#Ferally running around my brain help

[inumbrapugnabimus-maybe]

But not green.

You know the song Mr. Jones? Yeah.

[evieelyzabethh]

"glue song"

✭"don't forget to kiss me or else you'll have to miss me"✭ ~ How Arcane characters show affection headcannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞slightly pervy jayce (you can't pry him from my cold dead hands), fluff

♞Vi♞

♞Vi kisses like she is starving, and you are the first morsel of food she can get her hands on. Like she is drowning, and you are her first breath of air. It's not just desperate and hungry, but there's also a thankfulness to it. Thank you for sticking with her, thank you for being so patient with her, thank you for loving her. Vi doesn't do anything half-assedly, especially not kissing her pretty girlfriend. It's probably her favorite form of affection because it's so versatile. It doesn't have to lead to the bed if neither of you want it to, sometimes it's just on the couch, you sat in between her large thighs, positively falling into her.

♞Her favorite place to kiss you would be on your lips as she holds you chin in her rough hands. She would kiss you thoroughly and deeply, her tongue languidly kissing your own without a rush or care in the world. She is quite prone to getting overwhelmed herself, squeezing the air from both of your lungs and having the nerve to pout at you when you pull away. On her messier days, she leaves a string of spit behind, but she's always kind enough to wipe it away with a few swipes of her thumb. With every inch you pull back she leans in a mile more, chasing you as you try to catch your breath and when she does pin you down, she holds you impossibly close so you can't escape again until she's had her fill. Even then, she holds you in her large arms and tangles your limbs together, at one point sliding her hand beneath your shirt just to lay it on your tummy and feel it move as you breath.

♞Vi is also secretly a space heater. She runs incredibly hot and because of this, sleeps naked and is always down to give you her jacket. It just makes sense in her mind, seeing her clothing wrapped around you. She likes sharing most things; oddly specifically, drinks. She's gross and thinks it's hot that you're technically swapping spit. When it comes to alcohol, especially if you're not a big drinker, both of you will nurse off the same drink, her tipping your head back and pouring it into your mouth when you get a bit too tipsy to do so yourself without spilling.

♞Her go to pet name is 'pretty' and I will die on this hill. It's the thing that defines you for her. She's an idiot and a loser and she knows there's more to you than just how you look, but she just can't help it that whenever she sees you, all her reptile brain can think is 'pretty'. She absolutely abuses it, too. Besides this, I also think she would use those sleazy kinda bar pet names, like sweets or babydoll. Not in a creepy sleazy way, but that is just realistically what she would've been hearing for terms of endearment.

♞Slight side tangent, in a modern AU she is definitely one of those mascs that gets a hold to some Calvin Klein boxers and takes advantage of every opportunity possible to show the waistband off. Part of it is just her showing affection, even if you can reach tall shelves on your own, she still insists on getting the items for you. This carriers over into many things, like twisting open pickle jars or opening your soda cans if you're someone into longer nails. While she isn't as good with building things as Jinx, I think she would definitely be able to manage putting together the furniture in your shared home. Would it take all day? Well, yes! But you chose to make the best out of it and fuck on top of the furniture to test its sturdiness and congratulate your girlfriend on a job well done.

♞On the topic of nails in a modern AU, she would love a partner who gets them done absolutely goes feral if you get them customized to her liking, like coloring them after her eyes or hair or sneaking her name in there somewhere. She feels like she's made it in life when she can pay to get them done. It seems like a selfless action, but it would be a lie to say she gets nothing out of it. The scratch mark you leave on her back after break her brain a little.

★Ekko★

★Ekko loves cooking for his girlfriend! I feel like that would definitely be his main love language along with quality time. As stated before, you two would spend a lot of time in his kitchen, often times with some source of music providing a background noise to the nonsense that you concoct together, occasionally slow dancing while there's time to kill while waiting for something to finish in the oven. Food fights may occasionally occur, but he does a thorough job of licking you clean after. He claims he 'can't let good food go to waste'.

★He would also have a sketchbook absolutely full of you. You can tell when a new edition is about to be added as well. Ekko isn't loud, but he isn't quiet either. His foot is always tapping, he's usually humming something, he always has something to keep his hands busy. He's hardly ever still, except for those moments when you fully wash over him. Sometimes the lighting is exceptionally beautiful, sometimes it's in appreciation of how the wind moves the world around you, and some moments are just so breathtaking beautiful he has to take a moment to go silent, still, and stare. Sometimes he'll just tell you to be in his presence and be pretty so he can properly commit you to paint and commemorate you forever in oils and brush strokes. He's not above nude paintings, though those strokes look and feel much different.

★Ekko is the CEO of quick kisses. He's a busy guy!! He's running an entire commune. He makes the absolute most out of moments when you have the world to yourselves, but most of what you receive are quick passing kisses on your cheeks or the corner of your mouth. He misses on purpose because he simply does not believe in starting things he doesn't have the time to finish. For this reason, I don't think he'd be a big quickie guy. A kiss can easily just be a kiss, but sex is not something meant to be done in 5 minutes.

★Ekko's favorite place to kiss you would also be your lips. He's a romantic, what can I say!!! At the end of every day, you ask each other how your day was after you've both showered and gotten comfy. You both sit on his bed, set beside each other, your legs haphazardly laid over his as he casually massages your thigh. Sometimes you're both a bit too tired and aren't listening that hard, the occasional tidbit catching your attention making either of you sit straight and get closer until eventually you laid on top of him, both of you half asleep. No matter how much energy either of you has, a good night kiss is to be had. When Ekko doesn't need to be quick, he is impossibly slow. He has all the time and then some.

★Not only does he demand a good night kiss, but a good morning kiss to. He gets pouty without it. And sassy. He tells Scar, very loudly so that everyone can hear him, that you hate and don't love him anymore and he is just so deeply hurt that you would let your boyfriend, you're one true love, leave the house without kissing him goodbye and doesn't shut up about it until he gets his goddamn kiss.

★He loves picking out your outfits. He prides himself on the way he dresses and out of everyone, I think Ekko has the most domestic skills. I've already discussed how well he cooks, but I wouldn't be surprised if he also knew his way around a needle and thread. He is not just wearing any clothes; he has a sense of style that he is very proud of. This being said, he loves going shopping with you in a modern AU and he loves when you eventually get comfortable enough to not retreat into the bathroom when changing from outfit to outfit. He's the one making you do the little spin so he can appreciate the outfit from all angles.

★As far as pet names go, I think Ekko would keep it simple with "babe" or "baby" for more casual usages. I also think he would be fond of "my girl" and expects it from you in return because yes he is "your boy" and yes you are "his girl" and yes he loves you very very much. He wouldn't be a stranger to "my love", especially in the mornings or at night when your face is the first and last thing he sees when he closes his eyes. It makes him feel extra sappy.

���Jayce❂

❂He is all over you at all times of the day omg. I feel like of everyone, Jayce would be the clingiest. This isn't to say he's attached to you at the hip, but his favorite part of the day is getting to go home to you. You're cooking and there he is sitting on the counter yapping about Hextech or something. You're taking a shower and he wants to join. And it's not just a proximity thing, it's also a touchy thing. Any reason or way he can find to touch you, he is taking it. He doesn't care if it's pathetic, dammit, he wants to be held.

❂Jayce would absolutely thrive in a modern AU. He would be the guy whose social media page are all posts about his girlfriend and does he just love to show you off. He would spoil you so good, but rather than buying anything you wanted like Mel would, I think he would also really enjoy making you presents. This isn't to say he doesn't enjoy buying you things, one of your staple pieces of jewelry is the gold anklet he bought with his initials on it.

❂Physical touch is easily his love language but he cannot handle all that, or rather, he freezes in situations where you initiate it. His hands tend to naturally find your waist and will occasionally, if he's feeling bold enough, slip down to your ass, but one time when it was freezing out, you offered your tits as handwarmers and he got a nosebleed. Jayce is definitely an undercover perv but due to never having a girlfriend before and being completely foreign with the concept that he doesn't need to hide how badly he wants to jump your bones at nearly all hours of the day, he freezes when it comes to you initiating contact.

❂He would definitely be the type to get you teddy bears and flowers just whenever. It's never with any rhyme or reason and it happens rather sporadically, just when he is out and about for any reason and thinks of you and wants to bring you something home. He thinks of you a lot, actually. Mel and Viktor love the both of you, but sometimes he goes a bit overboard when it comes to talking about you. This being said, he jumps at any opportunity to show you off. He loves going to gala's because he likes seeing you in pretty clothes and hanging off his arm. He also likes kissing you in public, even if no one's paying attention. He is well versed in the art of delayed gratification and loves getting the both of you riled up knowing full well he does not have the balls to actually fuck you with people around (he gets loud and is very well aware of this)

❂ Jayce's absolute favorite place to kiss you is your neck. He usually starts with your lips, large hands cupping your cheeks and soft lips moving over yours until he gets more antsy. His hands travel from your cheek to your neck then begin to creep under your clothes to grab and knead at your warm skin. Then he would move down your face, peppering kisses across your lips, down your jaw, then down you neck, panting as he goes along and his hands getting rougher as he tries to remain composed. He stops there for a moment, breath fanning over skin that is now slightly red from his canines nipping you and his fresh stubble scratching the area, reminding himself to be gentle and not take more than he's given. He pleads with you, his own cheeks flushed from the heat of the movement as he mutters out his "please...". He's begged you time and time again to not make him verbalize exactly what he wants, but you are relentless. At least he has the manners to ask sweetly beforehand.

❂He is the type to lay right on top of you. After you've gotten comfy in your bed, thrown on your pajama's, maybe are doing a bit of light reading before bed, he comes around to disturb your peace and lay himself right on top of you, smothering you with kisses while he lays there. He eventually moves out of his starfish position to lay his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your torse. He's like a giant, weighted, warm teddy bear

❂One of his go-to pet names would be 'baby', but only when it just the two of you. He is also quite fond of 'gorgeous' and he always has a stupid smirk on his face when he says it. His favorite would be 'sweetheart'. Slightly off topic, he would be the first to jump the gun and start calling you his wife. Especially to council members that are annoying him and taking up time he'd rather be spending with you, he is very quick to pull a "Sorry, gotta get home to my wife." He bought to matching rings for your one-year anniversary to sell the story better.

☽Viktor☾

☽As far as physical affection goes, I think he would be the least touchy. I think the touches would be concentrated on your face, lazily tracing all of your features, marking where your cheeks sink below your cheek bones, the divot between your chin and lips, and where your face is most pronounced. While he wouldn't call himself an artist, he could probably mold your face in clay from the number of times his feather light fingers have caressed every inch of it. He's utterly entranced by it. His mind often wanders while listening to you speak, eyes roaming from your lips and taking note of them in proportion to your eyes, getting lost in the color of them until his eyes flit to your nose and the way your nostrils slightly flare out. It's very mechanical, but that's just the way his brain works.

☽Less of a hugger but he does like to keep his arms around you. Especially on date nights when you're cuddled up on your couch, a myriad of snacks in between the two of you, your head resting on his shoulder while he tries to hide his snores as he falls in and out of consciousness. You accuse of him trying to go to sleep and he tells you he was just "resting his eyes".

☽He would make you all the trinkets in the world. Many of them start as failed experiments of his or scraps from projects past that need to be repurposed, but the thought is always there. He hates to waste and there's really no need to when he has a girlfriend he can make gifts for. Your vanity is full of pretty side projects, decorative boxes for your makeup, ornate music boxes, tea sets and tiny figurines. Your desk would be full of special tchotchkes.

☽Speaking of tchotchkes, I think that would be one of his playful nicknames for you. It sounds absolutely delectable in his accent. I think he would also go for the classier terms of endearment such as 'dear', 'love', 'darling' as well as variations of them in his mother tongue. He would love teaching you his native language, both as a way to bond even more but also to make sure he never loses it.

☽He would also be big on compliments. He is probably your number one supporter, but not in the loud sports fan with a huge foam finger kinda way, but in a quieter more personal way. He is extremely confident in you and your abilities as well as being endlessly proud of everything you do. He is in complete awe of you, and he tells you as such. It is impossible to feel bad about yourself in his presence, he keeps a mental rolodex of every accomplishment of yours to combat any sort of negative self-talk.

☽Not a big PDA guy. He would rather throw himself out of a window than suck face with you in Jayce's presence. He is a big hand-holder which is disastrous when doing it while walking around because neither one of you can walk straight to save your life. It's not even an issue with his leg because you do it too. You bump into each other all the time, though in the winter it is more often on purpose to keep warm.

☽Viktor's favorite place to kiss you is on your forehead. It's simple and it's sweet and more often than not what he can get away with the most. With how much time he spends in the lab, he has grown to deeply appreciate those quiet moments with you, holding your hand under the table as he works in the low light, papers rustling as he tries to find the specific formula he's looking for. Jayce is across the table, snoring loud enough to keep the both of you awake. You look like you want to kiss him, he can feel your gaze on his lips as your fingers tangle through his hair and he turns to you and gives you a small smile then a sweet kiss on your forehead. When he pulls away, he leans into you and you sit there for a moment, nose to nose. "Just a few moments, love, I'm almost done." You giggle through tiredness. "It won't be a few moments, Vik." And he appreciates your understanding more than most things in the world. "No, it won't. But I'll try to make it quick.", he promises and then plants another kiss on you

☽He really likes reading with you, or just doing activities that allow the both of you to be doing something together without necessarily needing to talk. It doesn't even have to be something he's good at, it could be a painting session, or a pottery lesson, and he would be down. He would also be the type to try and pick up on your hobbies. You like to crochet; he's also picking up a crochet needle to try and work alongside you. And he's not too proud to ask for help, he likes a relationship where both parties are constantly learning and exploring.

☼Mel☼

☼Mel is definitely the type to spoil you. She has so much money and is not afraid to use it. You really like that dress you saw while window shopping? She's already ordered it to be tailored to your exact size. You like that bracelet? You wake up to it in a box on your nightstand the next morning and spot her wearing a matching piece later on that day. It's not to try and buy your love, she just thinks you deserve the world, and if she could buy it, it would be your wedding present.

☼Mel love holding hands at all times and specifically is the type to rub the skin between your pointer finger and thumb. Her skin would also be so soft, touching her feels like touching smooth velvet. She also likes to kiss your knuckles and the inside of your wrist before letting go, the mark her lipstick feeling like a heavy imprint of her lips.

☼She is also very fond of kissing your nose. She thinks 'booping' you with her finger is childish, but she is not above a little peck on the nose, which is the abridged version of her usual ritual of pecking your forehead, nose, and lips. Those kisses are usually taken in the morning when you go your separate ways for the day, particularly those that she knows will be long and tedious. She likes to think she takes part of you with her when she does it. She misses your intellect, she misses the silent indicators of your presence, she misses how you feel. Some days, she greatly yearns to return to you. She feels like a physical weight is lifted off her back and she can actually breathe.

☼She loves spending wash days with you. Those locs take hours and you are there right by her side, gossiping and discussing everything and nothing while royal hairdressers take down or retwist that beautiful head of hair. It's even better if you're the one doing it for her. She likes the feeling of your fingers in her scalp, massaging out the wrinkles in her brain as she goes boneless in between your legs. I, unfortunately, do not think she could return the favor. She is like basically royalty; her whole life someone was likely doing it for her. She would try and learn!! It would just take a little bit.

☼I do think she would be very good at doing your makeup. She has the base routine DOWN and usually likes to do simpler eye looks, though she can do whatever you request of her. All hell breaks loose when it comes time to do lips, and her gloss would end up all over your face as she is overcome with the unabating urge to leave glossy kiss marks all over your face . You would return the favor, whatever pigmented shade you previously wore landing all over her flawless skin, and she would savor the moment with a photo she keeps in her journal

☼In a modern AU, I think she would be really good at carnival games. I can't explain it, she just would. She's not the biggest fan carnivals and fairs as they're a bit too loud and crowded for her taste, but if you wanted to go, she certainly would never say no to you. While I think Vi would try very hard to beat them only to fail, Mel would be unexplainably good at them and win you tons of prizes.

☼Mel carries a purse on her at all times and has absolutely everything in there. Pads, tampons, ibuprofen, lip gloss, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, anything you could possibly need is in that bag of hers. She also carries the big bag so you only have to carry around outfit purses than can barely handle a handful of coins. She also loves matching outfits with you!!! You probably own so many matching outfits, matching pjs, matching workout sets, as well as multiple items of clothing that are the exact same except for sizing.

