#HOUSE STARK ON FUCKING TOP

[dipperscavern]

“ned refused a bedding ceremony on the grounds of “not wanting to break anyone’s jaw on his wedding night””

thanks to the anon that wrote this because i am drowning in tears and jizz… Lots to think about lots to ponder. NED STARK YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS.

That entire bloodline deserves to receive the nastiest head idgaf they need to get their asses ate. The realm has done nothing but disrespect House Stark they dont deserve them. Can you name a more dutiful and virtuous house??????????? HOUSE STARK 🔛🔝 RAHHHHHHH 🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

tears and jizz u said 😭😭 BUT UR RIGHT NED STARK YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS

I AGREE I AGREE. IM LAUGHING ABOUT RHE ASS PART BUT I CANT DISAGREE CAUSE THEY REALLY DO. THEY DESERVE THE SLOPPIEST TOPPY EVER. the realm DOES NOT deserve house stark. house stark ON FUCKING TOP 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

[venusbyline]

Tears ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 10, oct.

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fiancée!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: nipple play + cockwarming

— summary: Jacaerys had a perfect betrothal with his younger sister. But everything changed when you found out about his past affair with Cregan Stark's half-sister.

— word count: 798

— tags/warnings: kinktober 10th day, Targcest/Velaryon Incest (older brother/younger sister), Targaryen/Velaryon!reader, Rhaenyra and Harwin's daughter!reader, nipple play, cockwarming, punishment, degradation, past infidelity, choking kink, loss of virginity, curse words, dacryphilia, crying, masturbation, sadism, sub!Jacaerys, dom!reader, Cregan Stark mentioned, minor Jacaerys Velaryon x Sara Stark, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole

— crossposting: AO3

You were on top of Jacaerys for hours. You were on top of him, without riding, without making any movement, your focus being solely on reading a random parchment that your Mother had asked you to give to your Stepfather Daemon later.

Your body had been still for so long that you could feel your thighs starting to go numb. But you were not bothered at all. The discomfort in your calves was worth it when you could hear the pathetic little noises coming from Jacaerys' lips. The lack of action was making him panic, his thick cock becoming more and more painful inside your warm tight cunt.

Before all this, he pictured several ways of what it would be like to take your virginity. How you would look when he thrust himself inside you, when a little amount of your blood dripped onto the sheets, when you looked at him wide-eyed and scared as he began to fuck you faster. He pictured your moans resounding through the chambers.

Jacaerys pictured so much action and so many sounds. And now he was receiving only your stillness and almost lack of interest. He knew you were doing it on purpose, not allowing him the satisfaction of turning yourself into a mess just for him.

Jacaerys knew why you were keeping his cock inside you, even though you were not riding him, just focused on any other task. And he knew how much he deserved all that.

If only he had not betrayed your trust and slept with Sara Snow...

"My love, please..." Jace begged, trying to lift his hips up to get a little more friction between your bodies. "P-please..."

Your hands went straight to his thick and muscular thighs, pinning his body to the mattress and preventing Jacaerys from continuing his efforts to thrust inside you.

"Stop moaning like a stupid whore." You growled, throwing the parchment to the floor and looking at him with disgust, your dark hair like his, but long covering your breasts. "That's what you learned during your stay at Winterfell, was not it? Besides how to warm your face between the full breasts of northerners women..."

Jacaerys closed his eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and also lust. He did not want to get more horny when he remembered the nights with Sara, but it was impossible when you brought up his infidelity during the act. Or a near-act.

The way his cock twitched and pulsed within your walls did not go unnoticed by you. That made you angrier than you already were, your hand moving up to his bare chest below yours, taking the small, soft and almost flat nipple between your thumb and index finger, squeezing it and earning a startled cry from Jacaerys.

"F-fuck!" He whimpered, trying to push your hand away from his chest, but your hand gripped his neck before he could push you away, his cock pulsing again as you caressed his sensitive nipple and applied pressure to his throat at the same time.

"You dare think about another woman while you are inside my cunt?" Your growl made him close his eyes again and whimper, before looking at you with a sad pout on his pretty lips.

"I am not thinking about anyone else, I swear this to you..." It was not a complete truth and you knew it. You frowned and leaned over, making the slightest movement on top of him so you could face his chest, removing the grip on his throat so you could focus your attention on licking the nipple that was not being caressed by your fingertips. "Oh, Seven Hells..."

Jacaerys hated himself in that instant. He hated himself for cheating on you. He hated himself for letting rumors fly so fast across Westeros. He hated himself for being interested in Cregan Stark's half-sister while he already had a perfect betrothal with a perfect fiancée waiting for him in Dragonstone. He even hated himself for being so horny while you were humiliating him, even though he deserved every second of everything you wanted to do to him

"I am so sorry, my love..." Jacaerys moaned, looking at you with eyes filled with crystal clear tears. You stopped for a while, watching his handsome face and ran your tongue over the other sore rosy nipple, nibbling with little pressure before lifting yourself up, rubbing your own clit so that Jacaerys could feel your cunt crushing him.

"I know you are." You mumbled half-heartedly, before smiling sarcastically at your fiancé and older brother, your gaze so bitter that he had to take a deep breath, understanding that not even the fact that he was the heir could free him from your anger and resentment. Jacaerys knew he was lost and depended on your mercy.

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part four)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe is relieved that you don’t linger in the morning. He’s not one for pillow talk.

All you did was sleep next to each other, but waking up next to a girl to talk and cuddle is just too much for him. It borders on boyfriend shit, and he doesn’t do boyfriend shit.

He woke up with you pressed tightly against him, legs tangled, his nose buried in your hair. And maybe he did like it for a second, but that was just from the daze of part-consciousness.

Rafe lends you a pair of sweatpants on top of the boxers and t-shirt you’ve already wearing so you can deal with your door’s lock issue.

You leave his room without many words exchanged, thankfully able to sort the problem out soon after putting an emergency request in with maintenance.

Rafe spends most of his Sunday at the frat house, playing video games with his buddies. When Blake settles onto the couch, he pats Rafe’s shoulder. Rafe is focusing on the screen, but he glances at his friend for a second.

“I dm’d her,” he says with a grin. Rafe immediately clues in that he’s talking about you.

“I put in a good word for you,” Rafe replies, glad he has the game to pay attention to. He feels awkward talking about this. About you.

“Appreciate it, man,” he laughs.

“You thinking of, uh, dating her or…?” Rafe asks, tense but desperate to know if he might lose the best fuck buddy he’s ever had.

“Maybe. We’ll see,” Blake says. Rafe sees him typing from his peripheral vision, surely working on a message to you.

Rafe gave you the heads up, so when you’re sitting in your room reading an article for school, you’re not surprised when Blake follows and messages you on Instagram. You follow back and respond, open to getting to know him.

After dinner that night, Rafe texts you: cowgirl time?

You laugh. It’s a stark difference from the g-rated messages you’ve been getting from Blake all day.

You reply: i’ll be over soon

You’re holding Rafe’s folded clothes when you knock. He opens his door and takes them from you as you walk into his room.

“They fixed my lock,” you say. “One question for you, though.”

Rafe shuts the door and drops the clothes onto his desk, then picks up the wrapped condom he has ready and tosses it on the bed.

“What?” he asks as you sit on his mattress.

“How come you were cuddling me this morning if you hate it so much?” you say.

Rafe feels the tips of his ears burn with embarrassment.

“I wasn’t,” he says. It’s funny seeing him shy for once. It’s even a little cute.

He was embracing you pretty sweetly this morning. You woke up with his warm, heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders, his head nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his snores sporadic and low.

You know it was just a sleep-induced reflex in his tiny bed, but you can’t pass up a chance to mess with him.

“It’s okay to like it,” you joke. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Rafe can’t have this conversation. He leans over, his hands on your cheeks as he kisses you. He’s not wasting any more time.

You let him push you onto your back, lying in the middle of his bed, your head resting on his pillow. Rafe hovers over you and grinds against you, his hard bulge pushing against your middle.

You’re already throbbing for him as his lips roam over your neck. You angle yourself so that he can have full access to you, and he accepts the invitation immediately, his hot mouth on your throat.

He’s slow and tender. This is a far cry from the man who immediately went to groping you just a few nights ago.

Your hands find his hair, raking through his soft locks as he kisses and sucks at your neck. He lets out a soft, nearly silent moan as gently graze his scalp. The sensation gives him goosebumps.

“That feel nice?” you whisper with a smile. Rafe can only nod. He didn’t even have to tell you to do it. He didn’t even know he liked it until you did it.

You continue to play with his hair while he kisses your neck. Rafe feels you writhing beneath him, as if your body is begging for his.

You take turns taking off each other’s clothes with earnest movements, your pulse growing even faster once his boxers are off, his cock raised and swollen. He lingers over you, eyes sweeping over your face, before he puts his mouth on your neck again.

He kisses and sucks, making you gently buck your hips against him.

“You gonna ride me, baby?” Rafe asks against your skin. Your yes comes out with a raw exhale.

His hand cups your waist, pushing to encourage you to roll to your side and switch positions. He settles on his back as you straddle him, feeling the underside of his firm length pressing against your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” Rafe says. You look down at him with a hungry look in your eyes and nod. It’s exhilarating to see you hanging on his words; outside of sex, you gibe and pester each other, but here, right now, you’re in perfect harmony.

You pick up the shiny condom wrapper he left on the bed and he smirks in satisfaction.

“Put it on me,” he instructs. “It shows how bad you want it.”

You open the wrapper and settle on your knees to set the condom on his tip, rolling the lubed latex down his thick cock.

The sight of you holding him with one hand and rolling the condom down with the other makes Rafe’s brain foggy.

You thought you’d feel graceless turning to mount him in reverse cowgirl, but it feels natural and familiar now that you’re getting more comfortable with him, remembering this is all to help each other improve. You sink down onto him, body tensing at the feeling of him stretching you out.

You shudder, eyes squeezing shut, remembering how he encouraged you talk through it last night in the car.

“You’re so big,” you praise, voice breathy.

“Yeah?” he groans behind you. “You take my dick so fucking good.”

Your silky walls hug him perfectly, your body starting to rock. He watches your pussy swallow his girth, wishing you would go faster, but letting you take your time and adjust.

Rafe always went fast before, right to what he wanted most, but you’re teaching him that there’s pleasure in the lead-up, too. Coming up with the proposal to do this with you was the best idea he’s ever had.

You arch your back, trembling as you start to quicken your pace, sliding up and down his slick cock and gasping at the pleasure of him hitting so deep inside of you.

Rafe’s breaths are ragged as he watches your ass bounce with every slam. His hands are on your hips, but his touch is feather-light, letting you do it all.

Between your thrusts, you pause when he’s bottomed out to writhe and roll on him, enjoying every angle as he massages inside of you.

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans as you squeeze around him.

“Should I…” you begin. You look over your shoulder to see the dazzling sight of his quirked up lips, lids heavy, bare chest glistening with sweat. You remind yourself to stop being so nervous. “I’m gonna touch myself.”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Good girl.” He desperately wants to watch, but he’s here to get better in bed, and putting your pleasure first sometimes is clearly something he needs to work on.

Rafe hears you moan, knowing you’re rubbing yourself. He looks up at the ceiling to keep himself from cumming from hearing your groans mixed with the sound of your wetness.

“Shit, I…” you say, your thighs starting to weaken. “Okay, you can help a little.”

He immediately bucks his hips against you, positioning himself so he can fuck you while underneath you. The pressure from him jolting up against you is like a drug.

“How am I doing?” he rasps. Your moans are telling him everything he needs to know.

“You’re… fuck…” you breathe, your body shaking with every thrust. “Perfect.”

The pleasure from your words quells him. He feels you clenching around him and he knows with certainty now when you’re about to reach your peak.

His hands are on the small of your back, fingers splayed over your skin, as you ride him into a mind-blowing orgasm. Every inch of your skin tingles as you cum, looking down at your hands on his sheets.

You eventually lift off of him, breathless, turning to look at him. Rafe loves that expression on your face, pure elation and fatigue.

“However you want me,” you tell him tiredly, eager to give him the same feeling you gave him.

“On your knees,” Rafe says. He doesn’t even have to think about it. You twist into position for him, cheek pressed against his bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

Rafe’s hand is on his cock as he guides himself into you, revelling over how pretty your cunt looks, so swollen and wet.

His hands are tight against your hips as he slams into you, making your body rock. He looks down to your face, taking in your profile as you accept all of him, your lips parted.

“However I want?” he mutters, panting as he pushes in and out of you. “That’s how much you love this dick, yeah?”

“However you want,” you echo, your voice raspy from tiredness. “Whatever will make you cum inside me.”

He slaps your ass, the lust taking over him, and immediately worries it was too much.

The low moan you let out tells him it was a good move. He smirks to himself, thrashing harder, balls slapping against you, bed squeaking beneath you.

You feel him harden and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he cums, letting out a tangled string of fuck’s.

He pulls out and you drop to your side, laughing out of bliss. You knew sex was good, but never that it was this good.

As Rafe cleans up, you sit up to find your clothes, utterly fucked out. While you’re sliding your top on, he sits on the edge of his bed close to you, boxers back on and blue eyes travelling over your face.

“So, how… was your day?” he stiffly asks.

You laugh. Hard. He’s so awkward about it, but he’s trying. It’s endearing.

“Aftercare,” you say. “Look at you go.”

Your laugh is contagious, making him chuckle, too.

“It was good. My readings are kind of killing me, but good. How was your day?”

You stand to put your pants on as Rafe watches you, his dirty blond hair tousled.

“Just played video games with the guys,” he replies.

“You know we’re here for school, right, frat boy?” you tease.

“What’s that?” Rafe plays along. You chuckle and nudge his shoulder.

“I need a shower,” you say. “Promise I won’t show up in a towel this time. Well done.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. You smile and roll your eyes at him before leaving his room.

Between gruellingly long classes and hanging out with friends in his free time, the week seems to get away from Rafe. Before he knows it, it’s Thursday night and he’s hanging out with his brothers at the frat house.

Someone mentions ordering food, and as a show of camaraderie, Rafe picks up the tab. As he sits at the dining table amongst large group of guys, Sam gets to talking.

“Rafe, you think we could go with your car tomorrow, too?” Sam asks. “You could fit four of us, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Rafe figures that all the new pledges are going to get stuck with the jobs nobody else wants, like driving to certain outings. It’s only an hour drive, though, so he won’t complain.

The frat has plans to go south to Sam’s family’s lakehouse for the weekend. He’s only been part of the frat for almost half a month now, but Rafe is thoroughly enjoying having such a full social calendar.

“It was supposed to be just us brothers…” He shoots a look at Blake.

“What? You said it was cool,” Blake laughs.

“Who else is coming?” Rafe asks.

“Blake invited your hot neighbor,” Sam says. Rafe almost wants to say that you have a name, the reflex to defend you surprising him.

“She said yes?” Rafe asks, his tone hastily snide.

“She’s bringing friends, too,” Blake says, not catching onto Rafe’s irritation. “It’ll be more fun having girls around. Trust me.”

“Can I invite some girls, too?” another frat brother asks.

Rafe glances down at his paper plate, his jaw tight. If you start something real with Blake, this is over. He regrets not seeing you since Sunday. He should have taken advantage of the potentially limited time with you.

When he heads back to his dorm room later that night, Rafe texts you: soo ur coming this weekend?

You respond: what kind of coming?

You’re at Liv’s, talking about what to pack for the upcoming getaway. You’re only staying for a night and half a day, but you don’t want to risk forgetting anything.

“This one? Or this one?” Liv asks, holding up two bikinis.

“The red one,” you answer. Blake only mentioned that there’s a hot tub at the lakehouse about ten times.

You didn’t think you’d say yes when he first asked about this weekend, but when Liv and three other friends said they’d be up for it, you figured a getaway would be fun. Even if it involved a group of rowdy frat boys.

Blake mentioned it was supposed to be a bonding trip, whatever that means, but said that he wants you to come. You’re still not sure how you feel about him, but you’re willing to pursue it.

Your phone buzzes.

Rafe: lol shut up

You smile at the message.

“What’d he say?” Liv asks, a smile on her face. She knows you’ve been casually texting Blake back and forth.

“It’s Rafe this time,” you tell her. “Probably a booty call.”

You reply to him: yeah I’m coming. does that make me a frat bro too

Rafe: u wish

You: i do :( i really do wish

You see the bubbles on your screen telling you that he’s typing.

Rafe: come over?

You just got to Liv’s and don’t want to bail on her for a guy. So you reply to Rafe: can’t tonight.

Rafe’s stomach drops at the notification. Maybe you’re done. Maybe all he got was three nights with you, before another guy swept in to take away the best no-strings-attached sex he could ask for.

He feels better when you reply: but i’ll see you tomorrow :). Good. At least you’re not tied down to anybody yet.

When you pull into the driveway of the lakehouse the next evening, you realize the word house doesn’t cut it. Maybe manor would be a better fit. Or palace. The place is gigantic.

You and your friends pile out of the car and enter the storm of loud men enjoying uncurbed fun and excessive beer. Sigma Chi brothers are scattered around the first story of the house, but the majority of them are surrounding the kitchen island, bottles and solo cups littering the granite counter-top.

Rafe has to look away when Blake greets you with a hug. He hasn’t mentioned to anybody that you’re technically still hooking up, but now, being in the same room with both of you, he feels a competitive urge catch fire in his gut.

He thought he liked Blake. He doesn’t right now.

Thankfully, your friend groups seem to naturally merge together. The endless amount of liquor probably helps.

During a rambunctious game of flip cup that you decide to sit out, in the haze of your tipsiness, you’re not sure if Rafe finds you or you find him or you find each other at the same time, but you’re soon standing by the fridge together, tension thick between you as you watch the drinking game unfold.

Rafe can’t help himself. He has to ask.

“What were you so busy with last night?”

“I was with my friend,” you say. “What were you so eager to practice?”

Rafe cracks a smile, ducking his head so you and only you can hear his low, smooth voice.

“I wanna see how fast I can make you cum.” Arousal coils in your stomach instantly. “I bet I could do it in a minute now.”

He pulls back, his smile coy.

“We’ve had sex like two times-”

“Three.”

“Three,” you laugh. “And you’re that sure of your skills?”

Rafe simply nods, taking a slow drag of his drink.

“I don’t know where you get that confidence from,” you say, looking at him with feigned disapproval.

“You called me perfect,” he says.

“Doesn’t sound like me.”

The group playing flip cup erupts in a loud applause. You can tell which group lost the game immediately by looking at Blake, who’s laughing and excitedly shaking his friend by the shoulders.

You watch him, realizing okay, you definitely have a crush. He’s cute and charismatic and if the messages you’ve exchanged this week are any indication of his character, he’s kind, too.

Rafe is looking at you the entire time, at the smile on your face.

“And you like this?” you tease, looking back at Rafe and gesturing to the group of boisterous frat boys.

“You mean fun?” Rafe replies. You laugh. You can admit you’re having fun, too. But this is what you and Rafe do. You mess with each other.

“I couldn’t be around this 24/7,” you say.

“I’m gonna be when I move in to the house next semester.” Rafe realizes he’s waiting on your reaction with bated breath, to see how you feel about not sharing a wall anymore.

But he’s interrupted by Blake, who approaches you with a drunken smile.

“Why didn’t you play?” he asks softly, tapping your shoulder.

“For my own safety,” you reply. “You guys are insane.”

“She’s so rude,” Blake says to Rafe, who can only nod and take another sip of his drink to swallow down the confusing lump of anger he feels growing in his chest.

“You mentioned a hot tub?” you say to Blake, the promise of a warm soak sounding amazing. Rafe wonders what else Blake mentioned to you.

Blake’s smile widens and when he offers his hand, you take it and let him lead you out of the kitchen. Rafe’s fist tightens around his cup.

Liv and two other frat boys join you and Blake in the hot tub. You have fun talking and joking with them as your beer wears off. You notice Blake moving closer to you as the night goes on.

Things slow down close to 2 a.m. People start to retire to the guest rooms. Some don’t even make it and pass out on the couch.

Rafe is still awake when you come through the back porch doors in your bikini, your hardly covered body wet. The sight makes his groin tighten.

He’s standing in the dining room snacking on pretzels and you meet his gaze. He has something about him that strikes you every time you see him. He’s just so handsome.

He seems entirely aware and alert.

“You’re sober, too?” you say with a surprised laugh, pacing to the other side of the dining table.

“I am,” he replies. You lean over to take a pretzel, giving him a good glance at your cleavage.

Truthfully, Rafe cut himself off when he started feeling buzzed. He stayed awake and sober for you.

The moment he watched Blake lead you away, he knew he had to have you at least one more time before you’re spoken for. Nobody’s going to take you away from him any longer, at least not tonight.

So before Sam went to bed, he convinced him to give him the keys to his family’s boat that’s sitting in the water down by the lakeside dock.

“You ever fucked on a boat?” Rafe asks, his eyes glinting, his dimples deep. He holds up a key.

You put a hand on your hip, excitement flooding your every sense.

“First a car, now a boat?” you say, a smirk growing on your face. Is he seriously about to take you out this late at night? He’s insatiable. And adventurous. It’s thrilling.

“Come on,” Rafe rasps with a bit of a whine to his voice, stepping closer to you, towering over you as his hand drags over your arm.

You couldn’t say no if you tried.

(part five)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[loserboysandlithium]

Let’s Play Pretend: ex boyfriend Eddie one shot

Minors dni, angst, I haven’t done any angst in a while so I’m sorry if this is shit 😂 I needed a good practice run and hopefully someone will enjoy it 🖤🖤🖤

*******

Okay, I can do this. Just breathe.

Thanksgiving. Your mom expected Eddie to be there. He’s been there by your side for the past three years. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her about the breakup. It was too hard. You still couldn’t truly wrap your head around it. How did we end up here?

Eddie pulls uncomfortably at the collar of his sweater, borrowed from the one and only Steve Harrington, as you both stand at the door of your mom’s house.

“You didn’t have to wear that.. she knows you Eddie.” you speak for the first time since he picked you up.

“Just wanted to look nice, ya know? Not like the asshole who broke your heart…” Eddie’s voice trails off as his gaze falls to his feet. His big black combat boots a stark contrast to his cream colored sweater. How does he manage to pull even this off?

“We said we weren’t gonna talk about it, Eddie. You promis-”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I’m sorry. I just- this is weird okay?” he mumbles.

He’d agreed, semi reluctantly, to play pretend for one night. Put on a happy face for your mom. Just one night. One dinner. Surely you could make it through, right?

You hear footsteps behind the door and take a deep breath as you reach over, sliding your hand into Eddie’s. The simple gesture making your heart ache. His calloused fingers, the chill of his rings, so familiar to you once. You hear the top lock click just as Eddie’s brown eyes meet yours.

He gives you a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Ready, pumpkin?” he whispers, his old nickname for you suddenly sending you into a spiral. Fuck, pull it together. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

The door swings open, revealing your mother and you smile big, probably too big in an attempt to hide your true emotions. Your mind is swirling, flashbacks of you and Eddie filling your thoughts as you try to push them away.

“Are y’all ready to eat?” Your mother’s sweet southern accent easing your racing thoughts just a bit. You nod, releasing Eddie’s hand to embrace your mother.

“I know my boy is ready, and I made your favorite.” your mom smiles warmly as she takes Eddie in her arms next. You watch as he hugs her, squeezing tight. He’s always loved your mom. Always felt right at home. Soaking up the attention she gave him every time he was over.

“Thanks, Ma.” he answers softly, clinging just a little tighter than usual before pulling away. His eyes look glossy. Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea.

He swallows hard, glancing your way once more before he excuses himself to the bathroom, the tear falling down his cheek only spotted by you.

