Anthropophagus

Warnings: unprotected sex, strange dragon anatomy (long tongue, TWO pp), inexperienced/previously virgin Neuvillette, mentions of previous loss of virginity(for Neuvillette, reader is left ambiguous), secret relationship, messy kissing, kiss marks on Neuvillette, Neuvillette is on top but reader is lowkey guiding him.

This is my first and only attempt at Genshin characters, I stopped playing after Fontaine, but I still love Neuvillete.

***

“Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry.”

-

Thunder rolls over Fontaine’s roaring seas, the waves quake and throw themselves against the shores in a violent frenzy, and the sky rumbles with a vicious crack of lightning tearing through the heavy-hanging storm clouds. Once again, it is raining in the nation of justice. 

She turns her head out of her window as the lightning tears through the air with a crackling scream, but she can see nothing but her own reflection peering at her from the darkened and rain-drop stained window. Absent-mindedly, she watches the rain beat against the soaked panes, she can’t help but watch as droplets race down the glass in hurried streaks and pool just at the basin of the windowsill. There’s an air of familiarity that hangs above her head, perhaps even a taste of nostalgia that hangs off the tip of her tongue. 

With the rain, and that unique, earthy smell that comes with it, she knows she’s certain to have a visitor soon. 

As if her thought’s had manifested, she hears the cast iron door-knocker hit the mallow wood three times. Although the sound is nearly lost in the tumultuous downpour, she turns her body towards the echoing call of the late night visitor that stands just outside of her door. She adjusts the silk robe that hangs over her shoulders, unconsciously tucking the edges into the other by crossing her arms one over the other as if in an embrace. She brushes her ____ hair out of her face and walks towards the front of her home, the only sound that fills the halls of her lonely abode besides the wind and rain was the soft pitter-patter of her bare feet hitting the tilted  floor with every step, for the visitor outside knows that she’ll answer the door without fail— so he doesn’t dare knock again. 

Her robe slips down her shoulder as she reaches an arm out and curls her fingers around the handle, she takes a deep breath before she takes a step back with her body she pulls it back with the wind’s strong arms pushing it the rest of the way. She flinches and closes her eyes as the cold grazes her skin, a rush of shivers crawls through her spine and splinters through her body before she reaches a hand up and drags her robe over her once exposed collar-bone. “My apologies, ____ , this heavy rain is quite an inconvenience, isn’t it?” She hears his voice before she sees him, prying her eyes open to look at the man before her that stands on her porch with the rain battering his back in hefty never-ending waves.

Neuvillette gazes at her, his silver hair is taken by the wind's current and whips against his cheek, he stands on her doorstep absolutely soaked to the bone and in his hands was a single bouquet of Lake Light Lilies. Although it’s obvious that it was once wrapped neatly in paper, ribbons, and foil, it now is held between his hands rather limp and beaten from the rain’s brutal touch. He looks at her with that same calm expression he always does, the same he dons whether he stands before her now or stands above all of Fontaine in the Grand Iudex’s seat, although the rain clings to his cheeks and runs down from the corners of his eyes— as if he’s crying.

She crosses her arms and tilts her head at him, “It’s rather late.” she says. 

“So it is,” He says as he holds the beaten bouquet out to her, his sleeves positively dripping and she watches as the equally soaked bundle of native Fontaine flowers makes quick little drops fall at her feet. She casts a wary glance out behind the Iudex, her eyes wondering the road in concern that prying eyes might see him, and that the public might become aware of the Chief Justice of Fontaine’s very own private affairs.  “I’ve brought these for you,” he tells her, bringing her gaze back to his own with his voice never raising a pitch. It remains calm and steady, as if he isn’t standing outside in another violent Fontaine storm. She shakes her head at him, before reaching both hands out and taking him by the wrists. He does nothing to protest, instead allowing her to drag him inside of her home and close the door behind him. He drips rainwater on her floor.

She takes the bouquet from his hands, “Thank you,” she says, turning and cradling the bundle of bright-blue flowers in her arms. She lets her fingers trace the bulbous petals, the texture is strange under her touch and the flowers seem to glow in her hands. “Although,” she hums, pressing her lips into a fine line. “It’s been a few weeks since you’ve come to visit me,” she hints, acting aloof and gazing up at her ceiling as Neuvillette visibly tenses. She cast a glance at Neuvillette behind her, “Although, it’s quite the storm outside, I wonder why?” she says, shifting to look at Neuvillette with an expectant gaze crossing her expression.

Neuvillette doesn’t fail to miss it, and he shifts in place with his eyes turning down and away from her. There’s a sense of shame in the way he does it. “I suppose—” he flexes his hands by his side, an anxious twitch evident in his fingers. “I’ve missed you, greatly.” 

Lightning lashed through the sky like a whip with the thunder not too far behind, she couldn’t believe it but it seemed like the rain was slamming down against the pavement even harder. Perhaps guilt? Her shoulders slumped and she sighed through her parted lips, she gently set the bouquet down on her mantel that’s decorated with decayed or dying flowers that wilt and hang low in their vases. The bouquet of Lakelight Lilies  stands alive as the newest addition, just beside the crinkling bodies of what were once fresh Lumidouce Bells. With her arms now freed she walks to Neuvillette and cups the sides of his fine jaw. He tips his head down, finally allowing his gaze to meet her own just as she ghosts her palms over his damp and rain kissed cheeks. She doesn’t miss the way he leans into her hands, resting his head in her tender touch and closing his eyes as she rolls the pad of her thumb along the corner of his lips. 

“I’m not really mad, you know.” she whispers, a small smile gracing her lips while she tilts her head to the side. “I see,” he murmurs in turn. “I’m relieved,” he tells her.  “I understand, you’re the Iudex, you’re just busy is all, I know.” She says and  lets one hand trace down the arch of his throat until it rests on the pronounced arch of his chest. He breathes a little harder as her fingers ghost just above his breastbone, almost hovering over his own beating heart. He says nothing, but he leans forward until he’s arched over her while she takes his wrists and places his palms flat against the curves of her waist. Slowly, and cautiously, his fingers curl into the fabric of her robe. The silk bunches and raises up the smoothness of her thighs, Neuvillette  daring to go lower and run his gloved hands over the newly exposed skin. He presses his palms down, gripping cautious handfuls of her hips. 

“It’s okay,” she murmurs, her nose brushing against his own while her hands wind around his torso. She presses her fingers against the low arch of his spine and brings him closer. “Keep going,” she prompted, turning her head up and filling the gap between them as she slants her lips over his own. In that moment Neuvillette is truly breathless, he gives a shaky little breath, his fingers curl into the meat of her hips before he fully melts into her body. He kisses her gingerly at first, his almost saccharine touch consuming her until she tastes nothing but himself. Then he grows bolder, his grip tightening and he draws her closer, his tongue flickering across her bottom lip and pressing into her mouth— and she lets him.

Ah, yes, it’s like this with every bouquet.

She moans as that hot muscle twists around her own, her fingers curling into the back of Neuvillette’s damp coat while he cups the nape of her neck. He tilts her back until her spine is arched and her chest is pushed up into his own. He absolutely devours her. Swallowing little moans and breathy gasps between desperate wanton kisses. He only pulls away when he’s done stealing the breath right out of her lungs, his long draconic tongue slipping past her lips with a shuddering gasp. Her lipstick became smeared across Neuvillette’s bottom lip, making a messy stain of rouge drag across his cheek.

Her robe has slipped further down her shoulder, exposing the valley of her breasts and the exposed skin of her torso. He’s not subtle about the way his eyes begin to roam over her prone form, it’s a detail that is not missed by her. She also doesn’t fail to notice that hefty tent that’s formed and pressing up against his slacks. Making his own arousal alarmingly clear. “May we… continue…?” He asks, so gentle in tone that she can’t help but smile in turn. Truly, it is like this with every bouquet.

