#Lust Stories

[jugniofrp]

Kiara Advani Gif Pack

In this gif pack, you’ll find #231 gifs of Kiara Advani in Lust Stories as Megha Upadhyay. All GIFs were made by me and are intended for roleplaying purposes only. Please don’t claim them as your own. Reposting these GIFs or using them in your own graphics is strictly forbidden. Please, like or reblog this post if you plan on saving these GIFs, or if you found this helpful in any way, shape, or form. Thank you! TRIGGER WARNING: physical intimacy, kissing,

⟶  GIFS

[binnte-dil]

The women in the anthology film Lust Stories (2018)

[booksandcha]

Lust Stories (2018)

[juniper-bee-plz-sacrifice-me]

You come home from work, weary and drained. Any shred of patience you had has been decimated by a bullshit, mid-shift parking ticket. You're irate, and you think, "now I have to go back home to my soon to be ex and his new partner." Instead as you walk to the door you see a note on your doorstep.

"Hello, Imzadi.

I paid the two of them to leave and get a hotel. Come inside, there's a glass of wine, a warm bath, and your favorite show is on. Go. Relax. Put your phone on the table. No one out there is as important as the Bee reading this letter.

When you're done, I've picked out some clothes for you to wear. Put them on and come back into the living room. I'll be waiting...

Your eternal, cosmic love"

You walk inside to find a remarkably spotless home. Absolutely no clutter, dishes, trash. Not a responsibility in sight. And the part of you that refuses to give into the relaxation is really looking too. The only thing you see is a floor littered with sunflower petals and little LED candles illuminating an otherwise dimly sunlit living space. Following the trail of petals you find yourself in the bathroom with literally everything you could want in a self care night prepared in it's entirety for you in advance. So you get to work doing as you're told. You can be so obedient for me. You get undressed and start soaking in the specifically crafted bath soak made for you and you alone. (I know how sensitive your skin can be, that's why I'll take care of it for you) Once you find yourself settled, halfway through the wine glass and not even 10 minutes into your soak. I come in quietly and put a cooling mask over your eyes, a stark but welcome contrast to the warmth of the bath, refreshing even. You hear me rustle about for a moment, a smile spreading across your face silently moving your legs to accommodate me joining you in the tub. But I don't. Instead you feel something on your shoulder, my hand starts to wash your shoulders and chest. I take my time in thoroughly washing your body before giving you a kiss on the forehead before leaving without having said a word. There was no need. You knew exactly what I would do, and I know exactly what you need.

When you finish your self care you get dressed and come into the living room to.....

[unverbalise]

धब्बा

Written by Writer Vishal Singh and Edited by Editor Mrinali Jadhav बर्लिन की चमकदार चौड़ी गलियां सब तरफ गोरी चमड़ी के लोग बहुत ज्यादा शोर शराबा भी नहीं , ऊंची-ऊंची इमारतें ��ंग बिरंगे बड़े आलीशान बंगले । जसी को इसी बात का आश्चर्य हो रहा था कि इतने बड़े बंगलों में रहने वाला कोई नहीं है किसी में दो जन रहते हैं तो किसी में सिर्फ बूढ़ी औरत साथ में एक नौकर , हमारे पंजाब में तो तीन कमरे के छोटे से घर…

[dark-moonlust]

Mοnsterfucking stories be like:

It’s always a perfect fit. Okay? ✨😏

[monstersholygrail]

Monster bf who is the epitome of perfection when you’re feeling down and have spent all day rotting in bed.

He’ll open up the floor to it but won’t push you to talk unless you show clear signs of wanting to talk about what’s bother you.

He won’t try and make you get up out of bed either, understanding that while sometimes it may help, it can also sometimes make things even worse and maybe today is just a bed rot day. And that’s ok.

He’ll rot with you.

Big Monster bf comes padding up onto your bed, the room is dark and quiet. The silence stifling yet the idea of doing anything to bring noise is just exhausting. So you lay there, perhaps you’re playing on your phone or reading a book you’re not fully paying attention to. Just looking for anything to bring you some comfort.

That’s when he comes like a ray of sunshine in darkness. Who would have thought? This big monstrous creature that many fear to even outrightly approach is your absolute everything. Your beacon.