Your mom ushers you into the kitchen as you begin to grab the dishes, carrying them to the large wooden table in the dining room. She’s rambling as usual, “I’ve missed you, baby.” “How are things?” “Eddie looks handsome as ever.” “Is that Steven’s sweater?” “Anything new?” Her last question hits hard as she wiggles her ring finger playfully.

You give her a small smile and a fake giggle as you shake your head no. “Mom, stop.” you groan.

“It’s gonna happen, baby. I just know it.” she reassures, leaning down to kiss your cheek. There was a time where that was all you wanted. You thought about it constantly. What ring would he get? How would he propose? The fantasies had run rampant in your mind. He was the one. He was supposed to be the one.

“Everything looks incredible.” Eddie’s voice appears suddenly from behind you shaking you from your thoughts. Then you feel his touch. His hand resting on your lower back as he pulls you into him slightly.

It’s all pretend. It’s all pretend. It’s all pretend.

He’s so close. You can smell his cheap cologne mixed with cigarettes and weed. Your favorite combo. You allow yourself to lean in a little closer, your eyes shutting softly as you brush against his chest.

His heart is fucking pounding.

The oven beeps and your mom claps her hands excitedly as she announces that the turkey is done. She disappears into the kitchen, leaving you and Eddie alone for the first time since you’ve arrived.

“You doing okay?” he whispers, gently titling your head to look up at him.

No.

“M’ fine.” you reply instead. You can’t look away. His eyes drawing you in as always. His pretty lips. His brow furrowed slightly. He’s so fucking close.

“I’m not, if it makes you feel any better.” he says bluntly, his eyes still on yours.

“Eddie..”

“Okay kiddos. Time to eat.” your mom sings, placing the small turkey on the table as you all take your seats.

****

You spend the night playing along. Eddie making his usual jokes, your mom smiling and laughing, talking about memories of the past few years. Eddie’s hand rests on your thigh under the table, making your body tingle.

“God, I remember that.” Eddie chuckles, his genuine laugh something you haven’t heard in so long. Now when you talk, it’s always a fight. Screaming and crying. Or just another hate fuck. But it was never just that. And you both knew it.

You look over at his pretty smile, his eyes look light, his body relaxed. Everything felt almost normal again. But it isn’t real. None of it is real anymore.

After dinner, you hug your mom goodbye. Eddie kissing her cheek softly as he promises to see her soon.

Then you’re in his van. The light atmosphere fading back into your bleak reality as he drives you home. He tries to make small talk. Even tries to keep the earlier conversations going. Memories of your good times. They were the best times. But you have to stay strong.

He pulls into your drive, shutting of the van, landing you in a uncomfortable silence. “I should go.” you say quickly before he takes you off guard, leaning down to kiss you. You shove him off, doing your best to control your emotions.

“I just thought maybe we could..”

“I can’t, Eddie. Not tonight. I’m sorry.” you mumble, grabbing your bag from the floorboard of his van.

“Yeah.. yeah okay. Only when you want some dick, right?” he grumbles, his response making all of your feelings from the night explode out of you.

“Did tonight mean nothing to you? Did you not feel it? Do I mean nothing to you?”

“Of course I fucking felt it! My heart feels like it’s being ripped in two. Do you think that was fun for me? Playing pretend? A happy fucking family? I miss you. I miss us. You know that!” Eddie shouts, running his fingers through his dark curls.

“That isn’t fair.” you grit your teeth, begging for the tears to stay in place but it’s too late. They stream down your face in little rivers, blurring your vision as you try to compose yourself but it’s no use.

“I know I fucked up…” he starts and you just shake your head.

“I can’t do this Eddie. Please don’t do this.” you beg, your heart already shattering into a thousand pieces.

His firm hands cup your face, forcing you to look into his eyes. Those pretty eyes. His face matches yours, heartbroken, tears falling onto his chest, silently begging you to give in. To take him back. To forgive and forget.

You close the gap in between you, pressing your lips to his, tasting the salt from his tears as you kiss him gently.

He was supposed to be the one.

You pull back, resting your forehead against his for just a moment before wiping your tears.

“I can’t, Eddie. I’m sorry.”

[im-ovulating]

A Jasper kinktober with bloodplay and light choking?

(A/n: Kinktober Day 1/15 LET'S GOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!)

Word Count: 1,774

Summary: Yeah, your trust could have easily been misplaced, he's an apex predator, after all... good thing it wasn't.

Warnings: Blood, light choking, Reader being stupid

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Jasper Whitlock x Fem! Reader: Trust

------------------------

Jasper's weight is solid and comforting on top of you in a stark contrast to the way he is ravishing your mouth.

Your fingers are tangle in his soft curls as you kiss him back with equal fervor. You're dizzy with Jasper - his weight, his taste, his smell. God, his smell... Woodsy but also a bit spicy; it's hard to put an exact name to it, but, if you could drown in it, you would without a first, let alone second, thought.

"Fuck, you taste amazing, darlin'..." Jasper groans, wrapping his arm under you to press you even closer. As he nibbles your bottom lip, he uses a bit too much pressure.

Jasper freezes before you even taste the iron. His once honey-colored eyes now a deep amber as he stares down at you. His chest heaves with unnecessary breaths as he fights to control himself.

Trapped under him, you have no choice but to simply look up at him with wide eyes and bated breath. You're at his mercy; a rabbit trapped in the maw of a hungry wolf.

"Sugar..." His voice is gruff and strained with the effort of fighting his instincts. "Sugar, I need you to get up and leave. I need you to leave the house, get in your car and drive... now." He shifts his weight to free you, giving you a straight shot out of the bedroom.

"But-" "Now!"

You flinch a little at the sudden volume, though you remain rooted in your spot. There's something about the way he's looking at you that makes you unable to move; you're like a deer in headlights or maybe the thought of being so irresistible to him that he has to fight himself is just keeping you thinking clearly. Or you're just insane... Yeah. It's probably that...

"You won't hurt me..." You mumble, barely believing it yourself. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears.

As you reach up to cup his cheek, your hand is surprisingly steady. You try to bury the hurt that rips through you when he flinches from your touch.

"You don't know that." Jasper grits out. His fingers are fisted in the sheets so hard that his knuckles are impossibly white.

"You haven't hurt me yet..." You reason, knowing that it truly doesn't mean anything. You wipe your bottom lip with your thumb, collecting the red droplets. You ignore the way your stomach flips as his gaze snaps to your hand.

"What are you doing, Sugar?" God, that rasp alone could make you wet.

"I trust you..." Is your whispered response as you lift your thumb to his lips.

"I don't trust me." Jasper retorts. He tries to turn his head, but you don't let him. You swipe your thumb against his bottom lip, smearing the blood on it. it's a taunt - a stupid one - and both of you know it.

You watch with a hammering heart as he subconsciously lets his tongue dart out to taste the liquid. Before you can even react, his eyes go black and his hand closes around your throat as he tilts your head back. His grip doesn't hurt, but it leaves no wiggle room for you to pull away.

"Jas-" You start to say, realizing just how stupid you were. You've known he's a vampire, known that he has trouble controlling himself around blood. Fuck... However, you're cut off as his mouth crashes against yours once more.

Jasper's tongue immediately invades your mouth, tracing the seam of your lips as he laps up more of your blood. A small whimper leaves you, only to be swallowed up by his kiss.

"You're playing with fire darlin'..." his voice is lower than you've ever heard. Hungrier. "You want to play with nature? Toy with your life and my control? Huh?" He lowers his head to trail his nose along your neck, pressing a kiss to your thundering pulse point. "I can smell how wet you are for me... I can feel how aroused you are." You can feel your face grow hotter as he lays the truth out so blatantly. "You like the idea of being so vulnerable, don't you, Sugar?"

All you can do is nod pathetically as he experimentally flexes his hand around your throat.

"Well, consider it done, princess, I'll give you what you want..." He grins against your neck. He gives it a small, harmless nip before pulling back.

He reaches behind his head to pull his shirt off.

"Strip." He orders as he shoves his jeans down.

Apparently, you take too long because before you can even start, he decides to rip your jeans off. The button pops and lands somewhere in the room with a soft *clink* that's drowned out by your startled gasp. Your shirt and panties quickly join them as he trails kisses down your chest.

His hand stays firm around your throat as he draws back to meet your gaze. "Tell me what you want, darlin'... I need to know your mind matches what you're feelin'."

You shiver under Jasper's intense gaze, your heart racing with a potent mixture of fear and arousal. His firm grip on your throat leaves you feeling deliciously powerless, completely at his mercy.

"I want you," you breathe, voice barely above a whisper. "All of you. I trust you, Jasper, even if you don't trust yourself."

Your hands reach up to caress his face, thumbs tracing the sharp lines of his jaw. "I know the risks, but I want this. Want you to take me, claim me as yours." You pause, biting your lip nervously. "Please, Jasper…"

Your eyes search his, silently pleading with him to give in to his desires, to let go of his control and give you everything you crave. The hunger burning in his gaze makes your breath catch, anticipation coiling tight within you.

Jasper's grip on your throat tightens ever so slightly, making your pulse quicken. His eyes blaze with unbridled desire as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light caress.

"You have no idea what you're asking for, darlin'," he rasps, voice dripping with temptation. "I could snap your neck with barely a thought. Drain you dry in the blink of an eye."

He pauses, letting his words sink in as his free hand trails down your body, eliciting a shiver from you. "But god help me, I want you too. Want to feel you quivering beneath me, hear you moan my name as I fuck you senseless."

His hand drifts lower, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You instinctively part your legs, silently begging him to touch you where you ache for him most.

"Please, Jasper," you plead, fingers digging into his shoulders. "I need you. Take me, claim me, do whatever you want - I trust you."

With a feral growl, Jasper crushes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your mewls of pleasure. His hand leaves your throat to grip your hip, pulling you flush against him as he grinds his hardness against your slick heat.

"Then you're mine, sugar," he murmurs huskily against your lips. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Jasper's grip on your hips tightens as he lines himself up with your aching core, the tip of his cock teasing your slick folds. You let out a desperate whimper, your nails raking down his back as you try to pull him closer.

"Please, Jasper...I need you," you beg shamelessly, your body thrumming with a depraved, desperate need that you know he can feel.

With a low, guttural groan, Jasper surges forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight, welcoming heat. You cry out at the delicious stretch, your walls fluttering and clenching around his cock.

He pauses for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his near-black eyes smoldering with barely contained hunger. Then, with a primal growl, he begins to move - hard, fast, relentless thrusts that have you seeing stars.

"Fuck, you feel so good, sugar," he pants, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "So tight, so wet...all for me."

Your back arches as he hits that sweet spot inside you, over and over, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. You're completely at his mercy, your mind hazy with lust and the knowledge that your life hangs by a thread; that you could easily die if he loses even an ounce of the control he's holding on a fraying leash.

Jasper's grip on you tightens as he gathers you close, his lips trailing feather-light kisses along the delicate column of your neck. You shiver at the contrast of his cool skin against your flushed and sensitive skin.

"You're mine, sugar," he rumbles again, the possessiveness in his tone sending a thrill down your spine. His hand caresses your hip, fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

You arch into his touch, utterly intoxicated by his nearness. The predatory gleam still lingers in his darkened eyes, but there's a softness there too - a silent promise that he will protect you, even from himself.

Slowly, he rolls his hips, still buried deep inside you. You gasp at the sensation, your body already aching for more. Jasper chuckles, low and delicious, as he watches your reactions.

"So responsive, darlin'," he murmurs, nipping gently at your earlobe. "I could spend all night making you come undone."

His hand trails up your side, skimming the curve of your breast. You arch further into his touch, silently begging for more. Jasper obliges, his thumb caressing your nipple until it hardens into a tight peak.

"Please, Jasper," you whimper, your hips rocking against his in a silent plea.

With a predatory grin, Jasper shifts his weight, pressing you back into the mattress. His thrusts build in intensity, driving you higher and higher until you're trembling on the edge of release.

"That's it, sugar," he growls, his lips ghosting over yours. "Let go for me. Come apart on my cock."

Your vision whites out as the coil of tension within you snaps, your body convulsing around him in ecstasy. Jasper follows soon after, his fangs grazing your neck in a silent reminder of the threat he poses as he spills himself inside you with a guttural groan.

Spent and sated, you cling to him, your heartbeat gradually slowing. Jasper nuzzles your hair affectionately, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back.

"That was incredibly stupid and reckless of you, darlin'..." Jasper admonishes softly as he settles down.

"I know..." you pant a bit. "But I already told you: I trust you."

[gguk-n]

Fading Shadow (Lando Norris x ex-Reader)

Part 2 of Last Straw Inspired by this request

Summary- Y/N moved on. Lando is still stuck, on what they had and what he lost.

{Reader's POV}

The moment I landed back home, I felt relief wash over me when I cried in my mother's arms. I had been holding on to too much, it seems. My father brought my favourite food and we ate together and we laughed together. This was the therapy I needed. My siblings weren't very happy with Lando since they had seen everything unfold on social media but they were happy to have their sister back. I was happy to be back home. I needed this, I needed my people.

I decided I needed a change of pace, a change of scenery. I had been mourning my relationship while I was still in it. Now, I was a new me, I was going to do everything I wanted.

I applied at the company I always wanted to work at but due to there being no vacancies I was assigned a job in a different country and I was ready to take on the world. I knew Lando would never search for me, he never truly loved me but I still wanted to leave. I needed a fresh start.

{Lando's POV}

The silence after the break up was exactly what I needed, or so I thought. I could leave as I wished. I could go out whenever I wanted. I didn't have to explain myself to anyone. It's so much better to be single then to be tied down.

I didn't think I would ever miss Y/N, but I did. I remember exactly when I missed her for the first time; it was after a difficult race and I had finish decently with the shitty cards I had and I just wanted someone to tell me how well I did; but there was no one; no one who knew what I wanted to hear. I felt so alone even when I was surrounded by hundreds of people for the first time in a long time.

The second time I missed her was when I was stood on top of the top step of the podium. I wanted to have her around so I could share my highs with her. I didn't get a 'do you wanna go out to celebrate?' like the last two times and I aired her both time to party with random girls. Right now, I was in the club celebrating my third win of my career and season and I felt empty and alone. Not even the alcohol helped.

The house we lived in was a stark reminder of the time we spent together. All our dates we had. All the times she would teach me how to cook but we would always end up with a big mess and half cooked or burnt food since I would get distracted. In retrospect, I loved every second of it even though I never admitted it then. I love all the time we spent together or the laugh she would emit when I messed up. I missed her and I wish she was here; I was too stupid to admit it then but I do now.

Oscar was getting sick and tired of me using his phone to check on Y/N's social media accounts since she had blocked me every where. I would end up borrowing the other driver's phone to check, just in case. Until one day, her account stopped showing up for Oscar too. I went through almost everyone on the paddock's phone to see if she had blocked my friends. Turns out, she had deactivated her social media accounts; I realised that after one of the gossip pages posted about her deactivating her profiles, across all the platforms.

I would wake up from dreams about her and I would fall asleep to the thought of her. No woman interested me anymore; I wish I was this loyal when we were dating, when she could see that I loved her, not now when she couldn't even see I had changed.

My PR team was losing their shit when I tweeted that. I had to sit through a stupid meeting after everything. It was miracle I didn't start crying in the middle of the meeting.

People had started to notice I guess, since Carlos approached me. "Cabron, what's up?" he asked while I was lying on my couch after media day. "Nothing" I hummed. "I fucked up right?" I asked. "I can't say no" Carlos said. I laughed painfully. "I didn't know how good I had it until it was all gone. I'm an ass and I deserve everything I'm getting" I cried. Carlos comforted me, hugging me tightly. "I just wish she would talk to me, at least once. So, that I could show her that I've changed. I really have Carlos. I love her so much, it hurts" I cried into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lando" he said patting my back.

There's a saying, You don't know what you've got until it's gone. I was living that nightmare and I will never stop living it.

[kabr0ztrousers]

Hiii :)))

I’ve been reading your work for a while now and its. so. fricken. good. 🥵🔥🔥 Seriously, you’re great at writing! Love! Also I have a request for you, I know you have a few on the docket but I wanted to send you one for whenever you have time/if you like it! It took me a bit to decide to send one (i was shy..) Anyway

I have sooo enjoyed your minotaur stories and I love the idea of the minotaur farm. I was thinking f/human + m/minotaur. She applies to work at the farm having a secret lust for the beasts and wanting to become a breeder (she doesn’t end up getting hired as one) BUT obvi she ends up getting bred secretly without her bosses knowing 👀 Some edging/orgasm denial and definitely him dominating the hell out of her!! Also knotting and him being in heat would be so hot… Thanks for taking the time to read this!! Again love your work xx

(hopefully will be submitting again so if the 🪽 emoji isn’t taken yet, just know that’s me!) thanks!!! 🖤❤️‍🔥🖤

Hopefully this is the same 🪽 anon I gave that emoji to before, because I saw that ask before this one!

Kabr0z Writes episode 57: Ranch-hand

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: group sex; sharing; mmmf; giving fellatio, including throatfucking; masochism; service top; creampie; size difference; edging; squirting; unprepared anal; hucow mention; alcohol use; coerced alcohol use (kinda); alcohol intox; hair pulling; impact play

A/N: I skirted the line a little here with the CWs, the POV character goes to the location to get aggressively fucked, and I tried to communicate her getting off on hair pulling and impact play, even going so far as to help the first minotaur along. On the other hand, I'm not sure if that'll cross lines for people so that's why you're getting spoiled in the a/n - it's still real good though and I hope you enjoy

########################################

You'd first applied for a job as a cow. You knew the ranch kept human livestock, they weren't the most subtle about it, and you'd had more than enough of the office 9-5. Of course, you didn't get the job. It's not a job you apply for, and it's definitely not something you'd find on anyone's CV.

Whatever. You'd gotten over it and quit your shitty desk job anyway. Who knows, you might be able to make a living selling pictures of your feet. Your phone pinged. An withheld number texted you. No name, just a time and the address of the farm. What did you have to lose?

You knew the way already. The minotaurs who ran the place seemed not to understand the concept of aerial photography, so allowed the women to graze, stark naked, on the field away from the road. Sure, you can't see it as you drive by, but if you know what to look for it really stands out on the LandSat data. The drive wasn't even far, though it's a little strange to be wearing so little on the way. You'd decided to only wear a skimpy nightgown, so your bare legs were sticking to the faux leather seats of your car, to say nothing of the snail trail coming from your slit. It's funny, if you're right, you're going to a life somewhere between monastic ascetic and sexed-up hedonist. Despite hoping to never see your clothes again, you'd still dressed in something you wouldn't care if it got ruined.

You turned off the main road. It's still about a mile of field until the farmhouse, but the road here isn't paved. Your tiny Vauxhall bounced up the path, snaking up switchbacks until halfway up the hill you arrived.

The house isn't large. Despite the three minotaurs living there and working the ranch, the building was about as large as your home (former home) and you wondered how they managed it.

You opened the door of your car. The cold predawn air made your nipples stand on end, pointing out of the almost-translucent fabric of your nightie as you walked barefoot to the door and knocked.

No answer.

Not even a peep. You wished you'd brought your phone to check the text, but knew better than to take a tracker with you to get semi-kidnapped into an illegal fuck-slave ring. That just seemed like a no-brainer. You knocked again.

Still nothing.

You tried the handle.

It opened. You stepped in, the front door went to a vestibule where you wiped your muddy feet before going further into the house.

Now the living room. A couple of well-worn sofas, a pile of beer cans in one corner and the remains of a takeaway littering the coffee table. The kitchen looked to be in a similar state, empty bottles of vodka and other cheap spirits on the counter, the fridge door ajar.

Someone had a good night

You padded up the stairs. The warmth of the house causing your goosebumps to settle down, but your nipples still stood out as you explored the house.

Four doors at the top of the stairs, the bedrooms and the bathroom, each opening onto the windowless landing. You picked at random. Snoring echoed through the upper floor, these minotaurs weren't light sleepers, especially after putting away enough booze to hospitalise a baseline human. You pushed the door, the latch clicking lightly as it opened and the smell of liquor hit you. The minotaur lay in his bed, mostly naked, still clutching a bottle of supermarket-brand whiskey.

You turned, meaning to leave the tiny bedroom, mostly filled with bovine beefcake. A hand grabbed your face. The smell of the liquor and last night's curry filled your nostrils.

"What you doing here?"

"Mmmmph!" You tried to speak through the hand over your mouth, but couldn't make a sound.

The minotaur pulled you into the dark room and forced you back onto his bed. The neck of the whisky bottle was at your face. The hand over your mouth moved, you opened and he poured the cheap spirit into your mouth. Great gulps went down your throat as the rest covered your face. The smell of the alcohol filled your senses, drowning out the smell of the man gripping your face. Your head started to spin as the alcohol hit you, filling you with warmth.

Even semi-hungover, he looked good, and this is why you came here, after all.

You were staring at each other. He looked puzzled. His thumb was next to your mouth. You opened a little wider, letting it slip in as you angled your head to suck on it, tasting the warm liquid on it. Slowly, he was getting the message as you held his hand to your cheek and slid off the bed onto the floor.

You yanked off his boxers, leaving him totally naked in front of you as you knelt on the pile of clothes next to his bed. You looked at his sheath, using one hand to rub it, marvelling as the flared head of his cock rose from it.

You licked the end, kissing it and rubbing your face on it. The hand on your face had softened already, feeling you rather than holding. That wouldn't do. You took his hand gently and put it on the back of your head, curling his fingers into your hair as you bobbed your head. His fist tightened, you felt your cunt twitch as he pulled on your hair.

You took his cock deeper in your mouth. You needed to encourage him a little, but he was pushing you down on it now. You helped him push himself past your throat barrier, forcing the thick cock down past your tonsils, feeling the flare pop in, out, in, out.

One hand juggled his balls, each one the size of a duck egg, the other slipped up your nightgown, one slender finger teasing your leaking hole.

You could hear him groaning, the sound mixing with your lewd slurping and moaning.

A hand banged on the door

"Jim! Turn off the sound! Fuck sake!"

"S'not a video" your minotaur groaned out

"The fuck?" The door opened. Another minotaur stood in the door, looking down at you

You saw him grin. He slipped off his sweatpants and started grasping his sheath, the cock rising in his hand.

They lifted you to the bed. Jim sat in front of you, his cock in front of you, glistening with slime from your throat, a strand of your spittle linking the twitching end with your lips. The other cock was behind you, pressing gently against your cunt. Your arms were being held behind your back, one huge hand keeping both wrists in place. You let your tongue dangle, eyes locked with the minotaur in front of you as both his hands gripped your hair.

The cock behind you sank in. Your eyes crossed

"Oh, yes, give it to me" you moaned

Neither of the minotaurs held back. The one behind you hilted himself in you as your throat was filled again. Every inch of his cock was being used, pulling almost out of your pussy before that flared end slammed back down into you, his hips hitting yours and hammering your face another inch down his brother's cock. Again and again, he pushed you forwards, each time the cock got deeper down your throat. Your eyes watered, the alcohol was keeping your gag reflex down, but he still hurt going this deep. You could feel it in your cunt, oceans of wetness lubricating the cock claiming your nethers. You felt yourself starting to clench, to twitch. You rode his cock even as he abused your hole. You're nearly there...

He pulled out. Your cunt clenched against nothing, the throbbing ache running down your legs and up your belly. Your hands were still pinned to the small of your back as the cock in your throat started to pulse. The one behind you slapped your ass before stuffing three fingers into your cunt, twisting them, massaging your hole as his brother spurted hot, thick, salty cum down your throat. There was so much, if it wasn't for the wide flare sealing your throat off you could feel it would be squirting out of your nose. As it was, you swallowed it down. Your swallows pulled him in further, your body trying to force the foreign object down. He pulled out instead, flare popping out of your mouth as he rubbed the blunt end of his cock on your face, mixing his cum in with your throat slime and tears.

