Ohhhh darlin’. Now that feels fuckin’ amazing.” His head fell back and his eyes were closed as he started moving against you again, then he leaned forward until his lips found your skin, and he was kissing and nipping at your collarbones, your shoulders, your neck, thrusting harder, pushing deeper, as the pressure started to build.

“Yes, Bucky please, oh god yes!” Your cries rang out, nails digging into Bucky’s skin as he chased the end, and he angled his hips just enough that you started to see stars, that wave breaking and crashing wildly over you again. As you fluttered around him, squeezing his cock impossibly tight, Bucky roared, fucking you through it until he was spilling inside you. You could feel every ripple of muscle beneath your hands, every flex against your skin, every pulse of him inside of you, and it was so fucking good that you almost whited out.

When he collapsed against you, panting, a sheen of sweat covering his body, you whimpered, wiggling against him, feeling completely blissed out, but also sensitive and tingly all over. Bucky rolled to his side, pulling you against him and nuzzling into your neck again.

“Baby you’re so good. You make me feel amazing…” He kissed your neck and pulled a blanket over the two of you, and you snuggled against him, trying to curl into him and much as you could.

“Mmm, thanks Bucky. My fucky Bucky, Mr manly, handsome and adorable.” Bucky snorted against your skin again, and the giggles overtook you both once again.

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[theycallmebecca]

18+ Drabble: Naughty Fun at the Pumpkin Patch

This is for day for of the HBC Kinky Halloween for @the-ce-horniest-book-club​ and I was originally just going to do a mood board with an imagine to go with... but then I found myself wanting to actually write the imagine in a short drabble. So here you go.

I didn’t expect this one to get as smutty as it did... but it’s been awhile since I’ve written anything smutty and I forgot how much I love it but also how hard it is.

Title: Naughty Fun at the Pumpkin Patch

Pairing: modern AU!Ari Levinson x female reader

Rating: R

Warnings: semi-graphic sex, language

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

18+ Disclaimer: This work contains sexual material that is for those over the age of 18. By clicking the keep reading link below, you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and are not offended by sexual content.

When Ari had suggested attending a local pumpkin patch’s grown up night that had food carts from several local restaurants and breweries, you had been game. You’d loved going to the pumpkin patch as a kid and being able to relive it as an adult sounded fun.

The two of you arrived about an hour before sunset to do the normal pumpkin patch things--pick out pumpkins, go on a hayride and explore the corn maze--since most of the grown up stuff wasn’t happening until after dark.

Once your pumpkins were in the car and a blanket retrieved, the two of you bought dinner and drinks then found a table, preparing to listen to the band that was setting up on stage.

Before the band started, the owner of the pumpkin patch came on stages to welcome everyone to the event. The focus of night’s activities would be mostly in the barn yard where everyone was, but there would still be hayrides if people wanted to go on them.

"We should go again,” Ari said, softly.

“Sure,” you replied.

After the owner left the stage, the first band started to play and you and Ari went back to eating your dinner.

Once your meals and first drinks were finished, Ari ushered you to the hayrides line. There were a few other couples waiting, but not many.

Since you and Ari had ridden it earlier, you knew that there would be plenty of space for all of you to spread out in the back of the horse drawn wagon.

Except, it turned out, that the other couples were all together in a group and wanted to sit close together, leaving you and Ari virtually all alone on the other side of the wagon. 

Ever the gentleman, Ari spread the blanket over the two of you, to keep the fall chill at bay.

Or so you thought, until you felt his hands rustling with the button of your pants.

“What are you doing?” you hissed.

“Having a little fun,” he replied, leaning over and nipping at your ear. Then he whispered, “Fulfilling a fantasy of yours.”

You bit down on your tongue as his fingers successfully unbuttoned your pants and slid the zipper down.

Just a week or so before, you’d confessed to being interested in having sex in public with him. In your head, though, you’d pictured doing it while camping or some place else where the two of you were alone but could be stumbled upon. You hadn’t imagined this. Having sex or even foreplay on the back of a wagon with people sort of nearby.

“Relax,” Ari whispered. “Trust me.”

You did trust him.

To prove it to him, and maybe yourself, you reached your hand under the blanket and found the front of his jeans.

He hissed into your ear as your hand caressed his cock through the rough material.

“You should have worn a fucking skirt,” he muttered as his hand gave up trying to slip into your jeans and moved to the apex of your tights over your jeans.

“Maybe if you’d told me what you had planned, I would have,” you retorted in a hushed tone. You leaned into his touch, wishing desperately that you could feel his skin on yours.

“Damn, it’s cold,” he said, louder than necessary. “I’m not used to this cold northern climate yet. It doesn’t get like this in Florida, I don’t know how y’all stand it.”

Establishing himself as a suspected tourist gave him the ability to pull the blanket up to your neck, but the blanket wasn’t wide enough for you.

“I’d better sit in your lap,” you said. “Body heat and all that.”

Carefully, you stood and then sat down on his lap, bringing the blanket up to your neck. In the new position, Ari had to hold on your waist, but it gave you the freedom to have a little fun.

Under the guise of trying to get settled, you wiggled your ass against the front of his pants, earning yourself a muttered cuss word or two from him, but also encouraging other parts of him.

“Spread your legs and hold on to the blanket,” Ari softly ordered.

You waited a second too long to grab the blanket and nearly lost it as Ari shoved his hand into your panties and found your clit. You had to bite down on your lower lip to keep from crying out as you felt his other hand slide under your bra and cup one of your breasts.

“Grind against me,” he instructed.

By the time the horses got back to the starting spot, you and Ari were both more than ready to get off and not just off the wagon.

“Let’s find some place,” Ari said after the two of you had gotten down. “I can’t wait until we get home.”

“Me either,” you replied as you held onto the blanket with one hand and held your pants up with the other.

“The corn maze,” he ultimately decided, after surveying the grounds. “No one going into the maze in the dark is going to actually do that maze.”

Which is how you found yourself on the blanket a couple minutes later, your jeans and panties hanging off one leg as he fucked you.

“Lift your shirt up,” he ordered. “Fuck, I need to see your tits.”

“Suck them,” you ordered back as soon as you freed them. “Please.”

Leaning forward, he captured one nipple in his mouth and sucked, sending pleasure signals directly to the bundle of nerves between your legs.

Maybe it was the foreplay on the hayride. Or maybe it was the thrill of having sex someplace that the two of you could be stumbled upon, but whatever it was, it didn’t take much before you came and Ari’s own release followed you.

It was only as you laid there panting with Ari’s face resting on your breast that you heard similar noises coming from elsewhere amongst the corn stalks.

[schmucksbucks]

What did you just call me?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Daddy kink, friends to lovers (implied), smut implied

Based off the prompt by anonymous:

Word Count: 686

Notes: This was written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ I had two versions in mind and I thought this was the sweetest (in my opinion), let me know what you think!