☼She would be another one who constantly talks about her partner, albeit, in a much smoother way than Jayce does. Jayce jumps at every opportunity to bring you up in conversation, it's always flows naturally with Mel but she also brags far more. It's always, "That's great but my girlfriend..." or finding ways to talk about big accomplishments knowing damn well no one else can compete. See her girlfriend has a doctorate, or her girlfriend won this prestigious award, or her girlfriend was the first to do this...what were you saying about your wife though???

☼As for pet names, I think Mel would be another person who uses "my love" or "my dear" but I also think she'd be the type to refer to you as "princess". Once again, coming from royalty, she treats you as such, and that also comes down to how she refers to you. She also just likes calling you by name, usually in her sappier moments followed by her last name She can't get enough of the way it sounds rolling off her tongue and the two of you together just sounds perfect.

[jtoddsbabymama]

jason todd headcanons //nfsw + possibly sfw?// \\18+ mdni\\

[this is my first time doing headcanons or something like this in general, if there is typos or tips pls tell me 😭🙏🏽]

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- ¡Jason Todd! Getting pussy drunk when eating you out after a long night of patrol, all you can hear is murmurs and groans escaping his plumped lips. His chin glistening with your juices and his saliva, while a smirk plastered across his face as you cum on his face, satisfied with the mess you made.

- ¡Jason Todd! Having a size kink makes my brain go feral. This man would have a smirk plastered on his face as he sees his cock poking the inside of your stomach as he pounds into you.

- ¡Jason Todd! Praising you as you give him a blow job while you struggle to take him fully due to his size. He would say things like: "You're doing such a good job, taking me so well." or "You're doing so well babygirl."

- ¡Jason Todd! Rought sex yes. But slapping you in the face? Or choking you? No, he might be rough gripping your ass or hips tightly and hard but he never grips to hard to hurt you, he wants sex to be enjoyable for you and him both.

- ¡Jason Todd! Always, will ALWAYS! make or give you a safe word if it's too much for you to handle. No matter how rough or gentle the sex is, he always makes sure you're comfortable.

- ¡Jason Todd! Loves to give you backshots, to see your ass jiggle with each thrust he does. Holding your hips tightly to keep you in place whenever you squirm.

- ¡Jason Todd! Touchy. This man is TOUCHY, every second he's around you his hands are on you. It's either your thighs, hips, ass, or waist, doesn't matter his hands will always touch your body.

- ¡Jason Todd! Aftercare? Oh yea, HEAVY on aftercare. Jason's aftercare is something to make a girl fall deeper in love with him. He's gentle with you, he pampers you, running a warm bath for you, picking you up and helping you into the bathtub and helping you bathe. He makes sure you're ok, he'll ask you "I wasn't to rough was I, baby?" while helping you put on his shirt and helping you into bed.

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This is the end. I'm so sorry if this is short, it's my first time doing this i ran out of headcanons ideas, i hope next time it'll be longer 😭. ANYWAYS, have a blessed day. 🫶🏽

[rinhaler]

Yooo, your plug!sukuna x reader fic has got me so feral imgggg

And it got me thinking

imagine Yuuji and Sukuna double teaming you???

this is not canon buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut... it is hot so hope u like this hehe

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest (itadori bro's sharing u), double penetration (one hole), degradation, praise, cheating mention, bruising, hair pulling, oral fixation, daddy kink mention, spanking, squirting, creampie.

words: 1.1k

“B-Baby I- fuck. How could y-ou? Fuck him of all- all people?” Yuuji wonders, fingers gripping into your sides deeply. You’re bound to bruise. With the way he’s fucking you and squeezing into your supple flesh, you can practically feel the broken blood vessels forming purple blooms with every thrust into your squelching cunt.

It isn’t deliberate.

He just wants you to remember who you belong to.

“’m sorry!” you cry, tears pelting down onto the mattress below as he batters your interior again and again. “I didn’t mean t’ fuck him.. I didn’t—!”

“Aht aht. None of that,” Sukuna speaks, his fingers lacing through your hair and yanking enough to elicit a pained yelp from you. Your eyes shimmer as you they reflect the stare of red irises that have become so easy to manipulate you. “Wasn’t like that when you were crying for me to ruin you, was it? In fact…” he pulls out his phone and quickly finds the home made sex tape he’d made without asking.

“D-Don’t…” you sob, though you don’t have it in you to really fight him. He pushes his thumb by the seam of your lips in a bid to shut you up. And in your cock drunk, dazed state, you begin to suck like a baby with a pacifier. You clench around Yuuji as the video begins to play and you hear how loud you’re moaning for your boyfriend’s elder brother. The sex was phenomenal and you’ll never forget it for as long as you live. “Remember this? Hm?” he questions as he swipes to a certain point of the video.

“Want you to br-uuise my c-cervix, daddy.”

You scream, a trail of drool connecting his thumb to your tongue as you can’t help yourself when Yuuji spanks your ass. He’s seen it before, of course, but it doesn’t make it any easier. God you sound desperate, and in that moment, you were.

“Think it’s okay to f-fuck my brother? Huh? You were meant to say no.” he reminds you. He pulls your back into his chest and holds each of your wrists in his hands and keeps them near the small of your back. And he uses them, for leverage, as he fucks his length into your weeping slit. “Beggin’ for him to bruise your cervix like that? Had no idea what a little slut you were. You want him to fuck you again, don’t you?”

“N-No!” you lie. You’d love Sukuna to ravage you again. To make a complete mess of your insides and churn your brain into mush. You don’t want to think about anything but getting destroyed by him and Yuuji.

You feel so spoilt.

Sukuna doesn’t say a word as he gets closer to you. His length runs through your folds and nudges your clit as Yuuji keeps you pinned in place. Your face twinkles as the light reflects off of your tear stricken cheeks.

Yuuji slows down as Sukuna helps you angle your hips.

Though you aren’t sure how it’s only just dawning on you now what is happening.

Sukuna’s heavy mushroom tip begins to split your cunt further open. Each yelp and cry silenced by Yuuji as he smothers your mouth and whispers into your ear.

“Shhhh, baby, you can take him. You’ve done it before, yeah? Good girl, sh sh sh…” he consoles you. His hands grope your tits and his lips smother your neck and shoulder in soft kisses as he tries to distract you from the stinging stretch being inflicted upon you. “That’s it… good fucking girl… you can take us both, yeah? You wan’ us to fuck you stupid, yeah?”

You hum, unsure if you’re agreeing or not. Nothing is really making sense when all you can focus on is the fact you’re somehow accommodating two Itadori cocks at once.

“Look at you… elastic little cunt.” Sukuna snarls, laughing as he drinks in the sight of you being double stuffed like a porn star. He grabs his phone, taking a quick picture so that Yuuji can see the view he’s seeing.

“Woah… you’re so good, baby. Takin’ us so well.” he praises, kissing the skin behind your ear before slowly rolling his hips again.

“Don’t fucking praise her yet, haven’t even moved.” Sukuna starts, his hips begin to move too. Their thrusts are off beat and your heart begins to pound. You aren’t getting a break to get used to the feeling. The tempo of their mismatched thrusts has your vision whiting out. Your head lolls backwards onto Yuuji’s shoulder as they continue to ruin you, and you swear you can’t breathe.

You aren’t sure if you’re even there.

“M-Maybe we should slow down,” Yuuji tells Sukuna, his hips already slowing before he finishes his sentence.

“Fuck that.” Sukuna grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. Drool spills from your lips and your eyes can’t focus. But he knows you’re listening and he knows you’re looking. You’re in there somewhere, enjoying this. “We already know you’re a whore so don’t act shy now.”

“’m g’na c-um.” you manage to squeak out even in your dazed state. “H-aah!” you struggle, but your pussy does all the talking for you. The sound of liquid spilling out of you is deafening. The suctioning and squelching sounds that follow are just as boisterous as they continue to pound into you. And just as you think your high is drawing to a close, their sloppy thrusts pick up the pace.

Another stream of liquid gushes from your cunt as they abuse your sweet spot in independently. Your head falls forward onto Sukuna’s chest, now. And he uncharacteristically cradles the crown of your head as you rest there.

Yuuji lets go of the singular wrist he’s still holding so he can focus on fucking into you. And he does, loudly. His moans are raucous as he empties his balls into your greedy hole.

Sukuna soon follows, hissing through his teeth as he spills his seed soon after his brother. None of you want to move, least of all you. You’re still clenching around them both while you rest against Sukuna’s chest. Yuuji begins to kiss at your shoulder, telling you how perfect and beautiful you are. And you shudder when his kisses trail down the column of your spine.

The elder brother is silent as he pants, stroking your hair repeatedly as he contemplates what just happened. But he hurriedly moves his hand away when he sees Yuuji look up at him.

“Knew she could take us,” he smirks. “Your girlfriend’s a perfect little whore.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[satoruhour]

gojo nuttin in you and plugging you up!!!!

a/n: request: “I’m sure you’ve probably done something about it but the way that the idea of gojo coming in you and pulling your panties up after is so IRBDJEHDBEBSBNS makes my brain numb no thoughts off the walls feral” + so im combining these two! uhm. horny devil took over me while writing

warnings: fem!reader, reader is deep in sub-space, semi-public sex, multiple rounds, pet names, calls you ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, lots of cum, n*sfw under the cut

no one really knew where this breeding kink of gojo had come around, not when he was the student talking about how annoying kids were and then got blessed with megumi and tsumiki.

he’d like to think that it wasn’t because he wanted to see little yous and hims running around the house. sure, it definitely was in his future plan, but with everything going on it would be too chaotic, so he’s willing to wait. it unveils itself to him one night after cumming deep in you; it related more to his possessiveness over you—

it rings true when he’s got you riding him in his office chair, the pleasure of his cock deep in you overtaking the discomfort in your thighs. you’ve been holding back for the longest time in the meeting with the higher-ups and the other sorcerers, unable to stop your glances toward your boyfriend while they talked of another emerging curse user.

you jumped him as soon as the meeting was over.

“f . . fuck, baby,” gojo’s breathless as he says it, a thumb to your clit and drawing languid circles. it only prompts your pussy to clench around him and your head falls down to your connected bodies. “hear how sloppy your fuckin’ cunt is, sweets.”

you can both hear and see it, see the drag of your pussy along his length and the pleasurable stretch of your walls around him. your hands go around his neck to play with his hair, messing with the abandoned blindfold resting along his clavicle.

“were you this wet for m-me, for the whole meeting?”

your scrunched up eyes struggle to open as you meet his blue ones, a choked yeah leaves your lips as you continue to bounce on him. there’s sweat lining both your bodies from the clothes still inhabiting your persons, slowly getting soiled from your juices, too.

“oh, baby, you know i would’ve dropped everything to fuck you then and there—” satoru grits his teeth when you tighten around him again and you moan out loud at the words he says. you’re not even sure whether you came, thighs shaking from your mini orgasm that you limp forward into your boyfriend’s arms.

gojo coos into your hair, doing the work now as he fucks into your spent body. the slap of his balls against your ass is obscene, whining into your ears before he starts to rut in short little thrusts again. “cumming— cu—”

gojo’s eyes squeeze shut, hiding his forehead in your neck as he spills deep in you. a deep groan reverberates from his throat, feeling his cum feel you up spurt after spurt and you’re the same, mewling softly beside his ear that only gets him hard again.

“that’s right, take all my cum, baby.” gojo mumbles, drunk on the feel of your pussy before he remembers he has a class to get to.

“you gonna keep my cum in you?” he asks breathlessly, a little softer than he expected to. but his heart soars when you nod obediently, letting him help you put your other leg into your panties. his cum still threatens to spill out, but it’s still better with the fabric barrier.

gojo is disgusting like that, “i’ll see you at home, alright?” he taps your butt playfully, landing a sloppy kiss to your lips and indulges you with a few more pecks.

that one feeling hasn’t left him since the afternoon, determined to pump you full again that he couldn’t even conduct a class properly. all he wanted to do was to rush back to you, with a sweet reward granted to him.

you were so dazed from his cock that you decided it wouldn’t hurt to put on your favourite set under your clothes, tending to your own errands as you wait for your boyfriend to return. so when you’re welcoming him with more touches than usual and a sultry voice to match, he knows he wasn’t the only one with that creampie on his mind.

you aren’t sure what round you’re on by now, pussy feeling so slick and full from how much he’s cummed in you that your mind is fuzzy and muddled.

“like it when i breed you, hm?” he slams into you from above, bed creaking from just how rough he was being. he’s got your body pressed deep into the sheets and your ass up and as usual, he’s got your back arching uncomfortably.

“y— yeah, yeah, s’much, ’toru!” you whine into your hands, feeling your orgasm approach again as you feel like you’re driven to your limit everytime and yet you come back for more. gojo is quick to cum again, cock stilling in you as he pumps you yet again and the sight is so messy.

your ass and pussy is painted with white and gojo grins seeing your hole push out his seed. he purses his lips, scooping up his cum and pushing it back in. and then he’s got you on him again, thrusting into you from below. the strings of his cum stick to your pelvis, paired with your cum pooling at the base of his cock. it’s so sticky and lewd, the squelching sounds of pussy.

“can never get e-enough, of pumping you full, princess.” you groan into thin air, juices spraying everywhere from the sheer amount of it.

“love it— wan’ more, pleasepleaseplease.” you’re out of your mind, driven into oblivion and you think that this truly was your limit, sobbing out your lover’s name when he starts to rub circles along your clit and you’re squirting, hips bucking away from the overstimulation and you grab onto his forearms like a vice.

“good little slut . . mh, squirting all over my cock— s-shit—” you’re cumming so much he can feel it on his thighs, soaking his skin and sheets. the grip you have on his cock is insane, making him so difficult to move that he grunts and stammers, pelvis faltering with a twitch to his dick.

“going to— give you another load, baby.” he mumbles breathlessly, giving one last deep thrust that has your eyes rolling back into your skull and body trembling and you’re so deep into sub-space that you just let him manhandle you roughly. satoru’s hips snap up into you impatiently before he’s cumming deep again, mind turned into mush once ropes and ropes of cum is pushed into your womb. you feel so full, so dumbed down that you don’t notice him scrambling for something in the bedside table.

“got your slutty pussy somethin’,” he whispers. the first pull out of gojo’s cock is gross, a translucent sheen of white covering his shaft from how much he’s cummed in you before he removes himself completely. you gasp at the emptiness, sinking behind into his embrace before you feel full again.

a cute little toy takes the place of his cock, a baby blue plug that is stuffed deep in you and possessiveness is starting to turn into wanting to get you knocked up. gojo isn’t sure any more.

your boyfriend prompts you to look down, caressing your thighs as he hums into your ears and you shiver lightly.

“need you to keep every last drop — can you do that, baby?” you feel him smile against your lips when you turn your head to kiss him, an affirmative response muttered against his lips together with a confession.

tagging @hyomagiri @jabamin @shotorus @satohruu :3

[xoluvx]

lunch; b.eilish .˚₊✩ part three ✩₊˚.

yeah, she dances on my tongue

part two

Billie couldn’t stop thinking about what had transpired a few nights ago. Your relationship hadn’t seemed to change. You were still friendly and bubbly and goofy, but her heart fluttered when you cuddled while watching a movie or when you'd bend down in front of her. As innocent as it was, her mind couldn't help but wander.

The first thing on that contract was still engraved in her brain. I will not fall in love with my best friend.

Then why were you the only thing she thought about now? And why did she have flashbacks every time she looked at her fingers? Why could she only picture the way you looked when she touched you and how you moaned for her? You fucking moaned for her.

Maybe it was just lust and the fact that she’d never done those things with a girl before.

“Earth to Billie,” you waved your hand in front of her face. Billie blinked before turning to look at you. She held an arm around your body as you reached for more popcorn from the bowl.

“You missed like half the movie,” you informed turning to look at her finishing the popcorn in your hand. Billie watched as you licked your fingers and maybe she should’ve been grossed out, but she was strangely turned on. So much so you felt her shift on the couch and you looked at her quizzically while wiping your hands.

“You okay?” You asked sitting up and stretching. You moaned when your hands reached above your head. Your t-shirt riding up showing skin. Billie felt like a feral rat at the sight of your skin. It’d been too long since the first time you’d let her touch you. Because that couldn't have been the last time.

“When’s the next lesson?” She asked bluntly causing your brows to furrow.

“Oh. I thought you had your dose,” you teased leaning back on the couch crossing your arms.

