#and i FUCKING ELBOW MY HARD DRIVE AND IT FALLS AND IT BREAKS

[tciddaemina]

indecisive and in agony

okay so i've been having computer issues recently and had to re-setup my entire computer system from the ground up (which happened, it was fine). problem is i lost about a month's worth of writing. i had the backups for it saved on an external hardrive, but i fucking dropped it when i finally went to extract the stuff, and now its broken and makes sad beeping noises when i try to plug it in

googling tells me its properly broken and i need to get it professionally dealt with if i wanna try recover any data. and that's like okay, sure. but i want to work on my fic now, while its the weekend. but that would mean having to rewrite shit that i've already written, and i'll just be pissed off the whole time, bc i know there's a chance i can get that back without having to rewrite it from scratch

so. the question: do i just suck it up and start writing, and hope to extract files later, (maybe) saving some of my backed up data, or do i just work on another project for a while, see if i can get the shit recovered this week, and come back to this later

keep in mind as well. there's a chance of data recovery, but its not really a certain thing.

[ennabear]

I really liked mean!abby, what would it be like shopping with her?

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ EEEE i’m glad u liked mean!abby cause i crave this validation!!!! i’m making this about the kitten because i know she secretly loves it, but if you want something else lmk!!! 100% projecting here because my cats are fucking FREAKS. anyways enough yap i’ll let you read now!!!

“aww, abby, look at this one!” you coo, the small white kitten sleepily stretches it’s arms out at the sound of your voice. abby shakes her head, “we don’t need another one.” she says coldly. the kitten rolls over with it’s stretch, showing off it’s soft white tummy. you reach out to grab abby’s shoulder in excitement, only to find her halfway down the aisle, eyebrows furrowed as she stares at her shopping list.

you give the kitten one last smile before turning to follow her, stopping to gaze at her beefy arms effortlessly lifting a heavy box of cat litter. she catches you staring, mumbling an annoyed “cmon. we have places to be.”

“what, you’re already antsy to get home and see your favorite kitten?” you tease, elbowing her in the side. surprisingly, she chuckles at this. “sure, whatever you say.” you turn the corner, eyeing a jar of catnip with a ribbon tied around it.

“fuck no.” she spits, your hand awkwardly halfway in the air as you reach for it. “oh, stop.” you roll your eyes. of course she has to say no to everything, she’s fucking glued to that damn list. “i’m serious, don’t you remember what happened last time? she jumped on top of the fridge and spilled the whole container, there was glass everywhere.”

“okay?” you laugh. “don’t you think our daughter deserves to get a little zooted from time to time? you do it practically every night, such a hypocrite.” she sighs deeply, debating the pros and cons quietly.

“fine. but if she pisses me off one more time, i’m sending her to rehab.”

“what’s that cat’s name?” you ask the cashier.

“the white one?” he gestures to the glass box behind him. “she’s meowrie catoinette, it’s here last day here before she gets sent to a shelter.” god, you’ve never heard a more perfect name. the stars are all aligning.

you grab abby’s wrist before she can swipe her card, using almost all of your upper body strength to hold it in place. “no. and i’m not gonna say it again.”

“what if they kill her, abby?” you plead. she’s not sympathetic at all, instead shrugging and wrestling against your grip on her wrist. “do they do that at the shelter?”

“there’s really no way of knowing.” the cashier answers. “once they leave here, it’s completely out of our hands.”

the kitten wakes from it’s nap at the perfect time, stretching it’s pouty mouth with a big yawn, then looking up at you and meowing. abby breaks free from your grip, swiping her card and quickly shoving it back into her wallet. “how much is she?” you ask.

“any adoptions within the last week of their residency are free. we wanna make sure these animals go home.”

“great!” you beam, “we’ll take her.”

abby’s mouth falls open at your audacity. no matter how much she says no, how hard she puts her foot down, you always find a way to beat her. she doesn’t say another word to you, not as the young man hands you a small meowing kitten in a cardboard box. not on the drive home. not while you eat dinner, your girls next to you slurping at a plate of fancy feast. not in the shower as you massage her scalp.

and it isn’t until you’re both in bed, half naked and half asleep, that she mumbles a grumpy “so this is our destiny now? to be cat moms?”

[iwaasfairy]

big bro iwa who’s in love with making out with his lil sister’s pussy <3

tw incest, hajime nii is a service dom, oral <33

"S-sit shtill," he's slurring into your skin, pulling you down closer with an almost painful grip on your ass. But how can you? It's physically impossible not to squirm when big brother's got his mouth locked like a vice around your clit and all the sucking and wetness coating his chin is enough to have your thighs shaking.

"Niichan, niichan, nii~chan! I'm gonna pass ouw~ t." You're whining loudly, you know you are, but- everything's hazy and your fingers are threading through his full head of hair and you can't stop yourself from sweating and rocking back against his mouth until the friction on your puffy bud becomes too damn much.

If you could open your eyes for longer than a second, you'd be able to see the intensity in Hajime's eyes, and the absolute adoration as he watches every twitch of your brow, or how you force your own finger between your teeth to shut yourself up. You'd be able to see how his hips twitch and smear precum all over the blankets while he buries himself between your legs with a low grunt. "Pass out then," he eventually breathes, letting even the puffs tingle your clit, "I'm not done."

He loves you, you know? Loves laying you down on his bed like this whenever you come over and watching you squirm to get away. But your voice breaks as you let out a desperate squeak, and your back curls off the bed with shuddering thighs. Hajime's tongue rubs over your clit again, before his fingers scissor you open further and more wetness dribbles out of your pretty pussy.

If you're not driving him crazy up the wall, you'd be doing it to someone else. A thought makes his brows furrow, as he watches you, watches the tear tracks wobble down your heated cheeks and your body twitch every time his tongue leaves the nub with a flick. "You know- uhh, ugh- why I'm doing this?"

"Mhm, a sister's pussy is for big brother," you softly mewl, and also shake, and your hands fiddle with the strands of his hair you can read.

"Not that," Hajime nii grunts, curling his fingers deeper inside you and opening wide as his tongue goes to fuck into the drooling hole with a low groan. You taste so fucking good. He'd really stay down here for hours if he could, and it ticks him off that you start getting too overstimulated and fussy after just two orgasms. "Why am I mad?"

Your whining makes way for a beat of silence, though your pussy clenches and sucks his tongue like you never want to let him go. You might pretend to be any better off than him, but you're just as twisted. A real brother fucker, getting the sheets this drenched. It almost distracts him from your little "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." You try to right yourself onto an elbow and lift yourself from the bed, but he gets up and yanks your waist along with him so you fall back, and his biceps bulge as your legs hook over his shoulder. The sucking of your little clit has your eyelids fluttering so hard you look like you're gone. "You don't know what you're doing. Why even try to touch yourself, stupid shitty sister. This is my pussy. Mine."

"'m sorry~" you whine, and your tone says it all. You're going to cum, again, and soak his face like he wants, needs you to. Long days of work only feel earned when he can sink his fat cock into that hot, little clutch. Why don't you get that. "Ah, ah, niichan. Wan'it, wan- mh-agh, gonna cum Hajime nii~" So cute. So pretty. Your pussy's clenching against his mouth, so hot and soft on his tongue, so needy-

He lets you ride yourself against his mouth until you start wiggling, and then he clamps his lips around that little bud and sucks, hard. Until you're cumming all over him, and he places patient kisses onto your hooded nub until you stop shaking and crying. "How many times do I have to tell you? If your body feels weird, what do you do?"