Your Monster bf who knows just what you need. Who doesn’t being with him the pressure of typical company. With him comes peace as he slides up behind you, wrapping his arms around your body like a cocoon that’ll protect you from the rest of the world, and he brings you into his chest.

And he rots with you.

He just lays with you but somehow you feel even the tiniest bit better. Your heart aches, your body aches, your mind aches… and with his touch and the acceptance that comes with it you feel just a touch better. But it’s enough to make you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

Your Monster bf is worried about you, of course he is. But he’s seen you like this before. He’s seen you beat this before and he knows you’re gonna be able to do it again. He has faith in you and he’s going to be by your side for every minute of it. He realizes that all he has to do. Is be there. It’s enough, it’s what you want more than anything.

So he’ll happily rot with you until you decide it’s time for you both to get up and try facing another day.

[suchananewsblog]

Neena Gupta: ‘I observe people all the time’

Manju Mishra’s wobbly walk makes it evident that her knees are aching. Her steely determination, however, prevents her from buckling under pressure, financial or emotional. Manju’s ups and downs are effortlessly brought to life by actor Neena Gupta in directors Jaspal Singh Sandhu’s and Rajeev Barnwal’s Vadh, a thriller streaming on Netflix. Anupam Kher and Neena Gupta in Shiv Shastri Balboa |…

[videoviolence]

OH GOD, TO WHOM VENGEANCE BELONGS. HOW LONG SHALL THE WICKED TRIUMPH? 🎣

[albertstrustie]

Another Simon/Ghost fanfic piece. Hope you like it. A bit of a long read.

—

Your heels clacked against the cement stairs of the porch, the sound bouncing off into the clear night. You didn’t even wait for the Escalade to stop completely before flinging the door open and storming out. Behind you, Simon didn’t bother turning off the headlights or rolling up the windows—he threw the car into park and dashed after you. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. If you did, who knows what else you’d do.

His footsteps pounded against the ground behind you, matching his labored breathing as you fumbled with the keys at the front door. Your hands trembled—not just with anger but fear. You’d never seen Simon this furious. The sharp scrape of metal finally met the lock, and you twisted it just as his heavy steps reached the porch.

You shoved the door open and bolted inside, slamming it behind you. The solid thud should’ve been a reprieve, but it wasn’t. His broad arm shot through the gap, wedging the door open with infuriating ease. The force jarred you, but you didn’t look back. You were already sprinting up the stairs, your heart racing faster than your feet as his relentless pursuit followed.

The bedroom door slammed shut an instant before his footsteps thundered up the staircase. It burst open just as violently, the wood splintering against the wall. You tried not to flinch. You stayed rooted in front of the dressing table, staring into the mirror as your chest heaved.

There he was, reflected back at you—Ghost. Sweaty, flushed, chest heaving with frustration. The green irises you knew so well were nearly black, like a storm rolling over an open field, swallowing every trace of light. He’d never been in your room before. The sight of him here, invading your most intimate space, felt like a violation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to leave. Not now when he looked like he was about to rip you to shreds.

He rounded the bed in three swift strides, gripping your arm and yanking you around to face him. “What the hell was that?”

You shoved at his face, a desperate, reckless attempt to create space between you. It was bold—perhaps foolish—but anything less would have been futile against his unyielding strength. His grip didn’t waver, though a low, menacing growl rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating through the air like a warning.

For a tense, electric moment, you thought he wouldn’t let go, that his hold on you would tighten until you broke. But then, with a sharp exhale, his grip loosened, and his hands fell to his sides. He took a step back, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he dragged air into his lungs. The distance between you should have felt like a victory, but all you felt was an aching void.

The fight drained from you, leaving behind only exhaustion. Nothing about tonight made sense—not the mission, not Simon, and definitely not the decision you’d made.

That decision being the kiss.

The memory burned hot, searing through you like a brand. Kissing your fake bodyguard in the middle of an undercover operation wasn’t just careless; it was insane. But watching that spoiled socialite touch him—leaning in too close, her ruby, plump lips brushing his ear as she whispered—had been unbearable. And the way Simon smiled back at her, charming and unreadable, made you snap.