“I think I still have a lot to learn,” she replied scooting closer, placing her arm on the back of the couch. You looked at her with a devious look and nodded.

“You’re right,” you agreed.

“You want to learn how to eat pussy?” You asked and Billie nearly chocked on her own saliva. She coughed covering her mouth. And you smiled with satisfaction.

“I’ll demonstrate first,” you smirked pushing her back on the couch. Billie swallowed nervously allowing you to push her body down.

She thought she’d been forward when she brought it up, but not like this. Not in the slightest as you slid her sweats off. Billie hummed as the cold air hit her thighs. Chills coursing up her spine.

“These-“ you marveled pulling on the side of her lace thong. “-are so slutty. Were you planning on getting some tonight?” You asked teasingly looking at her as you supported your weight on the couch with the palm of your hands, your knees pushing down on the cushion.

Billie blushed, biting her lip and shaking her head. She hadn’t exactly not planned it either. It'd just been wishful thinking.

“You gotta tell me what you want Bils,” you hummed noticing her silence while running your hand along her hip pushing up her hoodie to reveal the rest of her tattoo. You remember when she got it. How you held her hand and she winced biting her lip the entire time; it’d almost bruised.

“Mm,” Billie couldn’t help but moan. The implications in your touch were overwhelming and lustful. She was right, it was just lust and it was a relief that you felt it too.

“It’s only okay if it’s consensual. Add that to your notes,” you teased removing your hand from her skin.

“Touch me. Touch me pl-please,” her voice cracked as she grabbed your hand placing it on her thigh. She didn't see how you smiled to yourself when she closed her eyes. She was showing you a new side to herself. A side that Billie, frankly, didn't know she had. She'd be on her knees begging if she didn't prefer her legs being opened right now.

"You have to open your eyes, how are you going to learn?" your voice was sultry, but playful as you fisted the fabric of her hoodie, the other hand tugging at her underwear. Billie opened her eyes lifting her hips so you could slid off the pesky fabric that stood between her throbbing pussy and your tongue.

"Are you sure about this?" you asked settling yourself between her legs. One leg was draped against the couch, the other hooked under your arm preventing it from falling off the couch. Yeah, there was no going back. She was one hundred perfect sure of this.

"Yes," she nodded bunching her hoodie giving her an excuse to hold on to something while your head lowered closer to her pussy.

Billie groaned softly when she felt your finger run between her folds. She was soaked, she knew it. She'd felt it. As soon as you walked through the door of her house knowing you'd be cuddled up on the couch, she'd knew she was going to have to clean up her mess with or without you. She was just glad you were cleaning it for her.

"Are you always this wet?" you asked in a tone that indicated it was mainly to yourself. Billie bit her lip at the comment. To be honest, she'd never had someone between her legs. Scratch that. She'd never had someone's face between her legs. And she'd never thought you'd be the first.

The thought only made her pussy throb harder, it almost hurt.

Billie looked at you questioning the hold up.

"You have to build up to the moment," you informed placing a kiss on her thigh. Billie winced and quickly relaxed when you kissed lower and lower until your tongue ran between the space that connected her thigh and her pussy. There was a whimper coming from her body now. The anticipation was killing her. Even if your tongue never touched her, she could live with this memory and be content.

But thank god she didn't have to do that because soon enough your lips were wrapped around her pussy. Right at the top lowering until you were at the base of her pussy. With your tongue sticking out, it ran between her folds so painfully slow.

"Oh my god," Billie huffed feeling her chest tighten.

Your eyes closed feeling the reaction shock down her thighs when they quivered. Billie struggled to keep her eyes open when you moved. You removed your tongue repeating the motion again, opening her folds with your tongue lapping her built up.

She saw the way your eyelids fluttered, intoxicated by her taste. You ran your tongue along your top lip like you were showing her exactly what was to come. Spoiler alert: it was her.

You let go of her thighs and they slumped on the couch weakly. Billie was having a hard time holding herself together.

She watched as your fingers pried her pussy open. She clenched and she swore she heard you moan from witnessing this monumental event. Your tongue was flat when you lowered your head and ran a stripe from the base of her pussy to her clit.

"Mmm," Billie muffled her whimpers while biting down on her bottom lip. Just like she'd done when she got her tattoo. You repeated that motion again and again until her legs were closing.

"Keep your legs open," your voice muffled by her pussy.

Billie nodded still fisting her hoodie. She watched as your tongue focused on her clit. The warm sting coursing through her body as you circled your tongue before flicking.

She thought the first time she touched you, she'd be able to taste you. Maybe she'd been a little ambitious considering nothing had happened since then. That's not to say she hadn't thought about it since. She thought about it constantly. And it's not that she hadn't wanted to taste you that first time. She'd wanted to. So bad. But it was one thing fingering your best friend. It was an entirely different thing having your tongue up their pussy. So she digressed.

But now your tongue was in her pussy like actually. She could feel you filling her up, your nose pressed on her cunt.

She didn't think she could come close to making you feel the way you were making her feel right now. You were glorious with your tongue.

Truthfully, she could cum on your tongue right now. Fuck, she wanted you to cum on her tongue. She wanted your thighs to smother her face. She wanted her fingers in your pussy, her tongue on your clit. She wanted to make you feel the way you were making her feel right now.

"I want to cum," Billie's breathing was heavy. She could hardly get her brain to function. It took every ounce of her strength to declare her impeding orgasm, but you simply shook your head vigorously. The flat of your tongue mimicking the motion on her aching clit.

"I'm not done. Hold it," you instructed holding her thighs pulling her closer to your face. She could feel her walls clenching around your tongue. She felt a tightening sensation unlike no other. She felt like she was going to physically erupt if she didn't cum right at this very second. So she tried closing her thighs.

"Be a good girl and hold it," you snarled hooking your arms tighter around her thighs keeping them open. Fuck, did you just call her a good girl? You weren't making this easy for her.

Your tongue lapped her pussy, rotating, flicking, slurping and good god your fingers were in her pussy. Is this what heaven looked like? Billie felt her eyes roll to the back of her head. She grabbed your head no longer able to control her urge.

"Cum on my fingers," you muttered before sucking on her clit, your fingers pumping in her pussy.

Billie was gasping for air, you didn't have to tell her twice. She let herself unravel on your fingers. A string of moans escaped her parted lips as she shook in your hands. You rested your head on her thigh as you felt her walls cave around your fingers. You curled them and she winced when you made eye contact.

"Fuck, that was-" Billie inhaled deeply resting her hands on her open thighs. "-so hot," she exhaled watching the way your lips curled into a smile. You pulled your fingers out of her, they were dripping and your tongue licked them like it was your favorite ice cream. Billie watched through hooded lids and bit her lip.

"You can't do that and expect me not to fall in love with you," she teased, but her voice sounded more seductive than she'd intended. She noticed the way the comment knocked the air out of your lungs as you tried to mask it by rolling your eyes.

"You can make any girl fall in love with you if you learned anything from today," you responded playfully sitting up.

"I don't remember, can you show me again?" Billie's voice was playful, but her choice of words were meticulously chosen.

"Shut up," you laughed tossing her sweats at her.

"Get changed and use the bathroom," you stuck your tongue out and watched as she struggled getting up from the couch. Her legs felt weak and her pussy was still throbbing remembering all the ways your tongue and fingers had touched her.

She pulled up her sweats and leaned down to face you, her arms resting behind her back. She pursed her lips and, as if you'd done this millions of times, you cupped her face kissing her. The kiss lingered longer than either of you probably intended, but it was nice. It felt warm and tingly feeling your lips on hers again.

Lust didn't make you want to kiss your best friend after having her tongue and fingers in your pussy like it was the most normal thing, Billie thought.

Lust didn't make you jokingly tell your friend you'd fall in love with her either.

It wasn't lust.

part four

.˚₊✩ masterlist ✩₊˚.

[sadhours]

better than ever

Steve Harrington x f!reader

cw: smut, 18+ minors dni, oral (f and m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex

Just something to remind y’all I’m still here ❤️

—

Dehydrated. That’s how you feel. In the middle of the hottest month. Sticky and too warm and a little exhausted as you lay back on the bed. Hands tangled in sheets, trying to catch your breath as Steve licks you through what you think is your third or fourth orgasm of the day. In the haze of pleasure, your brains a lot fuzzy and Steve’s insatiable. Big hands gripping your thighs, moaning into you as he ruts against the damp sheets. He’s still dressed and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” you mumble out, pushing his head away.

He hums, nips at your thigh before he sits back, smoothes his hands over your hips and grins wolfishly down at you, “They don’t call me King Steve for nothing.”

A roll of your eyes before you close them, unable to hold back the laugh. It’s a line. An absurdly dumb one so you say, “Nobody even calls you that anymore.”

The line worked though, you’re flushed and smiling ear to ear.

“Oh?” he squeezes your hips, “The first time I got you in bed you were screaming it. Remember?” He moans out mockingly, “Oh! King Steve! Yes! Right there, King Steve.”

You lazily kick his chest and roll over onto your stomach, reaching for a cup of water Steve so considerately placed on the nightstand for you. “I hate you,” you lie, feeling his hands grope your ass as you gulp down the water.

“I love you,” he mumbles out, voice sounding dazed as he jiggles your asscheeks in his hands. Then he squeezes and you feel his lips on the small of your back. Brings chills all the way up to the nape of your neck, makes you sigh before gulping down some more water.

After placing it back on the stand, you tell him, “Give me a break. Just a small one.”

“Five minutes?” he replies with a pout and you laugh, sit up and get your wobbly feet on the ground.

“Like an hour?” you offer as you turn around to look at him. He flips onto his back, looking pathetic as he puts on his best puppy dog face. Then your eyes skirt down to the tent in his pants. Ah. You can help him out. It’s only fair.

You smile and crawl back onto the bed, rubbing his hard on over his jeans as you kiss his lips softly. Steve hums, all pleased as he kisses back. You unbutton his jeans and he helps getting them wiggled down to his ankles. Your hand returns to the bulge, not as constrained by his briefs and you drag your tongue across his bottom lip. Earning a whine from him as you squeeze his cock just slightly. Steve makes the prettiest sounds. So soft and sweet. And the exhaustion you’d felt before dissipates. You want nothing more than to please Steve. Moving your hands to his stomach, you start pushing his shirt up and he gets the idea, helps pull it over his head and then he’s grabbing you for another kiss. This one is more hungry and desperate. Has you both writhing against each other and swapping muffled moans. Your hands run up his chest, skin soft and speckled with moles. They meet the tuft of hair decorated there, something you’re a little obsessed with. Makes Steve so manly. Sometimes you find yourself rubbing your face against it, loving the way it feels.

“Still need a break?” he mumbles against your lips, all smug.

You move your hand back down to his cock, squeeze it again and tell him, “Something needs my attention.”

“All yours,” he gasps, hand grabbing your waist before he licks into your mouth. Nasty in a way that’s unlike him. But he’s been particularly feral today.

You kiss down his jaw, neck, chest and abdomen until you reach the elastic of his briefs. Mouth his cock over the cotton, eyes up on him. His lips parted, soft groan slipping through as he rolls his hips up. Probably can’t help himself. With the way he was humping the mattress while he ate you out, you’re shocked he didn’t cum in his pants. Then again, Steve’s always had incredible stamina. Can fuck your for hours before he cums. Or if he does, he’s usually good to go again in an impressive time.

But you can’t wait anymore, you pull his underwear down and the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen springs out. Long, thick and curved just right. Pretty pink tip, leaking beautifully. Trimmed curly brown hair framing the thing. It’s a sight you’ll never tire of. Steve’s beautiful. Every goddamn inch. And he’s got a lot down there. You admire for a moment before you’re licking along the vein, then sliding your tongue against the edge of his head. Focus on the sweet spot for him and Steve’s moaning out, all pretty for you as he writhes against the bed.

You kitten lick against the spot, blinking all wide eyed up at him as he gazes down at you dreamily.

“You’re so pretty,” he tells you, breathless.

You laugh, “You just saying that ‘cause I’m licking your cock?”

“No,” he gasps, “You just look extra pretty doing that.”

“So sweet to me,” you pout, wrapping your hand around the base of him. You spit, saliva dripping from your lips onto his flushed tip and down the side of his cock. You stroke him then, smearing the natural lube all over his cock. Slow movements of your hand up and down, gathering more saliva in your mouth before you lower your head and wrap your lips around his tip. Steve groans, hand immediately knotting into your hair and tilts his head back.

“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut as you take him deeper. You use your hand to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth, drooling down his length. Squeezing your eyes as the tip of him reaches the back of your throat, breathing through your nose as you get used to the stretch.

And your core aches now. You long to feel that stretch inside your pussy. Growing wetter by the second as you bob your head up and down, sucking when you get to the tip. Steve’s cock pulses in your mouth, you can feel it against your tongue and it makes you hum. The vibrations have Steve moaning out, tightening his grip on your hair. You squeeze your thighs together, suddenly desperate for friction. But this is about Steve right now. He’s been spoiling you all day.

You lower your hand down and cup his balls, rolling them in your palm as you suck on the tip of his cock and he keeps spewing these pretty noises and a little bit of nonsense. Stutters and compliments he can’t quite get out because it just feels too good. They break off into moans.

“That’s— oh, god, baby— you’re so fucking goo— ahh, oh, fuck…” he babbles, “Holy f— that’s it, you’re such a good girl…”

You pull off with a pop and satisfied smile, glad you can make him fall apart as easily as he can make you do it, “Yeah? All for you, baby. Just wanna make you feel good. Am I making you feel good, Stevie?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods, eyes flickering down to watch your hand stroke his length. “So good. Fuck…”

You lick the tip, all exaggerated and as slutty as you can be. Slap it against your tongue as you look at him with wide eyes and knitted brows. He whines, a broken and pathetic sound that makes you feel powerful and also, so full of adoration. He’s perfect, all easy for you. You suck him into your mouth again, go down as far as you can. Struggling to breathe, eyes closed again as you swallow around him and Steve’s panting, groaning and tugging on your hair. Cants his hips up delicately, still enough restraint not to totally fuck your face. Gentle but needy.

“Christ,” he grunts, eyes crossing as you softly squeeze his sack. “Shit…. Baby… fuck.”

Then you pull off again because you’re needier, more than desperate for him. You hook your leg over his hips to straddle him. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you grind down against him. The length of Steve’s cock catches on your folds, slides through them and coats his cock in your slick.

“Need you,” you confess, “So bad.”

Steve surges his lips up to yours, hand on your hip and the other on his cock. Guides the tip to your entrance and when it catches, your pussy sucks him up desperately. You sink down on it, the pair of you moaning in eager relief. Then you’re grabbing his face, holding it as you gaze down at him and wiggle against him. Once he’s fully sheathed inside, it’s like no other feeling. Complete, full and so deliciously hot. You sloppily kiss, riding him a little uncoordinated because you’re so desperate.

“Fuck,” he manages to mumble out against your lips, both hands on your waist as he guides you.

“Stevie,” you whine, pleading for more.

“So fucking wet for me,” he pants out, a hand grazing up your back to hold onto the back of your neck as he thrusts up into you.

It’s electric, the way you two move together in synchronized rhythm. As you grind down, Steve jerks his hips up. The sweaty, slapping sound fills the room. You keep your grip on his jaw, pulling back from the kiss just to look at his gorgeous face. He meets your gaze, looking as dazed and euphoric as you feel. The stretch is always a little difficult to get through but you’re so on and Steve looks so goddamn pretty that it makes it almost frictionless. It’s easy, it’s perfect. Complete.

Steve whines, moves his hands up to grab your face, too. And the pair of you are just staring at each other, bodies as close as they could be. Tangled in the most beautiful way. Sloppy movements because you’re both a little lost in it. Can’t be as coordinated due to the drunken love taking over. Sensual and lovely, you feel so connected to Steve. Almost overwhelmingly so.

“I love you,” you gush, can’t keep it inside.

He reciprocates, easy and just as heartfelt, “I love you.”

Your skin is sticky with perspiration and you're so wet, slick leaking down to Steve’s sack. He whines and strokes his thumb against your lower lip, and you suck it between your lips. As you're sucking on his thumb, you grind down against him. The tip of his cock stroking wonderfully against the sweet spot tucked deep inside you, the spot only Steve can reach. His eyes darken, watching you salaciously sucking his thumb.

He pulls his digit from your mouth and crashes your lips together, flips you on to your back. Kisses you passionately and filthy, uses his hands to spread your thighs. Grinds down into you deep and wonderful, holding your legs open for him. His face gets all screwed up, nose scrunching and eyebrows knitting. Then Steve’s thumb is catching on your clit, rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves as he kisses you sloppy and needy.