"Wake up- Haj' niichan. Niichan will fix 't."

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 7

part 1 | part 6 | chapter 1 on ao3

cw: panic attack, ptsd flashback to minor character death, graphic depictions of… food? lol

Dinner is exactly as chaotic as Steve expected it to be. He and Claudia take opposite end seats with a glass of red wine each, and the kids take the middle and start acting like a pack of caffeinated raccoons: talking over each other, scraping forks against plates, stretching their entire upper bodies across the table and dragging their sleeves through the side dishes instead of just asking someone to pass them the butter; Steve’s starting to wonder if any of these kids have ever eaten at a table before, or if they maybe just wandered in from the surrounding woods. Feral asses.

When they do start asking for things, he regrets wishing they would, because Lucas goes “Erica, can you pass me the salt?” and Erica sneers “I don’t know, can I?” and Mike jabs “Whatever; nobody says ‘may’ anymore, you dork” and Claudia gasps “Michael!” and it all escalates from there until Dustin tries to catapult lasagna off the end of his fork and hits Steve in the side of the head with a glob of warm cheese.

Silence falls around the room.

The cheese plops onto his plate.

“Sh-ii-it,” Dustin breathes, face stuck in wide-eyed shock.

Steve gives Claudia an imploring look.

“Why don’t we clear the table for dessert?”

The commotion starts up again in double time, everyone scrambling to clean up and clear the room before Steve starts bitching about them messing up his hair (and his plate, and his clothes, because the cheese splash sent a spray of little tomato sauce droplets splattering all over him, and isn’t that just perfect; he’s gonna have to hand-scrub the stain out of his khakis), so it’s just him and Dustin left when Dustin’s elbow catches and tips over his wine.

The liquid spills onto his plate: dark, and red, oozing into the uneaten scraps of sauce and cheese and pasta to form a viscous, fleshy sludge. Red like his dad’s office, like his father’s mangled thigh, and it’s just food it’s just food it’s not blood it’s not blood but he can’t fucking breathe, can’t hearing anything beyond the wet, gasping sounds his dad made the night he died, and then he realizes that he’s making them, mouth moving fruitlessly around air that won’t pass, trapped in the bottleneck of his choked-off windpipe.

“Steve?” Dustin asks, and his voice sounds far away. “Shit, shit, Steve! Can you hear me? Are you choking? I know the Heimlich, just- just hold on!”

He snaps out of it when Dustin pulls him halfway from his chair, gets his fists under his ribs and all but punches the air from his lungs. It sets off a nasty coughing fit that leaves Steve snotty and ready to hurl, and he braces himself with his forearms on his knees and stares hard at the ground until the hacking finally stops.

There’s a scuff on his sneakers.

He can’t replace them any time soon.

A moment to catch his breath, and Dustin’s shaking him by the shoulders. “Are you okay??”

Steve keeps his head bowed. “Yeah.” He needs to get the fuck out of here. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He rises from his chair, grateful that everyone else already cleared out before they could witness his little moment, that the blare of the TV from the family room covered the sound of his retching coughs; more grateful still that they won’t notice him now, scampering out of here with his tail between his legs. “Hey listen, man, I’m not feeling so well,” he says absently, fishing his keys from the pocket of his jeans. “Can you get your mom to drive everyone home?”

“Shouldn’t you stay?” Dustin frowns in concern. “If you’re sick? You can go lie down in my room or something, it’s—”

“—Nah, man; I mean, thanks, but…” His hand trembles around his keys, the muscles in his calves screaming bolt, bolt, bolt. “I just- I gotta go.”

He makes a break for it, rushing out the side door so no one else will see him leave (and he knows it’s fucking rude to head out without saying goodbye, but he’s also pretty convinced he’s going to combust if he doesn’t go right now.) “Tell your mom I said thanks, okay?”

“Tell her yourself!” Dustin chases after him, clumsy and slow across the darkened yard. “Dude, will you slow down? Talk to me!”

Steve throws himself into his car like there’s a demodog on his heels. “I’ll call you!”

“What the fuck!” Dustin shouts, but Steve’s already gone.

—

part 8

tagging a few people i know have been following along 🩷 @slowandsteddie @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @pennyplainknits @ledleaf @hellion-child @formosusiniquis @missjashin @runninriot @xpaperheartso @steddieas-shegoes

[babygorewhore]

Touch her and Die

On your drive to your best friends Sarah’s house, your car breaks down and you’re attacked. But Rafe comes to your rescue. Her older brother you’ve barely spoken too. And he’s eager to replace your fear into pleasure.

Yeah okay I needed to get this out too omg. “Touch her and die.” Is absolutely him. Idk when Prey part three will come out because I need to flesh out another idea. But yeah this man has me in a boxer hold.

Moodboard

Warnings! Reader gets hit and Attempted assault (not by Rafe) Violence! Female recieving oral! Praise! Dark! Rafe (Kinda but canon he would do this) very short and not proofread okay bye.

You were running as fast as you could down the sun setting dark road. Your car broke down as you were driving to your best friend Sarah Cameron’s house. You called her repeatedly but she didn’t answer and normally you’d have the patience but it was cold and rainy. You had decided to walk to the nearest fishing shack when you heard someone whistling.

A man in a hood was obviously following you and gaining momentum. “Hey, I fucking see you!” He shouted.

That’s when you started running. Thankfully you wore casual shoes but your legs were growing tired as minutes went by and he wasn’t letting up. “Stop fucking running, bitch!”

Your hair was whipping around your face, sticking from the rain as your arms flailed. You dropped your phone a dozen feet ago. “Help!” You started screaming. “Someone help!” But there were no houses nearby. Only a swamp.

You distantly heard a car as a hand grabbed the back of your shirt. “No!” You shrieked as you were thrown on the gravel. The man was middle aged, lust and anger lighting up his dark eyes.

His intent was clear as he ripped off your jacket, exposing your low cut t-shirt. “Perfect tits,” He licked his teeth and you kicked him.

He let go for a second, giving you time to turn on your side and attempt to claw yourself away. “Get off of me!”

“Shut the fuck up!” The blow came across your face. A hard backhanded slap. Tears sprang in your eyes as he covered your mouth with his free hand.

Your heart was slamming in your chest and you had no idea how this would end.

That was until you heard rapid footsteps approaching. A blur of a tall figure went past your blurry vision.

“Get the fuck off her!” A deep voice bellowed and the weight was ripped off your body. You gasped for air, coughing from the anxiety that froze your whole body.

You sat up on your elbows and gasped. Rafe Cameron had tackled the man, straddled him as his own jacket started sticking to his body. His hair falling in front of his eyes. “Motherfucker,” He growled and clenched his fist.

He started punching him, holding him by the shirt and wrestling him easily in place as his beating became relentless. “Don’t. You. Ever. Fucking. Touch. Her! She’s. Mine!”

Rafe was probably starting to black out. The man’s face was completely bloody, his nose crooked and his eyes were shut. The sounds were wet and another crunch came from his fist flying. You didn’t want him to go to prison for murder so you quickly scrambled to your feet.