Simon? Smiling? Absolutely not.

You didn’t care if it was part of the mission.

You didn’t care that you’d made a scene. All you cared about was erasing that smile and replacing it with something real. And in the moment, the only thing you could think to do was grab his face and kiss him like your life depended on it.

And for a brief, fleeting moment, he kissed you back. But then, it came to an end, just as quickly as it began. So you ran towards the exit, shaken up and utterly mortified.

Now, in the suffocating silence of your bedroom, there was no escape and Simon was a storm barely contained, his body vibrating with restrained anger. But you knew, he wanted that kiss just as much as you did; you could see it right now, the way his chest heaved and his fists clenched at his sides as if to restrain himself from touching you.

His whole body was taut, strung tight like a bow. And the adrenaline coursing through you, made you feel like a live wire, sparking and crackling with need. “Answer me!” he bellowed, his voice thunderous. “Why in the fuck would you—”

Something knocked the sense put of you again and you grabbed him by the collar and kissed him again, pouring every ounce of anger, frustration, and longing into it. There was no hesitation this time. Simon’s hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as his mouth claimed yours, hard and hungry.

His lips were hot, insistent, and demanding, a perfect mirror of the fire burning in your chest. He kissed you like he wanted to devour you, and you let him, your hands tangling in his hair as you backed toward the bed. When your knees hit the edge, you fell, but Simon caught himself, landing on his palms above you.

He hovered for a moment, staring down at you, his pupils blown wide and his breath ragged. You thought he might stop—that the realization of what was happening would bring him back to his senses. But then his mouth was on yours again, urgent and consuming, and every coherent thought fled.

You arched into him, your dress riding up your thighs as his weight pressed you into the mattress. His hands roamed over your body, rough and searching, tracing every curve like he was committing you to memory. When his hips ground against yours, the hard line of his cock pressing into your core, you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“Simon,” you whispered.

He didn’t answer—not with words, anyway. His mouth moved to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You tilted your head back, giving him access, your fingers threading through his hair as a low moan escaped your lips.

It was too much, but not nearly enough.

Your legs wrapped around his hips tighter, locking him in place, and your arms clutched him even tighter, anchoring yourself to him as if he were the only thing keeping you from unraveling. You didn’t care about the way his heavy weight pressed you into the mattress, the way his fingers gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise. You didn’t care about the small gasps escaping your lips every time he ground against you, or the burning heat building between your bodies.

You couldn’t care—not when he felt like this.

One of his hands slid from your hip to your chest, his palm sweeping over the curve of your breast. He cupped it through your dress, his thumb brushing over the peak before squeezing. A deep groan tore from his throat as he pulled back, staring at you with an expression that bordered on disbelief, as if he couldn’t fathom that this moment was real.

Then, with a feral growl, he grabbed the front of your dress and ripped it open. The sound of tearing fabric filled the room, leaving you breathless and exposed, your lace bra bared to him. Maybe another time you would’ve teased that he could’ve simply pulled down the absurdly expensive dress, but now was definitely not the time.

The sharp sound of the fabric tearing made your heart stutter, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. But it wasn’t sadness. It wasn’t regret. It was everything—every emotion you couldn’t name threatening to spill over. Maybe you too couldn’t believe this was happening.

You barely noticed his fingers deftly working at the clasp of your bra, too caught in the way he looked at you, like a starving man about to devour his first ever meal. By the time you realized it, the bra was already unhooked, sliding from your body before being tossed carelessly to the floor.

His mouth found your nipple, sucking hard as his tongue swirled over the sensitive peak. The sharp jolt of pleasure tore through you, and you cried out, your back arching as heat coursed through your veins.

It felt like you were being touched for the first time, as if virginity had been restored and this was your initiation. Every nerve in your body was alive, your skin burning beneath his touch. His tongue scorched, his fingers left electric trails wherever they wandered. You were ablaze, consumed entirely by him.

He shifted to your other breast, dragging his tongue in a slow, teasing stripe along the underside before sucking the other nipple into his mouth. His hands gripped your waist with bruising intensity, anchoring you in place as his hips ground against yours. Words dissolved on your tongue, replaced by gasps and moans that spilled from your lips, raw and unrestrained.