Steve knows exactly how to touch you, he’s perfected it. Down to a science, this boy can make you cum in seconds if he wants to. And it seems like he’s determined so he must be close. As he moves his fingers against your clit, you clench around his cock. Hands messing up his hair as you slip fingers through his locks, grabbing and moaning out for him.

“Fuck, Stevie…”

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks, voice a little higher than usual, “Can feel you squeezing me, you’re close, huh?” He kisses you gently, rubs his fingers in circles against your clit faster and you whine, nodding up at him. It’s building quickly and abruptly and he’s so pretty, you can’t stop looking at him.

When it hits you, it’s intense. Has your eyes prickly with tears, your hands grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. Steve kisses back with just as much intensity, fucks you through the orgasm. Your eyes roll back before they close and you’re squeezing onto him for dear life. Stunned by the euphoria, makes you cry out. Repeatedly chanting his name.

Steve tucks his face against your neck, thrusts hard and deep before his hips still and he’s shooting his release into you. Hot and thick inside you. Makes you whimper, grab onto his sticky back and pull him close. He starts kissing against your neck and up your jaw and to your lips.

Pushes your hair back as he pulls away to look at you, fondness clouding his eyes as he tells you, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Stevie,” you hiccup back, all smiles.

[froggibus]

The Three Times You Share A Bed - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader

Genre: fluff, some light angst thrown in towards the end?

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: two times you sleep in leon's bed, and the one time he sleeps in yours

CW: roommate! Leon, kinda friends to lovers?, light angst, abandonment issues, paranoia, fear + insomnia, mentions of zombies, bedsharing, leon has intimacy issues (get therapy challenge)

OMG HAPPY RE4 RELEASE!!! I am SO excited to play once im done work this weekend! Leon looks so damn fine in the gameplay ive seen and i am going FERAL! pls no spoilers for anything new in the game! <3

RE4 remake spoiler free zone!! I have yet to play the remake so there are no spoilers in this!

————

The telltale clicking of a key in the door has you on your feet in seconds, abandoning the plush throw blanket on the couch. Before it even opens, you’re standing on the doormat. You feel a little silly, like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, but the shame is washed away when Leon steps through the door.

It’s been three weeks since you’ve last seen your roommate and best friend, and just as long since you last had company. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you standing in front of him, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He sighs and drops his backpack on the floor, locking the door behind him.

“How was it?”

You fight the urge to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and inhale his scent, knowing that’s not what friends do. Still, the feeling is there and if he went in for it, you’d reciprocate in a heartbeat.

He opens the fridge and beams at the fully stocked drinks and snacks. He cracks open a can of cider and leans against the counter. “Long,” he admits, “way too long. And my nose is still burning from the smell of rotten flesh.” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Leon’s never been much of a talker and most of his work being classified didn’t help. Whenever something wasn’t top secret, though, you were sure to sit there and listen no matter how horrific the details were.

You settle in on the couch next to the agent, listening to him drone on about a zombie-like creature that had peeling flesh and fifty eyes. You could vividly picture it from his words alone, and the image of the creature sent a shiver up your spine.

Leon talks for hours, spilling every miniscule detail of every horror he encounters. You stay the whole time, nodding along. Leon laughs at the way you scrunch your face in disgust or close your eyes in fear. He hates how cute you are, but he can’t seem to stop telling you stories. After many hours and a few drinks between the two of you, he’s almost run out of stories to tell.

Leon pats your shoulder gently, collecting his cans from where he’d set them on the coffee table. “I need a shower,” he states. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“Go shower. You stink,” you joke and punch him in the ribs.

He feigns injury at your blow, pretending to suck in a breath like you’d really hurt him. He keeps up the facade the whole way to his bedroom, only leaving character when he shuts the door behind him.

It’s only when he’s disappeared that you realize how late it's gotten—and how dark. Even though your shared apartment is on the 19th floor, you can’t help but worry something is going to crawl through your window. You shake the thoughts away and get ready for bed, but every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes you flinch.

You close your eyes and tug your comforter over your head, hoping that if there is something out there, it won’t know you’re there. You toss and turn for a while longer, staying dead quiet and pushing your fears away.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You take a deep breath, throw your comforter off of your shoulders, and sprint to Leon’s room. It’s like your brain is on autopilot—it knows exactly where to go to be safe.

You don’t knock on the door, instead quietly twisting the knob and slipping in through a crack in the door. Leon sits up as soon as your feet touch the wooden floor, eyes snapping towards your silhouette. He’s been a light sleeper ever since Racoon City, waking at the slightest of sounds.

He relaxes at the sight of you but only for a second. He glances at his digital clock, eyes widening at the time. “Y/n? What are you still doing up?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep…I feel like a flesh eating zombie is going to climb through my window and eat me.”

He chuckles. “That would be my fault.” He shuffles over in bed and pulls back the comforter. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night.”

You crawl into bed next to him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible. You can feel his body heat radiating through the blankets and smell his body wash on his skin. The feeling is new, yet so familiar it eases you instantly.

“Leon?”

He hums in response.

“Is it safer to sleep next to the window or the door? From like, a secret agent standpoint.”

“We’re on the 19th floor so window, but unless it's a hotel room, the door. You would more than likely hear it if they broke down the front door so you’d have more time to get out.”

You think for a second. “Can we switch places?”

“Honestly, y/n,” he laughs dryly, “the safest place to sleep right now is next to me.”

Your face warms at that and you nod, relaxing into his pillows. While you drift off to sleep, Leon watches over you. He knows nothing is going to come for you here, but he did promise to keep you safe, and he’ll keep that promise no matter what.

—

When you get home, you’re in a foul mood. You practically throw the groceries onto the counter before walking to your room and throwing yourself onto your bed. It’s been a long day. All of the stores were so busy you could hardly get through the aisles, and all of the people you encountered were rude.

Leon comes out of his room a few minutes later. Seeing the groceries abandoned on the counter, his first thought is to check on you. He doesn’t check on you, though. Not yet, anyway. He knows you’ll just be more upset if the frozen items melt and the milk sits out all night, so he sets out on putting them away.

After almost an hour of laying in your bed trying to recuperate after the day you’ve had, you’re snapped out of it by a text.

Leon: Come here, I have a surprise for you

You don’t feel like leaving your bed, but you force yourself out of it anyway. It’s not Leon you’re mad at. Leon is probably the only person in the world you don’t hate right now. You knock on his door softly, holding your arms behind your back.

“Come in!” He shouts.

You open the door, shuffling into his room and closing it behind you. Your jaw drops when you see a tray in the middle of his bed piled high with your favorite snacks, drinks and two wine glasses. Leon pats the spot next to him and you’re happy to oblige, relaxing onto the mattress.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

He shrugs, pouring you a glass of wine. “It already seems like you had a bad day, I just wanted to do something to make it a little better for you.”

“Thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement, turning on his tv and handing you the remote. “You can choose the first movie. Just—maybe no zombies?”

You snort at that. Classic Leon, using his corny jokes to make light of even the worst of situations. You settle on an old favorite movie you love, handing the remote back to the blond and switching it for a wine glass.

Between your favorite movie, the delicious wine and your favorite snacks, your spirits are lifted in no time. One movie turns into two, and two turns into three. Soon enough, you’re dozing off in Leon’s bed.

He moves the tray of snacks and the glasses off of the bed to give you more room to sprawl out. Laying down next to you, he watches you sleep. A part of him wishes he could see this every night—the same sight he fantasizes about on even the hardest of missions.

He flicks off the lamp on his side table and settles in. “Good night, cutie,” he mumbles, knowing you’re far too deep in sleep to hear him.

—

You wake up in the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating Leon’s bedroom. You’re still numb from sleep, your senses dulled just enough that it takes you a minute to realize that something is grabbing you. No, not grabbing—holding. 

You blink a few times. Leon is laying next to you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms around your waist. You can feel the slow beating of his heart and the heat coming off of his skin. He’s so close it overwhelms you, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You think about slipping away but you know what a light sleeper he is, and you don’t think you could handle it if he woke up and saw how close you were. You close your eyes and try to calm the beating in your heart so you can fall back asleep.

When you wake up again, Leon is gone. Your body feels cold where his once was. You sit up—is he showering? He can’t be, the bathroom door is open. You sit up, letting the blankets fall off of you. You swing your legs over the side of his bed, walking out to the kitchen, but he’s not there either.

Did he leave to go get something? 

You check your phone, expecting to see a text saying he ran out to go get more milk or something, but there’s nothing. You sigh, typing up a message and sending it to him.

Y/N: where’d you go?

You practically jump when your phone lets out a noise, but your heart sinks when you see what it is.

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

You sigh. That can only mean one thing: he’s on another mission. Typical Leon, disappearing in the middle of the night to go god knows where for god knows how long. The frustration bubbles up in your chest and you feel like hitting something, but you don’t. It’s not worth it.

You try to keep your mind off of his sudden disappearance by throwing yourself into chores. You wash his bedding and make his bed, then wash your own. You sweep and mop the floors and vacuum the carpets. You dust the blinds.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind keeps wandering back to the fact that he left without saying goodbye. That he woke up at some ungodly hour, saw you laying in his arms, got up and left without another word. He didn’t even leave a note. He really cares that little. 

You shake your head and even though the pit in your stomach makes you feel like not eating, you make yourself a sandwich regardless. Seeing the untouched groceries in the fridge just adds to the feeling.

Even though you know he’s not going to get it, you pull out your phone and start typing.

Y/N: do you at least know when you’ll be back?

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

The message makes you roll your eyes. Leon fucking Kennedy.

—

A week goes by, and then two, and you still hear nothing from your roommate. You send texts here and there, hoping for an answer, but none of them go through. Eventually, you start venting to him through there, too. Expressing how frustrated you are that he didn’t say goodbye, how annoying your feelings are, how sometimes you wish you didn’t know him so you didn’t have to go through this.

It’s a random Sunday night when you’re sitting on the couch, watching trash reality tv and eating snacks. It’s cold in the apartment, but you can’t be bothered to turn on the heat. Only when your arms puff up with goosebumps do you scour the room for a sweater, settling on a random one hanging on the back of a chair.

It’s Leon’s, an old one from the Police Academy. His smell floods your nose when you pull it over your head, and it's so bittersweet you don’t know if you should laugh or cry. You settle back on the couch, but a rustling at the window makes you freeze in your tracks.

It stops for a moment, and you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it or it’s a part of the show—until it happens again. You scramble for the remote, pausing it so you can hear better. The noise starts again, and you waste no time in hightailing it to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.

You flop onto your bed, trying (and failing) to remind yourself that it’s just the wind. That you’re safe here. But it’s hard when it’s late and you’re tired and you’re alone and the only person you feel safe with just abandoned you.

You curl up into a ball, pulling Leon’s sweater over your mouth and inhaling the familiar scent. It’s enough to calm you down, if only for a few moments. If you close your eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking he’s there, and for now, that’s good enough.

—

Leon knows he fucked up when he gets back to the country and turns on his phone. Almost fifty messages from you, each one more sad than the last. He wants to slap himself—why couldn’t he just grow a pair and say goodbye? Why did he have to be so noncommittal?

He reads every message on the cab ride back to the apartment, and his heart breaks for you. He didn’t think about how you would drive yourself crazy over him or how worried you must have been. All he thought about was getting the call for the mission in the middle of the night and not wanting to wake you up.

But he didn’t abandon you. He thought about you every day and god—he wishes he could have talked to you. Hearing your voice and seeing your face was enough to make everything better. With the horrors he’s seen lately, all he wants is to be back in that bed with you for one more night.

He’s quiet coming into the apartment, hoping he doesn’t wake you up or scare you. And even though he knows you’re sleeping, he’s still disappointed you’re not waiting at the door for him.

He tosses his backpack into his room and strips off all of his holsters and velcro.  He’s quiet walking down the hallway to your room and even quieter opening the door. He relaxes at the sight of you curled up in a ball. 

You look so cute and so peaceful and—is that his sweater? The sight brings a smile to his face. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, climbing into the bed next to you.

You wake up when the bed dips down and arms wrap around you. You’re so tired you don’t even care who or what it is.

“If you’re gonna kill me, can you at least let me sleep first?” You mumble.

You fully awake as soon as you hear Leon’s laugh.

“You’re back?” You say, and you hate the way your voice cracks. 

You turn around to face him, tired ocean eyes meeting yours. He nods sleepily, “‘m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. It was stupid of me.”

“It’s okay,” and it really is okay. All the resentment you felt melted away at the sight of him. 

“C’mere,” he mumbles. 

You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You can hear his heart rate slow down at the contact. 

“I just—I just need you tonight.” Those are big words coming from the agent, and they leave you completely stunned. He must have seen or done something horrible while he was away for him to be this vulnerable, even with you.

“You can have me tonight.” You try to keep your voice even, “you can have me whenever you need me,”

He kisses the top of your head. “But I always need you.”

“Then I’m always yours.”

Neither of you speak after that, Leon falling into a light sleep. You stay up a while longer, watching the blond boy rest beneath you. He looks so fragile like this, you can’t imagine him fighting off monsters and handling weapons. You kiss his collarbone through his shirt and let yourself fall asleep with him. 

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: HE’S SO F**KING BIG THAT HE COULD CRUSH YOU & YOU LOVE IT (18+) (for Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: I came up with this on the fly thinking of getting pounded into my mattress by Zoro & how big n strong he is. He’d probably leave me all bruised & achy but it’d be totally fine with me! This is for the girls who adore the big bois. Enjoy! -Jazz 💋💋💋

*******

“You’re…so…big…and…strong!”

Each word was punctuated by a thrust by your boyfriend hovering over you.

Correction: your very big, very strong, very sexy boyfriend hovering over you, his dick filling you to the brim and his big, veiny hands pinning your knees to your chest. You love it when he does this. When he shows you just how strong he is.

You can’t help but tell your man what he already knows, panting and raggedly moaning out this statement as he puts your ass straight into the mattress. A big, prideful smile stretches across his handsome face shining in sweat from constantly, roughly fucking your pretty brains out of your head.

“Yeah?” He teasingly asks. “Does my baby love gettin’ pinned down and fucked by her big, strong man?”

He speeds up, fucking you at a pace that has your pants and heavy breaths increasing. His cock seems to stretch you out every single he plunges back into the velvety, wet walls of your pussy that squelch and clench around him, gripping him and keeping him there inside of you.

“Yes!” You damn near scream out. “Yes, I fucking love it! I love gettin’ fucked by you, Daddy!”

You grip his hard, broad shoulders and pecs you could motorboat forever, digging your nails into his skin as he fucks you harder. Faster. Rougher. He smiles down at you, leaning down to press a passionate, searing hot kiss to your lips. “Good girl,” he whispers against your mouth.

He then tosses one of your legs over the other and begins to fuck you from the side, driving you up against the bed. Thank God the pillows are above you because your head would be knocking against the headboard at this point…but it is knocking against the wall every time he drives himself into you with all the energy and force he can muster.

You love it when he gets this feral. This uncontrollable. This unbound and unbridled with his strength. You can’t get enough of it! The way he can toss your body and limbs around like a salad, rip your clothes off (which he has), and use you as he wants to is everything you want and need.

You love feeling his big body on top of you, feeling his weight pressing down onto your body while your feet dangle from his shoulders and his dick pummels into you.

You love feeling his big arms wrap around you, making you feel oh-so small yet safe, his bulging veins prominent underneath his skin. You can’t resist the urge to run your fingers up them every time he snakes them around you or to tell him to squeeze you more.

He often gets nervous when you tell him to do this, especially during sex, but he does it, squeezing you to your little heart’s content. “Is this okay?” He would ask, concerned. “I’m not hurting you?”

“No!” You’d squeak out, smiling contently and feeling like a boa constrictor was hugging you. “Harder please!”

But you especially love it when he flips you over without even asking (because he knows you want it) and drills your shit from behind. His big body mounts you and his calloused hands grip your hips as he drives his hips into you again and again and again.

Sometimes, he forces you into his favorite position (face down, ass up) and locks your legs in with his powerful thighs while pounding your pussy from behind, sending you reeling like you are now. He has now tossed you onto all fours, ass tooted up and face pressed into the bed. His hands dig into your hips and the flesh of your ass that you can tell you’ll have bruises tomorrow.