“Rafe! Stop!!” He didn’t hear you.

“RAFE!” You screamed louder, causing him to jolt and freeze. He spun around, still holding him by the collar and his eyes were wild. Blue irises blown out by his pupils.

“It’s okay, let’s go. He’s probably dead.” You whispered, almost inaudible as a storm started crowding the sky. Rafe cast him a dark look and threw him down. His shirts were dripping with rain and blood.

Rafe walked over to you and his hand settled on either side of your cheeks. You flinched, pain started to settle in from the slap and he shook his head. “My poor girl, I couldn’t get here soon enough.”

You were taken back by the affection in his touch and voice. He barely paid any attention to you when you were over. Only a nod in passing and a friendly hello. You on the other hand were obsessed much to Sarah’s dread. His handsome face softened as he wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted you bridal style. “Come on. Let’s get you to the car.”

His hold was strong and secure as he placed you into the gray SUV back seat where there was more room for you to stretch. Your legs were sore from running, your throat scratchy from screaming. Rafe rummaged around and brought out an extra shirt, a long sleeved white one that you would swim in.

“Here. This is nice and dry,” he said softly.

Without a care, you lifted off your soaked shirt, exposing your breasts in your bra as you shimmied his on. His eyes never left yours.

Rafe was too tall to fit in comfortably with you but he managed to shrink himself into the floor in front of you. “Shouldn’t bruise too bad.” His mouth pressed to a thin line. “I should make sure the fucker is dead.”

“No, please don’t leave me,” you started crying openly, clutching at his shirt. “I don’t want to be alone. You saved me,”

“Shhh, no don’t cry, baby. I’m here. Thank god I was driving by,” He cooed and his long digits cupped your jaw while his other skimmed your shorts around your hips.

“I can’t stay away from you anymore. You need me. Need me to protect you, hold you and…” Rafe leaned up and pressed his lips to yours.

You eagerly returned the kiss, opening your mouth and sucking his bottom lip. You needed the distraction and his entirely dark demeanor.

Rafe expertly unbuttoned your shorts with one hand, his ravaging mouth inhaling every breath, his tongue against yours with a pornographic moan.

Your own fingers locked in his blonde strands and pulled. You needed him closer, impossibly close. He defended you. Willing to kill for you.

“No one touches you, no one lays a hand on my girl. You’ve always been my fucking girl.” Rafe grunts as rage radiates off him as he rips away.

He drags off your panties. Wet from both outside and your own arousal. His big fingers spread you open as he sinks lower and lifts your thighs over his shoulders. “This is all mine. This cunt is mine.”

Rafe's face buried in your pussy and a whimper escapes you as his tongue lays flat and laps at your clit with a moderate speed. You were grasping at anything, your mind going hazy as he rolled your hips against his face, making you grind as he fucked you with his tongue.

He dipped it inside you, pressing through your tight walls as you cried harder. “Please make me cum, please,”

“Good girl, that’s it. Beg for it,” He said with desperate commands. “That’s what I needed to hear.”

Your core tightened, your stomach tensing as a bolt hit you with more intensity than you’d ever made yourself cum. You spilled all over his still moving lips and his chin. He let you ride it out, satisfied with your submissive and grateful attitude.

Rafe pulled back, the lower half of his face gripping with your cum, and he swiped it away with the back of his hand. “Hmmm. I love the taste of a good girl. But let’s go. I need to make sure you’re feeling completely taken care of.”

Tagging @scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @slvt4jamesmarch @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @reidsbtch @chrrymunson

[iambilliejeanok]

Quick Drabble.

If this was me hehehe…

Warnings: 18+, typical smut, nsfw, very unsafe, brattaming, 😈😈😈

“Owww! Nanami!!”, you yelled, your ass burning from the smack that landed on it, a feint echo rippling in the classroom he trapped you in. “How many times am I going to have to tell you to cut that shit out”, he says through gritted teeth, another harsh smacking forcing a yelp out of you.

Through the intense stinging of your ass, you wondered if he was adding a little bit of power to this. No ways…I’d really be hurt if that was the case…but still, I can’t take this, you thought, the tears that were pooling in your eyes now spilling down your cheeks. “Ah!”, you whimpered, Nanami forcefully yanking you up by your braids, his hand slipping between your thighs before you even got the chance to stand on your feet.

Excitement got the best of him. He usually never gave in to his feelings like he was now, but you really knew how to get on his nerves. “Uhhh!”, you moaned, two of his fingers penetrating you and immediately curling inside of you. He went right to it. You got a glimpse of his bicep flexing against his well fitted blue shirt before you shut your eyes tight, the force of Nanami’s fingerings thrusting inside of you, mercilessly stroking your gspot while at it. With such overwhelming control he had over you, you weren’t even prepared for how fast your orgasm came, jerking your hips when he didn’t stop, a trail of your fluids dripping down between your thighs. “Ahhh fuck babe!”, you cried, his grip on your braids snug, so you couldn’t move much, finally squirting in his hand when he whispered in your ear, “So this how desperate my little baby is?”.

With how much pleasure forcefully spread through your body, you didn’t register how fast Nanami put you on the desk infront of you, laying you on your back and spreading your legs, standing between them to create some distance. Attempting to sit up on your elbows, he placed his hand around your neck, carefully pushing you back down to the desk, his grip ensuring that you would t run like you normally did. He pressed his pelvis against you, and you could feel the cool material of his pants against your puss, wondering what exactly he was up to, leaning forward to put more pressure on your throbbing clit, his boner harder than a rock, making you moan in desperate want. “This is what you want? You want me deep inside of you?”, he asked, pressing himself harder against you to emphasize his question. “Yesss”, you whined, trying to nod your head, your voice raspy as you struggled for air, Nanami loosening his grip around your neck for just a brief moment before two fingers penetrated you once again, immediately thrusting into you with the same speed as before, the pressure he created inside of you driving you crazy.

From the volume of your broken moans and screams, Nanami could tell you were about to break once again, a smile almost forming on his lips at the anticipation of your orgasm, slowly tightening his grip around your neck when he felt your walls constricting around his fingers, your whole face feeling tingly as your struggled for air, Nanami forcing you into another orgasm. You involuntarily began squirting hard, his hand finally letting go of your neck, finding its new spot on your thigh as he spread you open, a look of pure satisfaction on his face as watched yours, your hands now clawing at your neck as you struggled to breathe, coughing and kicking your legs as the orgasm used up every breath you struggled to take in.

Nanami now relaxed a bit, loosening his shoulders from the tension built up in them with how irritating your horny ass was. He spread your thighs apart , your body squirming on the table , pushing your thighs back to still you, his face diving right in between your legs. He’s so scary, you thought, tears freely falling down your cheek, screaming at the intensity of his mouth sucking on your clit, his warm tongue casually penetrating you, flicking your clit while he softly sucked of it. You couldn’t stop squirting, and you wanted to cry even harder at the thought of not being able to, the pleasure much too good to handle. “Nami!”, you cried, oblivious to how you said his name wrong, helpless to how he held you down, barely able to kick or crawl away.

At least now you surely knew where trying to annoying him got you

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Jealous

Astarion x Tav smut, 18+, this one's been in my head for a few days, enjoy...