Movie nights were always particularly fun with Bucky. He did everything he could to make sure you were comfortable; lots of pillows, snacks, blankets in case you got cold. Tonight you had opted for some Disney movies, secretly because it took your mind off stressful things.

Bucky had been busy installing some mood lighting, the LED rope lights behind the TV that was mounted onto the wall opposite his bed and some warm light string lights hanging behind his bed. He wasn't trying to make it too romantic since you were only friends. But he saw the lights you had in your own room and knew how cosy and comfortable they made the atmosphere. The lights also provided some comfort during the nights he was alone.

You were an hour into your movie night with Bucky when he started to become a little playful. It started with Bucky blowing some cool air with his mouth near your ear. And then his fingers started to graze your ribs. You squirmed each time his fingers brushed against your ticklish ribs. A playful smirk tugging on the corners of his lips as his fingers full on attacked you. 

You fell flat on your back squirming and squealing as Bucky hovered above you. Tears pooling from the corners of your eyes and rolling down your temples into your hairline. No matter what you did, you couldn’t pry his fingers off you. 

“Sto----p! P-leaaase!” Your voice cracked from laughing too much, Bucky joining in on the laughter as he desperately tried to pull more sweet giggles from you. Bucky would never tell you this, but he found your giggles the sweetest. They were just so girly. “Buck! Daddy please!” 

Bucky’s fingers froze and your own eyes widened by what you had just said. You didn’t mean to say it - of course, you’ll never deny that you have thought about him in that way, you being his good girl. You blamed his outfits, his all black outfit matched with a leather jacket and that damn fluffy beard that peppered his cheeks and chin. He was so daddy and his tickling made your mind a dizzy mess that you simply weren’t thinking straight, and now you were horrified. The tension in the air shifted. The disney movie playing on in the background matched with the heavy panting coming from both you and Bucky. 

“What- What did you just call me?” His voice dropped a few octaves and you felt the fingers that were previously tickling the shit of you, were now rubbing circles on your waist.  

“I said...Bucky.” A blush crept up from your neck to your cheeks and the room became unusually hotter than usual. 

Or maybe it was because Bucky was the owner of the room.

“Doll, tell me what you called me.” Bucky said a second time, his finger hooking under your chin to force your gaze up to look at him. His usual blue eyes were darkened with lust. Clearly your spontaneous word had a clear effect on him because something hard was digging into your thigh. “I need to hear it.” You licked your lips, your chest heaving as the mattress dipped by your head. 

“Daddy.” You repeated, your heart feeling like it was going to beat itself out of your chest. A low growl came from Bucky. He shifted his weight above you so he could lay between your thighs that opened on their own accord. 

“Tell daddy what you want.” Bucky’s lips grazed your earlobe and down your neck. If his feelings were correct, you wanted this just as much as he did. It never occurred to you that he never asked any other woman into his room to watch a movie, he just loved spending time with you and the feeling was very much mutual. The more time you spent together, the more you fell for him. But this was definitely a turn of events. 

Neither of you were complaining though. 

“You. I’ve wanted you for a while.” You admitted, another blush heating up your cheeks. 

“Me too doll. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

[twilightofthe]

so what animes have you seen already?

Oh boy! Not many tbh, I only really started watching it last winter when my roommate asked if I wanted to give it a try! I haven’t watched anything from any studio that did Visions (yet), but I wanna soon!

Animes I HAVE seen, in order:

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood — Aight so when roomie suggested we watch an anime, a friend who had seen a lot of them recommended this one to watch first as it was a good “starter anime”, and y’all idk if it’s just because it’s the first one I watched but I’ve still gotta call it my favorite one because y’all it’s SO FUCKING GOOD. Like that’s understatement of the century but I don’t have time to write an essay on why it’s so good lol just trust me it’s GOOD. 11/10s on EVERYTHING about it. Plot, characters, setting, everything. My one sadness is that I would not be good at writing fic for it lol.

Demon Slayer — YouTube AMVs and seeing it pop up on Netflix had us start this one next and y’all it’s probably the prettiest anime I’ve seen like ever, like the art style is chef’s kiss. Amazing story and AWESOME characters too, very good, 10/10 would recommend. I think I could write a decent fic for it if a plot ever came to me.

The Great Pretender — The only non-action/fight anime on the list, roomie and I tried it out because we figured we should see something different? It was on Netflix so we looked. It was good, clever writing, good characters got a little bit weird in the second season, particularly at the end, but overall it’s a decent watch. I could write fic for the shipping aspect but again, no plot ideas because the plot is fuckin weird.

Akame Ga Kill — Roommate had seen this before, recommended it to me. The characters were decent, setting was interesting! Pretty art style too, but I was like, verrrrry critical of the plot throughout the entire singular season lol, so take that as you will. Actually no yeah plot was kinda wack. My fave character deserved better tho.

Castlevania — Okay okay I know I know not an anime, but it’s a similar artstyle. (Also I think the game it’s based off of is a Japanese game?) Actually watched the first two seasons a while ago, but then watched the third and fourth with roommate. Y’all it’s REALLY good, literally everyone in the damn show is fucking hot and I’m jealous, I ship the throuple HARD hard. I think I could maybe write a decent fic for it if, again, I had any plot motivation lol

Trese — Again, cheating because not anime, but this one is still non-Western (Filipino) media and it’s glorious. I’ve never seen an episode of Supernatural but I feel that this show is like, what Supernatural wishes it could be. Another gorgeous artstyle and I’m so gay for the MC and the first season left me with so many questions so I really hope it gets another one! I gotta get around to reading the webcomic

D.Gray-Man — Okay this one is entirely the fault of @jasontoddiefor who got back into it and promptly dragged everyone he knew down with him, and I am so very glad he did because this is a fantastic— and I’d argue relatively underrated —series. Artstyle is gorgeous (certain characters be very hot), the character arcs are brilliant, I love all the characters, and the worldbuilding is so friggin creative, like I’d put it up there as another one of my faves. I actually did write a fic for this, but publishing a fic in an unfamiliar fandom is terrifying and bad for my anxiety and it’s gonna take me like five more years to work up the courage to do it again lol.

Sword Art Online — Currently watching right now with roommate. I heard some not very good things about it, but my roommate wanted to give it a try so I sat down and watched with them. Sure enough it’s been a case of half the time I’m flailing over the nice animation and how creative the worldbuilding is and the charm and potential all the characters have……………….. and then the other half of the time I’m banging my head against the wall repeatedly because it pulled some seriously stinky bullshit lol. So yeah watch it’s promising but also Suffer in not the good way.

Fire Force — Also currently watching! On my own this time, roommate already watched and recommended. This one is VERY good, like I am super into the plot and the setting and everything to do with the universe. Still getting into the characters and it’s taking a bit more time? So the watch is going slower than usual, but that’s alright! The entire premise makes up for it.

So that’s all the anime I’ve seen! I’ve also seen 2.5 Studio Ghibli movies and they are all JUST as good as people say they are (Kiki’s Delivery Service, Howl’s Moving Castle, and bits and pieces of Princess Mononoke) 1000/10 recommend.