But you don’t care. You can’t care. Not when the sex is this fucking amazing. Not when your pussy is squelching and dripping and gushing and singing around his beautiful, thick, fat, veiny cock.

“You’re the only one I do this for,” he pants out, transfixed by the way your ass bounces against him and the way your pretty pussy takes him. “Only you can make me this fuckin’ insane.”

You want to tell him the same thing. That his big body and even bigger muscles make you absolutely unhinged. His ripping abs. His bulging biceps and pectorals. His thighs that look like they could crush watermelons and you. The way his size and height make you feel so small even when standing next to him or lying in your bed with him which he sometimes makes you feel is doll-sized.

He’s just so goddamn big!

But your tongue is too tied and your words a babbling mess to reply. But he don’t give a shit. One of his big hands move to grip your throat while the other smacks your ass, leaving it stinging. “Give me your fuckin’ words, baby,” he huffs. “C’mon, my dick isn’t leavin’ you that speechless, is it? Let me know how you feel.”

And so you say the only words on your mind as your orgasm quickly begins approaching: “I-I-I love you!” You sob, open-mouthed and bawling into the mattress.

He doesn’t answer immediately, but when he does, you can tell he’s smiling: “I love you too, baby. Now make that slutty pussy cum for me.”

And as usual, when you cum, you cum hard all around his dick. And when he finally cums for you, he pins you down underneath his body and fills you to the brim with all of him. “Take it,” he demands. “Fuckin’ take all of me, baby!”

You do. You don’t have a choice. He is right on top of you, forcing you to take all of his cum deep inside of your pussy. By the time he finishes, you are both exhausted and his nut drips down your inner thighs, creating a pool between them that stains the sheets beneath you.

With a sigh, your man gently pulls out of you and flops down beside you onto his back. You turn your head toward him and admire his toned body with muscles carved from steel and stone glistening in sweat and adorned in the afterglow of a good, rough fucking.

Noticing your eyes on him, he turns to you and smiles, love and all the affection all woman could want in his eyes. “Okay?” He asks.

You tilt your head up and press a small, loving kiss to his lips, exhausted, achy, and oh-so satisfied. “Okay,” you sigh.

Dedicated to: Zoro, Bakugou, Geto, Gojo, Grimmjow, Sukuna, Law, Shunsui, Shanks, Toji, Aizawa, Ichigo, Nico, Kirishima, Nanami, Worick, Fatgum, Draken, Choso & any other beautiful, big man I’m missing lol

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Upper Hand

Feyd Rahtha x Wife!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut, threeway? fourway? I lost count-way, orgy, oral, praise, dirty talk, light bdsm, Feyd ‘talks you thru it’ Rautha, light degradation, somnophilia (kind of, but it's something y/n specifically asked Feyd to make happen for her)

Words: ~ 1.3K

Description: Based on this request: “I seriously need a Feyd x his wife x his darlings-”

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

You whimper, shifting in your sleep and attempting to roll onto your side. You’re met with resistance, unable to move. A short panic bursts through you as your brain sluggishly processes what’s going on. The bed is unusually warm, and a tingling pleasure is building between your thighs. You breathe out a moan as a tongue prods at- 

“FEYD!” Your eyes snap open to yell for your husband. But when you sit up, you find Feyd sitting on your couch. He’s lounging, silky black robes open to expose his pale chest. Two of his darlings sit on either side of him, eyes taking in every detail of your predicament. You immediately whip your head to see who is eating if you out instead of your husband. Another darling is between your thighs, pausing her efforts on your cunt to cheekily grin. 

“Good morning, love.” Feyd says. “Well-I certainly hope it’s a good morning for you.” His gaze flits down to the darling who has begun kissing and lapping at your cunt. 

“Ah-” you gasp. “Feyd, you didn’t.” A shiver of thrill runs up your spine. A few weeks ago you had confessed to your husband one of your most well kept secrets. Feyd had listened to your desires, expression never changing. At the time, you were worried that he was disapproving of your wants or just didn’t care. 

“Happy anniversary,” he purrs. “Our darlings were so taken with your filthy, little, wet dream that I almost couldn’t make them wait until our big day.” The darling at your core hummed as she sucked your clit into her mouth. The wave of pleasure lights your every nerve on fire.

Another moan wrenches from your throat as the darling flicks at your bud with a practiced tongue. You try to say something, anything to thank your husband for spoiling you with such a surprise. But the nearing orgasm is enough to leave you unable to focus. 

Feyd groans, “what a sight. It’s almost like this is more a gift for me than it is for you.” Your head collapses back as you pant and gasp out. Hips grind down into the darling’s face and she falls into your rhythm. Your orgasm crashes down on you, and your legs shake as they clench around the darling’s head. “That’s it, pet.” Feyd purrs. “Come for us. Let me hear what a good job your darling is doing for you.”

You push at her head, trying to get a break as a wave of overstimulation hits. She relents, pulling away to kiss and nip your thighs. A moan of pain and pleasure slides from your lips at the feeling. “Don’t you dare leave a mark,” Feyd hisses from his perch. “You may be here for her, but you answer to me.”

The darling halts her movements, “yes na-Baron. Forgive me for overstepping.” 

He hums in response before turning his attention to the darlings at his side. “My darling wife looks tense, why don’t you both help her relax?”  They both slink towards the bed, hungry expressions and feral grins making you gulp.

The taller darling captures your lips in a kiss that is nothing short of teeth and aggression. She bites at your lip and steals the very air from your lungs. A hand slides up the back of your neck, winding into your hair before sharply pulling. You yelp as your head wrenches back and mouth falls open. The darling responsible for pulling at your hair immediately attacks your exposed throat, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive flesh. Gasps fall from your lips, and the taller darling steals them with each brutal kiss.

“I want to see every inch of my wife as she falls apart,” Feyd orders. “Spread her out for me.”

The darlings flit about, one pulling you to the edge of the bed while another sits behind you to prop your back up against her chest. Her hands lock behind your knees, pulling them up and spreading your legs wide. You whine in embarrassment and try to shut your legs, but her grip is firm. “Feyd, please,” you gasp, “I feel so exposed.”

“Why don’t we fix that then?” 

Feyd tosses the black ties of his robe to the darling in front of you. She hands on to the darling behind you, who ties it to blindfold you. Your hands move up to push the blindfold, but they’re caught by one of the darlings. She binds your hands with the second tie, pulling back your bound hands. Your back arches to accommodate as she loops them behind the head of the darling at your back. 

You’re utterly helpless to their grasping hands. With your legs held open, arms tied behind you, and sight taken….you’re completely at their mercy. You’re not sure whose hand slips between your spread thighs to tease your clit. The cool air makes your skin prickle, and you shiver at the chill and the sensation of a tongue running up your stomach and to your breast. One of the darlings, or perhaps Feyd, kisses at your breast, sucking your nipple into their warm mouth.

“You’re just the picture of desperation, my love.” Feyd’s voice rings from behind you. Or is he in front of you? “Cunt dripping, soaking the bed sheets.” His voice has moved, you’re unable to track him down. He has to be walking around the room to throw you off. You moan as a mouth replaces the fingers at your clit. “Three people at your disposal, and you’re still unsatisfied? Who knew na-baroness was such a greedy little whore.” 

You audibly moan at Feyd’s words. He knew how to press your buttons like no one else. “My love, please give me your cock. I need it,” you beg. 

“No.” he denies. “I have no intentions of fucking you tonight until everyone here has had their fill.” A hand slips down to join the mouth that torments your clit,two fingers sliding into your sopping cunt. It can’t be Feyd’s…they’re too soft, too short. Regardless, they fuck into you with an eagerness that leaves you breathless. 

The darlings hands roam your body; holding you in place, teasing, pinching, plucking, fucking. Your head swims as your orgasm builds. You’re unable to place whose hands belong to who. The only grounding force is Feyd’s voice as he paces, purring filthy praises as you tremble. 

“Are you close?” Feyd teases. “Don’t answer that–of course you are.” You whimper, the muscles in your thighs twitching as your peak builds. “Anyone could tell you’re on the edge,” he murmurs. “The way your breath hitches, the little pants and gasps of pleasure.” You whine at his words. He’s not wrong, you’re hanging by a thread. “I can practically see your cunt twitching around those fingers, trying to suck them deeper.”

Your back arches harder as you try to grind down onto the fingers fucking into your cunt. “Just let go, my love. Or does my helpless little pet need my permission?”

A whine slips out and you can practically hear the smile in Feyd’s voice. “Oh, isn’t that precious,” he purrs. “My filthy pet is trying to be good for me.” He goes silent for a minute and you turn your head to try and find him, despite the blindfold.

“Do it, love. Come for me.” His voice appears in your ear as he bites harshly into your neck. Your eyes roll back as you finally fall over the edge. The noises around you dim to a soft buzz as you seem to float away from it all.

You don’t even realize how much time has passed, but you find yourself blinking as light hits your eyes. “My love,” you tilt your head up to ask for a kiss, and your husband leans down to comply as he tosses your blindfold away. “That was perfect.”

“I’m glad,” he murmurs, “because you owe me two more.” 

NOTE: "Lacie, can you go two posts just writing about monogamous couples?" Apparently not! I'm making sure Y/N is BOOKED AND BUSY lmaooooo. But also apologies for all the changes on every post! I've been reworking the layouts lately. I have two more requests to finish before they open back up again! I can't wait to hear all the filthly, fun ideas ya'll have for me. ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @cant-even-think, @alisasyniashina, @clocksonthewall79, @cubehorse

Want to be added to a taglist? Click HERE!

[v3nusxsky]

Write the wandanat smut... for the sake of my mental sake I need your brilliantness (only write it if you want to)

Mommy’s toys 18+

*Authors note~ this one lives in my brain rent free. I’m so excited to give this idea from @wandaslittlebird and put my own spin on it. Also having a rough day so I had to reach into my wips to finish this off. *

Trigger warnings~ voyeur dom! Wanda dom! Nat x sub reader, voyeurism (new kink) edging, oral, strap on, sex toys, daddy Nat, mommy Wanda , degrading kink, praise if you squint?

Prompts~ see ask^^^^

Stumbling across voyeurism was never meant to affect Wanda this much. So much so it’s all she can think about. She knew her girlfriends would never be against trying something new in the bedroom but the possibility that Natasha or yourself might dislike this new found desire of hers still unsettled her. Wanda loved to play with you, that’s a given but something about having the power at her fingertips to control your pleasure just makes her feral. Focusing purely on watching every little movement as your pleasured by Nat under her commands. Even just thinking about it riles her up. That accidental discovery planting its strong roots of desire within Wanda refusing to let go.

Natahsa was the first one to notice the change in the witch. Subtle but to her trained senses she couldn’t miss it, you however remained oblivious. With you on a mission Natasha had the perfect chance to sit down with Wanda and discuss what was so evidently on her mind these days. Wanda couldn’t help but be relieved when Nat listened and even reminded her how much you love being guided through masturbation while they are out on missions. Neither you or Natasha would shame Wanda for wanting to explore and try something new. And it was from there that your loving wives hatched a plan to bring the desire to fruition.

Unknowingly you fell into their trap. Days stretching on where they let bratty comments slide, lulling you into a false sense of security. You continued to get bolder with each passing day, testing the carfully arranged boundaries in order to gain a slither of their attention. Both of your wives continued to ignore your bratty behaviour until Nat was called for a last minute intel mission. Wanda couldn’t help but give into her dominant side. Natasha would understand if she got you ready for the evening.

“Mommy” you whined again for fifth time in quarter of an hour. “Fine” you huffed at the silence that followed, “perhaps Carol would want me.” It was a low blow, you knew that. Wanda and Natasha are very protective of you, both having high levels of jealousy and dominance. “Brat” was all Wanda muttered in response before her magic reached out to restrain you. Red whips wrapping around your torso with a practiced ease. “Mommy! Let me go” you squealed in response with flailing limbs fighting against her tight magical hold.

“No.” A simple statement. One you weren’t expecting due to the previous comments being ignored. “Daddy” you whimpered pathetically continuing to squirm as her forest green eyes raked over your bound figure as she returned to your shared room. “Don’t daddy her dekta, you’ve been practically begging for this for days now, and now what do you say Nat, want to play with our brat?”

Magic provided the ease for Wanda to strip you bare with her mind and bind you to the bed. Fully on show for your lovers as the paid you no mind, wrapped in each others arms, lips entwining as you helplessly watched. “Welcome home Dekta” Wanda mumbled against Natasha’s lips, nimble fingers stripping her from her suit with a practiced ease. The way she would run her hands over the newly exposed skin was driving you wild. You want to touch! “Share mommy” you pouted before you even realised what you said. The pathetic whimper gained you a slither of attention as Wanda commanded Nat to shut you up.

Heaven. The way she plunged her skilled tongue into your aching core, the skill she had to trace intricate patterns on your throbbing clit always amazed you, her strong grip pinning your thighs open, allowing her to reacher deeper within you. Your slick covering her lower face as she ate you out like a starved animal. “Stop” Wanda demanded when your thoughts of cumming on her tongue got too loud. You weren’t to come till she said so. The annoyed whine you let loose when the red head removed herself from your aching cunt was magical. She should’ve recorded it.

“Here, use this on her, don’t let her come Dekta, I’ll reward my good girl if you can do this for me” Wanda murmured, handing Nat your favourite vibrating toy before bringing her in for another kiss, moaning as the taste of you seeped into the kiss before removing herself to sit on the chair on the other side of the room. “Put a show on for me baby. Show mommy how badly you want to come.”

Natasha is a skilled lover. There’s no doubt about it. The way she works you up so perfectly only to rip the pleasure away at the perfect time is maddening. Truly. The sounds clawing their way from your throat as you fought the magical bindings didn’t seem human. All while feeling the witches intense gaze on you. The way she was clearly taking in every little detail. If you had the upper hand you maybe would’ve commented she should take a picture. It would last longer. But right now the only thing you knew was the feeling of the vibration assaulting your puffy clit. “Please daddy! I wanna cum for you. Please daddy feel so good” you mewled feeling the beautiful pain of being on the edge once more. You just needed a bit more. A firm press of the toy would do. Only for the red head to remove everything instantly. “Fuck sake!” You practically screamed with frustration. This isn’t fair.

You couldn’t help but whine in frustration when you heard wands chuckling to herself and praising Natasha for a job well done .”Poor baby.” Wanda cooed teasingly, “Do you want daddy's cock, baby? Do you think you're ready for daddy to fuck you?" It didn’t occur to you, Natasha was being incredibly submissive to the witch, maybe you would’ve if your mind wasn’t clouded by the denial bestowed on you. “Hmm, I'll think I'll have daddy use the purple strap. The one with the- what did you call them- the 'mean ridges'? The ones that scrap against your special spot so perfectly?" Well you were fucked.

“And I think I want you on the bed just like this, on your hands and knees. I wanna watch those pretty little tears run down your face while daddy fucks you." Wanda freed your limbs before coming to position you where she wanted you, Nat seemingly following the instructions and began to strap up. The pure power play of Wanda being the only party clothed was certainly noted on your part. But the second you tried to pull at her shirt, she tutted at you like a disobedient puppy. “Leave it” was all she offered you before returning back to her seat, admiring your position as your chest heaved trying to calm down properly. She’d never seen you so riled up before from only one of them touching you.

“And don't even think about letting your arms give out. If can't see your pretty face, I'm gonna make daddy stop, understand?" She threatened as your arms began to shake with the weight of holding your body weight battling your desperation. “Wands, she’s leaking on the sheets” nat murmured eyes glued to your leaking pussy as she moved to find her place in Wanda’s scene fully strapped up. “Because she is a desperate whore for us Natty. Were you good for me? Hmm or do I need to check you set up right?” Being on show like this and being ignored wasn’t your favourite way to spend your time but if anything was clear, you were better to play along than fight back. “Did everything you asked Mommy” Nat teased back chuckling when you whined at the title.

“Go on Dekta, make her cry for me. Let mommy see her toys playing perfectly together.” Your new position allowed you to gaze into wands eyes as Nat pushed into your eager cunt. You couldn’t help but whimper, “daddy,” at the stretch she created. “Fuck so pretty, taking me so well Dekta” Natasha murmured appreciatively, eyes glued to watching you drag her deeper inside. “Please” you practically sobbed, desperate for more. Anything. Yet no matter how much you pleaded with her to move, Natasha waited for Wanda to demand it.