Taglist:

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana @amorgansgal

@auroraesmeraldarose @aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard

@netherese0rb @sorceresssundries @mumms-the-word @crimson-and-lavender

@roguishcat @weaverofnetheril @galedekarioswifey @hyperfixationstation128 @lastlight-inn

'You could be rough boy, but you won't, gimme me some love boy, give it to me 'til the morn'.' - Yeah, I Said It - Rihanna

His breath on her neck was cool, measured and slow. Tav felt her heart pick up when he stroked her pulse point with gentle, slender fingers before replacing them with his soft mouth. ‘Close your eyes,’ he murmured between slow kisses, and she obeyed; the stars gave way to darkness, the insistent press of his tongue under her jaw. Minutes might have passed, or hours, and then she gasped, jolting as he bit down, fangs sinking into her yielding flesh.

‘Astarion,’ she hissed. ‘That hurt.’ He stroked her hair with one hand in apology, the other firm on the back of her neck, teasing the tension from her muscles as he drank. He took long, languid draws of blood, and Tav grew cool and pliant against him.

He broke away to whisper, ‘can you manage a little more, love?’ At her nod, he nuzzled the bite, kissed it. ‘Let me reward you,’ he said, voice barely a breath.

‘Mhm,’ she replied, rolling her hips. ‘Please.’

He smiled against her throat, bringing a hand between them to guide himself, and slid smoothly into her as he bit down again. She whimpered, curling a hand into his white hair as he gathered her to him, letting her rest against his shoulder as he sat up, moaning. ‘You’re so perfect my sweet,’ he said breaking away after a couple more draws and kissing the hollow of her throat. ‘Are you alright?’

‘A little lightheaded,’ she admitted. ‘I feel a bit drunk.’

‘That makes two of us,’ he said, dragging out of her and watching her mouth fall open. He paused, grinning wickedly when she whined at him. ‘What do you say?’

‘If you want me to beg,’ she said, ‘I- I won’t.’

‘Didn’t you already say please?’ he teased, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. ‘I think I win.’

‘I hate you.’ Tav leaned back to glare at him, jerking her hips forward, demanding. Astarion offered a sharp smile, ghosting a thumb over the bite on her neck. ‘Stop it, I know what you’re trying to do.’

‘You wound me, darling,’ he said, eyes widening with false innocence. ‘Besides,’ He pressed rosy lips to hers, blood-warm and soft. His tongue pushed between her teeth and she groaned, tugging on his hair. He hissed, driving his hips forward to sheathe inside her again, humming in satisfaction as she gasped, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Laying her down, he covered her body entirely. He fucked slow, barely giving her time to breathe between kisses, his weight pressed into hers.

‘You’re voracious,’ she managed. The blood loss and slow weight of him turned her thoughts to a muddle of sensation and heat and sound. His movements took the threads of words she might’ve said and unraveled them, leaving only soft cries in their wake. He exhaled into her skin, bruising with slow hard kisses.

‘I’m a jealous man,’ he replied, voice barely a purr. ‘I hope you weren’t planning on going anywhere today, love…’ He snapped his hips, answering her yelp with a dark little laugh.

Jealous? ‘Fuck-’ She attempted to raise herself onto her elbows, the better to glare at him, but he would not concede even a little ground. She was at his mercy, this time. ‘You wretch- ugh- what do you mean jealous?’

Astarion growled, pulling on her earlobe with gentle teeth. ‘That fucking wizard. He won’t have you, do you understand?’ Tav shivered.

‘It was just talk,’ she tried, whimpering at his answering thrust. ‘I- ah-’

‘You’re what, love?’ He stroked her cheek, fingers sliding smoothly into her mouth. ‘You were saying something?’ He tilted his head, eyes glittering. Tav scowled at him and bit down. ‘Ow!’

‘Serves you right,’ she said as he drew back. ‘I don’t think Gale is trying to fuck me, is what I was trying to say.’

‘Feisty little- sweetling, he undresses you with his eyes every time he looks at you.’ His eyes darkened. ‘Say my name.’

‘Astarion-’ she began with a little warning edge.

‘Not like that,’ he snarled, pinning her hands above her head and driving into her roughly.

‘A-ah-!’ She closed her eyes, brow scrunching, glowing with sweat.

‘Look into my eyes,’ he said, voice softer now. ‘Please.’

Tav obeyed, chest heaving with exertion. She was tense beneath him. ‘Astarion.’ His name was a breath on her tongue, sweet to his ears.

‘I never want to hear you say his name again. Not when we’re like this.’ He seemed to sense she was about to come; despite keeping his full weight on her body, he pulled out of her, pressing sharp little kisses to every bit of skin he could reach.

‘You bastard,’ she whined. She tried squirming beneath him, trying to find any bit of friction she could, but he tutted, dragging on her bottom lip with his fangs.

‘I told you,’ he crooned, an evil little smile pulling at his mouth. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’

[callsign-venus]

Just Our Luck | Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Description: Despite how hard the universe tries to ruin it, you and Bradley have the perfect night.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: fluff, nudity (in a PG-13 way), bradley being protective, unwanted touching (from a stranger), swearing

a/n: this is my first fic that I've published (both on this blog and also in, like, years), but I'm ready to get back into fic writing! hope you enjoy x

Lately, work has been hard for you and Bradley both. Though your version of “hard” is mounting pressure to meet ridiculously short deadlines, and his version is more like two near-death experiences, you both acknowledged you deserve a nice night out. Bradley made a reservation at an Italian restaurant on the other side of town, and you splurged on a dress you’d been eying for months. It clings to your frame deliciously, and you spend a moment longer than usual in front of the mirror, admiring yourself. It was even a good hair day, you couldn’t believe your luck.

“You ready?” Bradley walks into your bedroom, momentarily fiddling with a button on his blazer. But when he looks up and catches sight of you, it loses his attention. He’s on you in a few quick strides, one hand finding its rightful place between your ass and lower back, the other near the nape of your neck, his fingers skimming the skin where it meets your shoulder.

“Gorgeous girl,” he says as he breathes in your freshly applied perfume.

“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.” It’s true – you love when he gets dressed up for date nights. You would happily take him in sweaty fatigues or – better yet – nothing at all, but it makes your heart swell knowing he planned a nice outfit with you in mind.

He fingers the low back of your dress. “Can’t wait to come back home to this.”

“I’ll be all yours,” you seal your promise with a kiss. “But only after you get me a nice glass of pinot noir and a heaping serving of fettuccine alfredo.”

“You’re the boss.” He squeezes your ass before letting you go.

You gather your purse and your phone, feeling the warmth of his eyes as they follow you across the room. Then, you two are out the door, his arm around you once more.

He opens the door to the Bronco, and you slide in. 

As Bradley pulls out of the driveway, you feel the tension of last week begin to melt away. When his hand finds your bare thigh, you can’t even remember what was stressing you out to begin with. Driving with Bradley was a cure for everything. His smell (something salty and a little woodsy) and his dad music envelope you, his assured grip on your thigh one of your favorite ways to be touched. And if you get sick of the view outside the windshield, you can always look to your left to get a better one – one that comes with a mustache, aviators, and more-often-than-not, a cocky smile because he catches you looking from the corner of his vision. 

“Fuck.” Bradley slams on the breaks as the car ahead of him comes to a near complete stop. His arm flies up to your chest to cushion you as you jolt forward. “You ok?”