You didn’t ask about the manga I’ve read but I’ll list them anyway! For the record I’m not a huge manga reader because my eyes find it hard to see the illustrations when everything is in different shades of black and white, it makes action scenes in particular really difficult to read, which is a problem when you usually like action plots

Demon Slayer — The anime isn’t complete yet and after the movie I wanted to know MORE so I hunted down the manga and binged it all. Y’ALL GOTTA READ IT IT’S STILL SO FUCKIN GOOD AND I’D DIE FOR SO MANY CHARACTERS I’M IN LOVE WITH SO MANY

D.Gray-Man — Same thing as Demon Slayer, the anime isn’t complete yet and neither is the manga BUT so I read the rest of what’s been written. Hoo hoo HOO I hope they animate more of it because the plots coming up are brilliant and I want it

My Hero Academia — Look, EVERYONE is yelling about this one and it trends like once a week and like five irl friends love it so I figured there was too much anime out but I had to know so I’d just skim the manga just to figure out what the fuck the hype was. It’s good, lol, I totally get the hype now, the strength is in the worldbuilding and a whole handful of extremely interesting yet surprisingly simple character types that work to drive the plot forward. There is so much potential here and I could definitely write fic for this but I am not touching that fandom with a ten foot pole and that’s coming from a Star Wars fan 😂

Yona of the Dawn — Currently reading this!!!! Ok so there’s a season of an anime out for this, I walked in to see my other roommate watching what was probably one of the horniest scenes in it. I was immediately like “👀👀👀👀 shit fuck that’s hot do these heteros have rights????” I was about to plop my ass down and start watching but roommate was like “oh there’s only one season and it’s unfinished and I know you don’t like unfinished stuff” so I promptly got my ass up and googled the manga so I could see more. Y’all it is GOOD, if you love the dramatic romances from Star Wars this is RIGHT up your alley and dare I say better, the plot is lovely, the characters are great, and I am SO MAD there’s only one anime season. I’d absolutely write fic for this if I was more confident, I have so many polyship ideas!!!!!!

[beckzorz]

down (one-shot)

Pairing, Words: Bucky Barnes/Reader, 1.1k Prompt/Warnings: “I might not go down in history, but I will go down on you.” Or, you tend to Bucky after a gruesome mission. ANGST, gore, swearing, references to sex. A/N: Written from a prompt for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​’s quarantined drunk drabbles. Thanks so much to @jewels2876​ for helping <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, just pretend the header image isn’t OBVIOUSLY A STOCK IMAGE, it’s the best I could do lol)

Bucky grits his teeth as the plastic stitch slides through the needle-hole on his abdomen. The needle pierces his skin again, and he looks so far up his eyeballs hurt. It doesn’t make a lick of difference for the real pain, but at least he can count stars.

“How’s the view?” you murmur.

Another prick of the needle, another slick slow slide of plastic through his skin.

“Not much light pollution out here.” He lets out a slow breath, air whistling through his clenched teeth.

“Well, compared to New York.”

Your voice is gentle, teasing; Bucky closes his eyes and latches onto it, onto you. Your careful breathing, the way your breath fans his skin, how your heartbeat is solid and constant and just a hint quicker than normal. The pain of the needle and thread doesn’t go away—being super means super sensitive too, sometimes—but he can bear it.

He peeks down at the last bit of intestine still visible, then closes his eyes.

With you, he can bear anything.

—

The second Bucky’s head hits the pillow, he’s asleep.

It’s like this every time he suffers a big hit. His body wants to heal, not deal with the boring normal functioning stuff like thinking straight or walking. It was all you could do to keep him coherent, let alone awake, for the two-hour hike back to the safehouse.

Now, at least, his body can do its thing.

You sigh and wipe your hands together. Procedure dictates writing the report immediately, and you know just how little Fury cares about the blood caked under your fingernails.

Looking away from Bucky, lying with his lips parted and the skin across his stomach raw and his bruised face turned towards you, is harder than dirtying a keyboard.

But you do it. You do both.

You look away, and you dirty a keyboard with Bucky’s blood.

—

Steam curls in the air and water streams down your back, down your chest, off your fingertips. The shower is the best place to be after writing a report like that, one where you have to write just how many stitches and just how many staples and just how many feet of intestine.

Grenades don’t usually make such a mess. Usually, Bucky can catch them, toss them aside, use the metal of his prosthetic to shield himself.

Today wasn’t about shielding himself. Like the apocryphal tale of little, lawbreaking Steve Rogers flinging himself to protect his training squad all those years ago, today was a crowd of civilians, a horrible possibility, a split-second choice.

Bucky made the right choice. He always does.

Right for his sense of self, right for saving the civilians, right for every reason.

You shut your eyes against the humid heat of the shower and let yourself shudder.

It’s right for everything, for everyone, except you.

The shudders don’t stop. You collapse against the tile wall and scramble for a hold, silent sobs wracking your body as you slide down. Your throat burns.

Bucky—he—he’d been torn open, torn apart, all splayed out like a child’s splattered painting, blood painting the dirt and your hands and your heart. His intestines had slithered in your hands, pulsing with horrible irony as the man who’d thrown it lay dead at your hands barely a stone’s throw away.

And you couldn’t do a damn thing but fix it, fix him, staple him together and stitch him back up, because that’s your job, and you can’t have feelings—you shouldn’t have feelings! You’re not here to have feelings. You shouldn’t have anything but working fingers and supplies and the ability to use them.

You curl against the tub wall and let hot salty tears mix with hot clear water, soapy water swirling around your ankles.

Shouldn’t.

But you do. God, you do. Whether you want it or not, and you don’t know if you wish all those nebulous thoughts and wants would vanish or never leave. Would you turn into a robot, if you could?

Another pointless question. You’re human, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

You suck in a shaky breath, then another. Count to four breathing in, count to eight blowing out. You focus on your fingers and toes, draw your focus in and up until the shudders and tears stop. You settle back into yourself, one breath at a time.

There’s only one good thing about Bucky’s healing sleeps.

Without him, you can live your trauma in peace.

—

Rapid beeps, low and regular and just over his head, pull Bucky out of the dark.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you say. The bed dips under your weight.

He hums in the back of his throat, his tension melting away. You always know the moment he’s awake. Always have.

“Time?” he rasps.

“Six hours, seven minutes.”

Bucky sighs. He pokes at the edges of the places that hurt. Progress, but still a ways to go. His stomach is still stitching himself together; his insides are still shifting back into place. 

“Report?” he asks.

“Sent off, but you can add to it when you’re ready. The usual.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” you say drily.

Bucky cracks an eye open and admires your profile. “That, and to keep me in one piece.”

“Or to put you back into one piece,” you mutter.

You turn away and take a swig from a bottle he can’t see—he can’t smell any alcohol, but there’s something off about you. Something ruffled. Something disturbed.