“Such a desperate slut, you haven’t worked out what’s going have you darling? Daddy won’t listen to you, she’s my toy who’s using my other toy for me. So be a good girl and take what we give you” Wanda muttered before nodding to her other lover. The way she slowly pulled out so just the tip of the faux cock was inside of your greedy little hole before slamming back into your warmth. “Oh Natty keep going our dumb little slut likes it rough” Wanda called chuckling as your mouth fell open into an “O” shape. The way her hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises as she drilled herself into you almost distracted you from watching Wanda’s hand sneak into the waist band of her trousers. Almost.

It didn’t take long for the pace to drive you insane, moaning like a common whore your arms gave out. “Out” she demanded and Natasha complied slipping from your messy cunt. “No no no! I’m sorry please no mommy” you sobbed struggling to push yourself back into position. Tears streaming down your cheeks at the continued denial. “Cry for me Dekta. So pretty when you cry for mommy. I did warn you. Cause a dumb little bitch can’t listen when she needs to be fucked dumb.”

This time there was no warning as she plunged into your core again, instantly falling back into her ruthless pace. You trained your gaze on Wanda, determined to follow her desire and enjoy the show. Your tears started to mingle with the slight drool leaving your mouth as you were pushed to the edge for whatever number it was tonight. “Please oh god mommy please make daddy make me cum. Wanna cum for mommy please” you sobbed, desperately wishing to get what you need. The orgasm you were given was nothing short of magical, your inner walls milking the dildo for all it was worth, Natasha grunting as she fell with you, continuing to dig herself deeper into you. Wanda was next, the sight and sound of her lovers enjoying themselves caused her to fall too, hips bucking against her own fingers. “Natty stop” Wanda murmured, taking in your absolutely spent body. The way you collapsed after riding the pleasurable waves was rather comical. “Want more” Nat grunted practically sulking as she slipped from your core, cock thickly coated in your slick. “Later, look at her Nat. She’s throughly fucked. Let her rest my love.”

Wanda gentled rolled you onto your back, stroking your sweat covered hair from your face, “can mommy clean our sweet girl up?” You knew you should reply, but all you could do is whine In response. So deep into bliss you forgot how to form words. Together your lovers worked on cleaning you up and settling in to bed, your head on Wand’s chest as Nat was the big spoon. “Good girl for us Yano that? Our best girl” was the last thing you remember hearing before sleep claimed you.

Word count~ 1884

[lycheeloving]

I now have a writing brain worm because of you.

Reading the shared darling au, with Captain Marvel viewing us as a parent or sibling made my heart just squeal from wanting to pinch his cheeks. (Auto correct used punch instead of pinch.)

Reading yandere Bat Fam, especially non-platonic yandere Bruce, made me think of how goopy this man is for his kids and how he'd probably be feral for a partner who also loves adopted children the same. (As evident from Selina, but with cats.)

So imagine with me if you will, we're a civilian in Fawcett. (don't know if I wrote that right.) You see a 12 year old boy around the city who's obviously homeless, but he tries to help as many people as possible.

You make food that's good cold, will last awhile without a fridge, or is so fresh it's still steaming for this kid. You give him blankets and clothes that are too big because it's better for him to grow into them. You don't know where he disappears to during a crisis and it's eating you up inside. So you offer your place in case of emergencies, or if he just wants to come by.

Eventually, he trusts us and slowly starts appearing every now and again. You already turned a guest room in your apartment into his room. It's like having an outdoor cat, but it's a kid. You offer getting him enrolled in school again, through the Internet so it's easier for his lifestyle and cause you want him to succeed even if it's not in your home. He gets so emotional that he asks if you could be his parent. You say that you'll try your best and work to get a foster license. Billy lays low so CPS won't try to take him again since this is a home he found and wants to stay.

Meanwhile, Batman found out that Captain Marvel was a 12 year old named Billy Batson. An orphan with no shelter, food, or clean clothes. Who runs from every foster home he's been in. He debates how he's going to either adopt the kid or is going to find a way to make him stop being a Hero until he's older.

Bruce is deep in thought when new information on Billy surfaces. He's registered as a student for online classes. Bruce sees this as the opportunity to get the kid in Gotham. By offering these online students and their parents the ability to tour Gotham Academy campus, all fairs paid as well as accomodations, on the chance they will win a full ride for the Academy of three of them. Room and board for said winning students and their parents offered jobs at Wayne Enterprises, as well. Not as anything major, unless you have the skills for it, but still a good job with amazing benefits.

Billy is mildly excited at the prospect of going to an actual school. And the possibility of you also getting a better job with better benefits. There's also the fact that, in the city of crime, it'd be easier for you to legally become a foster parent and/or adopt him!

You two decide to take the offer. Billy feels guilty for leaving Fawcett, even though there's no guarantee he'll win. He also made sure to ask others to check in on his city in case anything happens.

While on the tour, the group gets held hostage by a gang who's leader wants to become an official Rogue. One thing leads to another and you get shot through the right side of your chest while trying to shield Billy.

This leads Bruce to having his own trauma brought back up and the guilt of orchestrating all of this, even if it was to try to give a kid a better life. All the other parents back out of the 'contest' but you have to go to the hospital in Gotham. Bruce pays for all treatments and opens his home to Billy while the kid waits for us to recover, visiting every single day. Billy gets the scholarship on the basis he accepted it and was the only one willing to.

Bat Fam grow to think of Billy as a brother and, other than Bruce, kinda hope the kid's guardian doesn't make it or stays in a coma. Bruce on the other hand is wracked with guilt. He made Billy go through the same trauma he did.

He also becomes obsessive over you, given the fact that you acted as such a good parent. And that you were like him, trying to adopt a feral child that trusted no one. The more he looked into your background and your actions, the more he wanted to get to know you as a person.

When you finally wake up, it's to Billy tapping away at some school work. Chocking out, "Bil-ly?" Gets the tiny boy to launch at you.

You find out about everything and feel guilty that the billionaire paid your medical bills and that you don't know how to repay him back. Bruce uses this to his advantage and asks you to be a secretary. Obviously, while we're learning to walk again and have physical therapy, the best way to move around is a wheelchair. Thank goodness Bruce is already prepared for that.

It was so kind to let you and Billy into his home after the injury. Even the rest of Bruce's Brood have come to like you after a while. From corralling business men, making coffee, volunteering at animal a homeless shelters, trying pilates or aerobics, and learning a bit of ballet as you regain control of your body.

You're walking again! You have money from your nice job. You're looking into getting an apartment for you and Billy.

That last part most definitely doesn't fit anyone else's narrative of how it should be.

...did i write anything about Captain Marvel? 🤔 Or did you just mean my fics made you think of him? lol

EITHER WAY this was really good & cute, thanks! I'm glad I inspired you <3

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #33

MC: Eating chips with chopsticks is unironically Galaxy brain. Your fingers don’t get greasy and it lasts longer

Solomon: Fork

MC: Oh yeah I’m going to stab my crunchy foods and make them fall apart like an absolute absent minded dunce fool, clown, jester, like a monstrous moron, an idiot of Shakespearean proportions, a cretin

Diavolo: Uhm, you seem to forget that chips can also mean fries? And that’s probably what they were talking about haha

MC: I did not forget anything. I purposefully ignore the idea of using British vocabulary to do my part in helping it die out

•

Belphegor: An alarm clock except it’s set to every time

Leviathan: We touch

Solomon: I get

Diavolo: This feeling

•

Beelzebub: I was talking with my brothers yesterday and we decided the best way to own a guy who takes off his shirt to fight you is to pick his shirt up and put it on

Mammon: That might be one of the ultimate power moves

Simeon: Or pick it up and say “lift your arms up” and try to put it back on him

•

Leviathan: By day I appear to be no more than just an average run of the mill office worker, but when night time strikes! I’m crying alone in my bed

•

Solomon: I bought my friend an elephant for their room

They said “thank you”

I said “don’t mention it”

Mammon: Is there a joke here that everyone gets but I don’t?

Belphegor: Nobody tell them

•

Thirteen:

Them: why are you competing in our cooking show today?

Me: the government banned gladiatorial matches yet I yearn for glory in the arena

Solomon: I’m here to tell you gladiator matches are still a thing, pal

Thirteen: Hm. Interesting. The last time I tried to behead a man for prestige and the right to majesty, I was dragged out of the alleyway by three very unreasonable men of the law and I would like to know where you live

•

Diavolo: What do you call a snobbish criminal going down the stairs?

Lucifer: I don’t know. What?

Diavolo: A condescending con descending

Lucifer: Get out

MC: That was beautiful

•

Leviathan: Bitten by a radioactive cicada. Now all I do is sit in a tree and scream all day

•

Solomon: Self-care is slathering yourself in baby oil and sliding down the 7th lane in your local bowling alley so the mechanical pin setter will pick you up and take you to the forbidden place behind the bowling lanes where you can meet God but only on Tuesdays

•

Mammon: Security called me at work today and told me they saw me outside chasing a frog around on the security cameras. I wasn’t in trouble they just wanted to let me know they saw me, I didn’t catch him

•

Leviathan: Me wearing a blanket as a cloak, stirring my man’n’cheese in a dimly lit room: potion

•

Satan: When I say I’m “feral” it doesn’t always mean I’m angry, maybe I’m stupid and if you give me food you’ll earn my trust and I’ll follow you around

•

Asmodeus: Covered in blood for sexy reasons

Asmodeus: Also I just got stabbed

Asmodeus: Don’t suppose there’s anyone here willing to tenderly clean, stitch and bandage my wounds while calling me an idiot in an exasperatedly fond tone of voice is there?

•

Diavolo: Introducing a new alignment— chaotic lawful. I have a strict moral code but nobody can figure out what the hell it is

•

Mammon: My best feature is that I’m blindingly intelligent for about 30 seconds a day

Mammon: I do not get to choose which seconds, they are not consecutive

•

Satan: Okay I’m normal now I promise. Let me out of the case please

•

Leviathan: Power move: calling someone a coward in the middle of a fight while also running away from them as fast as you possibly can

Lucifer: Mammon ghost wrote this

Mammon: YO

•

Leviathan: “Are you a boy or a girl?”

I am the physical embodiment of suffering

[rose-gold-chains]

Pairing: Vessel x Female OC X IV

Word count: 2418

[WARNINGS: NSFW, pet names, unprotected sex, very light dom/sub, praise, pussy eating, blowjobs and aaaall the nice things]

Minors, do not interact!

First fic in the fandom, please be kind. Feedback is appreciated.

“Are you done?”

Vessel's harsh voice snaps you out of your trance, and you subconsciously shake your head a little, as if to force your brain to focus. 

“I-- what?”

He comes behind you, bends a little so you can feel his warm breath on your ear and your neck before he speaks, “you're looking at him like you're ready to drool.”

He nods his head towards IV's general direction, the boy blissfully unaware of what he's causing between the two of you, towel drying his face after a demanding show, a stubborn drop of sweat sliding down his bare, unpainted back. 

And you like Vessel, you do. 

Might even go as far as to say that you're falling in love with him. 

The banter is immaculate, the sex is mind blowing every time, and the care he pours on you after is something straight out of a romance novel, but- there's something in the way IV moves that is just too entrancing, too beautiful, too hot: his soft body, strong hands, warm voice, the way he's so effortlessly sensual, even though he's none the wiser most of the time. 

He has that something that makes you want to stare for hours on end, makes you want to imagine, to… 

Vessel's arm comes around your torso, pulling you towards his chest, effectively caging you in, “he's pretty, isn't he?”

You can feel his calm heartbeat reverberating against your ribcage.

“I-- yeah, I guess.”

“Bet he'd be even prettier on his knees for us.”

That took an unexpected turn.

“What are you saying, Ves?”

“I'm not saying anything, just picturing a scene.”

××

After the brief conversation with Vessel, the image of IV kneeled in between your thighs as Vessel holds his head in place is constantly plaguing your thoughts: the velocity at which it has heat pooling right at your gut is unlike anything you've ever experienced before, making you feral in a matter of seconds as soon as it pops into your brain. 

And it does pop into your brain a lot. 

Everytime IV walks into your line of vision, more or less. .

It's not helping that Vessel hasn't done anything to take the edge off: you haven't been properly fucked in days, and you're slowly but surely slipping into madness. 

It takes you three more days before you snap: Vessel has been riling you up all day, whispering filth in your ear and making empty promises, touching you in ways that he knows make your skin tingle with lust, and then never doing anything about it.

“Vessel, we need to talk,” your voice is higher than you would like, but it's not something you're willing to overthink now, “right now."

“Can it wait? I'm headed out with the boys for a pint in a min.”

“No, it cannot wait.”

He turns is back to you and walks towards a free room, closing the door behind him when you're inside as well, “so? What's up love?”

The fact that he's so collected while you're slowly going out of your mind almost makes your blood boil, “I wanna know why you're not-- why we're not--”

He smirks, the bitch, “why we're not what, angel?”

“Why are you going out instead of fucking me! You've been an absolute tease the whole day and now you're just-- going out for a pint? You haven't fucked me in days, I'm-- I have needs!!”

“Oh, that's what's going on, huh? My baby wants to be stuffed nice and full?”

He's walking towards you at a slow pace, eyes dark and focused, and you feel yourself walking backwards towards the unmade bed behind you- not quite cowering away, but more anticipating what's to come. 

The line of his cock is faintly visible through his trousers and it's tantalizing, making your mouth water and your legs weak, “...please, Ves.”

When the back of your knees hits the bed you know you're done running, so you let yourself fall with a soft thud on the rumpled sheets, your thighs spreading slightly on their own accord. 

“Look at you, desperate little thing that you are,” his voice is honey and charcoal, wraps your brain in a spell, “I'm gonna give you exactly what you need, baby. Just wait here a second, yeah? Undress yourself while I go grab some stuff for us.”

You nod dumbly, and as soon as the door clicks shut again, you make a quick work of removing your clothes, neatly folding them to the side because you know he wants it that way and you're not about to make mistakes when you're finally about to get what you've been needing for so long. 

You're naked on the bed when the door opens up again, sitting with your back to the wall patiently just the way you know he loves, but the scene before you is very different than what you were expecting: sure, Vessel is there with and arm full of supplies - a bunch of towels, a few bottles of water, your favourite vibrator, a mostly full bottle of lube - but it's not the only thing he brought with him. 

Behind him is IV, looking like an absolute vision: he's wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs and a silver chain around his neck and his head is hung low, like he hasn't had permission to look anywhere but his feet. 

“Close your mouth angel, it's impolite to stare so openly,” Vessel's voice is calm, soothing. 

“IVy, love, go kneel near the bed, yeah? Head down, hands where I can see them.”

He follows orders in silence, kneeling prettily to the side of the bed, eyes glued to the floor, hands neatly resting on his thighs.

“Told you he'd look so pretty kneeling for us.”

IV doesn't speak, but the blush that spreads across his face and chest is something akin to art. 

The bed dips slightly as Vessel gets on, crawling to you, capturing your mouth in a kiss. You moan deep from your core as he caresses your body, his fully dressed figure encompassing your much smaller frame as he explores your skin like it's his first time. 

He travels down your body with his mouth, kissing, biting, leaving faint marks for his eyes to rake over and admire, “you're so gone already, baby, so eager for it. What do you need right now?”

It's a simple question, but finding the answer has never been so hard: you need him to fuck you like he's starved for it, need to come over and over until you're too sore and tired and sated to walk. But you also need IVy to put his hands on you, his mouth, his cock, in any capacity Vessel would allow. 

“Need to come,” is all that comes out of your mouth. 

“How do you want to come? Need me to give you options?”

“Please.”

“So, I could fuck you with that pretty purple vibrator you love very much, and then me and IVy could clean up the mess you make. That's option one. Option two would be making you come with my mouth, and then have him do the same. Option three.. I could stuff you full of my cock over and over until you cry, and then cum inside you. And lovely IVy here could clean it all up for us, and make you come again with that pretty mouth of his.”

As soon as option three leaves his mouth, your body has an instant reaction: you whine, high and desperate, legs falling wide open, back arching, “please, please, please!”

“Do you want him to watch as I fuck the sense out of you?”

“Please.”

“Do you want him to touch?”

“I-- yes.”

“You heard her, IV, come up on the bed. Speak, so you can thank her for being so kind.”

He stands up, and his thick cock tents the front of his briefs. 

Now that he's allowed to look at you, his stare is so intense it might as well be burning holes into your skin, “thank you for allowing me to watch you, to touch you. I promise I will be doing whatever I can to make you feel good-- I- thank you so much.”