“You already know where my bedroom is,” she says with a nod in the right direction.

-

By the time they reached her bedroom, the rain had long stopped.

Neuvillette’s bare body isn’t an unfamiliar sight, but it’s still a relatively new one to her. Neuvillette’s inexperience and distance with the people of Fontaine, let alone humankind, was obvious in how exploratory and curious his hands were as they still fumble to touch her as if it’s the first time all over again. He palms desperately at her thighs, pressing himself down and closer to her naked body beneath him while he slots his pelvis between her spread legs. He mouths at her throat, teeth scraping the junction where her neck meets her shoulders and tongue rolling over her warm skin while he desperately ruts against her. He pushes his waist down to meet her raised pelvis, her legs uselessly hang by the sides of his hips while he slides his long, thick, and ridged double cocks slip and slide against her soaking wet cunt. “I’ve missed you,” he mutters, “I’ve missed you so dearly.” 

Neuvillette calls her name near breathlessly as he grinds the base of the bottom shaft against her trembling bundle of nerves, her hips twitching and chasing after  his own, desperate for more friction against her aching clit. It’s still strange, getting used to his anatomy that differs from any human man, but she didn’t mind in the slightest when the shock wore off the first time she saw him disrobed. There’s two of them that hardly resemble a human mans, with soft ridges lining the underside. She remembers how they had intimidated her when she first laid eyes on them but now it almost came as a delight to feel those two twitching cocks drag and press against her dripping and wet hole. 

Neuvillette adjusts himself back on his knees before pressing the weeping tip of his dick against her pussy, the way he thrusts against her is desperate and quick, trying to press  inside of her only to slip up  and grind the slick underside of his cock against her swollen clit. She jumps at the contact, hissing through clenched teeth as he inadvertently grinds against her. She grunts, feeling him once again adjust until the tip is pushing against her. He  whispers something incoherent under his breath, perhaps a silent plea that she can’t quite catch before he slips once again and clumsily slides against her tight little hole. She claws at his shoulders, whimpering each time he fails to breech her. He wants to go in so badly but he’s too focused on her and her alone, he’s kissing at her, running his hands over her, scraping his teeth down her throat, he’s already a disheveled mess. He slides against her again, pathetically moaning as the tip of his cock bumps against her navel. 

She can’t take the wait anymore. Blindly, she reaches her hand down in between them and grips him by the base. Feeling the warmth of her palm he thrusts desperately into her curled fingers. He tilts his head back, breathing harder as she positions him at her soaking cunt and holds him there. “Hurry,” she mutters, spreading her thighs apart further and draping her locked ankles behind his lower back. 

He dips his head down and presses his sharp canine teeth into the side of her neck, pivoting his hips down and finally sinking into her wet heat. He groans into her skin and jerks his hips in desperate little thrusts, stretching her around his first fat cock while the other grinds against her hand that remains tucked between them. Once he’s pressed halfway inside, she finally pulls her hand out from between their waists only for Neuvillette to slam his hips down the rest of the way, pressing her pelvis to pelvis  into the mattress. 

She tilts her head back and cries out, absolutely writhing underneath him as she’s stretched to her limit, all while his second dick is still sliding against her clit. She whimpers, and Neuvillette raises his head from her throat to kiss at her temple. “My apologies,” he murmurs, because he can’t stop himself from already fucking her down into her own bed. He can’t stop himself and he knows it. She’s being absolutely overwhelmed by him, the smell of expensive cologne mixes with that earthy smell that comes with the rain and she’s suffocating in it. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as her face flushes with warmth and sweat. 

She claws at his shoulders, at his back, at the nape of his neck while her moans mix with that distinct sound of skin hitting skin— and Neuvillette’s own ragged and breathless grunts and groans. It’s a filthy mix of noise, and  a part of Neuvillette is stunned that such vulgar noises could be coming from him. He sounds no better than an animal, like some beast, his pale skin burns red at how far he falls into his own depravity because it only fuels him further. He’s hitting as deep as he can go, his pelvis knocking into her while his hands travel lower, he grips the backs of her thighs and folds her in half until her knees are touching her shoulders. Her legs now dangle on his shoulders with her ankles on each side of his head. He’s pressing her down and losing every bit of restraint. 

The dragging sensation of his cocks inside and outside of her make her head spin. She kisses his blush-stained face, leaving lip shaped red marks all over his ivory skin until it melts with his rose-tinted cheeks. He hilts to the base and her toes curl, gripping onto his shoulders and raking her nails down his pale back until she leaves vicious red streaks behind, Neuvillette doesn’t seem to notice let alone feel it, because he barely flinches at the contact. Although it emboldens him, pressing deep inside until he can go no further. “Neuvillette,” she whispers against the corner of his mouth, her mind goes blank and stars burst inside of her vision as the tip of his cock drags over her aching g-spot.  “Ohh— there, right there.” she closes her eyes, “Yes, right there— don’t stop, ohh, don’t stop.” she pleads, Neuvillette leans forward until he can rest his forehead against her own, framing her beneath his body while she rocks up and down with every hard thrust. He attacks that spot deep inside of her with newfound determination to abuse it, hitting it over and over again until she’s whining loud and reedy with trembling legs that shiver on his shoulders.

The constant stimulation to her clit mixes with the hefty drag of his cock deep inside of her, at this rate she knows she’ll finish before Neuvillette. She trembles, tossing her head back and forth as her hips push and roll up into Neuvillette. Her stomach curls and her cunt aches with pressure building deep inside of her waist. Neuvillette’s gaze doesn’t leave her, he stares down at her with unwavering focus, he’s determined to see her come undone. “Neuvi—” she chokes on barely strung together words, whimpering while he smothers her beneath him. He's positively transfixed on her, watching how her body shivers and chases his own for that sweet relief she craves so desperately.

"Beautiful," he whispers beneath his breath in a voice so low it doesn't grace her ears, "Absolutely beautiful," 

Warnings: Heavy-Petting, Just-the-tip type of sex, AFAB reader so She/Her is used, Grinding, FREAKY robot anatomy and a lot of robot cum, size difference, sometimes a family is an orphan, the reader, and a massive robot that u want to jump his bones u know, also muffling/slight gagging (robot fingers in mouf hhfskhfk) so u don’t wake Clara 3, also belly bulge again

Idk anymore I got him randomly on the standard banner while on a break at work so here it is (this is for all the robot fucker truthers out there)

***

“ Regarding my prior analysis… the results indicate that engaging in “bonding experiences” with the other is beneficial for the household and parental units. ” 

That’s all it took for her to find herself beneath Svarog’s massive frame, exposed, vulnerable, and entirely bare as his massive servos clutched onto the wall with one knee on the edge of the bed and the other on the ground. He was so large that she wondered if this was the only way he didn’t break the poor mattress beneath her, it was already fighting for its life, and she could tell because with every hard rut of Svarog’s hips the bed frame creaked beneath her. She held onto him for dear life, her trembling fingers pressing up into his chest while Svarog’s massive, hard, and absolutely leaking mod-piece slipping against her swollen little clit. She gasps and stutters over her words, unable to even think when Svarog is looming over her like this. She thought it would be uncomfortable when he first opened his lower interfacing panel to reveal the massive piece of metal and silicon, but now that she was able to experience it first hand she found it was actually rather comfortable. It felt the same as a toy, but hotter, even warmer to the touch than any human could ever be. 

Svarog’s hands aren’t exploratory but instead entirely stationary,  they plant themselves in the wall and make indents in the plaster. The wall almost cracks beneath his hefty weight. “My pulse oximeter indicates an elevated heart rate,” Svarog speaks as a matter of fact, his voice that’s laced with static is just as calm and collected, “I believe you are—” she interrupts him, hands slapping at his chest and ankles uselessly bobbing by the sides of his hips. “Yes, yes I’m close— I’m close, I’m gonna cum—” she babbles, her voice pitched and her breathing becoming sparse. “Keep going, just like this.” she encourages him, turning her head and breathing hard through clenched teeth as Svarog rolls his massive modded-cock over her aching clit once again.