“That too,” he says slowly.

He pushes himself up, grunting, and you suck in a quick breath. You’re at his side in a moment, a hand on his back and another holding his hand. It’s your job, yes, but he takes comfort in your hands on him. In you near him at all.

“Keeping my ragged ass going,” he adds.

You laugh, but it doesn’t last long. “Can’t have my favorite history project dying on me, can I?”

Bucky squeezes your hand. “You should go down in history too. Keeping me alive has gotta be at least as hard as what I do.”

“Probably.”

He doesn’t trust your smile. Doesn’t trust the calm on your face, or the solid beat of your heart. It isn’t soothing anymore.

It’s ominous.

You catch his eye—you’re as sharp as he is, and as soon as your smile looks more real he knows it’s ten times as fake. You lean in closer and trail your finger across his lips.

“I might not go down in history,” you tell him, “but I’ll go down on you.”

Despite himself, he’s interested. Diversionary tactic or not, you do know how to use those lovely lips of yours. Still…

“I don’t think my tummy could take it,” Bucky says mournfully. “Think you can stand to wait?”

“You’re a baby, Barnes.” You kiss his cheek. “Anything for my favorite patient. Now rest up.”

Five steps, and you’re gone, and Bucky’s alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence, and nothing to do except wonder.

[azurika-writes]

Helping A Roomie Out

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt: a character of your choice is your new roommate, a hot delicious snack on legs. 

Warnings: sexual tension, hot sexy roommate, graphic wet dream description, mentions of a shower head masturbation (female), implied smut

Words: 1,042 (okay, let me quickly research the meaning of drabble lol sorry)

Authors Notes: this is a drabble written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ and I’m very happy to be apart of them. Enjoy this fun little drabble :)

His tongue swirled around your nipple until it hardened, gently tugging on the sensitive pebble. You pushed at his head to move him further where you needed him the most. He complied, sucking, nipping and licking delicate areas on your body. You moaned his name, the only word you were capable of speaking right now, and the only word he wanted to hear. He dipped his hand inside your panties to gather your juices and spread them generously over your tingling clit. When you were wet enough, he pulled your panties down seconds later with his teeth, discarding them somewhere in the room. Biting, kissing and sucking his way up your legs and on the inside of your thighs. You pulled his man bun loose, his locks falling in front of his face, tickling your skin. His face dipped where you were aching for him, his long, thick tongue slithered through your folds, your back arched off the bed and then -

You groaned into your pillow, lazily reaching over blindly to shut the damn alarm clock off. You sighed and rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes. You sat up, your back flushed against your headboard and you thought about your dream.

It was all your new roommate’s fault. Bucky moved in just a couple of weeks ago and ever since then, you’ve had the most lustful dreams. It of course didn’t help that your new roommate walked around the apartment in tight clothing that you were absolutely sure were a few sizes too small, his abs were always on show, his ass bulging out of the seams of his jeans and his tight sweatpants that left little to the imagination of what was hidden underneath.

Bucky did respect boundaries, if it was you walking around in your daisy denim shorts and a tank top, Bucky would avert his eyes anywhere but you. Where you on the other hand, kept stealing glances. 

“Y/N? I heard your alarm beeping and the coffee is made.” speak of the devil.

“I’ll be right out!” you sighed, shaking the thoughts from your head. Bucky had told you when he first moved in he had a girlfriend, but you’ve never met her since he hasn’t invited her over and he rarely talks about her, which kind of makes you believe he just said that to make the situation more comfortable and less awkward. You hiss when your warm feet hit the sudden cold wooden floors and waddle to the bathroom, your panties feeling like you have a lake flooding in them from your dream. 

Once you have freshened yourself up and changed into some decent clothes, you head out to the living room.

“I’m her-aaaah.” your eyes almost fall out of your sockets. Bucky is plating up some eggs in the kitchen in just his boxers. Boxers that are very very clear and see through and you can see everything. Your eyes avert all over the place, you’re not sure where to look and you’re no doctor, but you’re pretty sure a fast heart rate isn’t a good thing.

You take a moment to try and get some air into your lungs and you also take the opportunity to steal a quick glance. His abs flex each time he moves around the kitchen, his really large manhood that you can see as clear as though he wasn’t wearing anything flops around inside his boxers with that teasing happy trail dipping just under the waistband, some of his hair has fallen out of his man bun and a gritty stubble covers his face.

Oh god. I could spread him on a cracker and eat him for lunch.

“Good mornin’ doll.” His voice is deeper than a black hole. 

“Um yes, morning, yes. Good indeed morning.” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at your babbling and you blushed, clearing your throat but it did absolutely nothing. “Morning.” You corrected sheepishly and kept your eyes to the floor as you approached the kitchen table. 

Bucky pulled a chair out for you and you thanked him quietly. He clearly couldn’t have known the torture he was putting you through, because he grabbed the coffee pot from the kitchen counter and stood right next to you. His manhood almost grazing your arm and it took your absolute sheer will to keep your eyes focused on the coffee being poured into the cup. 

“You alright there doll? You look flustered.” you make the mistake of looking up to him because holy shit, everything is much clearer from this point of view. You didn’t notice the hairs on his chest before, and that happy trail was more fluffy than you thought and definitely packing it. 

“I’m fine. Thanks Buck.” you cleared your throat once again and took a sip of the freshly poured coffee. 

He flopped down on the chair next to you and decided to torture you even further and spread his thighs, his left arm resting on the back of the unoccupied chair next to him as he scooped up some scramble eggs on his fingers and suggestively sucked it off his fingers. 

Oh jesus christ.

“I need a shower.” you announced quickly, pushing the chair back too harshly that it fell backwards, but you didn’t care. You more or less sprinted to your room, unintentionally slamming the door behind you. 

You stripped your clothes off and hopped in the cold shower, bringing the shower head down between your legs to relieve some of that sexual frustration you’re currently feeling. The pressure feels nice, but you imagine its him, your roommate working his tongue down there. It isn’t enough, you need to be filled.

Giving up in the shower, you’re painfully sensitive and frustrated. It’s times like these you wished you weren’t single. You wrapped a towel securely around your body and walked back into your bedroom with the intent on using some toys instead. 

What you found however, was a very naked and hard roommate laying on your bed waiting for you. 

“Wha- what are you doing?!” you asked, holding onto your towel.

“Heard you this mornin’ moaning my name. I’ve been thinkin’ about you too y’know. What you’d be like underneath me. So, whaddya say we help each other out as roommates?”