"Gonna take a shower. Give Jack a turn" Jim left the room, sidling past his brother as he kept sliding his fingers in you

"You'd like that, huh? Have all three?" He snarled at you, thumb brushing against your clit

"Please?" You're still drunk, you just wanted to cum all over this beast behind you

"All right then" he snatched his hand away from your cunt, wrapping it around your torso and listed you so you faced him. Your tits pressed on his front as you held on. His cock was at your open cunt. You tried to push it in, but he held it just at the entrance. You rubbed against the tip as he walked to the end of the hall

"Jack! Got a surprise!"

"Fuck off, John!"

John pushed the door open with his back. You saw the last minotaur on the bed. He saw you too

"So that fuckmeat came after all"

"You know this bitch?" John sounded amused, using one hand to slap your ass again as the other pinned you to him "I just thought Jim pulled somehow"

"Yeah, she's a wannabe cow" Jack grabbed a handful of your hair. You whined as he pulled it

"Fuck, if only there was more of her..." His cock was at your asshole now, next to his brother's still grazing the entrance of your cunt "real painslut, aren't you?"

You nodded

He pushed.

Your asshole clenched as the cock forced its way in. John pressed you down, his cock impaling your cunt as the other barged into your unprepared asshole.

The tip slipped in. John fucking you was spreading your juices onto his brother's cock. It wasn't enough to stop it hurting as he forced it up you, but it helped.

Both cocks rubbed against each other, you felt them inside you, driving up as you fell down. The men sandwiched you, keeping you upright, stretched out and stuck on them, legs dangling off the floor as they fucked themselves with you.

Your head spun. The cock in your ass didn't hurt any more, or it did, but it was getting you off so you didn't care. Your moans and whines filled your head, getting closer to the edge as they rutted into you.

"What? You wanna cum" John growled into your ear

"Yes" you whined

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir"

"You gonna be our cumrag?"

"Yes sir"

"Ok then, you can cum"

John grabbed one of your arms, pushing your hand between you and him. Your fingers rubbed your clit. Your eyes streamed as you wailed into his shoulder, cunt squirting onto the floor.

Both of your abused holes clenched and pulsed, the force of your finish milking the beasts as they railed you.

John came first, his cock hardening even more in you as he buried it, hot cum streaming out into your womb as you held each others bodies. You felt Jack slam his hips into your asscheeks, squeezing your hips as his flare expanded in you, seed pumping into your rear.

Both men held you there, enjoying the three-way embrace as they softened in you.

The shower came free, they let you go first on one condition:

You'd move in with them, to do this again and again

########################################

I just realised that if I catch up on Sunday, then that'll be early March... The question is, do I move to Volume 2 on Saturday with the calendar month, or at 60 episodes?

Doesn't make a difference to the day-to-day pornographing, only the contents pages, but it's a decision I wasn't anticipating...

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about an alternative older bf!simon who isn’t quite “boyfriend” yet but is a dirty old man that’s staying with you for the summer.

once he was sure that he was alone on the upstairs floor of the house, simon quietly closed your bedroom door behind him.

overwhelming was probably the best way to describe it.

so much of you in everywhere he looked, a mug with a smudge of your lip balm on the rim, your book open on your page on the nightstand, clothes strewn about the floor.

with a pair of pink panties precariously placed on top of the pile.

he was like a man possessed, like he’d stepped out of himself and let something else entirely take over him.

one large hand grabbed the frilly little pair as the other was blindly unfastening his belt in haste. the minute he flopped back on your bed, he nearly passed out.

your smell enveloped him, your shampoo on the pillows, your perfume lingering on the sheets. he lay the seat of your underwear across his nose and mouth as his hand slipped under the waistband of his trousers.

his cock was already sticky and leaking against his thigh as he used the precum to slide his foreskin along the shaft.

using his other hand, he pressed your panties even further into his nose- taking a big deep breath to savour the musky scent of your cunt.

“do you need a hand?”

his heart nearly stopped, panties falling into his lap as he sat bolt upright and stilled his hand.

you, pretty and perfect you- standing in the doorway of the bedroom and staring at him like the filthy fucking pervert he is.

“oh god- i’m so fuckin’ sorry- i don’t even know-”

putting your hands up, you sushed him as you pushed the door shut behind you with your foot.

“calm down, i’m not a cop- i asked you a question.”

you asked him a question, simon had been so fucking pink with embarrassment that he couldn’t even will himself to remember what you’d said.

thankfully, you filled in the blanks.

“would you like a hand?”

just like before, totally out of control of his own body- he found himself nodding his head before he began stuttering.

“yes- yes, please.”

you smiled like you were pleased, it made simon’s chest flutter.

“nice manners.”

lifting one leg, you began to fix under your skirt as he saw the stark white material begin to the roll down your thighs. white lacy panties were soon being flung at him across the room.

he was quick to cover his nose again with this new pair, already having a shameless breath of the sweet slick in the seat of them.

you were already curling into his side like a kitten, hand immediately finding its way into his underwear.

“hmm, you’re all sticky.”

“sorry, i’m a bit of a mess.”

quirking your eyebrow like you knew something he didn’t, simon’s whole body shuddered as you began to twist your wrist along the length of him.

“naturally.”

[frudoo]

Everything Zen

Ex's Dad!Kyle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating by ex-boyfriend. Cunnilingus. Hard and soft dom!Kyle. Daddy kink (I swear it came out of nowhere). Talk of protection but ultimately unprotected PIV, creampie. Breeding. Kyle taking things wayyy too fast. Partially edited?

The beer you’re nursing does little to calm the rage pulsing in your veins. Two years down the drain, all because your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—decided to sink balls deep into some bitch he met on a dating app he promised you he’d deleted when the two of you got together. The lies and the cheating were bad enough, but worse is the fact that when you caught the two of them in your own bed, he tried to convince you to join. They didn’t even stop to try and explain, even as you screamed at the top of your lungs and threw whatever was in your reach at them. You made sure he was at work when you returned the next day to get your shit and trash the house—childish, maybe, but you were pissed. 

     You still are. That’s why, when your friends called and begged you to quit sulking and finally go out with them again, you begrudgingly agreed. The best way to get over him is to get under some other guy or whatever Lydia had said. As much as you hate to admit it, the idea of finding a good fuck with no commitment does sound like just the remedy you need. 

     The music is far too loud even for you, and it makes your head ache with irritation. You’ve been here for the better part of an hour and somewhere in that timeline Lydia and your other friends had already found someone to take home. Here you were, still on your first beer of the night, alone and attempting not to scare off every potential hookup that walks by. Fuck, maybe your best friend is right—you do need to work on your RBF. 

     Perhaps not too hard, though. 

     “No’ one f’pickup lines, dove, but y’look too perfect t’be sittin’ here all by y’self.”

     Sliding into the empty seat beside you is the most gorgeous man you think you’ve ever seen. Deep brown eyes laced with mischief and clean, straight teeth peeking through plush lips—you can’t help but wonder how they’d feel against your neck, or your stomach, or lower—and a neatly trimmed beard, mostly dark but with streaks of stark white scattered about. You always have had a thing for the silver foxes. 

     “And you look too important to be talking to someone like me,” you furrow your brow but can’t hide the way your eyes rake over his body. 

     “Agree t’disagree,” the beautiful stranger lifts his hands in faux surrender, that brilliant smile widening. “I’m Kyle.”

     You take a long swig of your beer, tossing back the rest of the amber liquid, before deciding that it won’t hurt to give him your own name. He nods in approval, offering to buy you another beer. Sighing heavily, you stand to face him completely, slithering your way between his spread thighs. You hear his breath hitch as you lean in closer to his ear, lips brushing against his soft skin.

     “Look, Kyle, I’m not one to play around. If you don’t wanna take me home, push me away right now,” you hum, offering him an out, but he shows no resistance. 

     “And if I do?” His voice darkens while large, warm hands grab onto the backs of your thighs, thumbs grazing right below the curve of your ass. 

     Playfully nipping at his lobe, you respond with a purr. 

     “Then you better show me one hell of a night.”

     You barely make it into the Uber before he’s kissing you nasty, sucking on your tongue like he did the cherry in his old-fashioned. He still tastes like bourbon. The driver pretends not to notice the scene in her backseat as she asks for directions to Kyle’s house, which he gives her between sharp nips to your neck. You bite your lip to stifle a moan when he pinches at your hardened nipples through your dress, averting your wide eyes to focus on the scenery surrounding the moving car. 

     When you finally arrive at his house, Kyle carefully drags you out of the car by your bicep, but not before sliding a nice roll of cash to the driver who yells after the two of you in appreciation. As you giggle against his lips, the man pushes you against his front door, fumbling around in his pockets in a search for his keys. Once he finds them and unlocks the door, he tosses them aside and hoists you up into his arms, coaxing you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

     “Mind the mess,” Kyle murmurs, plopping your ass onto his couch. “I’ll be righ’ back.”

     Just like that, he leaves you with a heaving chest and a persistent throb between your legs. It’s a nice enough house, you ponder, just lacking a woman’s touch of warm, homely decor. That’s comforting—easier to believe you’re not going to be the reason a marriage gets destroyed. His lack of a ring doesn’t mean shit these days. 

     You can still hear him moving around somewhere in the back, and you take the opportunity to take a closer look at his living room. Above the fireplace are a few pictures that look a few years old. He has children, it seems, but they’re all grown. You grab what looks like the most recent picture and bring it up to your face to observe more closely. You count three girls that look a bit younger than you, but when you see the man on the end, your heart drops. 

     Right beside Kyle is your ex-boyfriend, with an arm around the aforementioned’s shoulders and an eerily similar complexion that you somehow missed when you first started flirting with the older man. 

     Motherfucking fucker. You just made out with your ex’s dad. You have to get out of here. 

     With trembling hands, you place the frame back onto the top of the fireplace and smooth out the wrinkles in your dress, shaking your head to try and clear away the shame brewing in your brain. You make a beeline for the front door but the second your hand closes around the handle, Kyle clears his throat.

     “Leavin’ already?” 

     Startled, you turn around to face him, met by the sight of him shirtless with two towels draped over his shoulder. He’s changed into nothing but a pair of grey sweats, the cheeky fucker. You frown, hiding your hands behind your back—despite the fact that there’s nothing in them—like you’re a child who just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. 

     “Y-yeah, I- um, I forgot I have… uh, my cat needs to be fed,” you cringe and pinch the bridge of your nose—all the excuses in the world, and that’s what you come up with?

     Kyle cocks an eyebrow and slowly strides over to you, caging you against his body with those strong arms. Your breath hitches in your throat as you try to ignore how warm he is, how fucking good he smells, the gentle touch of his hand on your waist and fingers lifting your chin. 

     “Righ’. Y’gonna tell me the real reason or is Cinderella jus’ gonna run from me?” 

     You curse under your breath, fists clenched by your sides. You knew you should have just stayed home, but no. Here you are, about to explain to what would have been your one night stand that he fathered the man who broke your heart.  

     “I… I, erm… I dated your… your son,” you hesitate, unable to meet his eye.

     “Oh.” 

     You think that being eaten alive by a pride of hungry lions would be less uncomfortable than this very moment. 

     “Yeah. I’m just… gonna go n-”

     “No’ anymore, eh?” Kyle interrupts, fingertips squeezing the plush of your waist. “Lemme guess—fucker cheated on ya.”

     “How did you-?”

     “Tha’ wanker’s always been a bloody git. Doesn’t know a good thing when it’s in his grasp,” the older man sighs. 

     “Now, y’can leave and pretend this never ‘appened,” he trails off, leaning down to press his lips to the skin behind your ear. “Or y’can stay and find out ‘ow a real Garrick treats a lady.”

     One swipe of his tongue across your jawline and you’re folding.

     “Show me.”

     Kyle hums in satisfaction, those huge paws hoisting you up into his grip once again. You wrap your arms around his neck and your thighs around his middle, moaning softly as he buries his face in your neck. He maneuvers his way through the hall without so much as a stumble, tossing you on his bed and chuckling at the way you bounce. 

     “Was gonna take ya in the shower, first, bu’ m’afraid tha’ would deter my little tickin’ time bomb,” he teases, climbing on the bed and settling on his stomach between your legs. “Unfortunately, m’not as patient as Prince Charming was, dove. We’ll jus’ find a different use f’these towels, then.” 

     He lifts your hips and lays out one of the towels beneath your bottom, then spreads your luscious thighs with a quickness that makes your breath stutter. Your hands fly to his curls and grip them tightly for leverage as he shoves your dress up to bunch around your waist, chuckling lowly when he sees what you’re wearing beneath—or what you’re not wearing, rather. 

     “Naughty girl. Expectin’ this, were we?” Kyle runs his thumb through your folds, licking his lips at the slick that coats the tip. 

     “I-I wasn’t-”

     “Mm, I ge’ it, princess. Needed t’ take ya mind off things, eh? Forget all abou’ tha’ bastard son o’mine.”

     You whimper at that, much to the older man’s amusement. He leans down to sink his teeth into the delicate skin of your inner thigh before soothing the mark with a kiss.

     “Did he ever ge’ ya this wet, pretty girl?” Kyle drags his plush lips higher up your thigh, closer to the spot that’s begging for his attention. 

     You shake your head, hips bucking up in a desperate attempt to get his mouth on your pussy. 

     “Answer me and you’ll ge’ wha’ ya want.”

     “No, he never- never got me this wet,” you whine, tugging at his hair. “Please, just- I want your tongue. Please.”

     “Fuck, y’beg so pretty, dove. C’mon then, ge’ those legs over m’shoulders.” 

     When you comply, he wastes no time before laving his tongue over the hood of your clit, tantalizingly slow. So slow it almost hurts. 

     “Kyle-”

     You don’t even get to finish your sentence before the man between your thighs retracts his tongue and replaces it with a sharp slap to your cunt. You yelp and stare down at him in shock, equally as surprised and embarrassed at the way the action makes you gush.

     “Tha’s no’ m’fuckin’ name,” he grunts. “Try again.” 

     You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head in confusion. 

     “I don’t-”

     “Tell Daddy wha’ it is tha’ ya want.”

     Oh. Oh, fuck, that’s not what you expected, but it’s not unwelcome. At all, much to your own surprise. Kyle gives your cunt another sharp smack with a flat, dry palm, snapping you back to reality. 

     “Come back t’me, princess.”

     “Daddy, please, I want you to- need you to eat my pussy,” you breathe, fingers moving to cup the back of his head. 

     “There’s a good girl,” he hums his approval, then shows it by shoving his tongue right into your sloppy hole. 

     Surreal—having the man who broke your heart’s dad eating you out like it’s the first meal he’s had in weeks. You’re out of your fucking mind, you’ve got to be, but fuck, the way Kyle’s wet tongue sends shockwaves all throughout your body dissolves any doubt you were entertaining. You always had to beg his son to go down on you and when he did it was half-assed, just a way to get you wetter so he could stick his dick in you sooner. Fuck, he definitely didn’t get you so close this quickly.

     “Oh shit, gonna- Daddy- gonna cum!” You slur, fists hitting his solid shoulders as you near the brink.

     Kyle looks up at you, eyes squinting with mischief, and sucks on your clit hard. When he feels your legs about to give out, he stops altogether, interrupting the absolute bliss you just dipped your toe into. You let out a sob, hips rocking against nothing but air as you try to get stimulation on your cunt once again. 

     “N-no! Fuck, why?” You rasp, pushing yourself up on wobbly arms. 

     “Ya didn’t ask permission first, princess,” the older man shrugs, and were you not still hazy from your ruined orgasm you would’ve cussed him out. 

     A tear slips down your puffy cheek and Kyle sticks out his bottom lip, mocking your pout. He cups your face in his hands and wipes away the moisture.

     “Oh, poor li’l love, lookin’ up at me with those pretty eyes,” he tuts, pressing his forehead to yours. “Ya wanna cum, dovie? Wan’ Daddy t’make ya feel good?” 

     “Please,” you murmur breathlessly, leaning up to try and capture his plush lips in a kiss to which he pulls back teasingly. “Wha-?”

     He raises a single eyebrow.

     “Please, Daddy, make me cum.” 

     “Mm, good girl. Fast learner, y’are,” Kyle finally gives in to your plea, running his fingertips over your arms until you lift them so he can remove your dress completely. 

     He groans lowly at the sight of your completely bare body, your dress long forgotten somewhere on his bedroom floor. His hands are on you again in an instant.

     “Fuck me,” Kyle grunts, tweaking one pert nipple between his thumb and forefingers, observant eyes locked on every reaction on your face. “These tits, dove… bloody ‘ell. Perfection.”

     He doesn’t allow a word to slip out of your mouth before he’s leaning in to lick a wet path on the valley between your breasts. His beard is still damp with your slick, coating your delicate skin with both himself and you. Only when he sucks your nipple into his mouth do you let out a whimper, hands desperately trying to find the hem of his sweatpants to pull them down. 

     “Hey. I jus’ complimented ya on y’learnin’ skills,” Kyle chides with no true disappointment and a breathy chuckle, swatting your hands away. “Ya wan’ somethin’, ya ask.”

     “Can I… please, can I take these off? Fuck, wanna see it, need to see you, please-”

     “Go on, then.”

     With a nearly silent gasp, you do as he says, shoving down the one layer of fabric keeping him hidden. A borderline pornstar-esque cock greets your eyes, which widen up at him in shock. He’s long and fairly girthy, curved at the pretty red-tinged tip, with a perfectly plump vein hidden beneath the base. It twitches when you get closer, a pearl of precum beading at his slit. 

     “Go’ a li’l drool runnin’ down ya chin there, princess,” Kyle snickers, running his thumb over your bottom lip. 

     You push his hand away in embarrassment, yelping when he places his fingertips on your chest and pushes you back down onto the bed, climbing right on top of your lush body. His lips capture yours once again in a hasty, desperate kiss, one that has you panting into his mouth as you try to speak. 

     “D-do you have a condom?” 

     “Mm, ‘fraid I don’t, dove. Don’t do this very often,” Kyle admits.

     You frown, but the man is quick to remedy your hesitance with another short peck.

     “M’clean. Can pull up m’records if-”

     “No, no, it’s fine,” you breathe, your fingers clasping behind his neck to convince him to stay put. “I am too.”

     “It’s settled, then,” he grins, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Jus’ relax, lemme take care of ya.”

     The tip of his cock slides through the cleft of your pussy, melting whatever tension still remained in your muscles. You sink into the pillows, just as soft, and watch as Kyle lines himself up with your entrance. There’s a bit of resistance at the first push, making you wince. He coos down at you apologetically, brows furrowed as he gives a little more force to his actions. When he finally slips inside the both of you gasp in sync, and your legs instinctively wrap around his slender waist. 

     “F-fuck, princess, you’re so bloody tight,” Kyle groans, resting his forearms on the pillows beside your head and feeding your cunt another inch of himself.

     All you can manage is a whimper, nails clawing at the bedsheets in an attempt to distract from the burning stretch. Your eyes shut until he bottoms out, hips flush against each other, one.

     “Y’with me, dovie?” He questions in a murmur, grinning contentedly when your eyes open and meet his own. 

     “Mhm,” you nod, allowing your hands to rest on his shoulders, massaging gently. 

     Kyle wastes no more time. You feel every ridge, every vein of his dick as he slowly pulls out until just the tip remains inside of you. There is no tenderness in the way he shoves back in, all primal need and unsatiated lust. Your yelp of surprise only fuels him, giving you another sturdy thrust which results in your nails digging into his skin. For all of his effort, the pace is still leisurely, spaced-out, leaving room for protest need you give him one.

     “All good?” He asks gently, a jarring contrast to the force of his hips rocking against yours. 

     “Yes. Fuck, please, need more,” you babble, little whines leaving your lips every time he fills you completely. 

     “Speak up, pretty girl, can’t understand ya when y’mumble,” Kyle coaxes you, stopping all movement until you give him what he wants. 

     “Daddy… faster, please,” you whine, voice morphing into a squeal when he snaps his hips back against yours. 

     “Atta fuckin’ girl,” he hums proudly.

     Kyle might be older, but he isn’t afraid to put his entire body into it. You don’t think you’ve ever been fucked so deep—certainly not by his son—in your life, but like hell you’re complaining. He intertwines his fingers with yours and pins your hands beside your head, holding you in place so you can look him in the eye while you brave every one of his devastating thrusts. It’s so intimate despite the quickness of the act, and it makes his efforts that much more satisfying. 

     “So deep,” you murmur, lifting your head so that he’ll kiss you. 

     He delivers, of course, licking into your mouth with a fervor that matches your own. He grins against your lips as you lock your ankles around his waist, egging him on. 

     “Yeah? Tha’ feel good, dovie?” Kyle teases, nipping at your bottom lip. “Daddy hittin’ all the righ’ spots?” 

     “Mhm!” Your eyes squeeze tightly shut, and Kyle grunts in disapproval. 

     “No, no, ya look at me, princess. When I give ya this big fuckin’ dick, ya look at me, and ya thank me f’it,” he growls, lightly smacking your cheek with his fingertips but not enough to hurt. 

     “Thank- thank you, Daddy, m’sorry,” you open your eyes, barely able to see through the film of tears that’s formed. 

     “No apologies,” Kyle wipes away the moisture with his knuckles, leaning down to touch his own sweaty forehead against yours. “Matter ‘fact, I don’ even wan’ ya t’think.” 

     Before you realize what’s happening, Kyle has your knees pinned to your chest, engulfing you in a tight bear hug. Fuck, you thought he was deep before—now you can’t even figure out where he begins and you end. There’s no more practiced, random rolls of his hips. Now he pumps into you with vigor, all power and rhythm, forward and back like clockwork. You’re entirely surrounded by him and his warmth, utterly full of everything he has to give and it still doesn’t feel like enough. 

     Your arms wrap beneath his so that you can rest your hands on his broad back, keeping him as close to you as possible. He buries his face in your neck and hums contentedly, sucking your supple skin between his lips, no doubt leaving a pretty purple mark. It doesn’t bother you, not when you’re almost positive he’s got nasty scratch marks from your nails somewhere on his body.

     Your legs bounce uselessly in the air until Kyle decides he’s had enough of that, leaning up to rest his hands in the crook of your knees, calves settled over his shoulders. He’s got all the leverage now, those  eyes half-lidded and staring down at you intently. A cocky smirk curls at the corner of his mouth at every little ah! ah! ah! that he fucks out of you, the obscene sounds of his cock ruining your sopping wet cunt a delightful symphony in the room. 

     “Mm, ya hear tha’ pussy talkin’ t’me? Practically screamin’ at me, dove,” he chuckles, mocking the shy little pout you give him. “Wha’ d’ya think she’s sayin’, huh? Think she’s askin’ me t’fill ‘er up?”

     “Daddy-!”

     “Yeah, I know, princess, can feel ya chokin’ my damn cock. Cum f’me, go on, know ya need to. Let all those thoughts slip righ’ on outta tha’ pretty li’l head o’yours, babe.”

     You can’t stop the screams that leave your aching chest. Your eyes pathetically roll into the back of your skull, it seems, as all the pleasure that had been building comes to a head. Your walls contract around him and your back arches, entire body trembling with the force of your orgasm. Kyle looks down to where the two of you are connected, groaning deeply at the sight of your slick, creamy  release coating the thick base of his shaft and the skin surrounding it. 