She can’t kiss him, Svarog doesn’t have a proper face like a human would, but it doesn’t stop her from trying. She peppers little pecks up his chassis, the affection doesn’t go unnoticed by Svarog but it also cannot be returned, save for him reaching one hand down off of the wall and to her lips. He presses her head into his palm, watching as she kisses at the metal, one hand reaching up and gripping onto his thumb— for he’s too large to truly hold his hand —while adorning him in her human affection. A human’s touch. 

“Oh, Aeons,” She slurs her words beneath him, eyes fluttering shut while her pelvis burned hot with need. That unbearable knot was wounding tighter in the base of her navel and she knew she couldn’t hold on for long. The sensation grew, wrapping tighter, tighter, and tighter. She gave him a reedy whine, her volume raising although she tried her damndest to keep it low. Her cunt clenches on air, the desperate need to get filled damn near preventing her from reaching her end, she’s bordering on the cusp of her climax and it burns. “Ugh,” she shakes her head, “Why can’t I…?” she mumbles, pushing her pelvis up to meet Svarog’s, the underside of his cock slipping against her dripping wet pussy until his metal thighs slap against her ass. “I believe that a different form of stimulus may be required,” Svarog calculates.

“Huh?” She mumbles, not sure she was truly listening to him in between her desperate rutting into his pelvic-plating. Svarog doesn’t answer, instead pulling away and leaning back. She whines at the loss of contact, feebly watching as his mod-piece lifts up and off of her pussy until only a thin string of her arousal is the only thing connecting them together. “Why did you—?” she questions, but she’s answered by the blunt and fat tip pushing up against her tight clenching hole. She gasps, body jolting in surprise while he nudges that miserably fat thing against her well-prepared cunt. Even with how soaking wet she is it feels like a struggle for Svarog to fully sink into her heat. Her toes curl and she grips the bed sheet, mouth open in silent-shock as he stretches her open until she feels like she’s being absolutely split in half. It’s only the tip but it’s enough to make her legs go stiff and tremble, the inside of her thighs burn and ache while she sees stars beginning to dot her vision. 

Svarog withdraws his hips, pulling out until just the head is kissing at her stretched-hole, before driving back in to force the first few inches back into her struggling pussy. One hand tucks itself between her slick thighs, his massive and warm digits pressing down on her swollen and puffy clit while the other rests his thumb across her jaw. It’s impossible to watch her volume now, she’s being completely drowned in stimulation and it’s too much all at once. She knows she needs to be quiet because the walls are thin and Clara is in a few rooms down, Svarog knows this too.

Svarog brings his right hand up higher and covers her mouth, pressing her lips into a tight line with just his thumb before it prods at her mouth, he slips the purple metal between her teeth and presses down on her tongue. She gags, feeling just the tip of his digit graze the back of her throat before she closes her mouth over the intruding finger. Spit bubbles at the corners of her lips and drips down her chin, her eyes rolling to the back of her head while her face flushes with sweat and heat alike. She claws at his arm, desperately trying to clutch onto anything she can for any type of stability that she can, her nails almost leave streaks in his purple paint. “Mmhh— Svhh—” She’s so relieved when that crawling high returns, she plants her heels into the bed and tilts her hips up to try and welcome him even deeper, although she’s sure that’s near impossible when she already feels him stuffing her to the point she swears her navel is swelling with the shape of himself.

She cants her waist up, her hips scream in protest while she desperately seeks to get herself off. That burning ache runs through her stomach and makes her legs feel fuzzy just as she finally reaches that peak that claws at her belly. The knot that had been building inside of her waist snaps and her legs go numb. Svarog presses down on her tongue with the flat of his thumb-pad as she screams, although her volume is muffled and gagged by his metal digit, drool pools in the base of her jaw and spittles out of her open mouth. Now the usually stoic mech above her is making sounds, its low, and barely audible but there’s no mistaking the rumbling groan that comes from the basin of his chest. He pistons his hips into her trembling cunt, savoring the way she practically suffocates his synthetic-cock, the human body was truly a marvel because Svarog finds himself wanting to stay buried inside of her wet heat.

His chassis trembles while a dull roar comes from the center of his chest, he can tell that his internal CPU fans have started in a desperate attempt to cool his far-too-warm frame. “My systems are beginning to overheat,” he speaks and she swears she can hear an edge to his voice, his usually monotone drone sounds strained through crackling static. “I may experience intermittent shutdown if I do not expel excess heat.” He tells her, but she’s hardly listening to him now, she’s fucked out beneath him with her half-lidded eyes staring up into his glowing red optic. He pulls his thumb out of her mouth just enough for her to murmur, “Mhmm— go— go ahead—” between quick and raspy little breaths. 

He slips his fat cock out of her now gaping cunt, finally relenting his hold on her clit only to bring it down to his mod-piece, he begins to pump the angry mix of metal and silicon while steam billows out of the seams of his metal. It’s faint, but she swears she can hear him moan just before he overloads. She flinches at the touch of hot and sticky blue fluid that falls over her stomach in thick ropes, he jerks his hips up into his palm as another fat drop falls right over her waist, inner thighs, and cunt. He’s cumming, and damn, it’s a lot more than she expected. It practically paints her in that cyan-blue hue, the sticky and wet sensation making her shift near uncomfortably because she knows she’ll need to take a long shower after this. She falls flat in the bed with her chest rising and falling in rapid gasps for air, her entire body is limp save for a the tremors that run up and down from her legs up to her spasming hips, laying in the bed that feels near bent from Svarog’s weight leaning against it for so long.

Svarog’s pistons come to a slow stop with a hiss, he slouches over her in a way that almost seems human. She’s never seen him fatigued like this, but his movements are almost sluggish as he wraps his massive servos beneath her hips and hikes her up further into the bed. He makes sure her head is resting on the beaten-pillow underneath her, although her body is still positively stained he makes sure she’s comfortable. Inquisitively, he cocks his head to the side and observes her flushed and warm body that’s sprawled out in the ruined sheets. 

He lets her rest for some time before he reaches his thick digits up and brushes her hair that’s clinging to her sweat-slick cheek out of her eyes, “Your heart-rate has returned to a normal to moderate pace,” He says while she turns her head to fully face him. “Would you like to continue?” He asks her.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, implied age gap (inevitably, again), not letting Welt pull out, fucking someone ot the point of exhaustion (literally), top Welt, messy kisses, light breeding kink if u squint, good lord someone get grandpa his arthritis pills he’s gonna be sore by the morning

***

“Mr.Yang?” She asks, and he looks surprised to see her up although he’s guilty of the same crime.

“___,” He says her name in question, she’s still in her sleep wear, her hair is disheveled, and she looks down-right fatigued. She'd been working with the rest of the Astral Express Crew for some time, after everything was said and done Welt had expected her to want to rest the second they got back. He presses his lips into a fine line, glancing at the clock hung just above her head before turning back to her. “It’s rather late, did something happen?” he asks her, standing up from his desk and going to meet her at his door. She shuffles uncomfortably in front of him, “You know those really good supplements we got from the Xianzhou? The ones that help me sleep?” she asks, Welt’s shoulders slacken in realization, she doesn’t need to finish her sentence. “You’ve run out?” he asks her, and she nods her head in a miserable response. "We can ask Himeko to order some more if they help, but they probably won't arrive until a few days. Delays in shipping have become all too common." he tells her.