[cottoncandyjester]

YO soooooo I just literally wrote THE MOST ramble-y ask that was so woe in me bc I’m a 23 yo virgin but I’m gonna spare the pity fest and just ask if you had a hoe phase that makes your writing so fun and confident AND I’m wondering if there’s anyone out there like me who hasn’t had a hoe phase and now feels too old to have a hoe phase ☠️☠️ like no one liked me before so why even try putting myself out there now let alone with a international pandemic ongoing — a bitch ain’t that pretty to risk dying for that’s for damn sure 😭

Also hope you’re doing well, you’ve been killing me with all the filling content lately and I appreciate you…I’m not on my oc blog rn but I really wanna interact with you on it and :(( ask what you think of my oc’s but I don’t wanna be needy or weird and my oc’s don’t feel as well rounded or fleshed out as yours …I appreciate you so much and I really hope you’re doing well..this time of year always feels so rough for me and my friends so I hope this time of year is treating you well like you deserve 💖💖

A hoe phase? Hmm nope, I’m actually pretty pure in that sense lol. For me the fantasy of sex sounds so much more appealing than the actual thing so mentally yeah I’m the horniest, most disgusting whore ever..but I never actually had a hoe phase cause people thought I was too lame to sleep with I guess? A lot of my writing is just my dark intrusive thoughts and desires being written out, yknow those things that tiny voice whispers out but you know you can’t cause it’s insane?

I think it’s never too late to have a hoe phase Just stay safe ✨ be that whore you wanna be.

Also this goes for everyone, not just you but if y’all have ocs you want to interact with mine PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO IT! let’s set up a play date! I’ll introduce my insane babies to your insane babies and they can play nice( or not depending on the characters) I’m a role player I crave learning about other people’s ocs and have my characters interact with them like ughhh it itches my brain so good!

Also I’m doing very well thank you anon for being a sweet cutie💖

Remember my darlings, you can always interact and talk with me..I don’t bite unless you want me to✨

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Touchdown

Thank you @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ and @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ for the wonderful prompt.  I’ve never written Chris Beck before but Loved The Martian, and I also thought I’d throw in a little experience of my own from when I visited NASA at Houston ;)  I’m sorry this is way way longer than I thought I was going to write, please forgive me.  I hope you enjoy anyway.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of sex, tiny tiny bit of angst in the form of missing your loved one, and also a mention of horrific cardboard ice cream.

Touchdown.  Nerves jangling.  Heart fluttering.  Biting your nails, watching the news.  You had been counting the hours since the Space X return flight brought Chris Beck back to terra firma.  

Nine months.  The training mission aboard the ISS that was supposed to prepare the team for the Ares III mission to Mars had been an unequivocal success, but it had been torture for you.  Months of loneliness.  Months of waring down batteries.  Months of Pornhub.

You didn’t want to think about what that meant for the future.  Your future.  You both knew what him working for NASA entailed; missions that could last months, even years, or the possibility of no return at all.  But it was his passion.  His dream. You taught the physics but he lived it.  Up there, with nothing between him and the cosmos but the flimsy walls of a space station and the shade of the Earth.

The black escalade that pulled up out front jolted you from your daze.  Heart racing, palms clammy, you straightened your skirt and waited for his feet to hit the sidewalk.  The fight against appearing too eager vs appearing apathetic was lost when you laid eyes on his gaunt face; months up there spent wasting away, months away from you.

You tore open the door and ran until you felt his arms around you, still strong despite the low gravity and all the more urgent because of the distance.

“God, I missed you.” He buried his face in your hair and breathed deep, lifting you up and squeezing you so tight you thought your ribs would pop, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.  You missed him too, so damn much.

“You missed my cooking.” You teased as you encouraged him to put you down.  “And a real shower, I bet.”  Chris pinched your waist and chased you indoors, both of you giggling without so much as a glance at the escalade.  

No sooner had you closed the door behind him and started on a path to the kitchen to make him something proper to eat, then he spun you around and backed you up against the counter.

“You can feed me later,” he pressed himself against you, “I need something other than food, and I’ve waited long enough.”

You sighed as he smoothed his cheek against yours, trailing his nose over the delicate skin below your ear. His long, deep inhale sent a tingle down your spine but when his lips met your skin it was electric.  A melting feeling that seeped down your spine and settled between your hips, warm and wanton, and wholly made of desire.

Chris tugged your hair free of its clips and ran his fingers through it, revelling in the feel like a man who had never felt silk, watching you like you were the first flakes of snow ever seen in a desert.

You slid your hands up his fresh-from-the-packet NASA jacket and finger the zipper.  He was too occupied with the way the skin of your clavicles felt under his lips to pay much attention to what your hands were doing until his jacket was open and you’d tugged the pristine white tee from the waistband of his chinos.  Your hands were chilly, like always, and he gasped a little as he sucked on your earlobe. He hadn’t kissed you yet but you were fine to wait, he was familiarising himself with the feel of you, your scent and afterwards, your taste.  This man made you melt, even after months apart, maybe especially because of that.

Chris slid his hands up your legs, dragging your skirt up until he reached the top of your stockings. His groan made you bite your lip.

“What else are you hiding under there?”  He grinned cheekily, fingering one of the straps of your lacy red suspenders.  “It’s my duty to launch a thorough investigation.”

Jesus you missed this man. His goofy playfulness, his sweet and loving nature, and his brilliant mind.  You also missed the feel his skin against yours, his hands roaming your body like undiscovered territory, hot lips teasing, and the feel of him between your legs, hard and heavy and holy shit what the hell was he doing right then? He tore open your blouse, exposing a red lace balconette bra, nipping the skin of your chest impishly.

Christ had spread your legs with his thigh, pressing the lean muscle against your lace-clad heat. His breath was as tattered as your blouse, uneven and rough as he dragged open-mouthed kisses over every inch of your exposed skin.  Urgency ramping up until he was licking and gorging himself on your scent, rubbing himself against you as if to wear the very essence of you.

“Baby…”  You sighed and he hushed you, nibbling on your lower lip without giving you the kiss that you wanted from him, the intimacy, the care.

Chris fumbled with his belt and zipper as his open mouth lay against yours and despite you tempting him with needy licks and kisses of your own, he remained solely focused on one thing; burying his face between your thighs as deep as possible.  His cock could wait until later.

Depositing you on the countertop, he wrenched your red lace gusset aside and plunged his tongue into you with reckless abandon, licking and sucking and smearing your juices across his cheeks and chin.  The moans and slurping noises he made was enough to push you to the edge.

Your first orgasm made your thighs quake but he wasn’t finished with you just yet.  Chris pushed and pushed you higher, further, faster until you were begging for him to stop, oversensitivity creating the sharpest pain that could still be called pleasure.  Then and only then did he give you his fingers.

“Chris, please!”  You begged, voice wavering as he built yet another climax for you.  He clearly hadn’t lost his ability to play you like an instrument during his stay on the ISS.  “I want you.”

He was always great with his hands, that’s why he was a surgeon.  Those deft fingers that built you up and laid you to waste on a pedestal of pure pleasure, and then tore you down until you wallowed on the shores of desperation, needing more.  More emotion, more pleasure, more love, more him.  He’d always give you more.

“You ready for me, huh, baby girl?”  He stood between your legs with his cock in hand, rubbing the tip through the wet heat of your gash.