“I’m ok.” You chuckle. You’ve had time to get used to his aggressive driving by now.

His hand falls back to your thigh.

“Fuck me,” he says.

Gleaming taillights welcome you into the bumper to bumper traffic that packs the highway.

“I’m sure it will clear up,” you say, but you don’t believe it yourself.

It didn’t clear up. In the end, you two make it to the restaurant. Unfortunately, you’re almost an hour late.

“Sorry,” the hostess says more to Bradley than to you, “our next available seating won’t be for another two hours.”

“There’s nothing you can do?” He asks because he knows you’ve been looking forward to this reservation since he made it a week ago.

“I’m sorry, but no,” she responds.

You grab his elbow with your hand and steer him out of the restaurant.

“Jesus, I am so sorry,” he says you walk out the door and trade the smell of roasted garlic for the secondhand smoke of someone’s cigarette.

“It’s ok,” you say despite your rumbling stomach. “Neither of us even thought to check traffic.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve. Now our night’s ruined.”

“Don’t say that, silly boy.” You peck a quick kiss on his jawline. “At least now we get to see the sunset.”

You’ve made it back to the Bronco, and from this vantage point, you can see the ocean across the street. It is awash with a reflection of the red and pink clouds above. You two stand for a moment, soaking in the view.

“Hey, what about seafood for dinner?” Bradley points across the street to a squat blue building with large windows and a neon sign reading Uncle Mo’s. 

You scan the parking lot. Not very many cars. You could probably get seated right away. “Sure, sounds good to me.”

You and Bradley stare at each other from across the lopsided table, making a shared mental note: if a restaurant is not busy on a Friday night, do not eat there.

But by the time you had realized your shared mistake, you were already being sat down at a sticky vinyl booth. Despite the great views of the beach (which Bradley let you face), it was clear that Uncle Mo’s had little to offer in terms of comfort and cuisine. A slightly fishy smell permeated the restaurant, you had to ignore a suspicious puddle on the table, and the food in front of the few other patrons didn’t exactly look edible.

When you order a glass of red to make yourself feel better, you expect it to be less than stellar. You expect to be not-so-pleased with it. However, you don’t expect to end up with it splashed all over your lap — and your new dress.

“Fuck.” It seems to be Bradley’s favorite word of the night. He knows how much you were looking forward to this evening, he knows how much time and effort you put into looking flawless, how much you both deserved a nice evening after the last couple weeks. And now you were looking at him, your eyes shining with unwept tears, a wine stain bleeding across your chest and your lap.

Before you can react, the waiter is on you – dabbing your lap with paper napkins. He smushes around the wet mash of napkin, making the stain worse. You want to shove him away. Mistakes happen, but you don't need a late twenty-something’s hands all over your lap. But the whole thing is already an ordeal, and you don’t want to cause a scene.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, “the glass just slipped, I’ll —”

“Stop touching her.”

Thank god Bradley is always willing to make a scene for you.

Your eyes meet his with a silent thank you, even though the waiter is too overcome with the napkins and babbled apologies to hear the quietly rumbled threat.

An uncharacteristic frown darken’s Bradley’s features. He stands up, all muscle and golden skin and perfectly ruffled hair. “I said: stop touching her.”

The waiter takes one look at Bradley Bradshaw and scurries away, hands full of damp napkins.

“Sweet girl,” Bradley coos as he takes your hands in his. “We can’t catch a break tonight, huh?”

You shake your head.

“Wanna get out of here?” His eyes are so deep, searching yours for a way to make it up to you — even though nothing has been his fault.

“Yes,” you whisper.

He pulls you gently to your feet and immediately his arm is around you like a shield. Though the night has been disastrous, you’re so glad you’ve been able to spend it with him. Even now, reeling from a stranger’s unwanted touch and the ruin of your new dress, you feel perfectly safe in his arms.

Once you are settled in the car, Bradley turns to you, his finger rubbing a sweet circle against your wrist. “Want to get ice cream?”

Normally you would never turn him down for ice cream. But nothing tonight has gone to plan, and you don’t want to risk another mishap. Besides, you already know exactly what you want.

“I just want to go home and be with you.”

“Can do, pretty girl.” He pulls your wrist to his mouth and gives it a kiss before pulling out of the parking spot. Luckily, traffic isn’t so bad on the way home.

But the rain comes fast.

Angry clouds roll in from over the ocean, splashing torrents of rain across the streets of your neighborhood. The windshield wipers whine with effort, but they can’t clear the rain fast enough. Bradley slows down to about 10 miles per hour — the slowest you’d ever seen him drive.

“Just our luck,” you groan.

“The price of a beautiful sunset.” Bradley pulls into the driveway. “We can try to wait it out.”

You shake your head. “The stain on my dress is already setting.”

“Ok, give me a second.” Before you can even shout his full name, he wrestles himself out of his blazer, tosses it on your lap, and slips out of the car. He races to your side.

Already, he’s soaked.

You shriek as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you out of your seat. You raise his blazer to cover you both as he makes a mad dash to the front door, but even so you are both drenched by the time you cross the threshold.

He stands on your welcome mat, which absorbs all the water dripping off the both of you. The rain had cooled his skin, draining it of its usual warmth, but you don’t mind. You drop the sopping blazer and plant your palms on his cheeks.

“Bradley Bradshaw,” you say, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

You share a rain-chilled kiss that sends a shiver across your skin. As if he can feel the goosebumps on your arms, he slowly walks you to your bathroom. Inside, the rain is nice. It sends a lively hum through the house, and tap dances across your bathroom skylight.

He sets you down on the tile, then turns the taps of the bathtub. You watch amused as he holds his hand under the water until the temperature is just right, then he turns back to you.

“Sweet girl.” He brushes a strand of wet hair off your cheek.

You pull him in for another kiss.

When you finally pull apart, he lifts your dress up over your head. Then, he unclasps your bra, and hangs it up on a towel hook to dry. Then he kneels on the cool tile and pulls your panties down so you can step out of them.

“Not how I pictured getting naked at the end of tonight,” you laugh.

“There will be other nights.” Bradley smiles as he stands and takes you in – not lustfully, just appreciative of your body, of you. “Believe me, tomorrow will be a fresh day.”

“It better be.”

He kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

You take a deep breath, knowing that he’s right.

“Ah,” he straightens suddenly. “I almost forgot.”

He opens a cabinet under the sink and retrieves a bright pink bottle — it’s the bubble bath you had pestered him to get at the store the last time you went.

“It’s time we put this to good use.” He dumps nearly half the bottle under the still running spout. Almost immediately, the bath swells with pearly-white bubbles.

He scoops you up and lays you down gently in the tub. The water immediately brings warmth back to your bones.

“I’ll be right back.” Bradley scoops your dress off the floor, and pads off to tend to the stain. Though you appreciate him trying to save your dress, you wish he was sharing this bath with you instead.

You drag your hand through the fast-growing mountains of bubbles. After a minute, you turn off the tap, then sink lower in the tub.

How did the night go so wrong, but end up so lovely?

Your answer walks through the door, lit candle in hand. The subtle scent of lavender bleeds into the room.

“And there you go.” He sets the candle on the counter, looking mighty proud of himself. “Need anything else?”

“Join me?” You hold out your hand to him. 