“Such a sweet boy,” Vessel cups IV's face gently, pecks his lips once, “so polite,” their kiss deepens as they both tower above you on the bed, hands wandering over each other, grabbing hair and caressing smooth skin, and it's truly a sight for sore eyes, an honour to be able to witness something so soft, so intimate, yet so feral and animalistic. 

××

The moment Vessel is undressed and sliding into you feels like clarity after days of fog, it feels like coming home, it feels like being pieced back together. 

And to make the experience even better, IV is there. Once the dam has been broken, he can't help but touch you all over: his hands are calloused yet soft, strong yet delicate, and just from this you can tell he's a generous lover - he takes note of every noise and movement, repeating those that elicit the best reaction just so you can feel all the pleasure. He touches Vessel, too, tugs on his hair, watches as his cock disappears into you over and over - he remains obedient, though, never speaking out of turn, never touching himself even though it's crystal clear he's been dying to, cock struggling against the cotton of his briefs and leaving a sizeable wet patch where the tip is. 

He twists one of your nipples just as Vessel pushes into you just right, and the first orgasm is ripped out of you, crashing into your bones like a tsunami, making you shake, making the world blinding for a hot second. 

“Good girl, look at you. You needed this so much.”

Vessel never stops his thrusts, keeps chasing the same high, hips snapping fast and hard enough to make the bed shake, eyes shifting from your sweaty face to IV's and back. 

“You look breathtaking like this,” it's the first time IV has dared to speak, apart from the occasional moan, and the reverence in his tone is something that would make even the strongest man, weak. 

He's right, though: Vessel looks positively sinful like this, skin glistening and brows furrowed in concentration, chasing his orgasm, hair sticking in all different directions from the sweat and both your hands and IV's messing with it. 

It takes him a few more minutes to finally, finally reach his high, the pace brutal and punishing as you lie there, sore and oversensitive, letting him use your hole as a makeshift fleshlight, merely a tool, a means to an end. 

When his cock twitches violently inside your abused hole, you know he's done for- a pained moan is ripped out of his guts and he's coming, painting your insides white, hiding his face in the crook of your shoulder as he tries - and fails - to catch his breath through an orgasm that seems to last forever. 

“IV, love,” Vessel's voice is so hoarse it almost sounds painful, “com'ere.”

IV, the goodest boy that he is, shuffles towards Vessel's outstretched arms, and lets himself fall into his chest, effectively taking the spot you occupied until a few minutes prior. 

“You've been so good, so patient. So obedient.”

IV whines low in his throat, and if you thought he was attractive before, seeing him so pliant despite his painfully hard cock can only solidify that belief. 

“You submitted to me so, so beautifully, and I feel like you deserve a reward. Clean her up, make her come, and I'll do the same to you.”

He guides IV onto his back, then guides you to stand right on his face, spread open and vulnerable, facing towards his feet. And then, when he shimmies his way down the bed and slides IV's soaked briefs off, it clicks: you're about to watch your boyfriend suck cock for the first time, while you're being eaten out. 

Funny how life works, sometimes. 

The feeling is something you've never felt before: sure, you've had people go down on you - Hell, Vessel makes you sit on his face as often as he can just because he enjoys taking you apart so much - but IV is methodical with it: his tongue laps at you the moment you're close enough, and his arms are anchored to your thighs, pushing you down, effectively cutting most of his air flow as he moans at the taste of you mixing with Vessel's cum dripping out.  

He encourages you to rock back and forth, to set your own pace, but he's still strong enough to make sure you don't slip away for even a second, that you have no reprieve from the constant onslaught of white hot pleasure his skilled mouth is inflicting. 

IV's rhythm only falters the moment Vessel takes his cock in his mouth: he's been hard for so long he can't help but buck his hips up as best as he can, and the whines that are ripped out of him, muffled by your flesh, reverberate against your core. 

It's a chain reaction of lust and pleasure, of mouths sucking and tongues teasing and hands gripping hard enough to bruise. 

Vessel sucks IV down with ease over and over, cheeks hollowed and eyes closed like he's enjoying every second of it, savoring every noise IV makes and watching you get your fix as well. 

You're so distracted by the mix of sensations that your orgasm sneaks up on you, merciless and powerful, making your thighs shake and your body slump forward when the worst of it is gone. 

The taste of your orgasm is enough to send IV tumbling over the edge as well, nails digging marks into your thighs, as Vessel swallows every last drop he has to give, “fuck-- oh my fucking God!”

××

Vessel, the sweet, gentle soul that he is, takes it upon himself to clean you and IVy up as best as he can - never failing to whisper sweet nothings to you both as you collect yourselves, making you both eat something and drink plenty of water. 

“Thank you for doing this for us, Ives.”

“Thank you for trusting me with it, with her. It was-- fuck. Just--”

“Yeah,” is all you can say, and it comes out as a satisfied sigh, “it was.”

“Should we make it a weekly thing?”

And if Vessel isn't complaining, who are you to say no? 

[elsfairy]

✧ ˚. SERENE ⎯ ABBY ANDERSON

Abby is so sloppy & messy when it comes to eating you out, especially after a hard day on patrol. having you sprawled under her, whimpering and gripping the bedsheet tightly with your free hand, the other tangled in her blonde locks, gripping on for dear life. your shaky legs over her shoulder, and she’s so loud. moaning, and growling against you, damn near making out with your cunt, keeping you down & still on the bed with nowhere to go. your slick and her spit is shamelessly running down her chin, to absorbed in the way you taste to care about how she looks. she’s got both her hands perched on your hips, moving up to grip your tits in her much larger palms to give them the same attention, pinching your nipples between her rough fingers, enjoying the sounds she tears from your parted, puffy lips. loves the way your legs tighten around her head, how your hand grips the back of her head, keeping her there & where you need her the most. her heart swells with pride at your little gasps for more, at the way your body twists & trembles under hers because only she can have you like this, see you this needy and whiny. she is always pussy drunk on you, no matter the time or day. she would have you naked, sprawled out on her bed, and begging all the time if she didn't have such a busy schedule. she needed every last drop of you, and then some. “c’mon baby, keep making all those pretty sounds but let me have more. missed you so much today”

yes, she’s fucking feral for eating you out, but when you sit on her face? baby girl is losing control. there is nothing she loves more than to have & feel your thighs tighten against either side of her head, fingers threading and pulling at her hair. the grip she had on your hips is always tight, almost iron to keep you in your place and take everything she gives you like a good girl. if her hands are still, then they are moving around so much that it sends your head into overdrive, feeling them running up and down your sides, to your ass where she leaves random slaps on your plump flesh, squeezing tightly just to hear your pretty sounds. Abby loved the way your own hands would hold onto the ones she had on your thighs, or hips just to feel that extra close to her, rocking your hips a little hard against her tongue, those pretty sounds leaving your lips so effortlessly just like you know she loves. if there was something else she loved more though, it would be guiding your hips, helping fuck yourself against her tongue harder, giving you whatever you wanted. if you needed it, she was going to give it to you. she loved to give you every single thing you ever wanted. her own words once before were always buried at the top of your brain “If you need something, take it. fuck yourself on my fuckin’ tongue”

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our girl – Part 7

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader

Summary: Azriel and Cassian go feral trying to find you.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Violence, torture

<<&lt; Part 6

Cassian was pacing, the roar in his mind loud enough to miss Feyre winnow into the room, her arm wrapped around an elderly fae, his bark-like skin unmistakable. 

“Finbark,” Tamlin greeted, moving to help the male into a seat as he leant into his walking staff. Finbark had aged during the war, and it was clear the long distance winnow from Spring to Summer was not easy to endure in his condition.

Azriel kept close to Cassian, but unlike his mate, his rage had fixed him to an icy steel. Arms folded at his chest, he was beyond pleasentries, unable to greet Finbark as Tamlin had. Not while his mate was still missing, not when he wasn't sure who or how many he’d kill to find you. 

The marbled room before him was filled with anxious tension. Tarquin had opened his home, with promise that his recruits had a lead on Y/N’s location. Finbark, Tamlin, Cassian, Feyre, Rhys, even Helion had come to support his friend. And while Mor and Amren worked with Azriel’s spies at the border, the rest of them were here, readying themselves for the essential intel to start scouting for his mate.

It was almost impossible to resist the urge to take to Autumn skies, to start ripping the heads of any guard or spy or missionary who served in Beron’s court. That instinct was outweighed by only one thing - Y/N’s safety. Start slitting throats, and Beron could easily follow the trail of blood back to them, and punish you for it. Especially in the ruthless, unforgiving manner that itched at both their limbs. It was better to wait for this lead - both he and Cassian had agreed. Better to know where to start the carnage before they set they world ablaze. 

Excruciating minutes had turned to hours, and both Cassian and Azriel were at their wits end. 

“Where is it, Tarquin?” Cassian gritted, his gaze an other-worldy darkness, unbound magic as bright as rubies twining his limbs. “You promised a lead.”

Tarquin’s face was a gruelling seriousness, one that Feyre herself had never seen. “Calm yourself, friend. It is coming.”

But that wasn't nearly enough to satisfy Cassian’s urge, so he turned from the male, driving his fist into a marble pillar, the thunderous smack silencing the room. Feyre threw Tarquin a sorry look. 

A maid entered then, hurrying to deliver a letter to her High Lord on a silver platter, before fleeing on quick feet – a wise move. 

Tarquin swallowed thickly while reading, not a breath shared amongst the rest of the room. 

“We have the name of the Inn, and the last known sighting of Y/N.”

Azriel’s voice was deadly. “We already knew that.”

He had snatched the letter before Tarquin could respond. He scanned it with quick eyes before raising them to Cassian. “This is different. Her last known sighting was underground.” 

Cassian’s eyes fluttered with rage. Naturally, Beron had chosen a concealed, subterranean lair to cloak his cruelty, making it even more challenging to locate his mate.

“It says here the entrance to the dungeons are glamoured, and are bound to an ancient magic.”

All eyes were on Rhys then. “Not even my magic can unbind that,” he said disappointedly, the tremble in his hands returning once more. Beron was a slimy bitch, and the thought of sinking his talons into his neck danced around in his mind.

“Then how the hell are we to find her?” Tamlin urged. 

“Hounds,” Azriel answered, looking over the letter once more. “Provided here are coordinates, where a pack will be provided to us for the search.”

“What in the Mother?” Rhys frowned, running a hand over his face.

“Who wrote that letter, Azriel?” Feyre asked, a knowing itch scratching at her brain. 

“It’s signed from Eris Vanserra.”

There were a few drawn breaths, and then silence. 

“It is a trap,” Helion said plainly. 

“Perhaps,” Feyre countered. “Perhaps not.”

“A trap would not be so wiling, so exposed,” Tamlin added. “I believe it is true.” He cast a look at Feyre, who nodded in agreement.

“And we are to risk everything on assumption alone?” Helion countered the male.  “When was the last time a Vanserra was celebrated for telling the truth?”

Cassian wasn't listening to their exchange, the General’s mind ticking as a strategy formed – for this was as good as war.

“Soldiers,” he said with a distant look, eyes finding his mate. “We need soldiers.” Be it a trap, he didn't care, between he, Azriel and the others, nor Eris’s or his phonies stood a chance. 

Azriel nodded in agreement. “Rhys, call to the camps. We need Illyrians.”

Rhysand didn't hesitate. “How many?”

“Hundreds.”

Helion shifted uncomfortably. “How many males do you plan to storm Autumn with? Power is one thing, but bring an army with you? You’ll start a gods damned civil war, right here in Prythian. Over a girl.”

Even as a High Lord, Helion stood no hope against Azriel’s strength, not as those siphons that usually kept his strength at bay now consumed him, pulsing in his veins, igniting his eyes with brilliant blue. 

Marble cracked as Azriel threw the him into a pillar, a snarl curled at his lips, canines inches away from his neck. 

“If you think my girl isn't worth waging a war for, you’re wrong. I’ll watch the whole of Prythian burn if she is harmed, and then some.”

Helion glanced around desperately, searching for an ally. But between Cassian’s fuming glare, Feyre and Rhys’s cold as night, and Tamlin’s own chest panting, he came up short. Even Tarquin showed no remorse.

“Please,” Finbark croaked from where he sat, his hands shaking as they rested on his staff. “Please, time is against us, we mustn’t waste it.”

Azriel withdrew at that, fingers flexing as he fought against violent urges. Cassian moved, his hand closing over Azriel’s scarred one as blue mixed with red.

Tamlin eyed the interaction curiously, before finding the letter from Eris on the floor, reading it over himself.

“The letter accounts for two females held in the dungeons,” he stated, slightly confused. 

Feyre blinked, her eyes fixed with Rhys as she paled even further. Forcing a breath, she moved those grey eyes to Helion. “When was the last time you saw the Lady of Autumn?”

Helion blinked, his brow then furrowing at Feyre’s suggestion. It had been longer than usual, he had counted the days. But he assumed she was keeping hidden, playing into their secret like she had always done. His hand intuitively found his chest then, rubbing at a gnawing ache, and panicked eyes found Feyre’s.

“Months,” he whispered, his chest tightening with every breath.

“That ache in your chest, friend. Has it not been a few months since you confided of your pain to me?” Feyre added.

Helion’s eyed widened. How could he have been so senseless? 

Pain turned to fear turned to an all-consuming rage, and feral eyes found Azriel and Cassian. 

“What was that you said of an army?”

————

The lethal point of that sword pierced through your clothing, its icy steel pricking at your skin, causing an immediate, searing pain. And oh gods, did it hurt. 

Your body, attuned to the peril through the bond, convulsed within, as if desperate to break free from your chest cavity, urging you to fight, protect, or flee as far as the gods allowed. In your anguish, screams and sobs erupted, fuelled by the intense desire to kill Beron, to snap his neck with your bare hands for even daring to harm you and your mates. Yet, the harsh reality held you at his mercy.

“STOP! I BEG OF YOU!”

Beron’s attention snagged to that voice beyond your cell, the weapon stilling as it lay pierced within your chest, stuck at your left breast.

“Please, Beron, I beg of you. I’ll rid of Helion, I’ll stay by your side. For the sake of the Mother, do not hurt this girl!”

Beron’s lips curled into a sickening smirk. “How brave of you, Seraphina my love,” he toyed. “How brave you become when finally faced with consequence.”

You had only a few seconds, but you used it to the best of your ability, calling on your power, begging it to fill your veins and swarm your skin. Your anger was of no question, but you were weak, and were only met with a faint tingle at your fingertips.

Cold eyes found you again, and you whimpered. 

Beron chuckled at the panic in your eyes. “Ah, sweet Y/N. Are you feigning fear, or do you really care for the bond?” He drawled closer. “Why would you have tossed them aside if you care for them so, hm?” 

His eyes darkened as he grappled at the sword again. “Try not to move,” Beron gritted,  teeth bared and he pushed with two hands now.

Your own howls and screams, Seraphina’s pleas and cries, Beron’s grunts as deadly power coursed through him – it was a hideous symphony of torture.

From deep within your chest cavity, death clashed with life, and so began the war within your heart. 

————

Azriel, Cassian and Rhys flew overhead, circling the location where Eris instructed to meet, scanning for traps while Rhys’s magic worked to unravel any glamours. 

Tamlin, Hellion and Feyre scouted from the ground, Tamlin in beast form, Feyre’s water wolves sniffing out the promised hounds.

They had left Tarquin to the border where the Illyrian army began to arrive, Mor and Amren with them. They would try to negotiate with Beron’s own armed forces while waiting on Cassian or Azriel’s word to strike.

Azriel spotted him first, ginger hair almost disguised amongst the matching tree tops. But it seemed the Autumn Princeling was true to his word, a litter of dogs leashed in his hand with enough apprehensiveness to be sensed from the skies . 

Three thuds were sounded as the males landed, stalking toward Eris with violent determination - the kind that sent most running. He spun quickly at the rustle of leaves, gulping at the three water wolves and Tamlin now prowling towards him, Feyre and Helion a few paces behind.

“Where is she?” Cassian spoke, his voice harsh and quick. 

“I don't know,” Eris replied, his own face grave. One of his hounds whined, and others pulled at their leads, desperate to start scouting. 

Cassian and Azriel shared a growl, unsatisfied with the answer. 

“No tricks Eris,” Rhys warned. “It wouldn't end well for you or your court.” And he meant it, because as he spoke, Mor sent images of the Illyrian soldiers now in formation at the borders of Summer and Spring, ready for their word, ready to tear the land apart to find you. 