No answer was needed. You reached for him and he drove himself home with a magnificent sigh.  You’d waited so long for him to come home, and now that he was home, you wanted to feel every inch of him, whichever way he needed to give it to you.

His pace was punishing and he clung to you like rocks in the treacherous waters of a storm.  Hot breath against your skin, gasping moans in your ear as he fucked you, his belt buckle smacking off the counter with each thrust.  Chris was on another mission now, not one that would take him away from you but one that would bring him home, bring him closer to you, and enfold him in your very essence.

The relief and euphoria on his face as he began to orgasm was heady, dragging you with him, both throbbing out your own beat as you came.  And in the fading but breathless afterglow, he rested his forehead against yours and pulled you closer.  His kiss was needy but not desperate as he stroked your hair and cradled you to him while he softened inside you.

“You know what I fancy right now?”  He murmured with a wistful smile.

“Nice juicy steak?” You chuckled.  That’s was what you were going to cook for his touchdown dinner.

“Close, but no cigar,” he ran his fingers through your hair as he memorised the way your flushed skin looked.

You could only imagine how horrible NASA food rations were, and drinking water that was recycled from piss and sweat, amongst other things.  You shuddered.

“Ice cream,” he smiled, still tracing your features with his gaze, “any kind of ice cream that’s not freeze dried.”

His grimace made you laugh enough to push him free of you.  “Well!” You say as if scandalised.  “Let it be my mission to make you forget all about cardboard ice cream.”

“Sounds promising.” He smirked as you grabbed a carton of strawberry cheesecake Haagen Daz from the ice box, and a spoon.  “Desert before dinner?”

You winked as you tugged him towards the bedroom, fully intent on being the dish from which he ate his touchdown desert.

[themarsupials]

100 Best Albums of 2017, pt. 4

25. Fever Ray – Plunge

Karin Dreijer is half of The Knife, but the tone for her second album as Fever Ray is vastly more immediate and inviting than her band with her brother; all restless rhythms, dense electronic beats and nervous energy, it’s not exactly dance music, but it certainly can’t sit still. Most surprising, though, is the unbridled lust in her lyrics, making this perhaps the horniest album of the year.

 24. Protomartyr – Relatives in Descent

This Detroit band’s fourth album is a masterclass in restraint and release, in using moments of peace and patience to skillfully maximize the impact when the noise kicks in. Anchored by the mighty voice of Joe Casey – who spits his lyrics with all the vitriol of Nick Cave in the 80s – it’s a thrillingly dark listen.

 23. Vagabon – Infinite Worlds

A recurring theme in music this year was the passing of the guard between indie rock generations; where big-name comebacks were often underwhelming (many notable by their absence from this list) in favour of thrilling debuts from voices often overlooked in the genre. Case in point, Laetitia Tamko, the woman behind Vagabon, an American born in Cameroon; with Infinite Worlds, she achieved the kind of debut other artists only dream of; tight, direct, unnervingly raw and honest, and downright unforgettable.

 22. Oumou Sangare – Mogoya

Oumou Sangare turns fifty next year, and has been performing since she was five; for Mogoya, though, the Malian music icon hardly rests on her laurels. She’s managed to dance a fine line in successfully creating a contemporary update on her traditional Wassoulou sound, for a thoroughly empowering and danceable record that’s at once instantly recognizable as Malian, without being bound the “world music” tag.

 21. Cable Ties – Cable Ties

There were a lot of great punk and post-punk records in 2017; few, however, hit with the power of this Melbourne band’s debut LP. Every track grabs you within seconds, and the tightness of the band’s performance keeps you hooked throughout. They’re playing Laneway next month, and if they’re not huge afterwards, there is no justice in the world.

 20. Oddisee – The Iceberg

My second-favourite hip-hop album (after the obvious), this is the best release yet from the impressively prolific rapper; his words, delivered with clarity and eloquence, don’t beat around the bush; and paired with the organic, live-band sound, this record is an absolute breath of fresh air.

 19. Jens Lekman – Life Will See You Now

Whilst Jens Lekman has never played the singer-songwriter aesthetic straight, his fourth album totally dismisses the tag, finding musical inspiration in disco and calypso. It makes for a real treat of a literary pop record, especially with his none-more-idiosyncratic lyrics, touching on everything from dinner dates to models of tumours to the Cambrian explosion.

 18. Downtown Boys – Cost of Living

A bigger budget and a bigger audience helped the Rhode Island punks broaden their sound on their second album, allowing for longer and bigger songs. Their firepower, however, hasn’t dimmed a bit; like their debut, the impact of these bilingual, saxophone-fuelled songs of rage make Downtown Boys one of the most exhilarating bands working today.

 17. Flamingosis – A Groovy Thing

A year after his last great album, Bright Moments, Flamingosis presented his greatest, most fully-realised work yet in A Groovy Thing. Like a slightly-less-whimsical Avalanches, this all-samples album unfolds as impossibly inviting, pastel-toned jazz-funk; every track establishing a warm, fuzzy groove you’ll want to inhabit for as long as possible.

 16. Naomi Keyte – Melaleuca

The best South Australian LP of 2017, Naomi Keyte’s debut LP consists of gorgeously expansive pop-folk, with songs that evoke the rolling, golden hills and windswept beaches of the Adelaide region. An album of songs to lose yourself in, and to make you ache for home.

 15. Broken Social Scene – Hug of Thunder

Wikipedia describes Broken Social Scene’s lineup as varying between six and nineteen members; for Hug of Thunder, their comeback record after seven years away, they managed to distill the potential of such an enormous sound into laser-like focus, resulting in a thrillingly joyous indie-rock success.

 14. King Krule – The Ooz

I always hate it when young people are intimidatingly talented, a point proven by the astonishing creativity of Archy Marshall, aka King Krule. At just 23, he’s created, for the second King Krule album, a sound so unique, so immersive, that it essentially inhabits its own musical universe. Seamlessly crossing ideas across blues, trip-hop, rap, dub, dirty jazz and garage punk, this is a rich, complex and challenging listen, bountiful with tricks and treasures to discover for years to come.

 13. Kendrick Lamar – DAMN.

Kendrick Lamar’s conquering of popular music culture is now so complete that he barely warrants any further justification. Let’s just say his flow and wordplay are unparalleled, and the raw sound of DAMN., after the elaborate To Pimp a Butterfly, continues to surprise.

 12. Sheer Mag – Need To Feel Your Love

Sheer Mag’s debut LP is probably the most purely lovable rock album of the year; there’s no messing about with high concept ideas, just song after song of kickarse riffs and vocals. Drawing inspiration from wildly unfashionable sources – 1970s hard rock and 1980s power pop among them – Tina Halladay proves an absolute powerhouse of a singer, providing enough grit to temper the sugar rush of the music itself.

 11. Kelela – Take Me Apart

After a number of EPs and countless guest appearances, Kelela’s debut LP finally appeared, and it was a revelation. In somewhat similar territory to fka Twigs, she twists contemporary R&B sounds into strange new shapes, with a near-impossible attention to detail in the production of every song, making this record a treasure for the body and the brain in equal measure.