     “Fuck, dove, m’close,” he pants, movements turning erratic the closer he gets to his end. “Where d’ya wan’ it?”

     “Inside,” you rasp through a dry, raw throat. 

     “No’ the time f’jokes,” Kyle huffs impatiently, sucking a string of dangling saliva back into his mouth. “Where d’ya wan’ this cum?”

     “Want you to cum inside of me,” you huff right back, trying your damnedest to cross your ankles around his head. 

     “Bloody ‘ell.”

     Kyle’s hips snap once, twice, thrice more before he holds himself still, buried deep enough inside you that you can feel his throbbing tip pressing up against your cervix. The pinch is dulled by the warmth of his semen and the pretty whimpers that leave him, raw and unbidden. His hot, labored breath gently whisks across your face when he carefully readjusts your legs off of his waist, laying beside you and pulling you into his arms. Once you’re both comfortable, you giggle, and he pulls his head back to look at you amusedly.

     “My skills tha’ laughable t’ya?” He teases, hissing playfully as you give a smack to his chest. 

     “Shut up,” you breathe through a smile. “Just… didn’t expect that.”

     “Fuckin’ ya ex’s dad?”

     You wince, giving him another sharp slap.

     “Any of it, you asshole,” you laugh.

     There’s a beat of silence as you snuggle up closer to him, comforted by the feeling of him pressed right against you. Kyle hums quizzically, resting his cheek against the top of your head. 

     “D’ya regret it?”

     “I don’t,” you answer instantly. “This is, like, crazy bragging rights.”

     “Mm, righ’, righ’. Talk o’the town, ya are,” he grins, peppering your hair with kisses. “Think I’m gonna keep ya, dovie.”

     “Keep me?”

     “Yeah. Pu’ a ring on tha’ pretty finger, baby in ya belly. No’ gettin’ any younger, y’know,” he sighs dreamily, running his fingertips in random patterns along your back.

     “I just met you!” Disbelief laces your voice.

     “Maybe, bu’ imagine the look on my son’s face when he finds ou’ you’re his stepmum.” 

     Now that is a delicious thought.

     “I like how you think, Mr. Garrick.”

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"THAT'S MY GOOD FUCKING GIRL"

SOOOO I wrote another story with Buck because I (need him to fuck me until I can't walk straight) love him so much

I wrote this for everyone, but specially for the people that (as me) have a thing for that freaking metal arm ikyk *wink wink*

I hope you like it!

WARNING: EXPLICIT SMUT UNDER THE CUT

The soldier tried to get rid of the ropes that were tied around his wrists.

“Damn ropes,” he growled, trying to untie the strong knot that had been made around his wrists.

Then he heard them, several footsteps slowly approaching where he was.

“Shit,” he snorted as he listened to them. “I can hear you, you know?” he snorted. “If you want to be discreet, it would help if you didn't wear those fucking boots.” he shrugged. “But hey, if you're back to try to make me bleed, go ahead.” Suddenly the footsteps stopped, and Barnes listened, trying to guess if the intruder had left or was still in the house. “Hello?” he asked.

The footsteps started again, making you enter his field of vision. He watched you for a few moments with wide eyes, surprised by your presence.

“What…? You?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion. “How the hell…?” Where did you come from? How did you get in here?

-I climbed the wall –you said raising your hands- these new gloves Tony designed are the best, they stick like they were made of gum –you nodded towards the glasses hanging around your neck- you should let Stark take a look at them

-For your information, smartass, these glasses are older than you and I combined –he muttered- I use them to better focus on my objectives –he stared at you- but we're not talking about me, but about you –he said, turning the tables on you- What the fuck are you doing here? I told you not to follow me, that I wanted to work alone on this mission –he sighed tiredly- I hoped you would at least respect my decision, but of course you haven't because you barely respect yourself

-What the fuck did you say? –you questioned, looking at him with rage reflecting in your dark eyes-

-You heard me, fuck –the super-soldier growled- they could have killed you if they had seen you come in here –he muttered- it's not that I don't trust you, okay? You're an exceptional agent and Fury would agree with me –he explained- you know that he would have put us together if it weren't because… -he tilted his head- the people in this place are extremely dangerous, and not because they're armed to the teeth with pistols and semi-automatic weapons –he muttered- they're an illegal organization that has been trafficking drugs and scientific experiments for years. Do you understand? These guys are top 1 on the list of biggest motherfuckers in the world, even above Hydra

You watched him closely for a few moments, as he continued with his story

-Apparently, when I snuck into their headquarters a couple of months ago they were working on a new drug to introduce into the black market, which supposedly brainwashes people and forces them to experience feelings they don't want, which makes them either extremely vulnerable or turns them into cold, emotionless soldiers –he lowered his head- like I was

The sadness in his voice when he said that made you want to run out of there, travel back in time, grab all the Hydra motherfuckers who hurt him and kill them all again one by one slowly and agonizingly.

-That's why you came here alone- you finally realized, he nodded-

-Yes- he confirmed- this is something personal for me- he stated- and for the record, I was carrying out my role with absolute normality, until they knocked me out- he made a gesture with his head towards the ropes- then I woke up here, tied to a chair while they tortured me for I don't know how many hours

-Are you okay?- you asked trying to see his wrists from your position-

-Yes, I've been tortured before by people who were much better at it, so it's nothing- he assured you- listen to me, these people are not the type you can mess with- he continued explaining- especially when they have unidentified drugs up their sleeve- he murmured seriously- that's why you have to leave, right now- he ordered, fixing his gaze on your eyes-

-Leave? I've come to save you!

"You, saving me?" you exclaimed, making an amused smile appear on his lips.

"You, saving me?" he questioned as if it seemed to him the craziest thing he had ever heard in his life. "Please, you saving me?" he snorted, very self-satisfied. "I can untie myself and get up from this chair whenever I want," he murmured. "Just because I have a couple of bruises doesn't mean I'm useless, okay?" he took a deep breath. "I have everything under control, just…" he swallowed slowly. "Go away before they hurt you," he whispered. "I need to know that you're safe."

The sparkle in his green eyes was enough for you to realize that he was serious. Even if what he was saying was true (and probably the most sensible option), you refused to listen to him.

-I'm not going to leave you here, I don't care what you say to me - you declared firmly, he let out a curse under his breath -

-Fuck, you're so stubborn - he complained, staring at you again -

-Look who's talking, the most stubborn one in the place - he frowned-

-I'm not stubborn! –Barnes exclaimed- I just know when my teammates can handle missions and when they can't, and you can't handle this one –he decreed- so you have to leave before they come back

At that moment Bucky felt a sharp pain in his neck, which made him turn his head as if he had been punched. Worried, you approached him without actually touching him.

-What happened to you? Are you okay? –you asked trying to find his eyes with your gaze-

-Fuck! –he growled, shaking his head from side to side, as if he was trying to wake up from a nightmare- I felt like something was poking me in the neck –he said, tilting his head- Do you see anything?

-Yes –you affirmed pointing at his skin with your index finger- they stuck a dart in you

-A dart? -he questioned while looking at the windows of the adjacent buildings- And where the hell did it come from? -his eyes focused on a fixed point outside- Look there, on the beams! -he pointed to the exact spot with his head- you have to get out of here, go away- he ordered hastily- you have to go before they know you're here… -you saw how his eyes began to close, whatever they had injected him with must have been powerful enough to knock him out- just… run… -he said before fainting-

Several hours later, the super-soldier came to. He slowly raised his gaze, causing a slight dizziness to suddenly come over him.

-Shit… my head… -he complained, looking around the room, which he didn't recognize- Where am I? -he asked himself out loud- What the hell…?

Then he saw you, stationed at the entrance of the room in a simple T-shirt and pants outfit.

-Oh, hello –he greeted, looking at you a little more attentively than he should have- it's you again –he observed- wait… I… I thought I told you to go away –he frowned, looking at the walls for a moment- wait a second, where are we?

-In my apartment –you answered-

-Your apartment? –he asked- How did we get here? We were in… –he looked at himself for a moment- Where the fuck are my clothes? What the hell happened?

-I got rid of the group that was outside your building –you explained calmly- then I brought you here

-Wait, wait –he stopped you- Did you kill all those men when I passed out? –you nodded- What happened to the leader?

-He was the only one I didn't kill - you confessed, holding his gaze - they put him in police custody awaiting trial - you explained - I assume that Fury is pulling the strings so that the case becomes Shield's matter and thus transfer the prisoner to the Raft as soon as possible

He stared at you, thinking what he should say next.

-I suppose I underestimated you - he said very slowly - and how did you manage to drag me here by yourself? Didn't I weigh much? - he questioned -

-Not really - you crossed your arms - I have lifted weights that weigh more than you, sergeant

A hoarse laugh came from between his lips, making you shudder. If only you knew how much it affected him when you called him that…

-You're lying –he whispered- I'm sure you had help –he laughed- you're not exactly Hawkeye, honey- he smiled- come on, you're smaller than me –he said pointing out the obvious- but… thanks –he said, making you nod your head as you assimilated that he had thanked you for saving his life, it was always good to hear it- and… Why did you bring me to your apartment? –he asked- Why not to the headquarters?

You stayed silent and he scrutinized your face for a few moments before finding the answer himself

-Oh, I see –he whispered- you would be in trouble if you had taken me there, because you weren't supposed to help me –he focused his gaze on you- Did Fury order you not to come after me?

-It could be - you answered in a small voice, he clicked his tongue-

-I knew it - he muttered angrily - I told you not to get involved in this, and you did it anyway - he snorted - God, you are so stubborn… - he complained - Do you know how dangerous those darts can be?

-No, I don't know, just like you - you said - so stop pretending you know what all this is about, because you don't

-Whatever you say, princess - he snorted, looking away at the wall beside him -

-No, I listened to you, so now YOU are going to listen to ME - you ordered, making the soldier focus all his attention on you again - when I brought you here, all by myself for your information, I thought you were dead - you said - your pulse was very weak and you were barely breathing. Do you understand? - you questioned, looking him straight in the eyes- I've been alone all my life and I've never felt as lonely as when I left your body on the tiles in my kitchen

-Technically I've been dead twice - he intervened delicately- but… thanks for stitching up my wounds - he looked at his chest and arms- from what I see you've done an excellent job - he took a deep breath- I should go and return to the barracks

-No

-No? - he questioned raising an eyebrow- Are you telling me what to do? - he asked, as if he hadn't heard you well- look, I appreciate your concern and all, but I really have to go

He stood up and walked towards the door, but you ran towards it and locked it before he got there.

You turned around to observe his imposing figure in the middle of the hallway, his metal arm sending out small flashes due to the moonlight that entered through the apartment windows.

-Have you really locked the door? –he questioned pointing out the obvious- Is this another hostage situation that I should be worried about? –he asked, sketching an amused smile-

The expression on your face and your body posture made it clear to him that you weren't going to let him go, so he raised his hands on both sides of his body in a gesture of defeat.

-Okay, okay - he gave in - but at least give me back my shirt - he asked kindly - at least you left my pants on, so thanks for that - he whispered ironically -

A loud sound reached Bucky's ears, who quickly became alert, looking both ways frantically.

-What the fuck is that? - he asked alarmed -

-It's the kettle - you said slowly - calm down, everything's okay

-Shit, sorry… - he whispered - it's just that… well… you know, my PTSD from being… - he swallowed hard, you had never seen him more vulnerable than at that moment - the Winter Soldier implies panic at loud sounds - he said - so I… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you

-I'm the one who should apologize - you retorted - I had no idea

-It's okay, you didn't have to know - he murmured kindly - You headed towards the living room. He followed you. A pile of clean clothes rested on the soft surface.

“This is for you,” you said timidly before picking up the bottle with the pills, “and this too,” you whispered, “is for the headache.”

An amused smile appeared on his lips.

“Will you make me some tea and offer me some new clothes?” he observed. “I appreciate it, but don't think that by doing this I'm going to forget the fact that you stayed when I told you to leave, but… thank you,” he said again, this was the third time.

You sat down on the couch and poured the tea. He took a sip before leaving the cup on the table.

-It's good - he said before taking a couple of pills - and these should take effect soon - he observed before looking at you firmly - I appreciate all this, but we would not have ended up in this situation if you had done what I told you to do - he explained - we have been lucky, because if not this could have ended in a very different way

-I know - you murmured, getting up to pick up your cup -

-I know you know - he affirmed -

He observed you for a moment, before speaking more softly than before.

-You are acting as if I were about to yell at you - he explained - Are you really not afraid of me?

-No - you answered calmly - Are you angry?

-No, I am a little disappointed in you for not taking your safety seriously - he confessed - but I am not angry - he smiled - but Fury will be… furious - he paused for a moment - if he finds out

-Are you going to threaten him? - you asked curiously-

-I won't, if you do it you're doing something for me - he said - never ever follow me on a mission as dangerous as this unless I ask you to, do you understand me? You are a very important asset for Shield, and that's why you are under my protection - he reminded you - I can't let you get hurt or killed - he said - it's not that I don't trust you, it's that keeping you safe is part of my job, not letting you get into things you're not ready for - he added - believe me, I had to deal with this type of situations a lot with Steve - he smiled remembering it - so, that would be all basically - he finished -

-Is that all? - you asked, he frowned -

-Is that all? - he repeated - And what…? - then he noticed your neck and your arms for the first time since he woke up from his slumber, now with the light he could see you clearly - What is that? -he questioned, staring at you-

-What?

-That, on your neck –he asked- Is it a bandage? Because it's in the same area where I… -his voice faded, as he looked into your eyes- little liar –he whispered, sending a shiver through your body- Did they manage to hit you with one of those darts too?

He remained silent, waiting for you to confess, but since you didn't, he spoke again

-I asked you a question, and I'm waiting for an answer. Did they shoot you?

-Yes –you muttered under your breath, he cursed-

-Shit –he complained- I told you not to follow me. This is the main reason why I told you not to –he snorted-

-Calm down –you asked, he looked at you firmly- -Calm down? -he asked- they shot darts at us with a substance that we don't know what it is- he reminded you- we could die right now and no one… -he stopped- shit, I'm fine- he reassured you- just a little dizzy- he said- it's because you're too close

You hadn't realized, but as you talked you had gotten closer to him, just like he to you.

-Do you want me to go? -you asked, he shook his head negatively-

-No, just… get away a little -he whispered- I'm sorry, but I can't seem to concentrate well right now-

-It happens to me too -you confessed alternating your gaze from his eyes to his mouth-

-Shit -he cursed again- I think there was something in that drug those bastards shot at us -he explained- I don't know what it could be but I feel weird -he whispered- I feel like my heart is racing every few minutes more than normal, and it definitely doesn't help that you're there, existing like a strong ray of sunlight hitting me directly in the face -he said making you blush-

-I think this drug could be an aphrodisiac or something like that -the soldier murmured- that would explain why… -he paused for a moment- no, no, no t-this is w-wrong -he stammered- I-I have to g-go-

You placed your hands on his chest silencing him immediately. You felt his strong muscles moving under his skin.

“Your hands… are warm on my skin,” he whispered, gently raising his metal hand to your face.

Automatically, all the thoughts you had about him and that hand and what he could do to you with it made your face heat up.

“You're blushing.”

“It's not true.”

“Yes it is,” he laughed, amused that you tried to hide it. “You…? Do you really like my metal arm?” he asked, raising the corner of his lips in a half-smile. “I mean… it's usually unpleasant for women.”

“Not for me,” you confessed, feeling like your face was about to explode.

“Oh, I see,” he whispered, “you love it, right?” he asked. “Shit, is that the drug talking, or…?”

“No,” you answered faster than you wanted. “I've been watching you for a while.”

That WAS because of the drug. I mean, it was true, but if you hadn't been on some kind of psychotropic drug (which you were) you would never have admitted that out loud, much less in front of him.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, making your heart skip a few beats, "especially so close," he sighed, "when I can admire everything about you," he whispered as he snuck his fingers under the waistband of your pants little by little before beginning to rub his fingers over your clothed center. "Is it okay?" he asked, you nodded. "More?" he questioned, reading the expression on your face.

Once again you nodded, making him let out a hoarse laugh that made you tense up deliciously.

"Only if you ask me nicely…" he murmured, stopping his movements, making you let out a gasp of surprise, he smiled.

"Please Bucky, can you…?" -You didn't have time to finish the sentence, since he had resumed his movements, which made you hold on to his broad shoulders to avoid collapsing-

-So obedient… -he murmured, watching you closely- I definitely didn't expect that from someone as stubborn as you- he laughed- shit- he growled- tell me to stop right now if you don't want me to kiss you- he said, staring into your eyes-

-I don't want you to stop- you repeated, swallowing hard, seeing the intense shine in his green eyes-

-Give me those lips then- he growled as he closed the distance that separated you to kiss you-

His lips moved needily against yours, making you gasp into his mouth. His beard tickled you, but you didn't care.

Not when he was kissing you like that, as if the air in his own lungs wasn't necessary to live, that he also needed the air in yours.

-This –kiss- is a –kiss- very bad idea –he murmured between kisses- you know that right? –he questioned- we should –kiss- stop –another kiss-

You watched each other for a moment, understanding each other without needing to speak, until he said:

-Fuck, I don't want to stop either –he panted kissing your neck and taking off your shirt and bra to leave kisses between needy and sweet on your chest- My God, every part of you is perfect –he whispered sliding his lips over your skin-

Little by little he placed you on your back against the couch without stopping kissing you, his powerful body floating over yours.

-That's it, darling –he praised against your mouth- give me better access –he murmured making a gesture towards himself for a moment- let me…

Without warning, you snapped your fingers and all his clothes disappeared making him laugh.

-Sometimes I forget that, besides being an excellent agent, you are also a mutant - he smiled - I have seen you use your powers before, but never like this

-That's because I only reserve these tricks for you - you whispered, making him smile -

Your powers consisted of making any physical element appear and disappear at will whenever you wanted.

At first you made things disappear without wanting to, but thanks to your training with Wanda and Strange you learned to bring them back and, ultimately, control your powers completely.

His fingers pushed aside your underwear, sneaking inside you. A gasp escaped from between your lips, noticing how he stretched you.

-Shit you are so wet - he observed, staring into your wide eyes - I can't wait and see how you taste," he confessed, making your hair stand on end, "but first you have to do something for me," he whispered, "can you do it, darling?" he added, you nodded weakly, his fingers certainly didn't help you concentrate properly. "Of course you can," he murmured before kissing you again, "do you know what I want you to do?" –he came closer to your ear, and whispered- I want you to beg

-I already have –you complained, he shook his head slowly-

-Not enough –he growled lightly- you're lovely, but you're going to have to beg me if you really want this –he whispered, you felt how the fact that he suddenly became so bossy only made you more excited than you already were- do it –he pressed- beg me

-Please Bucky –you pouted- I need you

-Come on princess –he sketched an amused smile- you can do better than that

That's when you exploded. Your libido was through the roof, and you needed him so much that his fingers weren't enough anymore, you wanted him.

-I need you inside me –you confessed- I need you to bury yourself so deep inside me that I don't know where I end and you begin.

-That's better –he said resuming his movements in your center- I knew you could do better –he added between laughs-

-Wait –you said holding his wrist with your hand- I need… I want… -your gaze shifted to his other arm, making his smile grow wider-

-Do you want me to touch you with my metal hand? –he questioned, you nodded slowly, feeling yourself blush- shit you're fucking adorable, are you sure? –you nodded again- you really have a thing for it don't you? –he took a deep breath for a moment- okay –he agreed- Who would dare to reject such a sweet offer?

He quickly replaced his flesh hand with the metal one. A squeal escaped from between his lips at the cold contact of the metal on your hot center. You held onto him as he curled his fingers, brushing against that spot that made your head spin.

-That's it, let me caress your clit- he whispered, watching you intently- good girl- he praised, making you gasp and start moving your hips against his fingers, suddenly his contact disappeared. Your eyes widened when you saw how he placed both hands on your hips-

-Fuck it- he growled- spread your legs- he ordered, staring at you-

-Why did you stop?- you moaned- I was about to…

-You're going to cum several times tonight- he assured you- now I need to taste you

Unable to say another word, you nodded and did as he asked.

-You're so wet- he whispered, placing himself between your legs- but I want you to be even more- he confessed, leaving a soft kiss on your center- legs on my shoulders, doll

You couldn't explain in words what happened next. His tongue was everywhere, sucking, licking, and tugging at your clit making you feel soaked like never before.

You arched your back into him, earning a murmur from him as he claimed you with his mouth. You rested both of your hands in his hair, tugging at it between your hands.

“Yes baby,” he whispered, “show me what you like,” he said as you squirmed against him. “Your moans tell me you’ve been wanting this for a long time,” he commented as he kissed you.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” he questioned. “You’ve been thinking about me like this, huh? I bet you got wet thinking about me doing this, right?” “Another kiss,” you nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence at the thought of a super-soldier eating your pussy out on your couch. “Is this what you wanted?”

-Yes –you gasped, holding onto his hair again, feeling yourself blush-

-It's okay, baby –he whispered- you're not the only one who's had those fantasies –he confessed, and the fact that Bucky had been thinking about you like that was enough to make you cum at that moment- you've been on my mind for quite some time, too –he began to explain- in this position and maybe with one of my hands on your throat –a muffled cry escaped from between your lips, since that was the same thing you had been thinking- preferably the metal one –he whispered, thus completing both of your fantasy-

-I… -you gasped- I've been thinking about that too –you confessed, he smiled-

-Do you want to do it now? –he asked and you nodded- good girl –he murmured- okay, here we go –he said reaching his hand up to your throat- I'll just place it around it without using force, just so you feel his presence, okay? –you nodded firmly-

When you felt the cold metal against the skin of your neck, and his long fingers wrapping around your throat you thought you would faint. The pleasure you were feeling at that moment was nothing like anything you had ever experienced before.

-Oh fuck –he gasped watching you- this is so fucking sexy… -he growled- my hand around your throat –he murmured kissing you in the center again- my other hand stimulating your clit and my mouth devouring you like I have been wanting for weeks

The sensations were… too much. You felt your body tense and relax in equal parts. He noticed it too when he looked up at you.

-I can feel you tightening around my fingers –he whispered- Are you going to cum already, doll? –he asked- Are you close? –you nodded- good –he murmured- I want you to cum on my fingers while I make a mess of your clit –the mere thought made your head spin- Can you do that for me?

Lost in the cloud of lividity, you nodded.

-Good girl –he praised kissing you- just feel my fingers stretching you, while my teeth pull on your clit

-Buck… -you gasped holding onto his hair again-

-That's it baby, cum for me –he ordered-

With a loud squeal, you did it. As you caught your breath, his green eyes scanned your face intently.

“That’s my good girl,” he smiled. “You came so hard,” he murmured, his smile growing wider. “How long have you been holding it in, babe?”

“Too long,” you replied, trying to calm the trembling in your legs. Without giving him time to say anything else, you wrapped your hand around his cock. This time it was he who gasped.

“Baby,” he growled, throwing his head back. “I need to feel something more than just your hand,” he confessed. “Take your time, I don’t want to make you…”

A hoarse gasp escaped from between his lips as you took him into your mouth and tasted the tip between your lips. He raised his hips against you, making you feel him grow inside your mouth.

-Wait- he growled holding your head gently with his metal hand- I don't want to cum without feeling you first- he patted his leg twice- come here, sit on my lap

He didn't have to ask you twice. You positioned yourself there, he held your hips between his hands while offering you a radiant smile.

-Hi- you greeted with a nervous laugh-

-Hi- he whispered focusing all his attention on you- I want you to ride me- he confessed making you almost choke on your own saliva, you loved that he was so direct- now you have control and I want you to take my cock like a good fucking girl. Understand?