“Well, I was hoping you could help me sleep,” she says, looking up at Welt with her tired gaze. Welt perks up, a small smile graces his lips, when he grins it makes the wrinkles on his aged-face more pronounced and known. “Of course,” he agrees rather quickly, reaching one gloved hand up to adjust his thick-framed glasses before turning to his desk. He opens one of his drawers, rummaging around the small snack-bin he kept hidden away in the privacy of his office. Small goodies and some sweets hidden well from the others who might have prying hands (Namely March 7th) but he's sure he has a spare box of tea tucked away somewhere in the depths of his desk. “I believe I still have some tea from our last expedition, how about I make you a cup and then—”

He’s interrupted as she curls over his back, her arms wrapping around his torso and gripping onto his jacket. She’s hugging him from behind, he can only catch a glance at her from over his shoulder. He calls her name out again, and she peeks up at him with those same tired eyes. “I want you to help me sleep another way,” she mutters into the crook of his back, and only then does Welt notice that her hands have wandered closer to his belt, it clicks while her fingers are already working to unbuckle it from its hold around his slacks. 

Welt knows what she means now.

-

Welt took her back to her room on the express.

His glasses are folded on the nightstand beside them, his clothing long forgotten and abandoned on the floor. The bed creaks and groans, although she’s trying their best to be quiet in fear of waking the others, it’s hard when Welt’s cock feels so damn good inside of her. He presses her down into the bed with his hands on either side of her head, her legs are on either sides of his hips, dangling and bouncing by his waist each time he drives down into her. He rests his forehead against hers, his eyes closed and sweat speckling his skin. It’s hot in the room, even warmer underneath the covers, to the point it’s near suffocating and she’s stealing the breath right out of him. She leaned up, catching his lips in a brief kiss, but he followed after her and slants his mouth over her own.

The kiss is longer, more intense, and it’s mostly teeth and tongue. He groans low in his throat, his gravelly voice catching itself at the end of a soft moan while his tongue rolls and twists over her own. He pulls away for air, trying to catch his breath through his teeth. He’s already close and he knows it, maybe if he were a younger man again he’d last longer, but he's much older and time had long eroded away his stamina. Right now all he could think about was how good and warm she felt around his throbbing dick. He really is close. He knows he should pull out, this was a hasty decision and he’s not wearing a condom, there’s nothing here on the express that could serve as a preventative— Aeons, he should really pull out. He’s already seeing stars, he knows he’s so close and it’s just a matter of time.

He calls her name, “I’m close,” he warns her, “I’m too close,” he sounds absolutely breathless, and despite her whines and protests he begins to draw his hips back. She frantically claws at his shoulders, her arms wounding tighter around his torso until she scratches up his back. “N— Nooo—” she protests with a reedy little whine, and before Welt can pull out he’s shocked as her legs wrap around his waist, her heels push on his lower back and it drags him deeper into her tight little cunt. He gasps, his hips once again pressed flush against her own all while he is dangerously close to his high. “Please,” she practically sobs, “Please, please don’t pull out— want you— I want you to cum inside.” she pleads with him, and Welt practically trembles atop of her. He’s never been so aroused in his life, but he knows he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

No condom, no protection, no preventative, the rational part of his mind repeats, but deep down something inside of him wants nothing more than to bury himself as deep as he can go and give her what she wants. “___,” he says her name through a tremble in his voice, all while she’s kissing his face, lips, and jaw, desperately and greedily rocking her hips up into Welt’s in an attempt to get him to start moving again. “I— I shouldn’t—” 

But he’s already moving his hips.

He’s already fucking her again, he’s already balls-deep inside of her, the sound of skin on skin is flooding his ears and he knows it’s already much too late for him now. Her nails scrape the arch of his back, leaving hot pink streaks in his pale skin while she sobs with delight into the crook of his shoulder. “Mmf— yes, yes, keep going, cum, cum inside me—” she pleads, and Welt can’t refuse her. He's given in a long time ago. Foregoing self restraint and abandoning his common sense he's determined to give her exactly what she's begging for. Her hips roll and buck into every thrust with fervor, showing just how eager and ready she is. She wrenches her eyes shut as she bites into his shoulder, once again sinking her heels into Welt’s lower back and dragging him down to the hilt as he reaches his end. Any attempt to muffle his voice is futile, he finds himself moaning with his weight falling over her. They’re chest to chest in the bed now, with his cock buried deep in her soaking wet cunt and his pelvis is flush against hers. 

His face is flushed red while he fills her, he’s left speechless and absolutely consumed with how good it felt to spill everything he had inside of her. Rope after rope of his cum stains her deepest part, the sensation was almost so overwhelming that he doesn’t even notice that she’s cumming too, not until he feels her legs tense and tremble around his midsection. He gives a few pathetic little thrusts, barely leaving her warm cunt but instead grinding against her. 

By the time he’s done the bed sheets feel unbearable, the fabric clinging to his back that’s tacky with sweat and becoming near suffocating. Yet he doesn’t move off of her, he remains atop of her with his cock buried to the hilt inside of her, not letting a single drop of his cum leak out of her pussy. It takes him a minute to catch his breath and when he does he sighs, leaning back until he’s able to hold his weight on his forearms and gaze down at the wrecked woman beneath him. 

“Well?” he mutters to her, “Feeling like you can sleep now?” he asks her. He stills when she shakes her head, “I think I’ll need another round, I think I'll be able to sleep after one more.” she emphasized with her ankles locking behind his waist.

Welt knew it was going to be a sleepless night for the both of them now.

Warnings: Filming during sex, masturbation, penetrative sex, general weird cyborg anatomy (again), AFAB reader so she/her is used once again, slight belly bulge reference but nothing extreme, creampies yet again, I’m sorry all I write is Boothill so far 3 Duran Duran if ur out there I’m so sorry I used ur song to title my freaky robot smut forgive me.

***

Boothill is lucky to find shelter.

Tracking down the scumbags of the universe comes easy to him, but it’s only at the end of the hunt when he could finally find some rest.

As a Galaxy Ranger, he knows that he should be thankful for any place he can lay his head down, although this body of his no longer tires. It doesn’t sleep, it doesn’t need to eat, and it certainly doesn’t need a bed to rest in. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t indulge, this is a luxury and he knows it. 

So he truly relaxes when he finds some shabby motel to hole up in for the night, the bed is nothing to brag about but it does the job when Boothill sits back and kicks his heels up. Although deep down maybe he’s grown spoiled, because he notices how the bed creaks underneath his weight and it makes his nose wrinkle. He knows there’s somewhere else— someone, else —he’d much rather be giving his company too right now. 

“Her bed is always comfier,” he mutters, but it doesn’t matter, it’s one of those lonely nights and he’s itching for just a taste of luxury again. He reclines back on the mattress that dips beneath his metal’s weight, his hand reaching into the pocket of his chaps and prying out his red-cased cellphone. In this new life there are only a handful of things that truly give Boothill the warmth of the living again, the burning taste that comes from whiskey, the acrid smoking scent of gunpowder, and most of all the special companionship from another person’s body.

He mutters her name as he unlocks his phone, the blank screen coming to life and illuminating the mostly-dim motel room. He can’t help but grin as he opens his albums, and in that moment he misses her more than anything.

He can’t say he has a home to come back to, but if he had to say he’d call that girl of his the closest thing to it.

Although he’s left her behind for days now, the path of a Galaxy Ranger is one walked alone, he couldn’t take her with him even if he wanted. It would be selfish of him to even think of it. She has her own life, her own career, her own cozy home— and it makes Boothill jealous in a way, because while her door was always open to him he couldn’t dream of settling down with her. Not when he had this path to walk. 

The separate roads they take doesn’t stop him from indulging in the luxury of her warmth, and on these lonely nights where his only company isn’t her but instead the stars, he likes to remember her— and yearn for her. 

He opens a certain album on his phone, it’s only unlabelled like the rest of them, but he knows it’s the one he’s looking for when he sees her smiling face looking back at him. Her ___ eyes gaze at him tenderly through the phone screen. There had to be dozens of photos of her by now, taken by him, sent by her, it didn’t matter so long as he got to keep them. He stops, finally finding the one video he was looking for, “There it is.” he murmurs, his thumb pressing down on the small thumbnail, when he releases it the video expands to full-size and fills the screen. It automatically starts playing without him so much as pressing anything else.