 10. Sampha – Process

Sampha Sisay has spent a few year playing guest vocalist, for Solange, SBTRKT and Drake to name a few. When his own LP finally arrived, it proved remarkably complex, deep and rewarding for a debut; fully fleshed-out and well-considered progressive soul music, it’s clear that Sampha’s been meditating on and distilling the sound of these songs for a while, resulting in a beautiful, thoughtful and moving album.

 9. Fleet Foxes – Crack-Up

Even among a near-flawless discography, Fleet Foxes’ first record in six years managed to be their grandest achievement. A tour de force of complex majesty, these massive, multi-sectioned songs hit every note of aural pleasure, even with the immediacy of a single like “White Winter Hymnal.”

 8. Lorde – Melodrama

Classic pop albums – not indie-pop, not art-pop, just straight pop – are a rare beast, especially those that a greater than the sum of their singles, and particularly those that follow world-conquering teenage debuts. Melodrama completely blows Pure Heroine away, cementing Lorde’s position as one the world’s great pop songwriters.

 7. Feist – Pleasure

At the time, and following her surprise hit “1234,” Feist’s Metals album seemed shockingly raw; now, it sounds downright opulent, such is the stark, unpolished nature of Pleasure. Here, Feist drifts ever further from the mainstream, pushing her vocals low in the mix, and letting the songs breathe with an uncluttered, unrefined, downright dirty sound.

 6. The Smith Street Band – More Scared Of You Than You Are Of Me

Hitting full throttle within seconds, then barely letting up for another moment, this album catapulted the Smith Street Band into Australian music’s big leagues. Its core is Wil Wagner’s voice and lyrics, which split some critics between disarmingly honest and direct on the one hand, and mere bogan rantings on the other. For my part, I found his soppy romanticism and vulnerable realisations utterly gripping throughout.

 5. Jay Som – Everybody Works

This album, from a woman otherwise named Melina Duterte, is the very epitome of not just indie rock in 2017, but independent music of any genre. Written, performed and produced entirely on her own, this is an album of intimacy, honesty, directness and identity-formation. Most importantly, despite the easy tags, there are no ballads or anthems here; rather, despite drifting from subtle bedroom pop to fuzzed-out noise, Duterte’s compositions are all about shades of grey, a true sign of a gifted songwriter with a bright future.

 4. LCD Soundsystem – American Dream

The fourth official LCD Soundsystem LP builds on the dance-punk template of three perfect previous records, taking it into stranger, hitherto-unexplored places; the wigged-out guitar frenzy of “Emotional Haircut,” and the apocalyptic rhythms of “How Do You Sleep?” among them. It’s all representative of James Murphys’ increasingly no-fucks-given approach, allowing himself to take ever-greater risks than before.

Or, for a shorter review: James Murphy makes another amazing record – no one is surprised.

 3. Thundercat – Drunk

Drunk feels like the album Thundercat has been teasing his whole career; after some false starts, EPs, great singles, great collaborations, Drunk is, finally, the bass virtuoso’s masterpiece. Over twenty-three tracks – none of which surpass four minutes – it’s a funk album made of small moments, intricate ideas and quirky humour. Whimsical, self-deprecating, and a whole lot of fun, it’s an endlessly loveable funk odyssey.

 2. Priests – Nothing Feels Natural

Coming from Washington, D.C., this is undoubtedly the most exhilarating rock record I’ve heard in years. From a post-punk template, Priests keep you guessing with elements of surf, garage, goth and even jazz (check out the jazzy breakdown in the opener, “Appropriate”). With Katie Alice Greer’s howls and sneers accompanying ideas of identity, intersectionalism, democracy and general disappointment with the state of the world, Priests have provided the perfect soundtrack for 2017.

 1.    Perfume Genius – No Shape

2017 was, of course, a landmark year for Australia’s LGBTIQ community, with the long-overdue legislation of marriage equality. The path to get there was tortuous, damaging and painful; yet, in the aftermath of the campaign’s success, the time is right to celebrate what should be the mundaneness same-sex monogamy. It’s in this context, then, that we receive Mike Hadreas’ fourth Perfume Genius record; a thoughtful pop album that’s at once vibrant, decadent, tender, sentimental and celebratory. A lot has changed for Hadreas between records; on his previous, Too Bright, he looked upon himself with disgust, and approached his queerness confrontationally; for No Shape, however, he has nothing left to fear, no reason to retreat. As a result, this album – 2017’s greatest – is all celebration and acceptance of self, all odes to devotion and redemption, and, at the end of the day, sheer reverence for his lucky boyfriend, Alan Wyffels.

[nano--raptor]

A Very Good Read

Pairing: Professor! Charles Blackwood x Reader

Words: 1925

Warnings: Filthy smut! Professor kink, fingering, sex, dirty talk, cursing, the c-word, fucking Charles Blackwood, I mean, he should have a warning on his own.... 

A/N: Charles Blackwood Day!! Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ Back to School week, sorry not sorry, but I can’t not write filth for Mr. Blackwood. Er, sorry, Professor Blackwood. Enjoy and thank you for reading!😘

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Swallowing your nerves you knocked on the door, taking a deep breath, and waiting. After a moment the door swung open and you were greeted by Professor Blackwood’s stern face.

“You're late.” 

Without waiting for your reply he turned and walked away, leaving you scrambling in the doorway. You shut the door behind you and hurried over to him, stopping a few feet away while he stood by his desk with his back turned to you. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you tried to calm it, taking another deep breath and slowly letting it out. After another beat, you broke the silence.

“I’m sorry Professor, but I’ve brought back the book you lent to me.” Professor Blackwood, Charles, looked over his shoulder at you and slowly turned around. His face was unreadable, his cool, blue-grey eyes boring into yours. You wanted to look away, but you knew it’d be better for you if you didn’t. After a few nerve-wracking moments, the corners of his mouth lifted into something of a smile, though the tone of his voice didn’t quite match.

“Excellent. Did you enjoy it?”

“I thought it was… exquisite.” Charles smiled then, a smug expression, taking pride in you as his student.

“I knew you would enjoy it. Not everyone has the aptitude to understand such literature.”

Charles was your Foreign Language and Literature teacher, his courses were challenging enough on their own, not to mention the fact that he himself was an absolute feast for the eyes and a major distraction. Since the first day he’d walked into the lecture hall you had been thirsting over him. Watching his movements as he walked back and forth in front of the class made your mouth water, and the low timbre of his voice often sent chills through you. It was melodic yet authoritative, and from day one you wanted nothing more than to hear how it sounded growled into your ear. 

Your suspicions that he’d noticed you too were confirmed the first time you’d visited his office; he’d fucked you over the back of the leather couch along the bookcases. He always said you were one of his best students, his assignments were trying, but you excelled at writing, and your highest grades were in his class. You were pretty sure he wasn’t giving you good grades for your extra curricular activities, if anything, he was harder on you for it. Both when grading and when you visited his office.