For once, there was no mask, no performance—only you, stripped bare in every sense of the word. It had never been like this before, it’s never been this overwhelming. Your body wasn’t yours anymore; it was his, and in this moment, the world narrowed down to Simon.

One hand slid lower, cupping your pussy, a groan rumbling from his chest. "You're so fucking wet," he muttered against your breast, his voice rough and gravelly.

His fingers pressed against your soaked panties, the damp fabric only amplifying the friction as he rubbed slow circles over your throbbing core. The sensation made you want to cry out and were about to ground yourself against him—but he didn’t give you the chance.

With a sharp pull, he tore away the rest of your ruined fabric of your dress, stripping the first barrier from your skin. The shredded remnants joined the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor.

His eyes dropped to your panties, a pathetic scrap of lace that barely concealed anything. His breathing stumbled as he grabbed them and ripped them clean off with a swift, brutal tug. The motion lifted your hips off the bed before your back fell against the mattress once more, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

You should have felt exposed, vulnerable—but instead, you were nothing but raw, aching need. Seeing his eyes darken as he took in every inch of you, his gaze hungry and possessive, only made you feel more alive. You couldn’t be happier to be rid of those scraps of fabric, nude and aching beneath him, ready for whatever came next.

A shiver ran down your spine, a chill spreading over your overheated skin as his calloused hands roamed over your bare ass and thighs. He was so strong, his hands so sure and confident. You wondered if this was simply who he was—if he’s always been this commanding, this powerful—or if it was just you, the way your body reacted to him, helpless against the pull.

A small part of you tried to rationalize it, telling yourself it was proximity, nothing more. Working with him, being forced into close contact and moments of manufactured intimacy for the sake of the mission—surely that was why you felt this way. Why your pulse raced at his touch.

But deep down, you knew that was a lie.

This wasn’t just circumstance. From the very first day, when he’d drawled, “Simon Riley” in that thick Mancunian accent, your thighs had clenched, and a heat you couldn’t ignore had bloomed inside you. You’d wondered then—against all reason—what he looked like naked, what it would feel like to have those strong, capable hands on your body.

And now you knew.

Your head was a muddle of lust and want and for a brief moment, a flicker of shame tried to surface. Simon had never seen you like this; he hadn’t even seen you in a bikini—but it vanished the second his mouth descended on you. His tongue slid through your folds, burying itself in your heat, and all you could think about was how good he made you feel.

Nothing else mattered. Not the mission, not your pride, not the fact that this was Simon. All that existed was the relentless pleasure, the way his tongue moved against you, the way he made you burn hotter and brighter than you ever thought possible.

You were lost in a haze of ecstasy, your hands gripping his hair and shoulders as if they were the only things tethering you to reality. His mouth worked relentlessly, driving you closer and closer to the edge. When he groaned against your clit, the vibrations shot through your body, making you writhe beneath him.

This wasn’t his first time doing this—you weren’t naive enough to think otherwise—but the thought barely registered amidst the tidal wave of pleasure crashing through you. Any pang of jealousy or anger was drowned out by the sobs of ecstasy spilling from your lips.

His tongue flicked your clit with quick, precise strokes, each one sending a fresh jolt of electricity through your core. Your body bowed, and you gasped as he slid a finger into your tight heat, the sudden fill making your walls flutter around him.

He moved with purpose, his finger curling to find that spot deep inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. His tongue never faltered, his rhythm relentless as he coaxed you higher.

When he added another finger, the stretch was overwhelming, teetering on the edge of too much and not enough all at once. You bucked against him, desperate to take him deeper, to feel more, but he growled—a low warning that sent a thrill through you. His free hand stayed flat against your abdomen, holding you firmly in place.

Your orgasm hit you like a lightning strike. It ripped through you, white-hot and paralysing, leaving your body trembling and your pussy clenching around his fingers. Your cries filled the room as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you utterly undone.

But he didn’t give you time to recover. Before you could even catch your breath, he had you on all fours, his strong hand wrapping around your hair as he positioned himself behind you.