-

The camera-work is amateurish, shaky at best, but it does the job. When the blurry lens finally fixes on her face, her skin is flush with sweat pebbling above her brow. She’s entirely bare, for a second the shaky camera’s hold catches a glimpse of her clothes on the floor before the camera focuses on her and only her once again. She looks at the camera, her gaze flickering down to the ground for only a moment before turning up to the person holding the phone itself— she smiles at Boothill. “It’s still a little embarrassing.” she admits, but she leans back against the bed and spreads her legs. “But I don’t mind, if you want to keep recording,” she says, tucking one hand underneath her knee and raising one of her thighs up to her chest.

The camera focuses on her dripping cunt, she’s already soaked, it’s obvious that they’ve already been going at it for a while before she reaches her free hand down and spreads her pussy apart, revealing her hot and wet hole to the camera. Although her bashful expression is still caught on film, her eyes are unable to stay locked with the phone as she glances away.

From just out of frame Boothill’s own hand reaches in from behind the phone and traces along her jaw, she leans into his palm, resting her cheek in his touch while his thumb traces along her bottom lip. She gives the digit a brief kiss, before his thumb slips into her mouth and pressed down on her tongue. She closes her mouth around the intruding metal, “You spoil me too dang much,” Boothill’s static-laced voice says from the film. "You sure, baby?" he asks, and she nods her head, giving a little "Mhmm," in turn.

He shifts his weight on the bed, and presses his cock up into her dripping pussy. He rubs it against her for a moment, grinding the fat underside against her swollen clit all while catching it on camera. The way he thrusts his hips up against her is slow and languid, he takes his time as he adjusts himself with his one free hand, pressing the tip just slightly against her wet hole. He makes sure to savor every inch sliding into her warm cunt, slowly but surely stretching her around the thick girth of his modded-cock. She cries out around his thumb in her mouth, her head tilting back into the sheets beneath her as she’s overwhelmed with the dull burn of being filled all over again.

Whatever patience Boothill had disappears, he immediately begins a vicious pace of fucking her into her own bed. Her body rocks up and down, the sound of metal hitting flesh mixing with her soft little moans and the bed creaking, all emphasized by the bed frame groaning in protest.

-

In the motel room Boothill’s chaps are opened, it’s haphazard and sloppy, but it’s enough for him to slip his cock out and immediately begin pumping it desperately. His metal hands aren’t comfortable, but they’re warm enough that if he tries to keep his focus on his phone in front of him he just might be able to finish. His eyes are trained on the screen, his lips curled as he grunts and groans along with the audio coming from the speakers. He’s watching himself fuck her all over again, and he can’t tear his gaze away from their joining. Watching and remembering the way it felt to fill her cunt up with his fat cock had him drooling, and by the Aeons, he could see the slight swell in her navel from how far he reached— he groans, the hand between his legs increasing its furious pace while the other grips his phone a little tighter.

-

She’s crying out, her sweat slick body bucking up into his hips just as desperately as he’s driving her down into the sheets. Her thighs tremble and twitch, hands uselessly clutching onto anything they could before Boothill’s free hand— the one not recording —reaches down and grabs her thigh, making it join the other against her chest as he begins to drive into her with everything he had. She’s a wreck, hair splayed out beneath her while Boothill relentlessly pounds her poor but well-loved cunt. “Fudge, you’re so pretty.” He says in the recording, although it’s nearly buried under the grunts and groans that fill the room. “So, so pretty, baby.” 

“Mmfh— Ohh—” she slurs her words around his thumb, he slips it out of her mouth and runs the spit-soaked metal over her bottom lip. “I’m gonna— cu— cum—” she pleads, and Boothill responds by giving her a hard slap of his waist against hers, making her whine as their hips are pressed flush against the other. “Right here is where you like it, right?” he mumbles almost to himself, tilting his hips and driving deep until he’s sure he’s slamming into her g-spot. Her eyes go wide before she’s tossing her head back into the pillows, chest pushing out and towards the camera while she cries out from his relentless pace. He lets go of her thigh only to press his palm flat against the bulge that’s pressing up against her navel, he can feel himself through her tender  flesh and her hips jolt and she screams through her teeth. 

Boothill continues to fuck her through her orgasm, now desperately chasing his own to the point the camera shakes near violently until he has a better grip on his phone. He curses— at least he tries too, tracing the shape of himself through her navel before his hips still against her own. He presses as deep as he can, muttering censored curses thanks to his synesthesia beacon, but before he knows it he’s filling her up until she’s absolutely dripping from the seams. Streaks of blue translucent fluid begin to drip out of her stuffed cunt, until Boothill pulls his slick cock out of her now open hole with an especially wet ‘pop’. She gasps as each inch drags out of her, groaning when he finally slips out.

Her hips are twitching in the aftermath of her orgasm, and it doesn’t take long before his cum spills out of her and stains her bed sheets. He reaches down between her stained thighs, using his thumb to spread her pussy apart and she whimpers at the contact. He focuses the camera on her fucked-out cunt, making sure to catch every second that his cum drips out of her in thick globs. He runs his metal digits over a thick strand that spills out of her, only to press it back inside with his middle and index fingers. 

- The video ends just as Boothill does, his phone is thrown aside while he continues rutting up into his hand. It’s messy, the blue fluid running down his fingers and staining his own navel, but he doesn’t care in the moment so long as he can chase that fleeting high. He drops into the bed with a huff, the heat in the room is suffocating but he’s sure that’s his own systems being near overload. He uselessly thrusts his hips up into the air, wishing that it was her that he was fucking this desperately and not his own hand. He can almost taste her warmth on his tongue all over again, the idea making him groan before his hips drop into the bed and he’s left in his own mess.

It takes him a moment, but when he finally comes down from his high he finds himself slack in bed with his cock limp against his lower-stomach plating. He'll have to clean himself off later but right now all he cares about is how good this shitty motel-bed feels, there's a bang on the wall behind him, whoever is neighbor is in this rundown lodging is surely going to complain about the noise coming from Boothill's rented out room. Boothill could care less, he lays in bed with his eyes closed and his phone laid by his side. The video plays on repeat automatically, "It's still a little embarrassing," he can hear her voice from the speakers again. That soft, sweet, voice of hers.

Warnings: oral sex ,freaky robot anatomy, cum-spitting (or.. whatever comes out of a cyborg idk….) facials and general robot mess, back at it again with more boothill smut … i just think that Boothill eats pwussy like his life depends on it. Also like just general weird cyborg stuff but not on the “touch my wires” level (yet…)

***

She fists desperately at Boothill’s hair, the filthy sound of his mouth on her hot and wet cunt the only thing that filled the room besides her desperate little whines. Boothill practically moans as he digs right in, pressing the flat of his tongue down onto her swollen little clit and circling it before closing his mouth around the already sensitive bundle of nerves, he gives her a hard suck and grips her thighs tight as she cries out from the sheer violent intensity. His pants are undone and low enough to the point his modded-cock is out, he can’t help but grind it against the bed sheets beneath him— all too desperate for friction of his own while he absolutely devours her.

Boothill pulls away with a breathy gasp, a string of saliva connecting the tip of his tongue to her spit-soaked clit, when she looks down at him from between the valley of her breasts she can see his chin is absolutely stained in her own slick-arousal. He licks his lips before he uses his thumb to spread her cunt apart and dive back in between her thighs, she gasps and arches herself up and off of the bed beneath her. “Oh— Fuck! Fuck, fuck, Boothill I’m gonna cum if you keep—” she can’t stop her gyrating-hips from bucking up into Boothill’s waiting mouth, riding his face as she gets closer and closer to her high.