Charles removed his suit jacket and hung it over the back of a chair, loosening the buttons at his cuffs as he slowly walked towards you. His voice was low and husky already, and the sound of it made your panties hopelessly wet.

“So, what did you learn.”

“Well, I was actually thinking of compiling my thoughts into a paper, if you’d be interested?” Charles hummed, not meeting your gaze, stepping closer still. He stopped close enough that a weaker-willed person would have taken a step backwards, but you knew better than to shy away from him while you were here. He reached out and fingered the edge of the fabric of your sweater, caressing the fibers between his thumb and fingers. The way they moved so nimbly made your mouth feel dry, you’d felt them in your pussy before and now you ached for them again.

“On top of your other assignments?” You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking. After a moment he snapped his gaze to yours, eyes narrowed slightly and you swallowed nervously.

“Yes sir, I’d be happy to.” He took another step towards you and this time you did step backwards, again and again until he had you backed up against his desk. He smirked then, reaching his hand up and brushing a finger surprisingly gently over your jaw.

“Well, if you’re sure you can handle it, then, yes, I would be interested to see.” A smile spread across your own face now and you looked up at him through your lashes. “I assure you, Professor, I can handle it.” You nibbled your lip, hoping he’d cave and touch you, knowing you could handle him and not at all worried about adding another paper to your to-do list. Charles hummed and stepped closer still, until his body was pressed against yours. You whimpered quietly, you could feel all of him, the heat coming off of him, the hardness of his body and of course his now-prominent erection, pressing against you. Charles caged you in, bracing his hands on the desk on either side of you.

“If you’re sure about that, kitten, then I have no reason to doubt you.” The pet name sent a shiver through you, and you reached up, your fingers gently wrapping around his tie. You ran your hand up the length of it, then slowly loosened it at the base of his throat, tugging on it ever so gently. Charles’ mouth was inches from yours, you could feel his breath on your face, the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air between you until he was kissing you, and you let yourself melt into him.

One strong, warm hand reached under your sweater and rested at the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, and you clutched at the collar of his shirt, gently undoing the top buttons, wanting to get your hands on his skin. Once you got past the top few Charles suddenly pulled away, leaving you gasping. He gave you that damned smirk again, undoing his tie completely and gesturing to your clothes.

“Take ‘em off, doll.” You nibbled your lip, the sight of his swollen lips and slightly open, disheveled shirt making you feel hot and needy. You put on a bit of a show for him as you lifted your sweater above your head, stripping it off and dropping it to the floor. Slowly, you undid the button of your jeans, turning slightly, to give Charles a nice view of your ass as you slid your jeans down over your hips and down your legs. Stepping out of them, you stood before him in just your lace bra and panites, and his eyes flashed hungrily as he looked you up and down. “How’d you describe that book again?” You smiled, softly answering him with a breathy voice as he stepped towards you again.

“Exquisite.”

He hummed softly in agreeance, and soon he was grasping your hips, leaning in to nip at the tender skin of your neck. Your gasps filled the air, and once again you lifted your hands to his shirt, undoing the rest of the buttons and pushing it off his shoulders.

Charles growled then, taking your lips in a possessive kiss, tugging on the bottom one, before stepping back and slowly unbuckling his belt. He opened his pants and pulled out his cock, pumping it a few times and smirking at the lust in your eyes, captivated by the precum beading of the tip.

“Turn around sweet thing,” he smirked, and you did as you were told, looking back over your shoulder at him as he gripped your hips again, fingering the waistband of your panties. A hand at the small of your back encouraged you to bend over, and kept pressing you down until you laid your cheek against the cool wood of his desk. Then, you felt the hard heat of him against your pussy, feeling how wet you were through your underwear. You whimpered, wanting more, needing his cock against your bare heat, and you wiggled your ass back and forth.

A sharp smack to your ass made you yelp, then Charles was rubbing the sting, his voice a low rumble that you swore made you wetter.

"Quiet."

Breathing out the quietest whimper, you stilled, squeezing your eyes shut as Charles pressed his hard length against your ass. You felt it throb and thought you might lose your mind.

"Professor, please." A quiet plea, and you felt his fingertips around your panties again. Slipping his fingers beneath the band, he dragged them down, agonizingly slow, over your ass and down your legs. He hummed again, placing a kiss on your lower back, trailing his fingers back up your thighs, swiping them right through your soaking folds.

"Oh kitten, so fucking wet for me, just dripping, you're a mess already, aren't you?" You nodded, biting your lip as he easily slid two slender fingers inside you. "Mmm, does that feel good? I bet you'd rather drench my cock wouldn't you?" You felt like you could sob with how badly you wanted him.

"Yes sir, Professor, please, I want your cock so badly." Charles hummed again, slowly dragging his fingers in and out, then pulling them out completely, leaving you clenching around nothing. He then dragged his cock through your juices and you wanted to gush all over him the second he pushed into you. Slowly, Charles slid his entire length into your heat, bottoming out and holding for a moment, savoring the feeling. Then he pulled out and slammed back in, nearly punching you into a white hot state of bliss. You cried out and tried to spread your legs wider, wanting him as deep within you as he could go. He folded over you, growling in your ear just like you dreamed about.

"You like that? You like my cock pounding into your pussy like that?" The words sounded absolutely filthy coming out of his usually-very-proper mouth, and you mewled beneath him, angling your hips up to meet his as best you could.

"Yes! I love your cock, I love when you fuck me on your desk," your voice trailed off into a whine, your cries becoming more desperate as he fucked you harder, panting above you. Soon his rhythm started to falter, but his words didn't.

"Are you gonna come all over me, you naughty thing, soak this cock and drip on my floor?" He reached between your legs to brush a finger against your clit and you screamed his name as it quickly pushed you over the edge, flooding his cock and his fingers just like he wanted. With a few more thrusts he followed you, your cries and fluttering around him making him spill his white hot release deep inside your cunt. He collapsed over your back, smacking your ass again, groaning when it made your walls clench again.

The office was silent for a while, save for the sounds of your heavy breathing, both trying to catch your breath. A whimper left your throat as Charles pulled out, immediately feeling your combined juices run down your legs. He chuckled at the sight, stepping away to redress himself. You bent to grab your discarded clothes, sticking your soaked and ruined panties in your purse with a smirk. As you pulled your clothes back on, you turned to face your professor, who was buttoning his shirt and tucking it back into his slacks.

“Well done, as always sweetheart.” He looked satisfied, and as calm and relaxed as ever. Apparently your study breaks were good for both of you. “My pleasure sir.” You licked your lips, still feeling heated and flushed, but the feeling of him still lingering all over you made you shiver.

“Do keep me updated about that paper, I’m very interested to know what you think.” His eyes said more than his words, though lust in them was fading, but you returned his smile, eager for your next visit to his office.

-----

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