You felt him line up, the thick head of his cock brushing against your dripping, throbbing cunt. You were desperate for him, aching to feel him stretch you, fill you, bury himself so deeply inside you that there would be no space left between you.

His grip on your untamed curls tightened, his breathing heavy and uneven as he held himself steady. You braced yourself for that blinding pain right before the pleasure you knew only him could probably give you.

But then his grip on you loosened, and his fingers came around to brush against your cheek in the softest, most unexpected caress. The tenderness of the gesture sent a jolt through you, stealing your breath and making your heart clench.

“I... don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart,” he said quietly, his voice rough but laced with a vulnerability that cut through the haze of desire. It was as though the shame you tried so hard to bury was something he could see, something he couldn’t ignore.

You tipped your forehead into your forearms, overwhelmed by the quiet sincerity in his words and the unspoken emotions behind them. Your heart swelled, the feeling both exhilarating and terrifying, but the ache inside you demanded more.

“Please!” you choked out, slamming your palm onto the mattress in desperation. “Please, Simon. Fuck me. I need you!” Your shoulders shook with sobs, your voice thick with a pathetic need you could no longer hide.

A beat passed—a moment stretched taut with anticipation—and then he drove into you. One powerful thrust and his cock stretched you, filled you so perfectly, so completely, that the breath was punched from your lungs and you jolted forward, burying your face in the pillows.

Your body welcomed him eagerly, your walls clamped around his thick length as they adjusted to the overwhelming fullness. The scream that tore from your throat was muffled by the fluff of the pillows, but it couldn’t drown out his groan as you pushed back and buried him to the hilt.

The pressure was maddening, the fullness dizzying. Rocking back against him, you met his thrusts, your movements frantic and unrestrained. His fingers dug into your hips with bruising force, holding you steady as he matched your pace.

The room was heavy with the scent of sex, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin filling the air alongside the creak and squeak of the bed frame straining beneath you. His chest brushed against your back as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, his voice dark and laced with hunger. “Me, fucking you like this?”

Words failed you, dissolving into desperate, incoherent whimpers as his pace increased and his palms kneaded your breasts. His cock pistoned in and out of you, the friction stoking the fire inside you until it consumed everything else. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, driving you mad with the sheer intensity of it all.

Like everything between you two, this felt like a challenge—a battle of wills wrapped in pleasure. You knew it was his competitive streak, the need to make you come faster, harder than before. There was no question he would win, but some part of you still wanted to hold out, to last just a little longer than the first shattering orgasm he pulled from you.

But Simon didn’t make it easy.

He fucked you with a savage, unrelenting intensity, his cock hitting every spongy spot inside you. His hips slammed against your ass, his hands gripping you so firmly it felt like his touch had become a part of you, like there was no line where his skin ended and yours began.

You were a mess—sweaty, writhing, utterly undone by his body. Your walls clenched, squeezing him so tight it bordered on painful. But the sting only added to the pleasure, making you feel like you were coming apart at the seams.

You tried to push back against the inevitable, to delay the explosion building inside you, but it was useless. He was everywhere��in you, around you, overwhelming you with his presence until there was no escape. The pressure inside you reached a breaking point, unbearable yet exquisite, until it finally snapped.

The tidal wave of pleasure crashed over you, drowning you in its force, washing away every shred of control. You cried out, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, a plea, a desperate, breathless surrender.

In a second, Simon reduced you to nothing more than trembling limbs and shaky breaths, a heap of bone and flesh barely clinging to coherence. If his arm hadn’t wrapped securely around your middle, you would have collapsed into the sheets, maybe even rolled off the bed entirely.

His hold steadied you, grounding you as he continued to thrust into your overstimulated, quivering cunt. Your nails clawed at the sheets beneath you, twisting the fabric in your grip as the waves of ecstasy refused to ebb.

“There you go, baby. That’s it,” he murmured, his voice husky and thick with satisfaction.

Oh, how you wish you could say something snarky right now! But you couldn’t. Not when your legs shook uncontrollably, your heart raced like it might burst, and your lungs burned for air.

All you could focus on was him—the man who had infuriated and fascinated you in equal measure. The man you’d secretly wanted all along, even when you were trading sharp insults and cold glares. Every mission, every conversation, every moment of tension between you had led to this.