“I am true to my word,” Eris replied, pulling slightly at the band of leather leashes in his hands. “I have trained these hounds in secret, since I first suspected of my father’s conspiring.”

“What you wrote of your mother, is it true?” Helion asked, voice desperate as an array of curved weapons and twining knives glinted in the sun – so unique to his own court.

Eris nodded morbidly, tears pricking at his waterlines. “I have let this go on for too long.”

No one offered him any comfort.

“And what do you get out of this, Eris? What is it you want in return?” Feyre had to ask, the lesson’s Alis had taught her all those years ago ringing through her ears. Make no bargain, help no one without knowing what the price might be. 

“This is beyond my own desires. My mother hasn't been seen in months, I suspect Beron has taken her. If she’s there, is she is… alive,” Eris had to pause and swallow before he could continue. “See that she is returned safely, and I will make it worth your while.” 

Looks were exchanged, before Rhysand nodded. “Will you be joining us?”

Eris’s eyes dropped, shameful shoulders slumping. “If he finds out I helped you, he’ll hurt me in unimaginable ways.”

“You coward,” Hellion spat, pushing past to grab at the Princeling. “You’ve known for months, Seraphina is down there, she–”

An outburst of agonising roars pierced through the forest, Azriel and Cassian falling to their knees, red and blue winking as they clutched at their hearts. 

“WHAT? What is it?” Feyre panicked, forcing Azriel up by his shoulders, scanning him over with wild eyes. 

Rhys was on Cassian, in his mind, digging frantically. “I don't know, I can't see past-”

Their screams intensified, their wings flexing and twitching with pain. Cassian howled as he clutched at the grass, and Azriel swore, barely holding himself up. 

“The-the bond!” he gasped. “Make it stop!”

Eyes were on Eris then, and he looked back, bewildered. “I don’t- I don't know what he’s doing! I don't know anything!”

As quickly as it had begun, the pain left their bodies, leaving the males sagged and trembling on the ground.

“We must move quickly,” Hellion murmured, eyeing Eris with distaste once more. 

Eris was already unleashing the hounds who began to kick and whine, desperate for their command. 

“Please,” he begged to Helion, his voice a mere whisper. “Please, bring her back.”

Cassian and Azriel had recovered quickly, forcing themselves to stand. They shared a quick nod, ensuring that the other was alright, flexing their wings and readying to take the skies once more. Whatever was happening, time was against them.

“Seek,” Eris commanded with a wavering voice, and the pack leapt into a sprint.

Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand launched to the sky, Tamlin heeding the hounds on all fours, and Feyre on Helion’s pegasus – an army of their own. 

Together, they would find them, or die trying.

————

You were loosing sense of reality, delirious with pain. You begged for it to stop, and then prayed for it to stay, to know that your bond wasn't dead, not yet. 

You were in and out of consciousness, your body blinking awake as Beron cut at that tether ever so slowly, not allowing you weaken or lay unconsciousness for too long. No, he wouldn't grant you that peace - he needed you alive, to withstand the torture, to survive, so his Seraphina could serve as his slave, mateless and obedient for the rest of her days.

“Stay with me now,” he gritted, slowly, oh so mind-numbingly slowly, forcing the rapier deeper into your chest, the bond whipping and lashing as magic clashed within, demanding warmth, demanding life. 

Your throat strained as you tried to scream, to exert just some of the pain that coursed through you – but no sound came out, your voice long lost amongst your cries and screams hours ago. 

Beron had assured you he was not trying to be cruel – that this careful extraction, and no matter how painful, he’d ensure you’d survive. Then you can die, for all I care - he had claimed.

As you thrashed, your mind flashed with memories of your mates, as if the bond or cauldron itself was showing you what was worth fighting for. Azriel and Cassian - each more handsome than the other. One of them wild, emotional, passionate and heated, the other a perfect match of icy calm, selfless, unyielding and determined. 

And you were a part of them, their anchor, the vessel where red met blue. You were what made them whole. And both of them flawed - oh so flawed. But their love was undeniable, unconditional, stubborn and powerful. You could see that now. You wanted them, you needed them, and if Beron was to break this bond, you did not want the life that awaited you.

So you fought with the little energy you had left, forging the bond to a weapon of sorts, sweat trickling as you writhed and grunted, your heart an open battlefield. 

Beron let out a frustrated roar, his rapier met with another bout of resistance, your bond swelling to provide a wall of magic he would again need to pierce. But it was draining him too – of magic, of whatever part of himself he had given to create such a tool. His son, Lucien, oh gods – but what else?

Lips curled with distaste, he pulled his hands back, wiping the sweat from his brow, wiping those sinful hands on his pants. “Let’s take a break, shall we?”

Flashes then, more memories. Tree tops, red ones, and distant yelping. You could not see them, but you knew that sound, heavy leathery skin flapping, pushing air under muscle. Your mates - the rhythm of their wings a lullaby. These weren't memories – they were visions. Your mates were coming for you - you only prayed they would find you in time. 

You hadn’t realised you had faded out of consciousness yet again, your head lolling before Beron grabbed you by the chin, forcing to wake. “Ah ah Y/N,” he grinned darkly. “Don’t give up on me now.”

Your only response was a whimper, an attempt of a beg left hoarse and unheard as Beron took aim of the weapon, ever so cruelly forcing it deeper into your heart chamber. 

—————

The auburn tree tops of the Autumn forest did little to soften either Azriel or Cassian’s landing. Their hands ripped at their leathers, clawing for their chest, to stop the phantom pain that carried through the earth somewhere below. 

Feyre and Rhys halted their search, sprinting to help the males, scanning them inside and out for the third time in the past few hours. 

Cassian held a palm up before Feyre could haul him to his feet, sweat trickling down his face as he panted, resting on hands and knees as the cuts from the branches were quick to heal. 

Rhys had just about eased the pain from Azriel’s mind, but there was no point, as it had disappeared as quickly as it did the other times. 

With a firm hand still pressed to Azriel’s chest, Rhys threw a panicked look around him. “I don't have enough magic to shield you and search for Y/N at the same time.”

Azriel shook his head. “Do not–,” he panted. “– for one second, spend your magic on us.”

Rhys’s face was grave, but he gave a small nod. 

Up ahead, a collection of yelps sounded, Eris’s hounds now excited and frantic.                                                                           

“Come quick,” Hellion called, the hounds leaping over one another, pawing and whining at the ground, his pegasus flaring it’s nose, wings tussling anxiously.

The group inspected the spot littered with dried leaves, a repetitive stretch of ground indifferent to any other area they had passed. 

“There doesn't appear to be anything here,” Feyre murmured, running her hand through the dirt. “It’s just ground.”

“Do we dig?” Rhysand offered as Tamlin neared, pawing at the ground with bear-like claws.

But instinct had taken over the males that were doubled over not moments before. Their eyes matched in brightness, their hearts panting in their chest. Everything about this spot, chanted to them – yes, yes, yes. 

They met each others gaze then, nostrils flaring. 

“I feel it too,” Helion said to them with a pointed nod, his own chest heaving. 

Azriel raised a scarred fist, shadows twining with raw, flowing power as he plowed a fist to the ground. 

And was met with a thud. 

Casting a quick look back at Cassian who nodded for him to continue, Azriel threw another punch, and another, until the ground beneath them fell through, leaves and dirt that had once been now disappeared as the glamour was broken through. Instead, an entrance was revealed, a ladder leading into the dark and damp depths of Beron’s hidden lair. 

Cassian didn't wait to jump straight through the hole, landing on fists and knees with a powerful thud. 

The passageway led both left and right, an ominous dripping could be heard in the distance, the only light offered by Cassian’s magic and the opening above.

Before could Azriel leap in, Feyre grabbed his arm. 

“We need to keep searching for other entrances, ones that might get us closer to Y/N.”

Azriel nodded wordlessly, quickly meeting the eyes of the rest of the party. 

“Be smart,” Rhysand warned. It would be hard advice to adhere to, each of them knew. 

Azriel didn't wait to watch the rest of the group leave, Feyre and Rhysand in one direction, Tamlin and Hellion the other. He jumped just as Cassian had, following that thrumming, beating instinct, the frayed and weathered tether calling faintly from within.

Cassian nodded in one direction, Azriel agreeing to the other. They would split up to find you - it was the only way.

“Be safe,” Azriel grumbled.

“You too,” the War General replied, his voice predatory and lacking warmth.

Without their siphons, Azriel and Cassian’s magic was tempered, raw, unbound and wild. It twitched at their wings and hissed at their skin, because even it understood it was finally time to start paying some dues. 

“We’re coming baby,” Cassian muttered under his breath, before the both of them turned their heels, picking up into a jog. 

————

The first guards Azriel encountered hadn't so much as drawn their next breath before he snapped both their necks. And the next two after that. 

Despite Rhys’s advice, he wasn’t being smart at all. He should question them, use his shadows to choke out any answers of how to get to Y/N that much faster. But there was a fierceness in him, one that moved his limbs and fuelled his breath before he could consider rationale. He hoped it had a purpose, that predatory instinct. 

Azriel had reached the next clearing within minutes – a storeroom of sorts, guards armed, their weapons glowing in the light of the torches aflame at the walls. 

Three of them died instantly, blue magic seeping through their nostrils and mouth, planting death from the inside out. The fourth was restrained by shadows, Truthteller firm against his throat as his body was pulled flush against Azriel, canines at his ear. 

“Where is she?” he hissed.`

“You’re too late,” the guard gulped, wise enough to not fight and risk pushing himself further into the blade. 

Azriel’s unsatisfied growl rippled through the room, contents in storeroom rattling. 

“It’s true. Even if you reach her soon, you–”

A final breath was knocked from his chest as the satisfying crunch of a broken neck filled the room, Azriel letting his lifeless body fall to the floor. He had told him what he needed to know – he was getting closer. That was good enough for him.

Azriel moved through the storeroom like a shadow, his eyes scanning for the way forward. His instincts screamed at him, urging him to find her quickly, to silence the haunting calls that echoed in his mind.

As he advanced through the next passage, he caught a glimpse of movement behind a stack of crates. Azriel's senses heightened, and he summoned his shadows, enveloping himself in an inky cloak. He moved silently, like a wraith, closing in on the source of the disturbance.

A hushed conversation reached his ears. Guards were discussing a secret passage that led deeper into the dungeon, a hidden route that only the elite were privy to. Hazel eyes flecked with blue darkened with a mixture of determination and desperation.

Without warning, Azriel emerged from the shadows, Truthteller in hand, its blade shimmering with an ethereal light. The guards startled, their eyes widening as they faced the deadly Shadowsinger. Azriel didn't waste time with words. Just like the others, he used his shadows to incapacitate them, rendering them helpless on the cold stone floor.

His gaze focused on the guard who seemed to be the most knowledgeable. Azriel's eyes locked onto his with an intensity that sent shivers down the guard's spine.

"Where is the passage? Tell me, and I might spare your life," Azriel demanded, his voice low and threatening.

The guard hesitated, conflicting fear etched across his face. The seconds stretched agonisingly, the tension in the room palpable. Finally, with a defeated sigh, the guard revealed the secret of the hidden passage, his words a reluctant admission that pointed Azriel in the right direction.

Azriel sheathed Truthteller, leaving the guard to choke on his shadows instead. He vanished into the darkness, unflinching at the choking sounds he left behind. He’d find Beron’s men in hell, and kill them there too. 

The calls in his mind grew louder, a symphony of urgency that spurred him onward.

As he moved through the hidden corridors, Azriel couldn't shake the fear that clawed at his heart. Time was running out, and he couldn't afford to lose you to the darkness that threatened to consume them all.

————

Cassian’s rage was brewing by the second.

He was yet to encounter anything but the unyielding, endless passageways of Beron’s underground labyrinth. He wanted to find men - to start killing, to save his fucking mate. Hell, he’d even take a torch of light at this stage. 

But the only hint of life was his own breathing, ruby red magic providing much needed light. Damp air clung to his skin, and the distant echoes of his hurried footsteps reverberated off the cold, stone walls. The calls of his mate, distant yet urgent, fueled the fire within him.

It was that other worldly sense - the one that revealed itself along with the bond - that stopped in in his tracks, his breath synching.

Ears pricking to an off-shooting passage way, the unmistakable sound of a slither made his stomach coil.

It was instinct to finger at his sword, to press his palm into the leathery wrap at its hilt, ready for anyone, or anything.

An ominous wind blew through the tunnels, blowing the loosened strands of Cassian’s forward. Whatever was coming for him, it was big.

It’s scent caught him then – the unmistakable smell of a wyrm, a putrid mixture of rot and dampness. He’d only encountered one in his lifetime, on a dare with friends. The fight was easy then, Cassian had lured it from it’s burrow, and had easily defeated the creature thanks to his ability to fly, striking from above. But in here it was different - he barely fit in these tunnels, there was not enough room to even flex his wings. The wyrm itself would take the width of these paths, leaving no room to avert or dodge.

The ground trembled beneath him, a warning sign the wyrm was closing in. He could feel the creature's presence, a malevolent force that sought to consume him. The faint echoes of its slithering were louder now, and Cassian knew he had to act swiftly.

Drawing his weapon, a gleaming blade infused with the power of his siphons, Cassian pressed his back against the cold stone wall. The wyrm, blind but relentless, relied on scent and sound to track its prey. Cassian suppressed his breath again, minimising any trace that might give him away. He was stealthily still, wings tucked close to his powerful frame.

The wyrm entered the tunnel, its massive body undulating as it sensed the air, circular rows of rotten teeth bared as it’s forked tongue flickered, tasting his presence as it inched closer and closer…

With a swift movement, Cassian launched himself from the wall, a set of throwing knives set straight for the wyrm's mouth. The creature howled and thrashed as one landed its mark, lodging in its throat, the other clanging against its teeth. As it began thrashing, rocks and soot fell from around, the structure of the tunnel rumbling with impact. Cassian knew he’d be lucky to not be smothered by the damn labyrinth itself. 

He’d have to kill the wyrm quickly for either of you to make it out alive. So the creature was as good as dead. 

Without a second thought, Cassian launched through the air, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws of the wyrm. The creature's writhed with blind rage as Cassian grabbed at it's large fangs, forcing it's hideous mouth open. 

His mind reeled as toxins belched from the wyrms belly, the heat of certain death within swarming around him. But his muscles pulsed, and clarity was a blessed treat as he heard the calls of his mate echo through in his mind. He would not die – not until you were safe.

Cassian roared as he forced the wyrm's jaw that much wider, one strong arm bearing its might as he used the other to unsheathe his sword, facing it upwards within the creature’s mouth.

In a daring maneuver, Cassian leapt back from the wyrm, its mouth snapping shut followed by a piercing howl. Cassian’s blade shot right through the roof of its mouth, pointing right through its flaring nostrils. As the wyrm thrashed in pain, Cassian drew his longsword, raking a vertical line down the exposed neck and belly, gutting the creature instantly. 

There was no time to observe the beast any closer, to wipe the tacky black blood that covered his face and hands or even catch his breath. 

With a heaving chest, Cassian pressed forward, following the calls of his mate that echoed louder then before.

————

Azriel’s roar of frustration sounded through the narrow passageway behind him. 

Another door, and likely another room of guards that lead to fucking nowhere. He was desperate, magic lashing violently from him, the blue almost fully overtaken the hazel in his eyes.

He didn't bother with stealth, kicking through the iron door, bursting it open with a large bang as it flew from rusty hinges.

The sight before him was a curious thing. 

A wide spanning room, and to his right, almost fifty guards, all of them armed. He blinked across him, and in front of an identical door was Cassian, chest heaving, splattered in some form of ink, red shining from beneath. 

The stretch of leathery string pricked his ears, Beron's archers pulling tight on their bows as they aimed at males. 

Cassian’s grin was feral as he met Azriel’s eye. 

This was going to be fun.

————

Part 8>>>

AN: Hello lovely people!! I so hoped you enjoyed this next chapter, and the beginnings of feral Cazriel! Did you see Tamlin and Feyre agreeing together? 🥺 Also Eris is such a mumma's boyyyyy, I love it so much 😝 As always, thank you for your patience with this fic. I never expected the plot to be this intense, and it's taken a lot more brain power than I had expected haha! I hope I'm doing the story justice. I'm thinking we only have another 2 parts to this fic FYI, so very keen to wrap up this big finale as soon as I can. Comment to join either my general tag list or just the one for Our Girl. Thank you always for your support and kindness with this fic <3