You nodded and raised your hips to slowly introduce him inside you. You both gasped at the sensation, his metal hand rested on your back, helping you stabilize.

-Slow down, baby – he whispered – don't rush – he asked – it's been a while since I last saw you

You moved your hips against him, feeling how he stretched you in a delicious way.

He buried his face in your neck to kiss you again while you sighed and moved looking for a release that came too soon.

When you finished he held you in his arms and without realizing it you fell asleep against each other.

[occamstfs]

New Meaning to Hazing

Here's a scent triggered nerd to frat bro TF, usual mandatory group project stuff. Hope you enjoy! -Occam

It was not shaping up to be Henry’s day. His lab partner Alexander invited him over to his place so they may work on their report together. He was beyond shocked to learn that his partner, one of the few people on campus he could really call a friend, seemed to live in a frat house. Walking past the less than manicured lawn, complete with circles of dead grass where kegs sat out too long with litter from a recent party still hiding at the edges, Henry couldn’t help but feel his friend would never deign to live in such grotesque bro-squalor.

He checks the address sent once more before moving to knock on the stark white door to the manor, unaware of the curtains shifting as he is watched by whomever awaits him inside. He raises an arm to rap on the door before it is thrust open by one of the brothers. The large man is shirtless and sweaty, presumably fresh off a work-out which Henry is vainly trying to avoid noticing. Inside the foyer of the house is only just neater than the lawn, the trash at least overflowing front the trash cans rather than scattering the floor. 

Henry forces an awkward smile and begins backing away before he is ushered in by the sweaty man, “Hey bro, did ya need sumthin?” Gears turn in the man’s head as he tries to recall why some twerp would be coming to visit the house this morning. Henry sees the man’s mind grind to a halt and thinks about taking the opportunity to flee like the prey he is. He hesitates and the lapse passes, the oaf shouting out into the house. “Anyone expectin’ an, uh, nerd? This mornin’?” Henry hears a cacophony of barely conscious men groaning nos from rooms down the hall, breaking through them though is an almost familiar voice, “oh wait yeah, think I’ve got some project shit with him, can you send him over here?”

The troll of a man that has ushered Henry in beams and throws an arm around him, continuing to lead him through the threshold, “Huhuh! Why didn’t ya just yer here to see Lex lil bro! C’mon, he’s right this way.” Henry has no way to surreptitiously escape now that he’s been pulled inside the wholly unpleasant estate. Passing open rooms Henry could see a few men sleeping away the day and judging by the pervasive odor in the air there are at least a dozen or so more hiding from his view, if not his nose. He struggles not to visibly recoil at the musk lest he provoke his apparent guide through this bro-y hellscape.

Arriving in the living room he finds piles of dirty laundry on top of stained couches almost as expected at this point. More shocking than that is the large man lying in between them watching porn in the middle of this shared living space. His modesty barely covered by a pillow, the man looks up with eyes glazed over and stubble dotting his jaw. Despite the well sculpted body and jungle of pit hair exposed, almost as a challenge to the nerd interrupting him. Henry feels some foggy connection with this man who should fill him with only disgust. Trying not to too closely inspect the man mid-masturbation Henry can’t help but notice that he looks like some juiced up and dulled down version of his lab partner, Alexander.

His eyes widen as the frat bro smirks and scratches at one of his pits, smelling his hand before speaking up, “Hey dweeb, are you gonna just stand there and watch me jack it or can you get my fucking homework over with already.” His right hand returns under the pillow and Henry is taken aback, now recognizing the voice as his friend’s, only an octave deeper and dripping with derision at his once-friend. Henry clears his throat to apologize and shifts his eyes away from the man, wondering if he should enquire about his obviously changed state. 

He had never seen his lab partner shirtless before so perhaps he’s been hiding this impressive build the whole time. But, no it’s impossible. He’s at least a foot taller. Henry cannot reconcile how sharp his stubbled jaw is, the lazy lust filling his glazed over eyes, or the dull crawl of his deeper raspier voice. “I’m sorry for um, interrupting Alexan-” His lab partner twitches before Henry finishes the name. Immediately looking away from the porn and to Henry, “It’s fucking Lex dude. And did you not hear me? Get to work or I’ll fuckin’ make you.” Henry sees veins pump larger on his arms as Lex gets worked up. Trying to make himself small and agreeable, Henry backs away.

Lex smirks as he sees the nerd shrink into himself, the pillow bouncing higher as he feels his power, his masculinity, affirmed. Though completely driven by his balls, an idea squirms its way to the front of his mind. This little dork just wandered into his turf. Fucker’s gonna learn to respect his frat real quick. Henry sees darkness infuse Alex’s eyes as a deeper hunger grows within him. Barely masking the hunger filling his voice, Lex speaks up, “you know what bro, I’m sorry about this, just a little pent up. You know how it gets I bet,” he pulls his hand free from his crotch and gestures towards Henry, flicking his pre at the nerd.

Henry scoffs as this is quite the line too far, his face burns with embarrassment, no, with rage as he starts to feel anger far greater than he could muster before at this jerk whose supposed to be his friend! Seeing this brings genuine delight to his partner who laughs out a clearly fake apology, “Huhuh, sorry bro. Why don’t you head up to my room and get started. Here’s a change of clothes if you want it dude”

Lex grabs a shirt from the pile sniffing it and recoiling before shrugging and throwing it anyway. Were he thinking Henry certainly would have noticed his using the same cum covered hand to hurl the shirt. But something about his rising rage has heightened his awareness to the haze of the frat house, musk distracting him in a manner that is distinctly not disgust as he is pelted with the shirt and coated in some mysterious liquid.

Henry scoffs in indignation and departs for the room, leaving the shirt behind as he begins to unbutton his own stained top. “Up the stairs. Third door on your right, Bro.” Driven not by the scholarly initiative that brought him to this horrid place he obeys the man’s instructions rather than simply fleeing outright in what may be his last chance at salvation. Henry wanders up the stairs without a thought spent on anything but trying to understand the peculiar feeling rising within him at the wretched stink.

Arriving at the door Henry enters and slams it behind him, unsure if he wants time to work on this project by himself or for that cum-for-brains oaf to follow him up shortly. He clicks the lock on the door, either way not wanting to be caught unprepared by the monster storming in as he disrobes his stained shirt. Henry jumps as he sees a figure move in the room only to find the wall  across from the bed is covered in a massive mirror. Ever a curious mind Henry wanders over to inspect it and discovers hundreds of stains of god knows what. Some sick new instinct suggests he sniff and Henry is immediately lightheaded as his mind is assailed by what seems like years of cum stains.

His eyes glaze over and his mind is overwhelmed. Henry stands in front of the mirror staring straight at himself, unaware as his appearance slowly begins to shift. Glasses that are as solid a facet of his appearance as his nose fall from his face and disappear as his hair darkens and curls messily atop his head. His torso expands and thins as his arms grow gawky and lengthen. His skin tans and smooths as his mind remains boggled by the odors swimming through the air, stretching as the changes itch and burn under his skin. He feels muscle pull on his chest as something that should not be there cramps and breaks his trance. His nipples poke larger, growing hard in the chilly room and Henry blushes as he feels his cock pulse in his briefs. Uncomfortable at the idea of getting off at his own reflection and unable to bring his conscious mind to awareness of his changes.

Each second spent investigating his reflection the oppressive weight of Lex’s odor sinks deeper. Looking into his own eyes and seeing a man who he simply cannot be, Henry feels a headache quickly  rise. taking a deep breath he lets his mind clear and he shakes his head, hair flopping as it never has. But he pays no mind. He should just get started on the assignment. Yeah, the quicker he’s done the quicker he’ll be out of here. 

His mind strays to thoughts about Lex as he pulls out his laptop, he is in the jerk’s room after all. He sneers looking around at the mess, seeing oddly stained socks and half-drunk cans of beer scattering every surface. His eyes steer clear of his reflection as something deep in his mind refuses to see his reflection. His face burns as he feels his cock start to grow in his pants at the idea of Lex. “God fuck him, this is supposed to be a group assignment.” Henry bites his lip to distract from the mounting pressure in his pants.

Never a man of much will Henry digs deep into some new reserve and stubbornly gets to work. Opening a database to find sources for their report. Typically he wouldn’t even mind doing a report alone but something about that ass getting any credit really sets his mind ablaze. He thought Alex was his friend, but ever since seeing him as Lex something just. Something’s digging in the back of his mind just out of notice. He breathes deep to loose a large sigh, musk rising in his chest as a thought more pervasive than anything grabs his consciousness, Don’t worry about it bro.

Henry stares at his library’s homepage as any forward movement in his mind is halted. He could stand to chill a bit for sure. He scratches at his chest and tries to remember how he was planning to tackle this report. Thoughts moving slower than usual in his mind, waylaid by this command as well as the still advancing scent of Lex’s squalor. Following the professor’s instructions to a tee Henry sets out to start his dull work. Scrawling notes down into a spiral he tilts his head in confusion as his handwriting is far less fluid and graceful than usual. No time at all to think further on the matter as he is again struck with apathy towards anything peculiar. He takes another deep breath and another message blares through his mind, deeper, Welcome to the party bro, just keep breathing deep.

Henry scratches more at his chest as thin hair begins to poke out around his nipples. Nigh invisible blonde peach fuzz scattered around the center of his chest slowly lengthens and grows dark as the hair on his head grows longer and greasier. He rubs a hand through it and almost grimaces, feeling as unwashed as any of the slobs in this horrible compound. Despite the cool room in which he sits he begins to sweat as he sits there, computer in lap. His face rearranges into something a tad less feminine and his head twitches to the side at his criticism of the slobs, his fellow slobs. Like an alarm the thought brings him back to some semblance of himself. He is a neatfreak isn't he? He searches his memory to find any evidence to support the reality he knows.

Henry again scratches at his chest as similar itches arise in his pits and crotch. Two areas he is suddenly armed to ignore lest more similarities spring to mind between him and the slobs of this sick place, or worse Lex himself. His mind drags a memory of Lex’s treasure trail snaking above the pillow as he feels his pubes itch. His hands try to stray as he wrenches them abc to a keyboard to get some research done. His fingers miss keys as they inch slightly larger than they’ve been before, palms expanding wider and demanding adjustment. Henry clenches his jaw and takes another deep breath to stem his irritation.

The musk in the air becomes cloying to him as he suddenly begins to add to it, his sweat slides down his back and down onto his ass as a new itch arises there. He tries to keep his mind focused on his homework but every click and keypress becomes more difficult as his mind demands distraction, release. After clicking on an article filled with more text than he cares to read he thoughtlessly goes to scratch at his package. As soon as he touches it he is overcome with pleasure. Giving in immediately, he rubs through his pants as his sweaty back slides against the wall leaving his own stains in Lex’s room. His hips hump into the air as his cock strains his underwear beyond imagination, the sound of a tear cracks through the air as his pants slide into a wedgie from sliding down on the floor.

Henry tosses his laptop to the side and is stuck with indecision to just rub one out or not. What is he thinking? He’s in someone else’s fucking room, Lex’s room. The thought sends even more passion coursing through him as hormones and hunger rise. He bites his lip and scrolls to see just how long this article is, maybe he can work some kind of deal out with his balls right? He’s in control here. He tries to sit up and feels with every small movement or twitchy adjustment, waves of pleasure launch into his mind. Dulling every instinct besides those most basal and hungry. Attempting to gather any substance from the wall of text on screen is quickly abated as he decides to find some other distraction from whatever sickness is compelling his mind.

His balls pulse as he struggles to stand to his feet, his eyes stay focused ahead, away from his reflection as he sees a video game controller on Lex’s bed, surely his br- his lab partner wouldn’t mind, def not. He awkwardly steps forward feeling his larger balls pull tighter and grow larger as he struggles to fight against their constant impulses. His feet expand as he steps on Lex’s cum-filled socks and any disgust he once felt, should feel, is overridden by an ever-peaking desire for release.

His pants fully rip as his package becomes wholly unmanageable by the size 28 pants he threw on this morning. Henry scrambles under Lex’s blanket to protect his modesty and convulses as he hears something squish underneath him in the bed. His expression squirms between pleasure and judgment at his bro for being such a slob. God! Not his bro, his uh? New ideas breeze across his mind as his mind has begun to slip at a far greater pace. Each musty breath blanching more of himself away, Henry never really stood a chance. But hopping into Lex’s surely unwashed sheets was an err far too great.

Grabbing at the controller and getting started Henry feels his arm prickle as ink starts to seep to the surface. Would’ve sworn he’d never deface his body like that but he clearly has, right? Haha! His jaw grows slack as, for the first time in a while, he is able to focus on something other than his demanding balls. He feels an itch on his chin as stubble just like his bro’s begins to speckle his face as he begins to put on weight. Hair on his chest and pits begins to grow longer as he lays in an altar to Lex’s must. Quickly losing in the game he almost tosses his controller across the room as the unfamiliar rage that started his descent arises once more.

God what’s fucking up with him today. He grunts and pays no mind to the sound that echoes throughout the musty air, deeper than he could ever fathom issuing forth. He scans the room no longer seeing his laptop or discarded clothes. His eyes just manage to avoid looking at his reflection with some remnants of existential terror fighting against the rising instinct that he needs to pay his hot body some attention. Instead he notices Lex’s laptop on the bed beside him, porn already cued up. He bites his lip and smirks as he feels his cock begin to spew pre onto Lex’s sheets. Surely his bro won’t mind.

Back downstairs Lex gets off to himself as he imagines that little nerd trying not to lose himself in his own musky haze. Picturing in his mind the new curves of his body as hair begins to grow like a jungle across his figure. He starts going at it imagining Henry struggling to keep his mind focused on anything other than his growing muscle and rapidly expanding cock. Upstairs Henry himself quickly adds to Lex’s tapestry of stains as he sees his arms burn and grow. Guffawing to himself through his moans of self-pleasure as he suddenly finds his own body far more alluring than whatever shitty smut his bro had left open. Looking down at his cock as it grows beyond his understanding out of a bush of pubes darker and dirtier than he could conceive. He needs to see the whole picture.

His eyes widen and he twitches in pleasure and fear as he struggles to and to not look at his own reflection. Biting his lip to draw blood as he grunts deeper by the second, sweat staining the sheets as the bed creaks underneath his still increasing weight. His hair curls and his jaw widens as he clenches it. The curls on his chest spread wider as the little muscle he had became pecs outright, his heart pounding beneath them as the rise with each labored breath.

Drool begins to pool in his mouth as pre streams down the hands clenching his cock. His vision flickers as he manages to steal a glimpse of himself and is evermore changed. The nervous nerd who didn’t even knock on the door is wiped from Henry’s mind as he absorbs his new majesty, the power he now wields. The scent of Lex’s den is absolutely masked by his own as he languishes in his bros sheets, smirking as he flexes at his own reflection. Arms large enough to absolutely wreck his bros PR’s, a  core strong enough to fuck for hours, and thighs large enough to any fucker to submit, to say nothing of his massive cock in between them.

Immediately after taking himself in Henry loses any remaining control over his libido and moans loud enough to wake every still sleeping brother downstairs as his body cements him the king of this chapter. Painting his own stains up and down Lex’s mirror as he hears his fellow titan start to stomp up the stairs. He feels his cock harden even more intensely as another round swiftly churns in the balls hanging beneath it. Would’ve sworn he had something else going on but for the life in him he can’t figure out what. Making his way over to the door before his bro rips it off the hinges Henry decides surely a good fuck is just what he needs to set himself right again.

[muffinpink02]

Sweaty Sessions

We all saw the gym pic Alexia put in her insta post, so of course I had to do a story of her in the gym.

@copper-16 I hope you enjoy the hip thrusts! 🤤 @codiemarin thank you for jumping in and giving me a detailed picture to write 🥵 💦 and @lucyandalexiafan thank you for always helping me with everything I write! ❤️ Sorry if it feels a little rushed.

Warning - smut 18 plus, strap, restraints, fingering,

Barcelona’s sun was extra hot today, you could feel the sweat dripping down your back as you rounded the corner to your house. You let out a puff of air as you dropped your keys in the bowl next to the front door. You caught a quick glimpse of yourself in the mirror after your run, your face was sweaty, your cheeks were red and your baby hair was starting to curl. The built-in AC was a welcome on your damp skin.

“Ale, I’m home.” You called out, but got no response. 

You walked into the back of the house, knowing your girlfriend would be in her favourite room. 

You took your headphones out as you approached the door to your shared home gym. You could hear the familiar sounds of her heavy panting before you had even turnt the corner. You couldn't ignore the way it made your pussy flutter.

You spotted your girlfriend in the middle of her daily work out. You had seen the sight before, more times then you could count, but that didn't mean it ever got old, the view of Alexia working out never got old. In all honesty the mouth watering sight alone could get you wet if you watched her long enough, especially when the only items she wore were a sports bra and red gym shorts.

You slowly sneaked into the kitted out gym room, the heat in the room hit you straight away, it felt like a sauna. It was the only room where the AC wasn’t working, the repair guy was coming next week to fix it. 

The blonde was in the middle of her hip thrusts, she hadn't noticed you come in, she had her headphones on, and her eyes closed as she concentrated on the heavy weight bearing on her hips, her deep breathing went in time with her motion. Your eyes greedily roamed her sweaty body, as her abs flexed with her movements.

You shook your head at the girl, only Alexia would work in a hot box for a room, the girl never missed her workouts for anything.

The music in her ears suddenly stopped. Her hazel eyes opened in confusion, a cute frown knitted between her eyebrows until she saw you. She gave you a quick smile, clearly still in the zone of her workout. 

You eyed the plates on the metal bar, the weight combined was heavier than you, a stark reminder of the kind of power the girl possessed. Though you were reminded most nights when she had her way with you. Just the other night the blonde had you pinned to the wall, her strong arms held you up as she fucked you so effortlessly with her strap.

You smiled back at her, your mind was already filled with filthy thoughts, but you couldn't help it, not when she moved her hips the way she did. Her hips thrusted hard, as she pushed the heavy bar in the air, you felt your pussy squeeze as you watched her muscles flex again and again, her sweaty skin looked incredibly edible.

You flinched as she dropped the weight, the heavy clanking of the metal brought you back from your dirty day dream.

“Hola, baby. How was your run?” She breathed.

“It was good, thank you. How's your training going? Are you finished?” You asked with hope in your voice but you already knew the answer.

“No, I’m half way.” She chuckled.

You pouted as you stood over her. You rolled the bar down her legs, she eyed you as she took a drink from her bottle, the blonde could already read your mind. You lowered yourself on top of her hips, in a squat-like position. 

“I bet you can’t do a hit with me on top.”

She wiped her wet lips as she smiled at your attempt to goad her.

“At least try and give me a challenge when trying to distract me, amor. Come, let me finish. I’ll be done soon.” 

She patted your leg to move, You pouted again, giving her your best puppy eyes, she playfully rolled her own, smiling at your sulky face.

“Three thrust, then I train, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Her warm hands grabbed your bare sides as she easily raised you off the floor with her movements, you felt your cunt flutter as her hard abs pressed into your core, just slightly giving you a little bit of friction, But she didn't stick to her own words as she thrusted again, and again, her hands squeezed your skin, holding you in place. 

You could tell she was counting, she had clearly made a bet in her own head to get to a certain number, the competitiveness never stopped with this girl, even if it was with herself. You couldn’t hold back the giggles as she smiled at you. You held on to her shoulders as she pushed into you, easily lifting you up and down, her fingers flexed around your skin, making your stomach flutter.

A small gasp escaped your lips at a particularly hard thrust from the girl below. You bit your lip as your clit pressed just perfectly against her firm body, your hips naturally moved against her, wanting more friction.

She felt you move, she heard the gasp, a knowing smirk crept on her perfect face. You could feel yourself getting wet, the movement was sexual, there was no two ways about it. You had been in this very position only this morning, when Alexia decided she wanted you to ride her fingers. 

But once again your filthy thoughts were interrupted.

“20. Done. Now let me train.”

“Make it 30.” 

She chuckled. “No amor, let me finish, then you can have me.”

You tried to do your best pout again even adding a small roll of your hips, hoping the move would persuade her.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she felt you, the fingers on your sides tightly squeezing again. You took that opportunity to lean into her hot body, your lips traced her sweaty neck, you could taste the salt from her sweat on your lips. You dragged your tongue just below her ear, smiling when she made a small gasp of her own. You captured her ear gently between your teeth, giving her another sinful roll of your hips.

“Please baby. I want you.” You purred.

Her hips jolted up, you couldn't help but feel slightly proud of yourself as her normally strong resolve started to break. But just as you thought you had won you were being lifted into the air. Your face was met with Alexias back as she easily flung you over her shoulder, like some kind of cave woman.

“Ale!”

Moments later you were set back on your feet, standing next to the pull up station. The next couple of seconds were a blur. Her movements were quick, one minute you were dry humping your girlfriend, the next your arms were being pulled behind your back and were being tied up by the rubber bands that were attached to the bars above.

You felt the rubber around your wrist, you tried to pull at it but it was no use. You shouldn't have been too surprised that the girl was able to tie you up so effortlessly, she loved having you tied up in your sexual activities, she could make restraints out of almost anything, but you had never thought your resistance bands would be used on you. 

She smirked as she pulled the bands, making sure you couldn't escape. A harsh tug brought you closer to her face. Her lips ghosted your own.

“As you can’t be good and keep your hands to yourself, you can wait.” She smirked as she pressed her lips onto yours. 

Your mouth gaped open in disbelief, she gave your arse cheek a hard slap before she walked back to the equipment. 

“No, Ale please! I’ll be good.” You cried out.

But it was no use, her face was already back in focus mode. You groaned as you watched Alexia completely ignore your presence and settle back into her hip thrust position, your complaints falling on deaf ears. 

So you stood there. Staring at your girlfriend as she thrusted the heavy bar in the air. You tugged at the band once again, trying to free yourself but it was hopeless. You would just have to wait and watch, but at least the view was a good one.

Alexia was in the zone, she concentrated on her work out, finally finishing her remaining reps. As she stood you noticed her arms looked extra hard, you weren't sure if she was tensing or the girl had just gained more mass. But you were going to be a brat about it.

“Are you really going to leave me like this? Make me watch your work out? As if I'm impressed?”

She laughed out loud, wiping her sweaty forehead, but she didn’t respond. She picked up some more plates from the rack. She held the weight near her core, and pushed it on the bar in the most sexual manner, her eyes watching you as she did. 

You rolled your eyes and looked away, but only for a second, you weren't about to let your pride get in the way of watching your girlfriend be a cocky dick, it was frankly the hottest thing on earth, but you weren't going to tell her that and let her ego grow even more.

Once she was finished with her peacocking, she moved to lay on the bench, lifting the bar with an eye watering amount of weights attached, but of course she only made it look easy. 

You felt no better than a man as you watched the blonde working out, I mean, she was your girlfriend, you were allowed to watch, you were being made to watch, but you wanted to touch her, especially when she started to make those stupidly sexy grunting noises. 

The grunts she let out was the same grunts you heard in your ear many a night, the same delicious groans that dripped from her mouth when she held you down and fucked you until she came on the base of her strap, grunting while she was deep inside you.

You caught your lip between your teeth, the heat between your legs was rising, your mind was clouded with images of Alexia, thinking about all the ways she would fuck you, use you, make you scream untill your voice was hoarse. The sound of a loud groan made your eyes flutter and your knees weak. 

Alexia finished her reps with the chest press and moved over to the weights on the stand, not once did she look at you. She took out a 20kg kettlebell and began her kettlebell swings. It was no secret that the girl was fit, she did two workouts a day, everyday, plus training, plus running and everything else in between, but she still impressed you every time you watched her, the girl was a beast. 