To this blinding flash of euphoria that obliterated your vision, to this moment where your mind went completely blank. For a brief, exquisite second, it felt like you’d died and been reborn, baptized in the overwhelming ecstasy that coursed through your veins.

As your vision returned and the last waves of pleasure ebbed, Simon pulled out, leaving you empty and aching. The absence was startling, a void you felt deep in your core. His hands gripped your hips gently, flipping you onto your back as if you weighed nothing.

Before you could figure out what was happening, his lips were on yours, crashing into you with a wild, ferocious passion, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. His hands interlocked with yours above your head and his cock found its home again, sliding into your slick heat as if he’d been moulded just for you.

And if you were being honest with yourself, he probably was made for you.

Because up until now, sex was nothing but something transactional, a means to an end. It had never felt like this. Like the whole world was spinning out of control, and the only thing keeping you from falling apart was his touch, his lips, his body. Like you would die if he stopped kissing you, if his breath stopped caressing your skin.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he pushed into you again. His thrusts were slower this time, deep and measured, as if he was savouring every second. His hands came down to cup your face, his thumbs stroking your damp cheeks softly, revealing a side of Simon you never imagined you’d witness.

But here he was. Here you two were. Naked, unguarded, lost in the depths of something far more dangerous than lust. And you wanted it. You needed it, damn it.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breaths coming in heavy, ragged pants. The space between you all but vanished, and you stared into his eyes, your heart pounding so loudly it echoed in your ears. His gaze pinned you in place—intense as ever, but now tinged with a tenderness that shattered whatever fragile wall you’d been clinging to.

The dam broke, and the tears fell freely.

Simon leaned in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth in a feather-light kiss that travelled all across your face. The gesture was so gentle, so intentional, it nearly undid you all over again.

His hips faltered, his rhythm stumbling, and then he was gathering you into his arms. He pressed himself tightly against you, his weight grounding you in a way that felt like safety and surrender all at once. His face buried in the crook of your neck, his breaths hot and uneven against your skin.

You clung to him, your bodies entwined so completely that you wondered how you’d ever untangle yourself. Your fingers threaded through his damp tendrils as he began to let go. “Baby…” he grunted, his voice low and strained—a question for permission.

“I’m on the pill,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Do it. Please.”

A guttural groan rumbled through his chest, and his hips snapped into yours, his rhythm quickening with a newfound urgency. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your cries against his slick skin. He smelled of salt and sweat, musk and wind, a scent that reminded you of the ocean crashing against the shore.

Then, all at once, he shattered. His body stiffened, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he spilled himself, marking you as his. Your name fell from his lips in a broken mantra, each syllable reverberating through your very soul. You realized, in that moment, how beautiful your name sounded when it came from him.

His weight collapsed onto you, his chest rising and falling against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His lips brushed the hollow of your throat in a lingering caress, and you ran your fingers through his hair, pressing your lips to his damp forehead. He nuzzled into your neck, the scratch of his beard sending shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips.

A quiet contentment settled over you, the silence heavy with meaning. There was nothing to say, nothing to explain. You simply lay there, wrapped in each other, your bodies tangled like you belonged this way.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, breaking the stillness.

He groaned, shifting the both of you under the sheets, his strength effortless as he moved. When he slipped out of you in the process, you felt a pang of loss, but it was quickly replaced by the warm, comforting weight of his arms wrapping around you. He pulled you into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Don’t be,” he murmured, his voice rough with exhaustion and sincerity. “It was the best fuck-up you’ve ever done.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, muffled against his chest. He chuckled softly in return, the vibrations soothing in their intimacy. His hand traced lazy patterns down your spine, anchoring you to him.

“Together,” he murmured, his voice dipping as sleep began to claim him.

You wanted to ask what he meant, but before you could, he repeated it, this time more assured. “We’re together.”

And in those two words, you understood everything.

“Together,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering shut as his warmth enveloped you.

Safe in his arms, you let sleep pull you under, carrying you into a dreamless, contented oblivion.