A giant smile cracks across his face. In a second, he rips off his clothes and is gingerly stepping behind you in the tub. Slowly, slowly, he sinks down, his lips finding the curve of your shoulder and peppering small kisses while his hands massage your lower back. You lean back against him, a small sigh escaping your lips.

“Can my dress be saved?” You ask.

He smiles against your soapy skin. “If the detergent and hydrogen peroxide have anything to say about it.”

“Thank god,” you say as the last of your tension dissolves in the bath water around you. “If I couldn’t wear that dress again, I would just die.”

“You would die? How do you think I would go on living knowing you could never wear that again?”

“I did look good in that dress, huh?”

“Good?” Bradley wraps one arm around your stomach. “Darling, you looked beautiful. So beautiful.”

The rain dances on the rooftop, the storm not having lessened in the slightest. You don’t mind because it sent you to this bath with Bradley, brought his thumbed circles to your lower back, his sweetened whispers to your ears. If this evening’s disappointments had all led you to a bath shared with Bradley Bradshaw at the end of the night, you thought it was more than a fair trade.

[slyvester101]

Tucker was starting to drive Wash crazy. And not in the “Stop sleeping naked, Tucker” or “Stop flirting with the adult recruits, Tucker” or even a “Stop being an idiot out in the field so I don’t have to worry my head off wondering if you’re going to come out alive” way.

No, Wash could handle that kind of crazy.

This. This was way worse.

Tucker was currently chatting with Grif and Donut, animatedly complaining about the training he had to do that morning with Wash. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Except Tucker was wearing one of Wash’s sweatshirts, the fact emphasizes everytime he moved his arms, showing off the way the sleeves swallowed up his hands. 

Wash had known that Tucker was a chronic clothes thief. Had seen him in Caboose’s massive blue sweaters, had seen him flaunt about in Church’s old shirts, had seen him wearing Simons’ fancy compression braces over his knees and elbows before putting his armor on, had watched him lounge in Sarge’s never ending supply of tank tops and Donut’s bright pink and super fluffy socks and some of the high quality bonnets he’d steal off Grif. Hell, Wash had seen him in some of Carolina’s sweatpants at one point. 

But seeing Tucker wrapped up in his shirts, seeing him cuddled up in the familiar faded colors of his old sweatshirts. Well, it certainly brings up some strong feelings. Feelings that tend to stray a bit lower than Wash is comfortable with. 

It certainly didn’t help that he tended to wear fuck else whenever he was wearing Wash’s stuff, always picking his shortest, tightest shorts to wear underneath. And then the hem would fall over the length of them and make it look like he really wasn’t wearing anything else underneath. 

Wash always had to do a double take at the sight, freezing up at the sight of Tucker’s long, strong, thick legs being out for all to see without the cover of pants or armor in the way. Of the sight of him looking like he’d just come fresh out of Wash’s room like they were- like they had- 

It made Wash feel a certain way. And Tucker fucking knew it too.

If he sensed Wash watching him, his hips would sway a little bit more or cock it to the side in a way that made his shirt slip up a bit more to show off the curve of his ass. He reached his arms up like he was showing off his apparel for everyone to see, unashamed of what connotations come with wearing Wash’s clothes like that. 

And then he’d swerve his head behind him, looking every bit of a fucking model that Tucker knows he is, and smirk at catching Wash watching him. Again. And keep on having a normal conversation like he wasn’t doing all that. Like he wasn’t actively driving Wash up the wall. 

God, Wash wanted to fuck hi- fucking kill him. He wanted to kill him. Because he was driving Wash crazy and honestly being so inappropriate, they were in a war zone for fuck’s sake, why was he half naked all the time? Showing off all his glowing skin that looked unfairly soft even with all the scars criss-crossing over dark skin leading down to his actual glowing fucking scars across his stomach– fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Something wrong, Wash?”

Wash looks up to see the smug look on Tucker’s face, head tilted oh so innocently as he looks over Wash with this glint in his eyes that sends a jolt down Wash’s spine. 

“I’m fi-” Wash coughs over the break in his voice before trying again. “I’m fine, Tucker.”

Tucker’s smile only grows as catches Wash’s eye. “Really? Because you look a little red.”

Damnit. 

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Tucker hums in response, low and long as he looks over Wash and then the paperwork Wash had completely forgotten about while he stared at Tucker’s ass– while he observed Tucker’s conversation with the red team. 

“You need help with that? Looks like you’re having a hard time. Bow chicka bow wow.”

Wash rolls his eyes before finally looking away from Tucker. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“You sure? I don’t mind helping you out.” Tucker crowds into Wash’s space, hovering over his shoulder and basically whispering in his ear.

Wash coughs again and ducks his head down to hide the blush he feels spreading down his neck. “Yeah, I’m almost finished anyways.”

Tucker wrapped his hand carefully over the back of Wash’s neck, rubbing circles into the side of his jaw with his thumb. Wash’s head goes completely blank at the motion, unconsciously tilting his head back into the pressure. Tucker lets out another hum, whispering over the shell of Wash’s ear. “I could help you finish faster. It’d be more enjoyable if it was the two of us working at it too, don’t you think?”

“Oh my god, get a fucking room!” Wash startles, suddenly remembering the presence of the other two captains. 

Donut smacks Grif on the arm, earning a yelp from the larger man. “Shh! It was getting good!”

“It’s unbearable, Donut.”

Tucker scoffs at that, gently pulling away to fold his arms across his chest. “Oh, like you and Simons are any better.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tucker.”

“Make me, bitch.”

“And I’ll take that as my cue to leave.” Wash gathers up the papers and tablets he has scattered over the table, fully prepared to book it the moment any kind of chaos comes anywhere near his work. He’s already spent too much time on them to start over again.

“Wait, I can-” Tucker whips back around to Wash to slow down his leave, but Wash is already half out the door before he can properly stop him. “Goodbye, Captains.”

Wash is not running away from... whatever the fuck that was. He's making a tactical retreat because he's honestly a little frazzled at how easily he fell into Tucker's hands and how he's definitely half hard under his codpiece with half a mind to turn back around and ask Tucker to do something about it.

Yeah, tactical retreat.

Definitely not embarrassed. Or overwhelmed. Or head over heels for that stubborn, overly horny, sarcastic, gorgeous piece of shit he left back in the other room.

Definitely not.

Not at all.

"So, who's the guy that's got you blushing like that?"

"Don't even, Carolina."

[poppy-metal]

i need vampire artashi where art starts to disobey tashi, doesn’t make you forget when he was supposed to and makes you lie to her about it. it starts as a trial, just too see if you’ll freak, but the weeks and weeks you’ve spent in a haze of lust and warmth and adoration from them as primed you for acceptance. they are what you want. maybe if you hadn’t been made to forget so many times, you wouldn’t be so receptive, you have even tried to run. but you were perfectly happy to be sucked dry and revived like a perfect useful sex kitten. only, you still hadn’t gotten to the sex part. this whole you remembering this was new, and art wasn’t sure if it would last. he craved you though, craved your suckling virgin hole almost as much as he craved your hot pulsing blood. to feel that heart beat, that coursing of nectar over his cock would drive him to rapture. art had learnt restraint, and could now pull back while you were still conscious, still loopy from pleasure. it was in this time that he chose to explain your circumstances to you, when you were still suggestible.