The blonde had almost forgotten you were there. She was mid lift when she caught you watching her in the floor length mirror. A coy smirk creeped on her lips at the angry yet horny look that sat on your face. She loved the fact that you were watching her, even if you had no choice in the matter. Though she knew you were enjoying the view, she just wanted to have a little fun with it.

She panted hard as she got to the last set, her cheeks hollowed out and her sweaty chest rose in time of her breathing, her goddess-like body was something of dreams.

You could really feel the heat between your legs now, a dull ache throbbing your core, you had never been so turned on and frustrated at the same time. Your thighs began to clench as you watched your very fit but very annoying girlfriend work out in front of you. you couldn't ignore the ache in your cunt anymore

“You’re loving this aren't you?” You raised your eyebrow at the blonde.

She chuckled as she returned the weight on the rack. She took another sip from her bottle before facing you.

“Sí. I am. You should have been patient, baby.” 

You rolled your eyes. The girl could be such a fucking tease.

She walked towards you with a cocky smirk on her face. 

“Ah don't be like that, amor. I know you enjoyed the view.” 

“Would be better if I was allowed…”

Your sentence died in your throat. The blonde turned her back to you, you thought she was done with the conversation but you watched as she slowly started to stretch. Right in front of you. She bent straight over, touching her toes with ease. Her arse strained against the tiny shorts, giving you a perfect view of one of your favourite body parts. She was clearly trying to kill you. 

“Alexiaaaa. Please. This isn't fair.” You cried out.

She laughed loudly as she straightened herself up. Your eyes roamed her wet, muscular body, she was covered in a sheen of sweat, even her top lip was wet. 

You didn't know why but it was something that turned you on to no end. Seeing Alexia like this, all worked up, hot and sweaty made you clit throb. Maybe because it was a similar sight to when she fucked you.

“You can wait a little more.” She pulled the rubber band once more, making you jolt.

Before you could reply she was walking out of the gym.

“Ale! Where are you going? You can't just leave me!”

She ignored your calls once again. You huffed in annoyance, pulling at the arm band one more, but the tight rubber only pulled on your skin. The room was unbearably hot, your patience was wearing thin, especially as it was at least 5 minutes before she came back. 

“Ale, what the fuck you c-can’t …” Your words stuttered on the tip of your tongue.

Alexia stood at the gym door wearing nothing but her favourite strap. The big strap.

“What was that sweetheart?”

You gaped at her, your mouth was suddenly dry. The sheer cockyness that dripped from the gril was spinning your head. The look she gave you was predatory, she stalked slowly over to you, you suddenly felt like a lamb who was about to be devoured by the lion

“Hmm? You seemed so impatient. I think you need something…. Big. Don’t you think?” 

“N-no. I jus- ahhh.”

Your head was suddenly yanked back, Alexia had a vise-like grip of your hair, making you cry out.

“Get on your knees.” 

You knelt to your knees, while Alexia kept her grip on you.

“Open your mouth.”

And like the good girl you were, you opened your mouth. She slid her dick in gently, but it didn’t stop you from gagging as it got halfway. You didn’t normally use this strap for oral, it was too big, but clearly Alexia wanted to prove a point with your lack of patience.

“Go slow.” 

You did go slow, but the tears sprung to your eyes just as quickly. She slowly pressed her hips to your face, the pressure on your throat was a lot, but it only built the pressure between your legs. 

“Keep going, you can take it.”

Your eyes closed as the tears ran down your cheeks. Her hand in your hair guiding you until your nose pressed against her firm stomach.

“That's it, your mouth is better when it's used for this, no?” She smiled down at you.

You opened your eyes, looking at the goddess above you. She wiped your tears with her free hand, it was a soft getsure considering her bravado was out in full swing. She cupped your chin as she pulled back, then slowly back in. The pace was slow but the spit in your mouth gathered fast, as the thick strap filled your throat. 

You stayed on your knees for a couple more minutes as Alexia fucked your throat with the biggest strap you owned. You kept your throat as relaxed as you could, as she watched you take her, her own cunt throbbing.

“Get up.” Alexia snapped. She gently pulled the strap out of your mouth.

You didn't have a chance to move before she easily picked you up to your feet. Her sheer strength showing itself again. 

She roughly turned you around, pulling your back against her chest. You let out a gasp as her teeth sunk into your shoulder.

“You’ve become very impatient, baby. Have you lost all your manners?” 

Her mouth started to suck where she bit you, her strap pressing into you as you let out a groan. She had a tight hold of your wrist behind your back, you couldn’t move with the grip she had on you. 

Another yelp escaped your mouth as her hand pulled at your hair. 

“Hmm?” 

“No. I-I just want you.”  

You felt her full lips smile against your skin as she gave you a gentle kiss. 

“But you were acting like a brat, I do not reward brats.”

“I’m sorryyyy.”

Another bite, another mark. 

“Let’s see what a spoilt little brat looks like while she gets fucked.” 

Before you could ask what she meant you were being pushed as close as she could get you to the floor length mirror. You were now only an arm length away from your reflection. You suddenly realised what she meant as you watched a sadistic smile creep on her face behind you. 

Her hands started pulling at your own shorts, roughly yanking them down to your ankles, bringing your underwear with it. Leaving your top half only in your sports bra. 

“Where’s all that talk now, baby?”

You jumped when you felt her fingers slide against your wet lips. 

She scoffed when she felt how wet you were. “You clearly enjoyed watching me. So messy, amor.” She purred in your ear. “You enjoy watching me don’t you?”

You nodded, your eyes closed as you saw yourself in the mirror, not able to escape the way you melted into her hot body. 

“Open your eyes.” 

You did what she said, you weren't about to be a brat with that tone. You saw yourself half naked in the mirror. Alexia was holding your wrist behind your back, as if you would try to escape. Her hazel eyes were on yours, watching you like you were the most beautiful creature in the world.

Two long fingers slid between your lips and circled your throbbing clit. You let out a quiet gasp, your eyes closed as she touched you with light but perfect touches. But your hair was being pulled once more.

“Close your eyes again and I’ll stop.” She whispered harshly in your ear.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as her fingers gathered your wetness.

“You will be.” Her teeth sunk into your neck as those long fingers easily entered your cunt.

You let out a loud gasp, Alexia had thick fingers, the strength of them alone was sometimes harder to take than a strap. 

“So tight.” She hissed, her breath tickling your hot neck. 

But before you could enjoy her fingers for much longer she removed them, her hand was on your neck, pushing you forward and her fingers sunk into your core from the back. Your face was inches from the mirror, your reflection clear as day.

“Fuck.” 

The new angle was tighter, but felt so much better. Her fingers in your cunt pushed in and out slowly, knowing exactly how to pull the cute noises she loved so much. Her talented fingers stroked your walls with perfect precision, you could feel yourself becoming wetter, you could even hear yourself getting wetter against her movements. 

But as soon as she got into a rhythm her fingers were gone, again. You were about to complain and ask why she had stopped, but you were silenced when you felt the head of her strap pushing against your lips. 

“Ale, please.”

“Do you think you have any say right now?” She chuckled deeply behind you. 

That same tone came out to play, it was the tone that you should know better than to open your mouth with. Your skin was hot, but the shivers that creeped on your skin would argue that fact, her stern voice had visibly affected you, and Alexia didn't miss it. Her free hand pushed on your shoulder, bending you right over, until your back was flat. Her fingers traced down your back, catching the dampness of your skin.

“Keep it straight.” 

That same tone came out to play, it was the tone that you should know better than to open your mouth with. If it wasn’t for the position you were in you might have been bold and shot back a sarcastic jab of your own. And maybe it was the frustration of having been tied up for over 20 minutes or the thick heat from the room that made your brain short circuit and fry, because you in fact did reply with a sarcastic jab.

“I've had to wait this long, now I have to bend over? I hope it's worth it.” You whispered, loud enough for her to hear.

You saw Alexia's face harden in the mirror, the grip she had on your wrist tightened as the head of her strap began to push into your core. You gritted your teeth as the plastic began to stretch you out, a loud groan escaped your throat, feeling the strap sliding inside of you. Even though she had her fingers in you just moments before the tight stretch was still there.  

You felt every inch of the strap, no matter how slow she went, the pressure of it made you hold your breath. She was slow as she pressed in, but even with gentle movements the girth took your breath away with the sheer size of it. You felt full.

Finally, you felt the sticky skin of her thighs pressing against yours, as she bottomed out in you, but before you could allow your body to get used to the fullness of her strap, she began to ease out of you. Normally the Spaniad would allow you to get used to the feeling of her inside, she would let you take her inch by inch and get used to the thickness. But you had quite frankly pissed her off with your little comment. You whimpered as her hips began dragging the strap against your tight walls, pulling herself completely out. The tip of her dick now kissed at your lips. 

It was when her hand gripped tightly on your shoulder you knew your cocky attitude was about to be fucked right out of you.

You were expecting it but you also wasn't. With one quick thrust of her hips she was back inside you. The next sound that escaped your mouth was indescribable, it was loud, it was dirty, it was completely pornagraphic, and it was music to Alexia's ears. Her pace was fast as soon as she started. Your mouth gaped open as she rocked her hips into you, causing your whole body to move from each strong thrust. Your legs were holding you up but it was the grip that she had on your shoulder that stopped you from falling over. 

Each quick thrust pushed a loud whimper from you, her pace was vicious. Your head fell forward, not able to keep it up from her brutal pace. 

“Uh ah. Head up, I want you to see how brats get fucked.”

Alexia’s hand gripped onto the ends of your hair, jerking your head up, causing you to let out a long pathetic whine. You felt your core tighten as you were met with the most animalistic scene in front of you. It was a mass of sweaty bodies, Alexia's toned figure rutted hard against you, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against the other bounced off the walls as her thighs slapped against yours. 

Your sweaty wrist rubbed against the rubber bound behind your back while she had you bent over, very much enjoying the view of her strap sliding in and out of your cunt. The smile on Alexia's face was dirty, it made your core tighten around her strap, you were at Alexia’s complete mercy and fuck, did it feel good.

The hot air in the room suddenly felt thicker as the oxygen from your lungs were forced out of you. The strength in her thrusts were almost painful, but Alexia knew you could take it, she knew your body and mind, she knew you would stop her if you had to, but there was no thought in your mind of uttering anything of the sort. 

The moisture from your breath started to steam up the reflective glass in front of you, as you let out small whimpers. You knew it was self indulgent but you didn’t hate catching glances of yourself being fucked, the sight before you was sinful, especially when you had someone like Alexia to watch.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You cried out.

You could feel your orgasm building, your legs and stomach muscles started to ache from the obscene position you were in, you weren't sure how long you would last like this, but you had a feeling Alexia wouldn’t care. You knew you would have pissed her off with your comment, and that’s exactly what you wanted, a pissed off Alexia.

Alexia’s mouth hung open as she felt her clit rubbing perfectly against the base of her strap, she started to pick up her pace chasing her own orgasm. The change of pace sent a wave of pleasure through your body, your cunt throbbed from the relentless thrusts of the girl behind you. 

“Yes, yes, don’t stop.” You breathed out.

Alexia bit her lip as she felt her pleasure building, the sounds of your moaning made her head dizzy with power. She picked up to a piston whip speed. Your mouth fell open as your body was forced to take Alexia’s new pace, you weren't even able to make any sounds from the sheer force of her hips. You felt your climax prickerling your body, the hot sweat that sat on your skin suddenly felt cold as the starts of your orgasm creeped through. 

The grip on your shoulder tightened, Alexia let out a deep throaty moan, you knew she was close, you watched as the muscles in her arms flexed, straining against her sweat covered skin. Your eyes followed her naked body, her muscles flexing as she drove into you, the wet slaps of sweaty skin colliding.

Your legs started to give in as your orgasm began to wash over you, your muscles were already jelly from your run, you felt your knees buckle as your pleasure took over. 

“Ale!” You cried out.

She felt your body giving up. She pulled you straight up, your back hitting her chest. You let out a high moan as her lips crashed into your sweat covered neck, kissing and sucking on your skin.

“I've got you.”

Her hips kept up the bruising pace, she was still chasing her own orgasm, it almost became too much, the pleasure was about to become painful until she groaned in your ear. That very familiar groan that made your head dizzy. Her hands wrapped around your neck, bringing your lips together, it was messy and hungry, your wet lips smacking against the other as her hips started to rut into you.

“Fuck.” She gasped.

Her normally stern face became a blissed out state as her orgasm hit her. Your eyes rolled into your head as small but heavy grunts escaped her mouth, making your clit throb. Her lips pressed into your neck as she slowly grinded into you, her hot body pressed up against yours taking what she needed. 

The hot room was just small sounds of your panting. She gently pulled out of you, her lips kissed your shoulder sweetly, causing you to shiver.

“You okay?” 

You smiled at her soft voice, a complete 360 of your session before.

“I’m so good. But I need a shower. A cold one.” You chuckled.

“Sí. Shower together?” She nuzzled into your neck. She was always so needy after an orgasm, it was the cutest thing to see.

“Together.” You pressed your lips to hers.

She began to to remove the harness from her hips.

"Don't forget me." You turned so she could until you.

"Hmm, I think I prefer you this way. Can we keep you like this until I'm done with you." She bit she shell of your ear, making you groan.

"Are you not done with me?" You moaned with pleasure as her nails scratched up your body.

"Not yet, I think we should test your endurance a little more."

[camlovesjace]

THE KING´S BRIDE ! King Jace x oc!fem

summary: you´ve been married to Jacaerys. warning; porn w plot, p in v, breeding kink (?, mention of pregnancy and need of a heir. short.

When you found out about your sudden marriage with the King you´ve been full of rage and shame. How dare your brother to marry you with someone you barely knew?

The responsibility of being queen wasn´t one you would´ve found delightful to smash your head with. It sounded like a torture. Yet, when you meet the man you were about to get married with, all problems seemed to fade away.

Jacaerys have had another betrothed before you, a lady called Baela. It seemed like things ended up before they've even started, the girl died on the dance of the dragons and it left Jace alone and bitter to everyone.

He´d rejected the idea of marriage until now, when his mother died suddenly one night on his bed and he found himself with her crown over his head as soon as he could even mourn her.

He needed a bride and he needed a heir.

And that's where you fitted in. The lady Stark, the youngest and only sister of Lord Cregan. Your name popped up first than any other and it flied to Jacaerys ears like honey.

A bound of his blood and the Stark house was something he couldn't say no to. So he accepted it, and now there you where.

Those few months being his wife hadn't been how you expected them to be, the responsibilities of the crown weren't on your shoulders but in between your legs, where your husband didn't waste any night to get in.

And you couldn´t complain at all.

Not when he was so kind, and so warm, and so devoted and so damn hot.

Now, when you had him deep buried on your cunt, you were thinking of how damn lucky you´d been.

His hands gripped your thighs firmly, holding them apart so he could thrust into you deeper. His cock always made you squirm of pleasure and you could feel his gaze on your face, it was so embarrassing and arousing at the same time.

"Stop holding on" he groaned, hitting his hips harder against you and making you cry out in pleasure. The head of his cock hitting that damn sweet spot inside you he knew perfectly well by now "Come on, i wanna feel you coming undone around my cock"

His words only made you feel more on the edge, his right hand left you thigh only to move up your cheek. You opened your eyes, gazing up at him, your lips were slightly parted and his gaze was dark. The touch delicate and soft of his palm on your cheek contrasted hardly with the rough way his cock was sliding inside your cunt, stretching you out.

"Oh, fuck-" you gasped breathless when his hand slide down and grabbed your throat. His grip was firm but not hurtful, the slight pressure making you feel him thrusting inside you even more clearly. A soft smile appeared on your face and it made him chuckle.

Gods, if you would´ve known before being married would been this fun.

"Come on, my queen...let go" he whispered, it was a soft spoken command, and simply you felt the third orgasm of the night hitting you.

The waves he´d been building inside you collapsed over you, sending shivers down your spine and making your legs to tighten around his hip. In response his hands gripped your hips, fucking you harder as you cried out his name.

He couldn't help but moan loudly as well when he felt your walls squeezing around his cock out, milking him for all he was worth of. Soon his cum explode inside, inking your walls with his seed. He groaned and buried his face between your breast as he spilled himself out inside his wife.

Their moaning were accompanied by the soft cracking of the wood on the fireplace, and he positioned himself on top of you, not wanting to leave your chest soon. His weight on top of you made you feel so at peace somehow, yet you knew that when he could take breath enough to fuck you again you would be on your knees, receiving his cock once again.

And as how you thought, it happened.

After some minutes between soft caresses and delicate kisses he got up, stocking his cock and slapping softly your upper thigh.

"on four" he commanded, not knowing that his committed was already done time ago. His seed was already rotted on her womb.

tag list; @nebulamorada @knight-of-flowerss @dearluuna (also, sorry, it's been a while without me appearing around here. if you want to me added or deleted of the tag list just comment here)

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Eight — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Everything is starting to get on top of reader and tensions rise. Azriel takes a trip to Fenlaros and comes away with a headache. Cassian does what Cassian does best. A friendly face swoops in to save the day.

Word count: 8.3k.

Warnings: A little freaky deaky 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni.

Azriel’s kiss is a burning brand.

It’s fire and ice and earth and rain. It tastes like freshly set snow, and it feels like the refined touch of a steeled warrior.

He kisses you like he aches for you. He pulls his hands away only to remove his gloves and chuck them aside, and then he’s clasping your face once more, skin on skin. He’s always so warm — a part of him you’ve missed.

And a part of him that drives you to kiss him back with barely any hesitation.

This — his mouth on yours — feels like the answer to a riddle you’ve been puzzling out for days, weeks, months, years. You’re gasping for air, and his tongue is sliding between your lips, and his taste overpowers you so thoroughly that you think it could break something inside of you.

There isn’t much furniture left in here. A few scattered tables, a shelf or two hanging off the wall. Not much to work with, and yet it doesn’t matter, because you and Azriel will have each other however you can. You’ve spent a lifetime making do with whatever you’ve got. This is no different.

Azriel’s hands fall down to your hips, and he’s lifting you so abruptly that a yelp leaves you and lands straight on his lips. Your arms loop around his neck, and he’s fastening your legs at his waist and stumbling with you — stumbling towards one of those old tables. A plume of dust erupts around you as he sets you down and slots himself between your legs.

“I fucking miss you.” He groans, grabbing your face. “I miss…us.”

You feel so many things. There’s no chance to sort through them, verbalise them, before his mouth slants over yours again. He’s hungry, needy. Hot and sinful. This Azriel is a far cry from the one who coyly confessed to his inexperience. This Azriel writes poetry onto your lips and paints masterpieces on your tongue. He kisses like eternal happiness depends on it. He kisses as though he’s been an artful lover for centuries.

He’s been practicing, the thought pops into your head.

Not with me, the realisation follows.

And that feels like being thrown stark-naked into the snow. It’s not a nice feeling — to realise that Azriel may be treating you to skill refined elsewhere. Not when you think about kissing him more than you’d like to admit to yourself. Does it make you a gods-damned hypocrite after what you did with Cassian? Perhaps.

But none of this — not one bit of it — is reasonable, or rational, or logical.

All you know is that your stomach lurches suddenly, violently, at the thought of where else Azriel’s lips might have been. And that’s all it takes for you to shove him away.

He stares at you, wide-eyed. Perplexed.

“I needed you.” You pant, the words tumbling from you in a flurry of charged emotion. You’re not sure you planned to say it. “On Solstice — I needed you.”

Azriel’s face changes in the blink of an eye. The hunger is gone, replaced by…something else. “Y/N—”

“I needed you, and you weren’t there. You promised me.”

“I know I did. And I’m sorry—”

“Did you even think of me?” It’s awkward, but you try to scramble back on the table. You just…need that distance right now. “Did you not wonder how I might be doing, how my day might be playing out in that hellish house, before you jumped into bed with Kaeda?”

“We didn’t—”

“Did you think of me?”

“Y/N, of course I thought of you.” He tries to clamp down on your legs, but you’re moving further away, damn near falling off the table in your efforts. “But you — you said you would come and find me. I waited for you—I—”

You’re really not sure if it’s a strangled sob or a choked laugh that fights its way up your throat. Perhaps it’s both. The sound of it is jarring, and it echoes around the armoury and reminds you of where you find yourself right now. The situation you’re in. How different things might be had Kaeda not come onto the scene.

“You waited for me?” You repeat, righting yourself. “And—what? Did you get bored? How do you think it felt, Azriel, when I came to find you — the only person I wanted to fucking be around in that moment — and you were busy with Kaeda on top of you? As if I needed my heart breaking any more that night.”

You hate it — hate it so viscerally that the words won’t stop coming. That you’re bringing your heart into this and allowing it to be stomped on again. Your eyes are watering, and you turn quickly before Az can see.

For a moment, he says and does absolutely nothing. And then he takes a step closer to you.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me. Believe me, I am.” He says. There’s another step. Another. He’s hovering at your back and you know he’s wondering whether he should reach out and touch you. “But, Y/N…you encouraged me to pursue things with Kaeda. Am I to apologise for that?”

You blink at his words so abruptly that your tears spill down your cheeks.

Now you’re laughing.

It’s a humourless laugh — a hysterical one. It breaks from you in a series of fractured, incredulous noises. At least the emotion boils your blood so thoroughly that it warms you from the inside.

“Apologise?” You round on Azriel, balling your fists at your sides. “No. You don’t need to fucking apologise. But you also don’t need me to practice on anymore, do you?”

He clamps down on his jaw, a telltale muscle moving. “I didn’t kiss you for that—”

“You kissed me because you miss me. Because I am…I’m just a security blanket, aren’t I? I’m what’s familiar, and you’re used to being around me, and having distance between us has fooled you into thinking that you want to kiss me.”

“No—”

“But you’ll kiss me…and make me feel good..and then the novelty will fucking wear off, and you’ll be running straight back to Kaeda because she is who you’ve wanted all along. Not me. Never me.”

“Cauldron, Y/N, will you just let me speak?!”

No.

You will not.

You can’t.

You can’t do this. You can’t break in front of him. You refuse to.

You want to sound strong, and sure, and unbothered, but you open your mouth, and the words are watery and broken. Weak.

“No.” You swallow a lump down. “No, I won’t. Just…just go, Az. I need some time.”

“We’ve spent the last week apart. That’s plenty of fucking time—”

“Go! Go back to Kaeda. Stop…stop pretending like this could play out any other way. It can’t. It won’t.”

“I’m not leaving on an unresolved fight. You and I don’t do that.”

You are far too beaten down to discuss this any longer. You shrug, and the gesture is an effort in itself. “I’m not sure I know what either of us do or don’t do anymore. Things have changed. Go.”

“Y/N—”

“Go!”

Finally, it seems to dawn on him — the realisation that you’re serious. You won’t be discussing this tonight. You’re not strong enough for that yet.

He falters a moment longer, so clearly not wanting to walk away. The two of you have never been like this. You can fight like the best of friends do, but you’ve always made the effort to resolve things, to not part on a bad word.

But things are different, now. You know it. Az knows it.

“…Fine.” He rasps after a long stint of silence. “I’ll go.”

You nod. If he’s expecting you to suddenly change your mind, he’ll be gravely disappointed.

His eyes sweep you once more, and then he’s turning. Dragging his feet to the door like a kicked animal.

“Az?” You call quietly, and he stops.

The hope in his eyes as he looks over his shoulder almost breaks your resolve. Almost, but not quite. “Yes?”

“Send Cassian next time.”

He doesn’t deign to reply.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Azriel is not well-versed in the world of dinner parties and propriety.

He has a few decent shirts he reserves for special occasions — like when Rhys’s mother cooks a nice meal, and he and the others dress up out of respect.