[hektor-world]

I feel better when I'm with you

[whereserpentswalk]

Everyone talks about your relationship differently now that your girlfriend is a vampire. She was turned a couple of months ago during a lab accident, it wasn't as violent as most non consenting vampire transformations, but it was still traumatic.

Nobody is openly bigoted about. Your freind group is pretty diverse, you know witches and a few werewolves and other assorted cryptids, but very few vampires other than her. And it feels like they're weird about her now, in this way where most humans are supportive but don't understand, or how most cyrptids see vampires as the monsters they have to prove they aren't like to be accepted.

People are suddenly more likely to take your side in an argument. More likely to be worried for your safety if she's mad at you. More likely to be afraid that she might hurt you. And they won't say why, but you know. And when you hug her suddenly it's more sexual, and when she has sex with you suddenly they're worried you're being manipulated.

You have to give her blood. Because you don't want to think of the terrible things she might have happen to her if she didn't have a steady source. And people think that she's going to use that to manipulate you somehow. But she doesn't. She wouldn't. And you could more easily use it to manipulate her, to threaten to withhold blood, if you wanted. But nobody ever accuses you. And people question how you feel safe when she could so easily physically overpower you now, how easily she could kill you, but you know she wouldn't, because you love eachother, because she's a kind person. And meanwhile if you chose to kill her you could so easily claim self defense, but you never would, and nobody would ever think you were a danger to her because of it.

And of course there's also the weird mourning. The way people say they miss her when they could still contact her. The way people talk about it as if it's a fate worse than death, as if it's something that will prevent her from ever feeling happiness again. How when you say that your girlfriend turned into a vampire they'll talk about how sorry they are for your loss, how they'll be so surprised that you're still with her. Or how when they learn that you're still with her they act like this is some sort of noble sacrifice you're making out of love, as if you wouldn't want to be with her. And of course the darker things, the threat of people who really think vampires are dead. The fact that her parents stood at her empty grave, the fact that her pastor preached that her soul is in heaven. The way that you know she'll never be safe outside of the city again.

Of course. There are things you've lost. Her body has changed, her muscles and fat faded so now that her ribs can be seen through her skin, her skin is blue and vainly, her eyes turned solid red, and her teeth now sharp and pointed like a shark's. Her back has sprouted wings, and her penis has been replaced with a fanged worm. And it hurts her. She doesn't pass for human at all, and it hurts her. And you tell her she's pretty, as much as people act like you're the victim for losing your human girlfriend she's much more hurt by losing her human body. So you pet her, and make her feel small and cute when the world considers her something dangerous and scary. And when she's upset about how her body looks you tell her she's still beautiful, or when that feels like denial you'll tell her that it's ok to be upset. And when she's sad that her body is cold now you'll cuddle her to make her warm. And when she misses sex, or hates herself for craving your blood, you'll let her drink from your breast or from between your legs, and people won't understand why but that's love, at least for you. And things will never be the same, but they can be ok, even if just for a small momment they can be ok. And you'll call her pretty, and she'll feel loved, she'll feel loved.

[xandezsims]

[SINblreen Showcase] Ensnared

Desire leads to obsession. Obsession leads to destruction.

Previous: Detached (Wrath) - Next: Mourning (Sloth)

Look, Ursula was based on a drag queen (and Dare demands glam at all times). That she deals in matters of the heart at a cost made her a natural choice for Lord Lust. Ended up a little anglerfish meets xenomorph, but that's not a dealbreaker, right?

I literally made that necklace for this.

Darin Harte, Lord Lust Corset and Gloves 🎃 @regina-raven Corruption @cursedbeasts-cc Tentacles @zaneida-and-sims4 Gradients @valhallansim (body) and kismet-sims

Other cc by @sewersims @kijiko-sims @tekri @pralinesims and us. Poses by @sciophobis

@simblreenofficial

Process gif:

[monstersholygrail]

Heyy, absolutely loved the orc professor one, do you plan on writing more of those? (^^)

Oh my gosh, babes, you have no idea!