She falls against the bed with her limbs shivering, entire body wracked with tremors as she tips her head back into the pillows, cumming hard on Boothill’s tongue. He finally pulls away from her with an all-too-satisfied look on his face, he leans back on his haunches with his thighs slightly spread apart, if only to ease the aching burn that came from the middle of his legs.

Before he can say a word, she’s sitting up and her hand is gripping his cock. He stills, thighs tensing as curls her fingers around its girth and begins to pump him up and down. “Wow, you’re really heating up, does eating me out get you that excited?” She said, leaning her head forward until her chin rests on his chest and her hand busies itself between his thighs— taking her turn with him the second she could. Boothill laughed beneath his breath, the sound low and deep in his throat as he moved with her, her hands guiding him to sit back until he was resting his spinal-struts against the bed frame and she sat between his spread legs. “Sure does— can’t help it none,” he reaches a hand up and brushes his metal-digits through her hair, brushing it out of her face as she begins to lower herself to his hips level. “Mm, well, it’s your turn now.” she said while laying her body flat against the bed and tucking herself between his parted thighs.

Boothill smiles down at her, reaching one hand down to run his digits down her temple, he catches some of her sweat-slick locks of hair between his fingers and brushes them back behind her ear. There’s a certain sense of adoration in the way he does it. His touch always lingers, perhaps yearning that his metal was skin once again, and that one day he could feel her genuine warmth. “How did I ever get so lucky?” Boothill murmurs as she begins to mouth at his cock. He’s reminded of his own sensitivities as her lips wrap around the dripping tip, because hot electricity surged through his cabling and ran rampant through his wires. Sensory nodes that lined the length of his synthetic cock all buzzed with that familiar warmth.

She fervently sucks him off, head bobbing between his thighs while running her tongue along the underside of his cock. The silicon-like skin that covers his metal appendage is slick with her spit, some even dribbles out of the corners of her lips and stains her chin. Boothill absolutely adores the sight.

“You’re doin’ so good,” Boothill groans, his head tilting back and his metal chest almost stuttering, if he were human again she might’ve been able to see him shivering with anticipation. He grits his sharp teeth and grips the bed sheets beneath himself as she swallows him down to the base, and when he sees the slick and glossy stain of her lip gloss left behind on his metal he can feel his body running hotter. “Fudge,” he wishes he could curse-properly, because the way her throat tightens around him has him gritting his teeth. This damn synesthesia beacon suppresses how badly he wants to curse as she sucks him off so greedily— so damn eager —it drives Boothill absolutely crazy.

Her tongue rolls over the weeping tip and Boothill feels his hips instinctively buck into her mouth, chasing her warmth as he sees stars. “There, right there, baby.” He murmurs, closing his eyes while she raises herself to open her mouth and let her hot tongue circle the head while her hand continues to pump the remainder of his cock. He opens his eyes only to watch her. He’s already so pent up that he knows he won’t last long, and watching her play with his dick has him on edge. “Dang— fudge— fu—” he reaches a hand up, covering his mouth before his synesthesia beacon makes him look a fool and lose his building high. He groans into his palm, that unbearable heat rolls through his cables and infects every wire. He grunts, groans, and moans into his hand.

His neurochip is practically screaming as his systems run hot, he’s sure that this body— that wasn’t meant for the warmth of intimacy of another —is processing all of this as some faulty wiring or a virus. Its build up of heat only makes it better when he finally finishes, his frame trembling as sparks race through his wiring as his body rushes to expel all that burning warmth. He only has enough thought to grab her head and pull her off of his twitching cock, she gasps and closes her eyes as thick-strands of blue translucent fluid pump onto her waiting face.

When Boothill lays back, a dull whirring comes from his chest, he’s realized his fans have actually kicked on in an attempt to cool down his already overheating body. He sounds no better than an old computer trying to start up again.

She sits up between his thighs and wipes the back of her hand across her cheek, catching stray and tacky lines of his synthetic cum as she feebly tries to clean her face. “Are you overheating?” she asked, Boothill giving a sluggish grumble in return. “Yeah,” he sighs with his chest rising and falling as if he were breathing. “Dang, you really worked me up. You tryin’ to fry my system’s or somethin’ ?” he jokes as she lays against his side and curls up into him.

Warnings: Thigh Jobs, risky places, sloppy kissing, non-penetrative sex/heavy petting. No mention of readers genitalia, GN reader but can be any gender, they/them is used. This one is shorter than the last one because it goes right into it. I just know I want Boothill to get a thigh job. I try not to describe the reader as much as I can but I do describe readers' thighs using soft words.

***

“Ugh, someone’s going to see, dammit.” They hiss, their hands pressing into the grit of the building they’re pressed into, the teeth of the brick-wall nip at their palms and chest as Boothill gives another sharp thrust forward. It damn near knocks them off their feet, they were already struggling to stay on their toes.

The alley-way is dark save for a few flickering street lights that have long been forgotten, the only guests here were Boothill and them, but that didn’t stop them from casting wary glances out to the opening of the street where anyone could simply pass by and see them now— see them bent over with Boothill rutting like a wild animal into their thighs with their pants pooled around their ankles. “Don’t you worry, no one’s comin’.” Boothill promises with a small laugh, pulling back if only to hold onto their hips tighter and watch as his modded-cock disappears between the plump middle of their thighs. “I’ll be quick, I just can’t wait ‘til we find some motel no more.” he promises, his hand sliding up the arch of their spine and pressing down to push them further into the wall.

His hand circles around and he cups a firm handful of their ass, his fingers were greedy as they explore the curve of their waist before dipping down and pressing into their soft thighs.

Boothill leans his head into their shoulder, his cap hitting the wall and tilting back until it falls to the floor. It’s forgotten there as he continues to fuck their thighs with absolute fervor. They can feel the denim of his chaps hitting themselves from where Boothill’s simply undone the zipper and slipped his cock out, but their focus is solely on the sensation of his dick slipping in and out of their sweat-slicked thighs. “So pretty, so soft, baby,” Boothill babbles into their shoulder and they fully embrace the wall as Boothill’s pace becomes rampant and desperate, they can tell he’s close.

“Just you wait ‘til we find a motel— ohhhh— you’re gonna get it tonight alright.” Boothill grips onto their hips tighter, they wince but take but they wonder if they’re going to have suspiciously hand shaped bruises forming there the next day. He ruts against them desperately, the way his cock drags against the warm skin of their thighs makes them impatient too. For a second they wish they could just forget about their concern and feel every inch buried deep inside them—

They’re snapped out of their thoughts as Boothill groans loudly into them, his warm breath rolling down the nape of their neck as his hips stutter and pulse against their perked ass. When they look down they can see the tip of his cock buried so far into their thighs that when he cums the mess splatters out the other side of their legs. Blue, translucent fluid splatters onto the ground and makes a mess on what was once stain-free sidewalk. It smears across their skin as Boothill continues to thrust against them in quick little spurts, desperately riding out the most of his high while he could.

Boothill slumps against their back with a content sigh, the pistoning of his hips coming to a slow stop but he doesn’t get off of them. Instead he reaches a hand around to grab them by their jaw and turn their head to look at him over their shoulder. Once they’re facing him to the best of their ability he slants his lips over theirs, his tongue bullying its way inside of their mouth as gives them a hot and heavy kiss. They moan into his mouth while his thumb presses into their jaw, opening their lips wider as Boothill twists their tongue around his own. It’s a sloppy kiss, with Boothill pulling away only to scrape his teeth along their bottom lip before he gives them a final peck on their cheek.

He rests there with them under the dying light of a street lamp with a bulb that hardly works, holding them against the wall even now before he purses his lips and grips their hips a little tighter. They expect him to pull away but instead he drives his hips against them once again, they gasp as his cock slips into their cum-stained thighs and grinds against their clothed sex.