Y/N would laugh herself hoarse if she could see him right now.

A thought that stings almost as much as the intense, burning gaze of Tathaln Baralas, Lord of Fenlaros.

He’s a mammoth, domineering presence at the head of the dinner table, seeming to command every bite that each person takes of their food, every sip of their wine. It’s silent unless he speaks. It’s tense because he makes it tense.

He watches Azriel as though he’s going to finish his food and then take a bite out of the shadowsinger himself. Az’s shadows are taut around him, not wanting to make a spectacle of their brilliance. The dinner so far has felt like one big, held breath.

But finally, Tathaln clears his throat, and Kaeda and her brothers sit up straight. Az does the same.

“I trust your friends have fared well since your little adventure in my camp.” The Lord addresses Azriel. “I hope the punishment wasn’t too severe. I did many similar things in my youth — though I can’t say I was ever quite so bold as to venture into a rival territory.”

Azriel inclines his head slightly. “I wanted to apologise again — for what happened. Things got out of hand.”

“I’m partly to blame, father, as you know.” Kaeda adds. Azriel damn near jumps out of his seat as her hand lands on his thigh beneath the table. “It was my idea to invite my friends from Windhaven. An oversight, perhaps, on my part. I was eager to show Azriel what Fenlaros has to offer.”

Tathaln seems to think on that as he chews his food. He washes it down with a gulp of wine and reaches for the carafe to refill his glass. The whole thing feels like somewhat of a performance, and nobody speaks a word as it plays out.

This family dynamic is…odd. Not that Azriel has much experience where normal family dynamics are concerned. But there’s a formality with which Kaeda and her brothers — not that the two males have breathed a word this entire meal — address their flesh and blood. Like he is their Lord first, and father second.

And that isn’t unusual for Illyrians — not at all. Offspring are, more often than not, treated like a prospective trophy to be paraded in front of competing families. The fiercer, more ruthless the child is, the prouder the parent will be. It’s a brutal, ugly way of living that never changes, no matter how many generations stack up.

But perhaps Azriel is at fault for having too high an expectation. Perhaps he shouldn’t ever have been fooled by Kaeda’s wings and spirit being left intact, unlike most females around her.

Tathaln is a puppeteer, and Kaeda and her brothers are his dutiful puppets.

“There was no particular harm done.” The Lord eventually says — rather reasonable, for an Illyrian. “I imagine you received a stern talking to. Revoked privileges, perhaps?”

“Lord Devlon saw fit to lecture us, yes.” Azriel concurs with a nod. “But besides that, we weren’t really handed any punishment. It was my friend, Y/N, who bore the brunt of his wrath. She’s been forced into homelessness as a result.”

A sudden, sharp kick lands on Az’s leg from beside him. He glances at Kaeda in his periphery, eyes the fierce expression with which she looks at him. It seems to be communicating, don’t bring this up now.

But Az wants to bring it up. He’s pissed off; more so than he initially thought. At himself, mostly, and at Devlon, at Rhys’s father, maybe even a little at Kaeda — at everyone really.

Tathaln pauses, his fork mid-air. And then he sits back. “Right — the girl that was here. Why has she been made homeless?”

Girl. It’s a sneer of a word in Illyrian mouths. Azriel has to clamp down on his jaw and remind himself that confronting the sexism that runs through their veins is a fruitless task in that moment.

And Kaeda sighs at his side. As if she’d rather be talking in great detail about the roasting of a boar, than about Y/N.

But it answers a question that’s been rattling around in Azriel’s mind all evening — that no, Kaeda had clearly not mentioned Y/N to her father, as she said she would.

“Her father kicked her out on Solstice.” Az explains. “He’s not a good male, to say the least. Y/N was living with myself and my friends, but after the events that unfolded here in Fenlaros, she was sworn off having any contact with us, because Lord Devlon seems to think that she’s the driving force behind any and every bad choice we make. She has nowhere else to go. It’s…worrying.”

“Perhaps she’ll think twice before wandering into rival camps.” Finally, one of Kaeda’s brothers speaks. Arlen, Azriel thinks his name is. Clearly the idiot doesn’t see the irony of his statement.

Or perhaps Kaeda doesn’t have to adhere to the rules that every other female is strictly held under.

“Arlen.” The Lord shoots him a warning glance. He turns back to Azriel. “I would argue that Lord Devlon is full of shit.”

Azriel stops. Blinks. That…that’s not what he was expecting.

“How so, father?” Kaeda’s brow furrows.

“It’s his job to keep the soldiers under his command in line, no?” Tathaln’s dark, feline eyes are assessing Azriel as he speaks — seeming to read his response. “If he finds that a single female is the cause of such disruption, perhaps it is himself he should look at. He can’t be a great leader if he has to resort to such extremes just to keep his soldiers under control, now, can he?”

Az stares back at him. The question is meant for him, but it all seems too…too easy. Reason and logic are simply not a common thing among these people. The words sound almost…false. Forced.

“No.” Azriel agrees. “I suppose not.”

“Do you find him to be an adequate leader?”

“I’ve never known any different.”

Tathaln’s mouth tips up. “That isn’t what I asked.”

No, it isn’t. But this is a fine line Azriel is treading. He positively despises Lord Devlon — thinks him an arrogant brute who uses his title to flout camp laws and customs and turn everything in his favour. Not to mention the fact that he and his cronies are so clearly threatened by Az, Rhys and Cass — an undoubtedly formidable trio. Azriel is sure that if Devlon had his way, the three of them would be slung out by their necks. Or hung by them.

But his personal feelings towards the Lord of Windhaven doesn’t change the fact that openly disrespecting him — and to the lord of another camp — is a huge dishonour. One that could blow up in Azriel’s face if this conversation were to somehow make its way back to Devlon. He has to choose his words carefully.

“He has a method of leadership that I can’t say I’m in agreement with.” Gods, he is the epitome and personification of diplomacy, if he does say so himself. Ten points to the shadowsinger. “I’m not sure that using his power to target vulnerable females was ever part of his job description. I’m sure, as a father to a female of the same age, you can see where I’m coming from.”

Tathaln takes another pensive sip of his wine. He inclines his head. “Indeed, I do. I think it’s terrible leadership. And I think you’re wasted in Windhaven.”

“I appreciate that, my lord.”

“There is no need for modesty, Azriel, the shadowsinger.” As he speaks, the Lord’s eyes inch towards those very shadows. He studies them with a strange expression that looks almost like…hunger. “Do you know why I sent my Kaeda to your camp? I may as well admit, I have an agenda.”

Azriel glances at Kaeda. She’s staring at her plate, shoulders squared. “Oh?”

“I sent her there to scope out the quality of the units that are being trained in the Windhaven Camp. My sons were sent on similar missions to other camps — Camp Theriel, Camp Steelshore, Camp Aruin. The consensus of what was reported back to me regarding each camp was that potential is not being filled. Quite frankly, a mockery is being made of Illyrians by the poor training of these legions. If war was waged tomorrow, half of our race could be wiped out.”

Bold, bold words.

Azriel finds himself stunned silent.

“We are Illyrians, no?” A thick, callused finger traces the rim of Tathaln’s chalice. “We are a warrior race. We have birthed some of the fiercest warriors in Prythian’s history and decimated tens of thousands across battlefields. And yet, it would seem, these days, that our camps are producing fewer warriors, and far more lazy, unambitious brutes who care only about drinking and fighting and fucking. Our reputation could be destroyed yet.”

This is…bizarre, Az thinks.

He also thinks that it’s a little unfair. He’s the last person to ever defend the creatures around him that are supposedly his brethren, but he also thinks that Tathaln’s assessment is wildly exaggerated.

Illyrians drink, yes, and fight, yes, and fuck, yes. But they do so in between harsh, gruelling training. They drink to forget the brutal nature of their life’s work. They fight each other because they’re just as angry as one another, and that needs an outlet. They seek pleasure, because it’s one of the few good things to be found in these parts.

Their training is not for the faint of heart. You train well, or you die. It’s that simple.

And if Tathaln, Lord of Fenlaros, truly has such concerns, Azriel doesn’t understand why the fuck they’re being presented to him, of all people.

“Is this something you’ve raised with the High Lord?” He asks — he isn’t sure he even means to say it.

Kaeda tenses beside him, and Az wonders if, perhaps, he’s overstepped the mark. But Tathaln seems somewhat pleased by the question — seems pleased that Azriel is engaged in the discussion.

“It is.” The male answers. “And I think he finds himself agreeable to what I’ve had to say. However, I haven’t yet presented my solution — what I believe to be the right course of action.”

Az takes the bait. “Which is what?”

“Eventually,” Tathaln says, “I would do away with the individual camps entirely. I would have one, sole camp to train Illyrian warriors, overseen by the most powerful members of our race. Members with rare, unique powers who can draw on the Illyrian potential and make our people what we were always supposed to be. What we once were, before we became too complacent. Better, even.”

And just like that, it makes sense that Tathaln is sharing such things with Az.

Rare, unique powers. Powers like that of a shadowsinger. So incredibly unique that Azriel has never met another of his kind.

Tathaln has ambition — he covets power. He has a vision that needs backing.

It’s like everything suddenly clicks into place in Azriel’s mind.

He finds himself looking at Kaeda, not her father. Finds himself wondering if she ever had genuine interest in him, or if that interest came entirely from Tathaln. Finally, she lifts her gaze to his, and she wears a strange, pleading look.

“Don’t get me wrong, shadowsinger.” Tathaln says. “This is not a goal that could be achieved overnight. Power takes time to build. I couldn’t take this idea to the High Lord without something to back it up — something to get him on side.”

Azriel shrugs. “But what would you have me do? I’m just a soldier in training—”

“You are a shadowsinger. Do you even realise what an asset that makes you? Perhaps your poor start in life, your mistreatment, has caused you to downplay your potential. But I see it. Your power could be a lethal weapon on a battlefield. And off a battlefield. There is so much you could be doing, and yet Lord Devlon has you landing punches on a sparring dummy and calls it training? You are made for better things than that.”

Praise is…it’s a rare thing, in Azriel’s world. And he doesn’t care about that, because the little praise he does get comes from the people who matter, and that’s all he needs.

But hearing somebody other than his close friends — his family — speak so highly of him, is…new. And he’d be lying if he claimed not to like it.

Still, Tathaln is clearly beating around the proverbial. Azriel almost doesn’t want the discussion to go any further, because his head is already full to the brim with swimming thoughts and close to exploding. But they’ve come this far already; he may as well learn what his role in this bigger agenda would be.

“What is it you want from me, my Lord?” He asks.

A small smile plays on Tathaln’s mouth. His eyes, yet again, are on Azriel’s shadows, rather than Az himself. “As I said, change cannot be made overnight. It would take years — generations, perhaps. I would need enough males — strong males — backing my cause, before the High Lord would even hear of it. But I am a patient male. I know what I want, what is right for Illyria, and I will do everything in my power to make it happen. Starting with strengthening my camp. Being known as the strongest of all camps. And strengthening my influence, too.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“Having your power on my side could be a good thing for me. And I could hone you. I believe this mission starts with you. Abandon Windhaven and take up residence in Fenlaros. Train under my command. Come and see exactly how wasted you are in that place. Come and see what we could build together.”

“You want me to be your pet?” Azriel raises an eyebrow. “Your project?”

“I want to hone your potential and show you what an asset you are. I want Illyrians to be a feared people once more. I want to build the strongest, most powerful army in all of Prythian and make Illyria what it was always supposed to be.”

In the wake of the impassioned speech, silence sweeps in. Azriel is staring at his plate, and he thinks he might be feeling cold all over. There’s a strange tingling at the back of his neck — like a warning sign.

He still doesn’t understand why he’d be integral to such an agenda. He’s a shadowsinger, yes, and that is not to be downplayed, but he’s just Azriel. He’s just an Illyrian who trains to fight, and fights to kill, and to one day be killed. That is simply how it is.

And Windhaven — ugly and cold and harrowing as it is — is his home. His family is there. A cottage that is far too small and cramped to house a group of adults but is always a beacon of light and hope and warmth. A place in which he’s made wonderful memories and felt genuine happiness. He’s happy to tolerate the hellish ways of life around him, because he has beautiful things in front of him.

Beautiful things that wouldn’t follow him to Fenlaros. Yes, he may have broken a rule and breached a camp to attend a party — but doing so under casual circumstances is wildly different to doing so under official ones. As a soldier of Fenlaros — as one of Tathaln’s puppets — he would be expected to adhere to the strict rules and standards that he metes out. Fenlaros would be his territory, and there would be no blurring of those lines.

But could Tathaln really be seeing more potential in Azriel than had ever been noticed before? Could it truly be that Fenlaros has more to offer him? More to be done for him?

“I would be turning my back on everything I know.” Az says, the mere words tasting sour in his mouth. “My loved ones. The family I’ve built. They would be left behind. I’m not under any illusion that you’d allow our two camps to interact if I came here.”

Tathaln dips his chin. “I am not going to sugarcoat that. It would be an adjustment, and a painful one at first. But there is far more for you here, shadowsinger. I simply ask that you consider it. Just as I believe your two brothers would consider it, if I were to present the offer to them.”

“And why haven’t you? Presented it to them? Why me?”

Those dark, calculating eyes swallow him up. “I need a shadowsinger. It starts with you.”

Azriel isn’t even sure what that means, and he doesn’t want to think about it any longer. There’s a lump in his throat. His appetite is well and truly gone. He might even be sick.

He couldn’t possibly leave his family. The thought makes him violently ill.

“As I said, all I ask is for your consideration.” Tathaln watches him. And then his eyes slide to his daughter. “As this meal is clearly over, perhaps Kaeda should show you around Fenlaros. Show you what this place might have to offer. Give the shadowsinger a tour, my sweet.”

Kaeda smiles broadly. “Yes, father.”

Az wants to refuse, but he can’t find the words. Too much is going on in his head. He wants to get out of there and go straight back to Windhaven, where it’s familiar and where love waits for him. He doesn’t want to be a component in a greater agenda.

When he met Kaeda, it was simply about…exploring attraction. About experiencing. Not about this.

But he can’t fucking speak. He stands without telling his body to stand.

And for some reason, when Kaeda slides her hand into his, murmurs a soft “come, Azriel”, he doesn’t protest.

Numb and stunned and sick to his stomach he may be. But he follows.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Azriel isn’t sure if he’s heard a single word that has left Kaeda’s mouth.

She speaks, and yet it’s simply background noise. He can’t hear around the screeching in his head.

He should really just take to the skies and fly home, but perhaps he’s already a puppet — his feet stay on Fenlaros turf. Kaeda guides him around the camp as though the conversation at dinner never happened. She shows him her favourite haunts and introduces him to people whose names he forgets instantly.

It's up on a viewpoint overlooking the camp, just he and Kaeda alone, that he finally releases a slow, weary breath. He folds his arms against the railing and welcomes the cold air biting into his skin. Kaeda stands just a short distance away.

“We call this area the Widow’s Watch.” She says, daring a step closer. “It’s said that centuries ago, at the end of battle, the camp wives would gather up here with firelit torches and await their husbands’ return. If their husband returned, they’d extinguish the torch. Those that were left burning signified who did not return from war.”

Azriel says nothing; isn’t sure he’s capable. He digs his fingers into his arm.

Eventually, Kaeda stops at his side, also bracing her arms on the railing. She looks out over the camp wistfully, as though she can see hordes of wounded soldiers returning home. “I can’t imagine how eerie that sight must have been — the beacons of the dead painting the sky with fire.”

“No,” the agreement leaves the shadowsinger unexpectedly — surprises even him. “Neither can I.”

It’s then that Kaeda angles herself towards him just slightly. He meets her gaze. She’s so very beautiful — the kind of female that artists beg to paint. Her cheekbones are high and defined, her lips full. Her eyes look like shards of glimmering green rock. Never is there a hair out of place. Never a stray lash or smudged rouge. She is, quite simply, a vision.

But Az finds himself wondering if he’s ever known any part of her, or if she’s just following orders.

“I know you must have questions.” She eyes him cautiously.

“So many that my brain can’t keep up.” He takes a small step away. “Have you ever been genuinely interested in me?”

“I have.”

“Your father literally sent you to cozy up to me.”

Her eyes shutter, thick lashes fanning against her skin. “It wasn’t like that, Azriel. I mean — it was, to some degree. You’re right that my father sent me, and that he already had his sights set on you. I work for him. I’m training as his spymaster.” She opens those eyes again — wide. “Yes, he told me to get to know you. But he didn’t say romantically. That was all me. I just…like you.”

Gods, it should feel good, feel like a positive thing, to hear that. To know that the beautiful female he’s been getting to know these past months has genuine interest in him.

But he feels…nothing. No sense of relief. Only the anger that’s still simmering at this entire thing being orchestrated by her father.

“Does it not bother you?” His tone is brusque, sharp, as he stares Kaeda down. “That your father has you do his bidding? You’re a pawn in a game.”

“My father has a vision. It is an honour to serve him, and to be a contributor to that vision eventually coming to fruition. I will not apologise for that.”

“A vision. To create…to create one fucking super camp that he is to oversee? It sounds to me like your father has a hunger for power. Things have worked this way in Illyria for millennia. Why should they be changed now?”

Kaeda shakes her head. “You’re wrong. Things aren’t working. That’s just the problem.”

“You—”

“Are you proud to be an Illyrian, Azriel?” She steps closer to him; perhaps too close. “I’m not. Not with how things are right now. But I want to be. We are a warrior race. We are supposed to train, and fight, and protect. We’re supposed to be formidable. We’re supposed to be feared. But with the way things are going, fewer and fewer of those things are remaining true. If we don’t change how things are run across these camps and light a fire under our soldiers’ asses, half of our people could be wiped out when the next war comes. The Illyrian race could cease to exist entirely, and our legacy will be left at the mercy of rhyme and tale. We can’t allow that to be the case.”

Azriel studies her.

Her passion is…intense, yes, but also strangely beautiful. There’s a ferocity in her eyes that is so rare among a people who live and breathe misery; whose lot in life is to die.

That doesn’t mean, of course, that he appreciates Tathaln’s scheming, nor Kaeda’s. But they’re not exactly wrong in that ambition is a rare commodity these days. Those who can train for the Illyrian army do so because it’s what is expected of them. Those who aren’t cut out for it make do with everyday jobs around camp. Nobody has pride or passion. Nobody is prepared for war.

So Azriel’s shoulders relax just a little, even though his scepticism remains very much present. “I still don’t understand why I am being scouted for this cause, though. Why not take it to the High Lord? Or why not get Rhysand on side?”

Kaeda shakes her head. “As my father explained, we simply don’t have enough backing to go to the High Lord about this idea — not yet. He knows of my father’s opinion and even agrees that things need to change, but such a complex idea requires careful handling. And conspiring with his son about it would surely not put us in his favour.”

“So…what? I’m the next best thing?”

“After Rhysand, you’re the most powerful, yes. Your influence could aid us greatly. I don’t think you realise how highly coveted you are. Every other camp is aware of the fact that Windhaven has a shadowsinger. And they’re equally aware that your abilities aren’t being put to their full potential under Lord Devlon’s command. Changes will be made whether you accept my father’s offer or not, Azriel. But the changes we’re proposing are the best ones. The right ones.”

“I don’t see what’s right about having to leave my friends — my brothers—”

“Gods, Azriel, just…just take the emotion out of this for five seconds and listen to me.”

Az’s jaw clenches. “I am listening.”

“Then hear me clearly. Change is coming. It’s inevitable. And one thing I can tell you with absolute certainty is that even if you weren’t to come to Fenlaros, you would still be separated from your friends, or your brothers, or whatever you call them.” She hovers close enough to touch, now, mere inches from him. “One thing I’ve picked up on in Windhaven is that Lord Devlon is very intimidated by the strength of you, Cassian and Rhysand being together. The older you get, the more powerful you’re becoming, and people are growing aware of that. Devlon intends to separate the three of you, and by any means necessary. He can’t risk the threat you pose to him. He’ll tear you apart.”

The information doesn’t surprise Az one bit. He’s sensed a growing panic amongst Devlon and his cronies. They don’t stand a chance against the future High Lord and his two closest friends. And Azriel doesn’t doubt that if physical separation didn’t work, the callous bastards would resort to something far, far worse. Or try, at least.

But still, none of this is making any fucking sense to him. He needs a stiff drink. Or twenty. “How would coming to Fenlaros solve that in any way?”

“Beating Devlon at his own game — separating yourself from your brothers — will lure him into a false sense of security. With you gone, it’ll be one less problem to worry about. He’ll let his guard down. Meanwhile, we’ll be building our influence here and forming a case that can be taken to the High Lord. With his support of our changes, we’ll have the power to do more. And then eventually…eventually, your brothers can join you here. When we have more ground to work on. My father would never begrudge the bond the three of you have. He’d see it as a positive…having three such powerful Illyrians under his command.”

Too much to think about. Way, way too much. Azriel just wants to get out of there. He wants to lie down in a dark room and pretend nothing and no one exists.

But he stares at Kaeda. And he asks, “And what of Y/N? Could she come here, too?”

There’s a very slight hesitance — small, but certainly there. But then she purses her lips, and she shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

He’s not sure she means it. And that…that’s a whole other rabbit hole he’s not sure he can face going down right now. Another situation entirely.

Before he can say anything else, Kaeda closes the gap between them. She cups his face and leans up, close enough that their mouths are almost touching.

“Just think about it. That’s all I ask.” She says. “I really do like you, Azriel. And I really do think we could have something. Think of what we could do here, together. Of what we could be. We could make history. Just…promise me you’ll think about it.”

His lips part with a response he hasn’t even thought of. But there’s no chance to speak it as Kaeda slants her mouth over his and kisses him slowly, softly. Deeply.

Her fingers sink into the strands of his hair, and she breathes a muted hum into his mouth. She tastes like peppermint and sugar, and she kisses as though she hasn’t just laid the weight of the world on Azriel’s shoulders.

And that weight might be why he’s stiff as a board, barely reacting. Or it might be the horrible feeling of dread that this is all wrong. He kissed another female, earlier today — and that kiss had felt like burning, eternal sunshine.

This one feels like…like a ploy.

“Just promise me.” She pulls away just enough to whisper. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”

There’s no way he can’t think about it. The seeds have been sown. And perhaps he feels a little slither of guilt for how rigid and cold he currently is, because he doesn’t shoot her plea down like he should.

He sucks in a slow breath and inclines his head.

“Okay.” He says. “I’ll think about it.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The fucking wall is Azriel’s fucking face.

At least, that’s what the fuck you tell yourself as you send a dagger hurtling at it and watch it bury its point into the surface. Another scuff mark to add to the growing smattering, all courtesy of you.

Fuck. Him.

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so angry in your life, and Cauldron knows, you’ve had ample reason to. But this anger is…it’s consuming. It’s violent and jagged and nauseating. It’s claws sinking into your heart and your brain and dissecting everything that plagues you in both sleep and consciousness.

And it’s this severe because you care. You care so very much.

You’re sick of caring.

Why would he kiss you, after all that has happened since the last time? To taunt you? To grab your feelings in his fist and twist them? To practice on you?

And to think you almost gave in to that strange, carnal need to have his hands on you again. You cannot — will not — allow yourself to think about which deeper emotion or desire that need is rooted in. Thinking will lead only to realisations that may destroy you yet.

And he’s probably with Kaeda right now, too. Perhaps losing himself in her, forgetting all about you with the aid of her touch—

You scowl and march to the wall, yanking your dagger out. Your anger and your need to just…move, is keeping you warm, at least. Nighttime in the old armoury is about as pitiful as can be imagined, but the relentless cold is actually a strange…relief. It hurts in a satisfying way.