I have a whole damn series in mind with this sexy man. He and bimbo!reader are just so easy and addicting to write. I’ve lost control

- Next installment shall be what happens when they get back to his home

- Then what happens a few days later when Orc Professor shows you you’re now his

- Fourth installment is them getting a little too distracted in class and a lil something happens

-Fifth is spending his office hours together except you’re not supposed to be there and a student just walked in

- Sixth is you inviting him to your home for the first time and he may get a lil jealous about somethin

- Seventh may be him asking you out on a date. Or just fucking you. Or both

- Eighth your first sleepover perhaps

AND I COULD GO ON! Anyway, it’ll be a series of shorts like the length of the first one. Kept the descriptions vague so as to build anticipation. Hopefully it continues to do well and people love it and obsess as much as I am lol

[desirediariesx]

diary entry #22

I love watching my boyfriend fuck my friends

If you read diary entry #19 you know that I recently set up a suprise for my bf involving one of my friends. He got to fuck her and cum in her, but the catch was that he was blindfolded the entire time and never got to actually see who she was. I thought that was really fun honestly haha. We went out to dinner with her the next day and ended up getting pretty drunk with her and a few of our other friends.

She didn't want to go all the way home afterwords (she lives far away), and we offered to let her stay at our place. She gave me a sly, knowing smile when I dropped the invite. I'm sure she knew what I had planned.

When we got back we decided to watch some netflix, and we ended up watching the new live action of the Avatar show. (They butchered it for anyone wondering). We ended up sitting with him in the middle of us and we started gradually getting more and more cuddly with each other.

At one point I said. "You know what I really wanna see, more than this crappy show?". "What?" my bf asked. "I wanna watch you guys makeout". He looked a little suprised cause I knew he never thought I would want him to do stuff with one of my friends, but I could also tell he was pretty excited. "Are you sure?" he asked. "YES!" I replied.

My friend smiled at me and leaned in. She grabbed my hand and held on to it while she kissed him, it was hot watching their tongues touch hehe. I started to get wetter and wetter while they kissed, and eventulally I started touching myself through my panties. I moved my friend's hand from mine, down to my bf's cock, and we both started rubbing it through his shorts.

I unzipped them and pulled out his cock so we could feel it. We were jerking him off together while he made out with my friend. It was so hot to watch. We were like holding hands with his cock in between them.

"I want to see you ride him" I said. She stood up, I kissed her, and pulled down her panties from under her skirt. I had her face him and get on top of him while he was sitting on the couch. I got on my knees behind them and watched closely as he slid into her. It was so hot to see. They kissed while she started bouncing up and down on his dick. I was rubbing my pussy the entire time watching them from right behind her.

I knew I wanted to taste and I stuck out my tongue and started licking at her from behind. I could taste her pussy on his cock as she slid up and down and it drove me wild. I even licked her ass while she fucked him which was a first for me. I loved it tho. It made me feel so submissive somehow.

I kepting telling him to cum in her, and that I wanted to watch it drip out. I got to watch her cum while she was riding him, and moments later he was cumming in her. When his cock slid out of her all the cum dripped out on to him and it was honestly the hottest thing I have ever seen. "Fuck, that was even better than the first time" she said.

The moment she said that I saw the realization dawn on his face. It was her that he was fucking the night before. We spent the rest of the night cuddling and kissing while watching the rest of the butchery that was the Avatar. Such a good experience

[rose-above-dark]

Day 1 of writing ultrakill: hehehe machine powered by blood!! Mankind is dead, gabriel wants to fuck that machine

Day ???? Of writing ultrakill: hell is alive. Hell is alive and we are the entertainment, marked by blood as the fuel. The terminals watch us: for they and we are ultimately what’s left of humanity. They are an archive of everything mankind has ever achieved and one of its last remaining idols. There is nothing left to consume but yourself. The loop will endlessly repeat until either entropy- or yourself finally, mercifully ends it. You and Gabriel are tools now without purpose and now you must find it. Through Gabriel are you able to reach peak performance, the penultimate version of yourself. Through V1 Gabriel is able to achieve a form of deliverance- ecstasy through a newfound freedom. This is a wretched, bloodied love story that’s alive with every player as its intestines and entrails- eating itself whole. By killing each other- you will destroy everything you have left. You must break the loop today or the loop will repeat tomorrow. Gabriel really wants to fuck that machine and V1 wants that angel BADLY