Warnings: AFAB reader (she/her used), Freaky cyborg anatomy (Boothill is modified to have special equipment if u get me), kinda weird situationship, vulgar language, overstimulation to the point of tears, vaginal fingering, hair pulling, biting, Boothill gets a lil 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

this one ended up being way longer than a drabble should be… idk… Also I described reader’s hair as long enough to be pulled even slightly, so i’m sorry if anyone out there reads this and has short hair that cannot be grabbed

***

The phone rings with a bitter chime, a normally benign sound but with time has grown to make her stomach lurch. She knows who it is before she’d even pried the hard-shelled device out of its hiding place in her purse. Her thumb twitches over the power button and a moment of hesitation crawls through her fingers, halting her in place as she finds herself peering into the dark touchscreen— and she finds her own tentative gaze staring right back.

Her reflection was split in two by the bright white text box, labeling just who was calling although it wasn’t needed. Wanted Criminal, her memory rang. Is it really smart to answer anymore? Who would’ve thought doing a good deed and repairing some beaten cyborg would lead to this sorry state of affairs. She never expected him to start coming and going as he pleased. Hell, a part of her wondered if one day she’d have the IPC themselves busting down her door to get to none other than Boothill waiting inside. Way more trouble than it’s worth, why am I doing this again? She breathes through her teeth as her thumb swipes over the green ‘accept’ button, swallowing the bundle of nerves that clung to the back of her throat as she slowly lifted the speaker to her lips. “Hello?” She speaked in a hushed murmur, the words hardly leaving her tongue.

“Hey there,” His voice is low, that familiar drawl at the end of every word sends a shiver down her spine and the hesitation that was once bubbling inside her stomach slowly begins to dull. She hates how her thighs press against the other without her so much as thinking about it, as if by instinct alone. She can't even deny that somewhere in the mix of conflicting emotions was undoubtedly relief, relief to hear that he was okay despite the small break in communication.

“You avoidin’ me? I came all the way down here just to see ya, only to find you ain’t home.” He speaks casually, it makes her almost forget why she was doubting him in the first place. What was there to be scared about again? Boothill was just a funny if not loud guy who– Wanted Criminal, her mind parroted in a scolding tone. One with a big bounty on his head, one that was bound to bring trouble right to her door. However she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into her phone and sighing, “Just stepped out for a bit,” she excused, “I’ll be home soon.” she promised and she knew it was the truth, she was already walking right back in the direction to greet her unexpected guest.

“Hmm, that so?” Boothill hums, and she’s not sure if the static clinging to his voice is from his synesthesia beacon or the phone’s reception. “Well, you best hurry up, otherwise I might just get impatient missin’ your company and all that— and I’ll go get you myself.” he said, before chuckling, “Just kiddin’ of course. I’ll be waitin’ for you right here.”

The audacity of this outlaw to make himself at home in her space. She should’ve felt annoyed but she knew better by now, she couldn’t deny how her stomach curled at the idea of walking through that door and seeing him again.

She knew what he was there for, a place to rest his head and refuel, warm shelter, some repairs probably, and—

***

She claws at the bed sheets, the fabric bunching around her fingers and dulling the sting of her nails meeting her palms. Spit drips down the corners of her lips and makes stains on the cotton-blanket below her as tears of pure overstimulation bubble in the corners of her eyes but Boothill doesn’t stop his smooth-metal fingers from curling up and circling her abused g-spot. He has her chest-down in her own bed with her hips raised and presented for him, his left hand gripping her waist tight while the right fucks her sopping wet cunt. She cries out as he slips a third finger into her wet heat, her head tipping back and her spine arching into a perfect bow.

Boothill whistles at the sight, “You look real pretty like that,” he says while grinding his palm against her cunt, pressing his fingers impossibly deeper and making her hips tremble. “Visitin’ you is always a real treat, especially when I get to hear the lil’ sounds you make when I do this ,” he reaches his left hand around and tuckes it between her thighs that were slick with her own arousal and sweat, he wastes little time before pressing his middle and index finger up into her throbbing clit. She keens, her eyes rolling back and teeth gritting together as Boothill begins a relentless pace.

He tortured her clit while fucking her with his digits, sending shocks of warmth up into the base of her belly as static ran rampant through her trembling legs. “Mmmf— Ohhh— Boothill, too much, too mu— uch— I just came, dammit—!” she slurs her words and drools at the contact, it’s almost unbelievable how good Boothill is with his fingers. Her voice hitches and catches in her throat as that tight knot in the pit of her hips. “You close again? That’s just fine by me, go on, give me another one.” She can hear how pleased with himself he is in his voice, he’s more than proud that he’s reduced her to this filthy mess in her own bed.

She shoves her face down into the pillow that was damp with her own spit and tears, her voice muffled against the covers as he thrusts his fingers in and out of her at a vicious pace. She can’t hold on any longer and soon she finds herself cumming for what has to be the third time already. She whines and moans into the pillowcase below her, pushing her chest further into the bed as her knees dig into the mattress. Boothill gives her swollen and puffy clit a few more rubs before he pulls his fingers out of her and watches as her hips drop into the bed, waist twitching and shivers running up her legs as she rides out the high of her orgasm.

Her face feels hot and her legs have long gone stiff, she feels like she can’t control her lower body anymore.

Just as she falls from the peak of her climax, she gasps as Boothill’s hand wraps into her hair and pulls it back with a tug— she hisses as it brings her up until her chest is off of the mattress. Boothill straddles the back of her thighs and leans forward, his mouth close to her ear as he holds her captive in his embrace. “I didn’t say you could have a break,” he told her with his lips skimming the side of her cheek.

She feels the hot metal of his modded-cock fall against her raised ass with a wet smack, and he presses the heavy weight of it down to grind against her with every slow and languid push forward.

She mutters something near incoherent, maybe it’s a plea for Boothill to hurry and give her more, but it doesn’t matter because soon she loses the words as they’re stolen right off her tongue with Boothill pressing the blunt tip of his dripping cock against her abused pussy. He pistons his hips down and slams her waist into the bed, forcing every inch into her wet hole as he drapes himself across her back and pins her beneath his robotic-body. The burning sting of being stretched so wide and so fast has her gasping. She sees stars before she can hear him groan into the back of her head, hissing through those razor sharp teeth as he shamelessly moans. “Always feel so good for me,” he mumbles as his metal hands wander and take her own. He holds onto the back of her palms, keeping them pinned and out in front of her as he begins to fuck her hard, fast, and loud. He has no issue or shame in moaning as loud as he pleases, in the back of her mind she wonders if anyone could hear them from outside her door.

He made sure she was so well prepared that he slips out of her too easily, her warm and wet cunt welcoming him with every buck of his hips. “So good, so good.” he mutters through his own ragged grunts and groans. She whimpers, feeling the sting of his metal pelvis slapping the reddening skin of her up-turned ass all while his dick bullies her insides. She claws at her bed, holding onto it for dear life while her stomach curls with every thrust. The sound of the bed creaking mixes with metal on skin, and it makes her head spin. “Too— too much— you’re going so— ooo— fast!” she whines, but Boothill can’t help but go harder. Her pathetic little whimpering eggs him on and he slams down to the base, connecting them hip to hip until her ass is pressed tight against him. The air is knocked right out of her lungs as she opens her mouth

“Just a lil’ more, baby— a lil’ more—” he groans while shoving his head into the crook of her neck, nuzzling his nose and lips into the junction where her shoulder met her throat before sinking his teeth into the once smooth skin earning a breathy little gasp from her in turn. Her eyes flutter shut and she embraces herself, because despite Boothill swearing they'd be done soon—

Warnings: Blowjobs, risky places (technically by default), readers genitalia is not mentioned, can be any gender but they/them is used.