“you like it when i drink from you?”

he lay propped up on his elbow, looking at you sleepy, drained face, tracing the shapes of it with his finger. you giggled.

“you know i do.”

“does it feel good?”

“it’s the best thing i’ve felt in my whole life.”

art smiles, pointed canines only making him more gorgeous.

“it’s so obvious you’re a virgin, my love. you wouldn’t even be able to spell pleasure if i had my way with you.”

art can hear the blood pounding in your clit. your eyes twinkle in candle light.

“so why don’t you?” your words are bold, your voice is tame,“i want it so bad art. you’re torturing me.”

you take his finger with your whole hand and press it to your chest so he can feel the coursing of your blood. he closes his eyes as his dick twitches, hard as nails.

“you know how it goes. i have to make you forget. i want it to be special for you. i want you to remember when i break you open. every girl should remember the man who tore her apart.”

“you didn’t make me forget last time when you were supposed to.”

“and that was very bad of me. if tashi knew-“

“she doesn’t have to know. i can keep a secret. if you’re as good as you say, i wont be able to speak anyway. problem solved.”

he would have to mull it over. very, very tempting.

plummie you need to be locked away for this I need vampire!art to split my virgin pussy open so bad. he's clinging to his humanity through you, essentially. that human part of him who would have loved to make love to a girl and make her first time special - then there's the predator in him too. that's biting and clawing at him to just take what he wants from you, you're too defenseless to ever deny him anyway.

but he wouldn't have to force it with you - you want him. you're appealing to that soft part in him, the old art, the kind art, the human art - when you look up at him and beg him not to erase your memories - when you tell him you want him to fuck you - sliding your hands in his hair and curling around him with your warm blooded body.

hes always been weak. weak as a human and weak as a vampire too, folding to your pleas - he'll wait until tashi is out on the hunt one night - and then he'll take you to their bed - he'll splay you out and you'll be clear headed, clear headed as you watch him kiss down your stomach and lick between your legs - clear headed as he works himself back up and sinks his fangs into your breast at the same time he pushes his cock inside your virgin flesh - clear headed when you feel that pinch of him pushing and stretching you - making room in your body for him - and your blood will warm his cold body and it'll be just like your a man and a woman who are falling in love and are making love.

but you don't want to forget what he is - the pierce of his fangs inside you, reminding you of what he is - the shaking of his body with all that restrained inhuman strength - an immortal body above you and inside you, fucking you -

he lets you remember.

it's a mistake.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 31

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, oral/noncon, coercion, cum, some untagged sexual and dark elements.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Masterlist

You thrash as Lloyd pins your wrists to the bed. You snarl and snap at him as he keeps out of your mouth's snare. The fury swells and adds to the bleary chaos of your being.

"Let me go!" You bark, "you fucking bastard!" You curl your fingers and push against him as hard as you can, "god, you always have to RUIN everything."

"Baby girl, let's calm down–"

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down," you sneer, "you calm down."

He sighs as he presses his lips tight and his blue eyes bore into you. You kick your feet, lurching your body as you try to break free. He stands, still holding you down, and lifts a knee onto the bed. He straddles you beneath him as you writhe helplessly.

"Baby, you don’t gotta be so mad. We were having fun–"

"I wasn't," you snip, "I hate you."

He snorts and his eyes flick away with a tint of amusement, "you don't hate what I do to you."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Let's tone it down," he squeezes your wrists as his gaze returns to you, "take a breath, sweetheart."

You narrow your eyes at him and growl. You inhale through your nose deeply and hold it in your chest. You let it out slow and nod, every inch of you easing back limply. You swallow and flutter your lashes up at him. It's not the first time you've dealt with a jackass.

"Fine," you say, "I'm calm."

"Take a few more."

You roll your eyes and do as he says, blowing out, breathing in, keeping a steady, even flow. He relents as he releases your arms and you don't move. He stays sat atop you as he reaches to rub his shoulder where you bit him.

"You're a fiesty little–"

You punch him in the ribs and shove him back as you pop up. The air is knocked out of him with the sharp jab as you wriggle free of his trap. You crawl across the bed as he groans but don't make it far as he catches you by the ankle.

"Sneaky," he yanks you so your leg falls straight and you fight to drag yourself away from him, "you really are a handful."

He rips you away from the edge of the bed and snakes his hand around your neck. He bends over you as he grips your skill between his large hands, curving your spine unnaturally.

"I kinda like you like this, honey. I don't think I've ever been harder in my life."

"You're disgusting," you spit and pick at his thick fingers, trying to peel them away from your jaw.

"You love it. Admit it."

"Never."

"The way I had you laid out like a buffet, you should be begging me for more."

"I'm begging you to fuck off," you throw and elbow back and glance off his side.

He grunts and brings his knee up to your back to push you to your stomach. He keeps you under his leg as he huffs and lets go of your head. He clucks, as if confounded.

"What do I do with you, then?"

"I don't care," you stretch your arms towards the end of the bed, struggling to get away, "get offffffff!"

He tuts and his weight shifts. A soft clink followed by a smooth friction before he grabs your hands and twists them behind you. You bounce beneath his knee and bristle hotly.

"Get the fuck off me– what are you doing?"

He winds the leather around your wrists tightly as you try to pull your arms apart. He's too strong and the alcohol has you uncoordinated and shaky. He secures the belt around you and exhales.

"You're a bitch," you turn your cheek against the red duvet, "you bitch boy."

He backs off of you and you roll over with a dizzy effort.

"Bitch boy," you taunt as you kick out at him again.

He stands and lingers just beside the bed, shedding his jacket as he watches you. His mouth is slanted between irritation and delight. As he unbuttons his shirt he gets closer, your toes grazy the front of his pants.

"I just needa tire you out, huh?"

"Try it, slut bag."

"I kinda admire the creativity right now," he smirks as he tosses his shirt away. His chest bulges as he flexes, rolling his shoulders as he flicks open his fly, "how long you been holding all this in?"

"I'm gonna–"

"Kill me? Yeah, I've heard that from more than you," he scoffs as he shoves his pants down his hips, "that's your problem," he says as he bends to untangle his feet, "you can just never admit defeat."

"Whatever," you strain and manage to sit up, "fucker."

"It's true," he slowly trails his fingers along his bobbing erection and tickles up to his stomach, "you get this look," he puts a knee on the bed and swipes away your leg before you can kick him. He quickly frames your jaw, squeezing as he comes close, "and you can see it all boiling just under the surface. The day we met, you had it."

"Fuck off," you drawl, "don't fucking touch me–"

"I don't think I've ever known anyone as stubborn as you," he pulls you forward as he sits back in his heels, "and that's saying something."

"Hate you," you scowl as he grabs your hip and shifts down onto his ass.

"Yeah, well I find that good fuel for fucking," he snickers as he leads you into his lap, guiding one legs around him then the other.

He feels below you, rubbing his tip against your cunt and sinking into you. He sighs and urges you down as he grabs your hip, his hand still firmly around your chin. He forces you to his base and you shudder.

He rocks you slowly, purring under his breath as he holds your head steady, leaning closer and closer until his breath grazes your skin. You snarl as he crushes his mouth to yours. His tongue pokes out and you bite down, just missing it as he pulls back.

"Ah, don't get nasty."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, I'm waiting on that."

