#worshipwrites

[etxrnaleclipse]

Cont. from @worshipwrites || Felicity and Tallulah (x)

Her curiosity was well and truly tweaked as she watched her friend, the way she seemed to backtrack slightly. No way was she going to let this opportunity disappear, so when she heard the other young woman seeming to take back the request.

"Oh, absolutely not weird at all. I mean, what better way to do these kind of things than with friends right? Comfortable and safe environment and all that jazz." Felicity smiled over at Lu, having long silently imagined how soft those lips were. "So... do you wanna?"

[loveshard]

continued from kavi's open starter (@worshipwrites)

"it's fine, really. i'm all about heroic sacrifice," kavi swore, dismissing her concern with a shrug of the shoulders. the rain thickened, drumming on the awning overhead, adding urgency. "and don't worry, the couch is perfectly engineered for maximum spinal damage. i need the humility."

he went first, shoes squelching with every step. the sidewalk was a jigsaw of puddles, the city’s gutters already clotted with leaves, the rain pressing down in sheets that even the streetlights seemed to shrink from. he eyed prudence from his periphery, who was visibly shaking, and sized up the logistics. from here, they'd have to hoof it three more blocks, then cut through the parking structure next to the laundromat, then up the eternal staircase that led to the third-floor walk-up where kavi rented a one bedroom. he never said ‘lived’—the word sounded too permanent, too adult, too like something his parents would approve of. he was pretty sure you couldn’t ‘live’ in a place that was a temporary solution to a string of other temporary solutions. but it was dry, and inside waited a sort-of-damp cat, and a fridge that, with some luck, might still have the emergency pad thai leftovers from three nights ago.

"you know, i really think the rain is just nature's way of enforcing social contracts," he said. "like, you can't reasonably refuse someone shelter without at least offering them a dry towel and a hot beverage. etiquette, you know?"

[maxmcyfield]

a week, a lot, and a little bit of choking / 🔞 percy x dylan / happy birthday @jokermoreau @worshipwrites love u ❤

Percy whined, fingers digging into his thighs, tears pricking at her eyes. She was almost sure her mascara would run, but it didn't matter. Not when it meant she'd be making him feel good. Not when all she wanted was his length inside her.

"That's it." Dylan's cooed, his cock slid further and further into her mouth, breaching her throat now.

Hands gripped at the opened fly of his pants, barely pulled down enough past his ass for him to pull his dick out of clothing. But that didn't matter, not when each new inch made her mind fuzzier, static filling her head the further he pushed into her — all of it made her even more eager to please.

His hand bunched at her recently cropped hair, the cut providing a new ease of grip for him. It started there, really, with him complimenting her about her new haircut as they sat next to each other at the stuffy industry event. They'd been apart for a week, seperated by normal busy schedules. So who could blame them for being a little touchy under the table? So what if they snuck a couple kisses in hidden corners? It all went downhill from there.

They left early, and now she was on her knees a few steps away from their front door. Sometimes, the finesse of a bed was too formal for them. Especially when they barely held back in the car.

Percy's dark eyes looked to his in deference as she sunk down lower, lower, heat pooling crudely at the bottom of her belly. It always felt so good when he filled her, no matter how she decided to do that with him. Tonight, it was her throat, taking a cue from how heavy it had been all night, her even taking cheeky brushes at it the whole time they were aching to touch each other.

"Take all of me, baby." Her husband's voice was gruff, gravely with a grunt, but always so comforting. So familiar in exactly how to make her relax, free hand skimming over the skin of her cheek.

Her lips were stretched thin around his cock as he pushed down, slow, but unyielding. A little rougher than normal, egged on by the desperation they shared, how he'd been teasing that he'd do exactly this to her all night. The fact made her clench around nothing, collecting slick in her underwear, leaving her whimpers muffled and low.

Dylan had always been girthy, a fact she discovered in discussions with Gemma, but how her mouth sealed around him was natural now. The instinct to pull off was barely there anymore, replaced easily by the constant hum of pleasure that swirled straight down, and all she could think about was how nice the heft of him felt. She'd been thinking of him all week, needing this since the moment she saw him in those stupid suspenders and beige suit.

"Fuck," he groaned, long and drawn out, emphasizing the way she bottomed out, the tip of her nose brushing against the coarseness of his pubes. His hand kept her there, but really, most of it was Percy herself, stilling her movements, bright eyes searching for his approval. Everything was her husband now. All her senses. Touch, sight, hearing, smell — emphasized by the tang of his pre coating the length of her tongue. It was euphoric.

He was panting now, sweat dripping down his face, body straining with control. Still, somehow, he smile. "Look at you, Pers. Taking me so well. When did you get so cock hungry?"

She moaned at the praise, at the implication. Six years in and it just seemed like Percy got more obsessed with him. Was more needy than every before, found herself hornier and hornier for her husband's touch. It was a far cry from them just napping together on the night of their wedding date. Now she spent nights hoping he'd wake her up with his dick in her ass. (And more than likely, that wish would be fulfilled without her having to ask.)

Alas, she would've stayed there too, throat full of his cock, brain helping recall all the filthy things they did together, if she could. But Dylan pulled her head back, and she felt the prickle of pain from how he tugged on her hair.

"Fuck, baby." He grunted, looking up to the ceiling as if to gather himself, like he could fall apart. In her dress, she could feel the slick making her thighs slide.

Dylan sighed, wiping the tears that started to fall down her cheeks. "Gonna fuck your throat now, okay?"

She nodded, eager, whining a sound that indicated her unrest. Like she needed to feel him fuck her now.

And then he did. He fucked her mouth nice and quick, enough that it made her choke, had her gasping for air when he pulled her off.

"Pers-" He groaned her nickname like he was in pain, like the pleasure of her throat was too much.

There was a pause then, his eyes searching her watery ones, silently asking if it was okay, making sure he could keep going. The love he poured into her was enormous, hand going up to clean her chin of her saliva, something to comfort her in the reprieve.

But all she felt was frustration; she needed him back inside her. And so she pushed herself down on him again, and Dylan bucked into the motion, eyes rolling from being welcomed by the gooey heat of her throat again.

"Fucking hell Percy- you're gonna kill me like this."

Percy responded with delighted, gurgled moans.