***

Himeko isn’t surprised when she finds the door locked, in fact she’s grown to be used to Welt’s quarters being fastened with latch and chain. She thinks nothing of it, everyone’s entitled to their privacy on the express. So she raises her hand and knocks several times, her knuckles beating against the solid wood while she adjusted her weight onto one leg. “Mr.Yang?” She says through the oak frame, “I’m about to make some coffee, I was wondering if you’d like a cup of tea while I’m at it.” She says with a smile and leans closer to the door, waiting for it to either open or to hear Welt’s voice calling out from within.

There’s nothing for a while until she hears Welt cough, clearing his throat before speaking with a low and near ragged tone. “No, no need to bother yourself with me Himeko,” he says and though Himeko cannot see him through the locked frame she can hear from his voice that he’s out of breath. Her brows furrow and her lips press into a fine line, “Mr.Yang are you alright?” She asks, “You sound a little off— don’t tell me you’re catching a cold.” And though instinct tells her to try the door again she doesn’t, standing in place and waiting patiently for Welt’s answer.

”I’m— I’m fine, that last mission on the Xianzhou just winded me, is all.” Welt finally returns with more strain in his voice, its like the ends of his words are cracking. “I’ll be fine after I get some rest.”

Himeko understands, after all Welt was only young at heart she supposed, it made sense for him to be so tired after such a hard-fought expedition. “Alright, just let me know if you need anything, alright?” She says, but she doesn’t receive an answer. The hallway is muted until she begins to walk down its carpeted path, only the sound of her heels sinking into the floor with every step fills her ears.

”I’ll bring him some warm tea tomorrow then,” she says to herself.

***

Welt can’t help but fall forward in relief the second he realizes Himeko is gone, he couldn’t imagine how he’d go on if she walked in and found him like this, behind his desk with his pants undone and their pretty little passenger busy underneath the table.

His lips open with a breathy-gasp escaping his throat and his hips buck by instinct alone, driving his spit-soaked cock further into their mouth from where they sat kneeled between his parted thighs. They accept it with a grunt and a gag, but they don’t protest. Instead they adjust themselves to press further against Welts waist and bring their arm up to rest it across his shivering thigh, just before wrapping their hand around the base of his cock and pumping whatever they couldn’t fit inside of their warm and wet mouth.

The heat that suffocated his dick was driving him crazy, only worsened by their hot tongue circling the weeping tip followed by greedy little sucks to the head, each time they would pull back they’d pay close attention to every little weak spot they could find on poor Welt. The obscene sound of their mouth taking him in filled Welt’s ears and it was all he could think about, his focus taken by them who still sat tucked between his thighs underneath his desk. They take hi so well, almost greedily as if they’re starving. He doesn’t think he can keep up when he’s already so close

He called their name with a low groan, his eyes fluttering shut while his elbow found purchase on the smooth countertop of his desk, he rest his brow in the palm of his hand while the other went underneath the table to cup the back of their head.

His fingers curl into their hair and he’s no longer sure if he’s trying to pull them closer or hold them down for even a moment of reprieve. He calls their name again as he recognizes that distinct burn that bubbles in the base of his waist and claws at his stomach. He calls their name again, voice breaking as he chokes on a building moan that bubbles in the back of his throat, but they don’t stop. “I’m— I’m close, I’m going too—“ he tried warning them.

It only made them worse, however. As if emboldened by his breathy little sounds they swallow him from tip to base, their lips smothered against his skin until they’re practically kissing the skin of his pelvis. They look up at him with nothing but intent in their eyes while sheathing the entirety of his cock down their tight throat. Welt can’t last.

He cums and it leaves him breathless, mouth agape as he gasps for air that’s being stolen right out of his lungs. His hips stutter and pulse against their lips. Rope after rope of hot cum pump down their throat and they swallow it all eagerly. Welt falls back in his chair with a sigh, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath.

He looks down at them and moves his hand from the back of their head to their temples, his fingers raking through their hair as they pull him out of their mouth with a slick and wet ‘pop’. His spent and spit-soaked cock falls out of their lips before it lands slack across his thigh.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, implied age gap (at the end but it’s kind of inevitable dude’s like 82), vulgar language. “Mr.Yang,”

He lifts his head at the sound of her voice, finding her standing just at the end of his desk. He doesn’t miss the way her thighs press against the other, her fingers curling in the hem of her skirt with a nervous fidget running through her palms. She looks at him with big, miserable eyes full of unmistakable need. “Please?” she mutters, “Can we?” and her voice was so low and hushed it dared to cross into a whisper. Welt knows what she’s here for without her so much as needing to tell him.

He nods in understanding and relief crosses her gentle face. He beckons her to come closer, his fingers curling and with it she moves forward like a hound on a leash— it’s endearing how badly she wants to please him.

As she stands before him his hands drift over the curves of her waist, rising up and tucking his thumbs into the hem of her shirt. He traces small images into the curve of her belly. She arches forward into his touch and tilts her head back, a shuddering sigh leaving her lips as with his palms came sweet relief.

He nudges her legs apart with his knee tucking itself between her thighs and tries directing her to lay across the flat tabletop, but she stops him with a gentle push at his shoulders and a shake of her head. “No,” she says and he stops immediately, his gaze turning up to her in question and concern before he catches that little grin etching itself across her lips. “I want to be on top,” she says as her nails rake across the buttons on his vest before her palms push against his chest, pressing his back against his chair while her knee hikes over his lap to let her full weight straddle him. He swallows at the sight of her clothed cunt pressing down on the growing tent of his pants, and he sees no reason to refuse her.

***

The filthy sound of skin on skin floods his ears, and Welt can hardly think through the saccharine heat that suffocates him. He breathes through his teeth, his head tilting far back into his chair as she rides him with fervor. Her hips bounce up and down on his lap, greedily taking every inch of his cock inside of that soaking wet cunt of hers. She bites her bottom lip tight between her teeth in fear of being heard, but she can’t help the soft sounds that escape her throat as she uses Welt to get herself off. His heavy-eyes watch his throbbing dick disappear into her dripping heat through the frames of his glasses, going in and out, in and out, in and out again and again—

He holds onto her for dear life, his chest stuttering and his fingers curling into the plush skin of her waist. It does little to falter her pace, if anything she seems emboldened by his own trembling body beneath her own. “Mr.Yang,” she shivers, pressing her hips flush against his own until their waists were kissing and grinding down until she feels Welt’s fingers tremble against her. “Mr.Yang, mm— Welt—” she finally uses his name as she fucks herself down on him.

He can tell she’s close by the desperate way she bucks herself, as if she’s trying to grind her neglected clit against him with every bounce. He dips his hands between themselves and presses his thumb into the taut bundle of nerves, rolling the pad of his digit down in circles as she whines from the contact. “Ah—” her voice pitches in her throat and she practically drools over the pressure bundling in her navel. Her head falls on his shoulder and she clutches onto his sweat slick skin, his hands turn from her waist to cup the underside of her thighs if only to assist in her faltering pace by raising her up and down on his lap. He wrenches his eyes shut and lets himself be consumed by her suffocating warmth, and she does the same to him.

When she cums around his cock, it's with a wavering cry that dies in her throat as he takes her head out of the crook of his neck, and silences her with a kiss. He swallows her moans and makes her do the same for him in turn as he struggles to remember how to breathe, his hips fucking up into her trembling body as he chases his end with abandon. He feels her whine into his mouth as he fills her, his waist pulsing as he pumps her full. He can feel his cum leaking down their joining, her well-loved cunt filled until she could take no more. His arms tighten around her for a brief moment before going slack, his body falling back into his chair with a huff and an exhale. She pulls away from their kiss to rest her head against his, their sweat-pebbled brows pushed against the other.

All he can hear now is the sound of their heavy breathing. He struggles to catch up.

His eyes flutter open as he feels her shift atop of himself, she sits back and presses her hips down again and he hisses as she lets gravity sink him balls-deep inside of her all over again. “One more?” she asks him as she peppers feather-light kisses across the tacky skin of his face. “Just one more time, I promise.” she pleads.