How fucking dare he, your mind chants, not for the first time, as you stalk back to your spot. How dare he treat you as though you’re nothing? You brace yourself and send the dagger hurtling towards the wall once again—

The door is suddenly bursting open, and the weapon only just misses Cassian’s face on its journey as he strides in, arms full of items you don’t care to look at.

He stops abruptly. Blinks. “Did you just throw a dagger at me?”

“No.” You immediately scowl, stalking over to retrieve it yet again. “Fuck you.”

“Ouch. Fuck you right back. I brought blankets and food.”

“Shove them up your ass.”

“I’d really rather not.” He kicks the door shut behind him and strides over to the pile of your scant belongings, dropping his items and freeing his arms. He turns back to you with raised eyebrows. “Is there a particular reason you’re acting like a little storm cloud, or is it just a way to pass the time?”

Finally, you sheath your blade — partly because you’re not sure you trust yourself with it right now. You face your friend, fully aware that you’re out of line and fully resentful of the fact.

“I had an argument with Az.” You admit, not even certain you mean to.

Cassian’s eyebrows raise. “Well, that explains why he nearly bit my head off earlier, too. What did you fight about?”

Do you tell him? Do you confess all your complicated, messed up feelings — the bizarre circumstances that brought them about — when you haven’t even sorted through them yourself? No. You can’t. It’s a bit too soon for that.

“It was…nothing.” You stalk over to your things. “Just nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing—”

“Thank you for bringing me these.” You toe a thick blanket with your boot.

Yet again, Cassian’s eyebrows go up. “Are you hinting at me to leave?”

“Just because I have to face the night in this hovel, doesn’t mean you should be subjected to the same fate. I wouldn’t expect that of you.”

“Well, fucking expect it, because I’m staying—”

“Cass—”

“Come here.” He opens his arms. “Right now.”

You stare at him. And in that instant, with him seeing you — seeing everything you are, everything you’re feeling, what you need — your anger simmers, and it threatens to turn into tears.

“You clearly need a hug.” He points out softly. “And I’ve missed you this past week. So come here.”

In an instant, you crumble. You’re stepping forward and damn near falling into Cassian’s arms. He catches you, just like he always catches you.

His arms band around you, warmer and more secure than any blanket. He pulls you tightly against him, and you allow your arms to snake around his waist. It’s only then that you realise how much you need the firmness of his body to hold you up. He’s like a huge, supporting wall that stops you sinking to your knees.

“I’m so sad.” You whisper, nestling your face into his chest. His scent and his warmth permeate his clothes, and they combine and wash over you in a soothing combination.

“I know.” His broad hand cups the back of your head. “Everything is a huge mess right now. But we’re going to get through it — together.”

You hate that you can’t believe him; not right now. Everything is too up in the air, too uncertain. A dark mass has followed you around this camp for the entirety of your life, and it’s closer than ever to closing in and snuffing out who you are.

“How can you be so sure?” You ask. “I don’t think I have the strength to fight anymore, Cass.”

He pulls back to study you. To cup your face and look into your eyes. “Yes.” He says firmly. “You do. You always have and you always will. There is nothing — nothing — you can’t face. I truly believe that, Y/N.”

Staring back at him feels just like…like the night in the cottage, when you lost yourself in him. Him being there for you, speaking the words that are so hard to believe and yet so what you need to hear. The same urge arises in you to give over to those feelings. Do something for yourself for once.

You think Cassian might read that thought on your face. Perhaps you wear it shamelessly.

He studies you closely — studies you hard. And his throat bobs as his eyes flit down to your lips.

“Y/N.” He says. “Let me make you feel good.”

You swallow, also. And you don’t need to think about it. “Yes.” You nod. “Yes.”

In a flash, he’s closing the gap between you, his mouth finding yours. The hot and heavy weight of his lips is a relief. One that makes you release a soft sigh.

You don’t let yourself think about the fact that you were kissing Azriel in this very building only earlier. Nor about the fact that it could have gone much further than that. Cassian gives you himself, and you take, your hands bunching in his jacket as you haul him against you.

His hand fists in your hair, tilting your face up to him. And as his mouth stains yours with his urgent need, he’s backing you up, walking you back and back until you collide with that very table that Az kissed you on earlier.  Cassian picks you up in an easy sweep and places you on the tabletop. He parts your legs and slots himself in between, his mouth never once leaving yours, never once faltering.

Until he parts from you and says, “Lie back.”

With his hand guiding you down, you do just that. You sprawl out on that table, anticipation coiling in your stomach. It warms you from the inside, makes your skin too hot and your clothes too heavy.

Cassian doesn’t mess around with teasing or taunting. He drags his hands over your breasts, your stomach, and down to the laces at your breeches. You don’t care about the cold air. You lift your hips and wish only for him to undo those laces faster. You want your skin bare, and his touch marking it.

“I didn’t get to taste you last time.” Your friend pants, pressing a kiss to your abdomen. “Will you let me now?”

Goosebumps erupt over you skin. You grip onto the edges of the table and breathe, desperately. “Yes. Please.”

So boldly, he yanks your breeches and undergarments down in one go. His fingers find the very centre of you, already soaked, already ready for him. What he finds there makes him groan.

“Here? You’ll let me taste you here?”

“Please.” You pant again. “Just…please, Cass. I need this.”

“I know.” A kiss lands on your skin. “I know.”

His hands drag down your legs at the same time he sinks to his knees. You bow your head forward — just to watch the predatory grace with which he aligns his face with your sex. He licks his lips like you’ve presented him with his most carnal desire.

He inhales slowly — breathes in your scent. A growl rips from his throat.

And then he dives right in.

His tongue licks a stripe up your centre, from your entrance, up to your clit. Your hips buck at the contact, one hand moving to bunch within his hair. As his tongue swirls over your clit, pleasure barrels through you that ends in a cry.

“Your taste is fucking divine.” Cass groans, and his hands pry your legs further apart. He wastes no time in lapping at your juices, damn near fucking drinking you down. He drinks and drinks like a male parched. “Gods, Y/N.”

“More.” You gasp, thrusting your hips towards him. You grind your cunt against his face, and you can’t stop your body jerking, your head lolling back. “Gods, Cass, more.”

“More?” His teeth graze against the sensitive nub. “Tell me what you need.”

“Your mouth. Fingers. You.”

A delicious, sinful chuckle, so incredibly deep and lilting, breaks from Cass and vibrates against you. He lands a harsh suck on your clit. “I love how filthy you are.”

And he shows you how much he loves it, as one finger suddenly gathers up your wetness and teases your entrance. You moan, plead, beg him to slip it into you. He does so at the same time that he fastens his lips to your clit and strokes at it with his tongue.

You feel him smile against you. Your responses seem to provide him with almost as much pleasure as your touch would.

“Just like that.” He growls the words onto you, sliding his finger out and back in — adds a second one. “Take what you need. Fuck my fingers.”

You need this pleasure. This release. He has no idea how much you need it. Nobody does. You need to feel like somebody else, feel like you’re somewhere else. You need to feel something other than…blinding pain.

And so you take what you fucking need, undulating your hips and moving yourself on his fingers, against his tongue. Cassian follows your lead, keeps up with your pace. As your moans pick up, so do the thrusts of his hand.

“Going to come for me?” His hand moves faster. “Come around my fingers?”

“Yes.” You throw your head back. “Fuck—Cass.”

“Come.” He growls. “Want to feel you.”

It’s as if your body is fully under his command, because the words have your climax bursting through your body and chasing you from every negative feeling that’s been plaguing you. It feels beautifully catastrophic, fucking mind-altering. It feels like an out of body experience.

You know, somewhere in your mind, that you’re being loud, but you don’t give a single damn. You welcome your orgasm and allow it to consume you. You allow your loud, gasping noises to echo around the building.

But perhaps it’s the loud volume of those noises that prevents both you and Cass from hearing the door open behind you. Perhaps it’s the heat of your passion that makes you immune to the sudden gust of cold air.

Whatever it is, neither of you notice a third presence until a voice bellows behind you.

“Cauldron fucking boil me, my eyes!”

Both you and Cass rise with a start, you scrambling to cover yourself. A horrified expression stares back at you both.

“Roza.” You both say at the same time. Both blink in shock, too.

Rhysand’s mother covers her eyes with her hand and turns her back to you.

“Please correct yourselves before you traumatise me any more.” She says. “Can’t turn my back on you idiots for five gods-damn minutes.”

azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELSS -II - I DON'T CARE 'BOUT CONSEQUENCES, I WANT MY LICK BACK

« previous part

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

II - I DON'T CARE 'BOUT CONSEQUENCES, I WANT MY LICK BACK

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warning: Mature themes and its 🌶 🌶 🌶 

Summary: The title says it all.

You step one good in front of the other. You can feel your pulse in your throat. Hear it in your ears. Your palms are hot and anger is what’s fuelling you. You keep walking. A patron swings the door open and you scan the establishment. The venue is different to the previous restaurant, less upscale and easier to disappear into. You’re looking for one person and one person only. Sighing out of frustration you head to the bar, a bartender materializes in front of you in a minute.

“Is Rio here?” You ask.

“Anything to drink?” He asks.

Letting out a long sigh you take a look over the top shelf contemplating it. “Nothing for now, is he in?” You ask liable to blow any minute now and the bartender steps away whispering something to another. You watch closely as they disappear. You feel like breaking dishes, trashing the house and vandalising the car. You wish you could scream.

“He’s upstairs” the bartender says, snapping you from your daydream. Standing, you head up the long staircase. You emerge into an office with a Birds Eye view of the establishment. Rio is sitting in the middle of it behind a wooden desk with money piled high on the corner of it. His calm is in stark contrast to the mania you’re feeling.

“Let me guess, you want to commit a murder” he says breaking the silence with his naturally cool demeanour and that distinct voice. 

“Don’t mock me” you warn and he smiles, pouring a glass and setting it in front of you as you take a seat on the couch in the sprawling space. You take a sip only for the liquor to burn your throat due to inexperience. You make a face and the liquor quells your temper a touch. When your eyes reopen Rio’s amusement is clear as day. You spent three hours getting ready for date night the night you met Rio. Your husband's new role at work was demanding and there’d been distance so you were trying to mend fences and reignite a spark. He’d left and for your pride you picked at what was left of your food from the bar. Rio had been forward antagonistic and amusing, but he hadn't lied.

“Don’t be too mad, she’s not sexier than you are” he says sipping from your glass.

“We’ve been married five years,” you confess to the stranger. Anyone else and your life would be blown up forever. 

“No kids?” he asks.

“Not yet, kids are a part of the ten year plan” you confess meeting Rio’s eyes. You have nowhere else to go. No one else to talk to. Sometimes secrets are safest with a stranger. He holds out the glass again and you take a shot of the brown liquor feeling the burn.

“Ten year plan, where the fuck do you find a guy like that?” Rio muses at your expense. Sighing deeply you look down into the club's festivities as people start to dance. “How’d you find out? She came to you as a woman?”

“Worse, I saw it on his phone. Text thread full of nudes and videos…” you sigh wishing you could unsee the messages from both ends. It was clear your husband was absolutely feral for another woman and vice versa.

“So you’re here to have him killed or beat up or what?” Rio asks, misreading you.

“No” you respond not wanting someone to get a charge for your husband's poor choices.

“Then how can I help you? It’s getting late.” Rio says draining the glass. Your time is up for his thin patience.

“I told you we can’t hang out because I’m married.” You respond by holding up your left hand. The ring is on your dresser at home. 

“So you want me to fuck you as get back. But if we start you’re not gonna want him and I’m not marriage material” Rio says candidly. 

“Perfect” you smile liking the sound of that. You’re going to make your husband pay for his recklessness and absence. You imagine the shock when it hits him that Rio has had you. The thrill is your medicine. It’s the only thing that quells the pain of your husband's betrayal.

“Bet” Rio stands holding out a hand. You take a deep breath taking it as you stand. You use another staircase to a back entrance. You hate the city a little less from inside of his G-Wagon. The ride to his place is short. The home is too perfect to be his home.

“Is this where you bring all your girls?” You ask.

“Mhm” he nods. His honesty is a relief. 

“Where’s the bedroom?” you ask, trying to get your bearings.

“I don’t do crazy, you don’t show up at my job or here if we do this” Rio sets a boundary misunderstanding how your pride works.

“Understood” you nod. He closes the space between you with a raised brow.

“But do you?” He asks as you crane your neck back to meet his gaze.

“Mhm” you nod.

“Yes or no,” he asks, putting his hands in his pockets. For some reason it makes you want his touch.

“Yes” 

“Good, because you're beautiful and I want to do this” he says.

Feeling unsteady you stop yourself from getting lost in his brown eyes. “I don’t do crazy either. You stay out of my relationship outside of when I come to you”.

He smiles, “I dont have the time sweetheart, I have my own shit.”

“C'mere,” Rio says, stepping back. You indulge his cat and mouse game. “Last chance to run, or stay and give him hell” he smiles clearly the devil on your shoulder. Just the thought of James losing it is fuel enough for you to place a palm on Rio’s chest. His smirk is golden and all hesitation ceases. He lowers in a flash, lips crashing into yours. His mouth claims yours pulling back with hard suction like he’s trying to drag the nasty out of you. He’s artful with it and unlike James it’s so hot your brain overrides instinct when his hand holds your neck possessively to get better leverage. You feel your body relax, your mouths sync and the feverishness settles into something slower and more seductive. His tongue crowds your mouth before he goads yours into a dance. You find yourself moaning as he sucks your bottom lip before dragging his teeth gently down your neck. His other hand supports your back while his thumb rubs circled into your hardening nipples. You feel yourself pooling from his touch. Under his grip.

“What a clown, to play with a woman as bad as you” Rio mutters, turning you on even more.

 “Tell me how you want me to take care of you baby?” He asks, pouring fire on the blaze he’s set. Your eyes open to him, your breathing levels out and you look to him for guidance. His lips find yours again. This time the kiss is reassuring and gentle, his hold loosens.

 “Tell me how you want me to fuck you mama” he whispers against your ear and you sigh. “He’s never asked you that huh?” Rio scoffs a smirk falling on his lips. “Shame some men treat their wives like the Virgin Mary when they just want to be slut out. That’s what you want right? I ain’t ya man you don’t have to pretend to be a good girl with me” he taunts. Disgustingly right once again. You find yourself nodding before it can register. He takes you to the bedroom and dims the lights sensing you’re nervous. His shirt comes off and his toned frame is a refreshing change from James who spends several hours a week in the gym.

“I thought you’d have more tattoos” you reflect as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“You have any?” He asks as you straddle him.

“Not one” you smile feeling a little more comfortable. His hands slide under your shirt ridding you of it. He can’t fathom what the fuck your man’s problem was. Why did he cheat so openly when he clearly had more than he could effectively handle at home. You get lost in another kiss with him that ends with his head between your legs.

He’s so good that he’ll always be the person you’re comparing James to. He holds nothing back fully attentive to your every moan like it’s second nature. Your effects on each other are electric. You are both trying to bring the other to their peak without inhibitions or restrictions. He talks you through your orgasm praising you like you’ve accomplished something monumental. You lay at his side catching your breath needing more. It’s like a switch has been flipped and the dam of your desire has been opened. All the neglect coming to a head. You feel hellish as he tosses the used protection. Reaching over you stroke his manhood. Rio watches in awe not expecting it. His eyes close from the sensation following an already incredible orgasm. He kisses you rolling onto his side, rolling onto yours you hold your leg over him guiding him back into you slowly.

“Fuck” he groans once fully sheathed. It’s a final fuck you to James. 

“Come inside me” you plead and Rio nods kissing you deep before obliging completely turned on by the levels of fucked up. He could say no to pussy but not yours. He knew that now in you raw, there’d never be another way and pulling out wouldn’t be an option. Instinct kicks in and his thrusts pick up.

“Don’t stop” you continue getting you right at your spot. His size is perfect, it’s the perfect rhythm, the perfect feeling. 

“Like that?” he asks.

“Rio” you moan, finding comfort in your voice.

“Shit” he groans, closing his eyes firmly to remain in control. He could feel the tension building in him from the slickness and suction of your walls. 

“Right there” you moan loving every second of it. And you feel him inside you. The warmth of his climax fills you before overflowing. Rio looks to see his work completely spent. Fucking another man’s wife raw was a first for him. Enjoying it as much as he had was a surprise. He doesn’t pull out right away leaning it in as you lean in needy for a kiss. He obliges doing another first when he doesn’t send you home right away.

…

Rio leans against the counter watching as you take the plan b. It’s another first there’s been no scares during the course of your relationship. Once you finish he places the glass in the dishwasher.

“Want me to drop you home?” He asks as you turn your phone back on. You see thirty missed calls starting at one in the morning all from James.

“I gotta go,” you smile.

“Need a ride?” he asks.

“To the club, sure, that’s where my car is” you tell him and he grabs his keys happily to oblige.

“When’s the last time you let him hit?” Rio asks.

“Two maybe three months” you tell Rio honestly and he laughs.

“Don’t let him, call me if you need some” he says handing you his phone. You give him your number. “Text me if things get crazy. I don’t need anything crazy happening after we just had sex” he says and you laugh.

“Will do” you nod, getting out of his car and into yours.

» next part

Authour's Note: Sound off in the comments, I want to hear what you guys think happens next. THANKS FOR READING AND AS ALWAYS LIKE, COMMENT & REBLOG.

[euphorajeon]

in the sheets | jjk

— pairing: boxer!jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff | college!au, boxer!jk

— word count: 1.1k

— warnings: short-haired, chubby-cheeked, sleepy jk, they're crude ahahah, a bit teasing on jk's end because what is jk without teases (non sexual), basically nothing big it's just jk and oc being fluffy in the morning.

— summary: a sleepy jeongguk in the morning is very soft and whiny, a stark contrast to the usual annoying and full-of-tease jeongguk. (either way, you love him all the same.)

— author's note: i just miss boxer!gguk and what better opportunity to bring him back than this sleepy jk live hahaha. hope you enjoy! :)

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s a norm to mornings you spend at Jeongguk’s house after dating him, one involving his white blankets, his pillow that sometimes you both struggle to share, and his inked arm draped heavily around your waist. Most mornings see you both fighting to keep sleep away from your eyes and denying the warmth of the blankets to get ready for whatever you got planned that day, but on the mornings you have the luxury to stay a bit longer in bed, Jeongguk always makes the most of your time by pressing his lips to yours in slow kisses, pinning you further against the sheets. Often you find yourself panting under him after said slow kisses escalate into something more, his sweaty body on top of you not faring any better.

This morning, that norm is broken as you’re standing beside Jeongguk’s bed watching him hog the pillow and blankets to himself as he puts his arm around the bunched up blankets instead of your waist. His recently-cut hair sits like a nest on top of his head, stray strands curling into his eyelashes. It frames his face way differently compared to his long hair, letting you see the roundness of his cheek pressing into his pillow. His half-open eyes stare blearily at you, squinting to fight the sunlight peeking from behind his blinds.

“You haven’t slept, have you.” It’s not even a question anymore. “Your mom told me you were having a karaoke session and just stopped like thirty minutes ago.”

“I couldn’t sleeeep,” Jeongguk moans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Got tired after boxing, then I slept, woke up at two. Couldn’t fall back asleep so I just picked up the mic.” His voice is mufled by the pillow but somehow you understand him through experience and willpower. Drunk Jeongguk is way worse than sleepy Jeongguk. “What are you doing here at seven anyway?”

You climb into his bed to sit next to his lying down form, leaning against the headboard. “Mom kicked me out,” you sigh.

The way Jeongguk sits up quickly sends you into a fit of giggles, his alarmed eyes jumping around the features on your face in panic worsening it. “Kidding, kidding. Annoying Aunt is coming so mom sends me here to avoid her.” A big yawn interrupts your sentence. “Plus, your mom asked me to check on you and your karaoke-ing ass.”

“I told you I couldn’t sleep,” Jeongguk mumbles around a yawn as well, slumping back into the mattress upon knowing your mom isn’t evil. “Judging from your yawn, you couldn’t either?”

“No, I slept.” Another yawn. “At four.”

Jeongguk snorts. “Yeah, that’s hardly sleeping.” He lifts the blanket without even opening his eyes. “C’mere. Sleep with me.”

The silence you responds him with is obvious, which makes him chuckle while dropping the blanket back down. “Just sleep, babe, I don’t have the energy to fuck you right now.” He purses his lips in thought. “Although, if you want to fuck me, that can be arranged..”

“Jeon Jeongguk.” You swat at his shoulder weakly, having little to no energy either today to scold him your usual way. “Don’t tempt me. Having your dick hard while being sleepy is worse than being blue-balled.”

“Hm.. speaking from experience, are we?” Your boyfriend lets out a small grin. “You’re hot but I don’t think I can even get it up if I want to. I’m really beat.”

“Then you should’ve gone to sleep instead of singing your ass off at the crack of dawn,” you say without any real bite, fingers combing through his hair slowly. Jeongguk lets out a sigh, seemingly enjoying your touch on his scalp.

“Yeah, yeah. Now will you let me cuddle you or not?” he whines, taking your hand away from his hair to press his lips softly on your fingers. Sleepy Jeongguk is one soft and mushy Jeongguk indeed. “Cold without you here.”

“Tempting, but pass,” you say, letting him wedge your hand between his lips and pillow. It lets your fingers graze the smallest of his cheek and you poke it playfully with what tiny room you have to move your fingers. “I promised your mom I’ll eat her pancakes with her.”

Your poking results in an exaggerated pout of your boyfriend’s lips, which lets out the most petulant sound you’ve ever heard come out of this man. “So you choose mom over me.”

He’s petulant, but his puckered lips are cute and tempting all the same, so you don’t resist the urge to lean down and give him a kiss right on his pillowy lips. “Pancakes,” you say after, slowly pulling your hand from his grasp. “Later, Jeon. Go to sleep, I’ll come back after eating.”

Jeongguk lets out a sound between a whine and a hum from deep inside his chest, nuzzling his pillow and letting his hair get even messier on top of his head. This time, you have to fight yourself from reaching out to run your hand through his hair again, to slip the stray strands behind his ear. Instead, you slip off his bed to finally go downstairs to Mrs. Jeon and her awaiting pancakes, but you find yourself stay rooted in place watching the steady rise and fall of Jeongguk’s chest as he slowly slips into slumber.

It’s not every day that you have the opportunity to map his face with your eyes like this—because most of the time he’d wake up earlier than you—so you take your time tracing over his features, from the way his bangs are covering his eyebrows, the ends of it touching his eyelashes, to his big nose that sometimes get red around the bridge from his glasses, to his very round and pinchable cheek, made more prominent by his shorter hair. Your eyes land on the pair of his lips last, now no longer pulled into a pout as soft breaths come out of it. The pair of lips with the piercing that started it all, the thing that got you addicted to having your lips against his, the tiny piece of jewelry that stays cold even when his lips are warm after working out.

Jeon Jeongguk is beautiful.

Your eyes are still stuck on the metal ring when the plush flesh around it spreads into a grin. “You’re staring, aren’t you?”

Caught red-handed, and he doesn’t even need to open his eyes.

“Shut up.” But still, his grin is contagious as you find one creeping onto your face as well. You shake your head to yourself, unable to believe just how much you love this guy. “Go to sleep, Jeon.”

“Mhm. Love you, babe,” he mumbles, then adds: “enjoy the pancakes.”

A chuckle bubbles up from your chest, finally getting your hand on the door to step out.

“Love you too. Sleep tight, baby.”

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this little drabble of sleepy jeongguk~ any feedback here would be very appreciated :) thank you for reading!