His gaze falls between your bodies as he continues to move you, slow but deliberate. You groan as your walls clench around him and the fullness echoes through you. He reaches around and unclasps the buckle of the belt, unleashing you from your restraint. You slap his chest, pushing on him as you buck your hips suddenly.

"You talk a lot," you sneer.

He laughs and you shove him again. This time he falls onto his back, hands on your waist as you keep your palms flush to his chest. You moan and roll your hips. He grunts and you do it again, delighting in how it thrums within you. You arch your back and carry the motion, the friction of his pelvis clusters in your sensitive clit, spurring you on.

His thumbs poke you painfully as he groans and pushes his chin out. He drones deeply as you ride him, chasing the mounting flurry stirring in your core. His throat tightens visibly and he reaches blindly for your hands, sliding it off his chest towards his neck. You squeeze without hesitation, shaking the bed beneath him as you speed up.

Maybe it's the tequila, or the pent up anger, or sheer escapism. You don't care. You've never felt more powerful in your life. Not because of him but despite him.

You let the surge take over you. You snarl and throw your head back, keeping your grip on his neck as you ground your cunt against him, a sudden explosion pulses from your cunt and twitches in your walls. He lets out raspy moans as he kneads your thighs, urging you on as he lays prone to your whims.

You crest your orgasm and slow, body shaky and weak as the adrenaline dissipates. Lloyd slaps your ass with both hands, keeping you in motion. You let him, following his rhythm as your hand falls away from his neck.

You lean over him and press your palm to his cheek. You lift yourself on your knees and grit your teeth as he thrusts from below. You pull your hand back and smack him, the stinging strike rippling in the air. He growls and sticks out his tongue, gulping in the humid air between you.

"Do it again," he pants, "come on, peaches, it's all you."

You slap him again, this time sliding your hand up to his hand and tugging harshly. You feel another climax rising as he pounds into you. You moan as you clasp onto the burst of pleasure and let it wash over you.

"Fuck, baby, use me," Lloyd rasps, "fucking drain me."

He slams into you and shakes, thrusts disjointed and desperate. You gurgles as he cums, nails digging into your skin as he succumbs to his release.

Paralysed and panting, he lays prone as you sit up. You pinch his nipple meanly and he cries out.

"I'm not fucking done," you snarl.

[sansxfuckyou]

take one step forward (two steps back)

summary: guarding the Master Emerald gave him purpose when had nothing but corpses surrounding him, no wonder it's so hard to drop the urgency

tags: character study, angst

authors note: a gift for the wonderful @ohposhers because i missed their birthday by A Very Large Margin and wanted to write them a fic regardless, hope everyone enjoys

How long has it been since he started doing this?

...

. . .

.  .  .

Yeah, too long.

Knuckles shrugs just enough to return feeling to his arms. He doesn't stand up though. It's his resting day, where he allows himself to sit instead of pace circles around the Master Emerald.

He should go find food.

Or water.

It's been a while since he last did so.

Maybe he should've given himself breaks more often then once a day.

But what if it happens again?

Eggman, Robotnik, whatever the people call him now, what if he returns? Comes back for a second shot at getting the Master Emerald?

What if he succeeds?

No!

Fuck, no, bad thoughts. It won't happen again, he's better than that now. Nothing will ever touch the Master Emerald again unless it's his own two paws or someone who he dearly trusts.

He stands up and paces circles around the Master Emerald. He just needs to get it out of his head, doubts, fears, worries, he's better now.

The telltale sound of wings flapping alert him and he finds Rouge dropping down. In her arms is Shadow, being carried similarly to a cat with one hand under each of his arms. She places down Shadow and drops down beside him with a small flourish as usual.

"Knuckles, why are you still here?" Shadow asked.

Knuckles scoffed, "I'm doing my job, why aren't you doing yours?"

"We were supposed to meet up at one of the cafe's today for a drink, sweetheart," Rouge said.

Knuckles faltered.

That was today?

He should get a calendar, or a more accurate tell of time. He doesn't even know how old he is in an exact number these days, just the rough estimation from Tails' DNA test. There is no exact date of birth, so he chose January first, an easy one to remember.

"What's wrong with you?" Shadow questioned as he stepped closer.

"It slipped my mind," Knuckles said. He was lying through his teeth and everyone knew it.

Shadow quirked a brow.

So did Rouge.

"I have to guard the Master Emerald-"

Rouge bit back at his statement, "No you don't. Nobody wants to steal it anymore."

"You do, for starters."

"And? Who else?"

Again, Knuckles goes silent.

"That's what we thought," Shadow said rather curtly.

"Sorry for forgetting, it won't happen again."

He knows that's a lie.

He knows his mind is still full of worries about the emerald. That he'll never truly be able to empty it and leave behind the need to protect the emerald. He knows he's a dog in that aspect.

"You better not, we were all looking forward to hanging out with you sweetie," Rouge said with a bit of a pout.

"Don't forget that you have a mission with Sonic tomorrow," Shadow said.

Rouge elbowed him, "Ease up, don't be so snappy."

"I'll do better next time."

-/-/-/-

Knuckles doesn't do better.

He swears he tries too, but everything just sort of, falls out of his brain. There was one little scare, a stray degraded beebot made its way onto the island. It had no real directive or drive to move to obtain the Master Emerald but it sets off every single alarm inside of Knuckles' head.

He just reverts.

All of his knowledge remains but it's shoved aside and replaced by an instinct to hunt and herd and protect. He does laps of the entire island, scouring for anything that could be out of place. He knows logically he doesn't need to, that it was just a leftover stray badnik.

But deep in the recesses of a mind molded to one purpose since he was naught but a child, he needs to do this. And he can't deny his instinct, he never could.

-/-/-/-

Shadow finds him passed out by a creek in the Mushroom Hill's. It just looks like he collapsed. Face down on the mossy grass and body splayed out like he's dead.

"Rouge! I found him!" Shadow called out.

In mere moments Rouge came crashing down from between mushrooms that threatened to bounce her back. She brushes herself down before standing at attention. With a brief glance at Knuckles' her cockiness evaporates. "I think we should be worried."

"Our mission-"

"He's passed out on the ground something happened to him!" Rouge snapped, pressing a gloved paw to Shadow's chest to nudge him back, "He's your partner, start acting like it. Cut him some slack."

Shadow huffed, "Fine."

Rouge crouches down and shakes Knuckles' awake.

He's groggy and slow to gain his senses again. His body is strained. Fuck he didn't actually get any water before passing out, did he? He scrambles to the creeks edge on auto-pilot and near fully submerges his snout.

With a heady gasp he resurfaces.

"Finally awake?" Shadow asked.

Knuckles snaps over to face him.

"What happened, red?" Rouge asked. There's a near pitying look on her face, one of worry.

"Badnik, Master Emerald," Knuckles said. He was still hacking on taking in too much water. "You know how it is."

"One Badnik?"

"They're like bugs, if you see one there's bound to be a hundred."

"Was there a hundred?" Shadow asked before taking a seat on the dirt. Rouge followed suit.

Knuckles shook his head, "I still had lap Angel Island to be sure."

Rouge felt worry build faster in her stomach, "How many times did you lap it?"

Knuckles shrugged. "Enough."

"Until you passed out, is how many times," Shadow corrected, "You need a vacation."

"That Badnik only further proves why I can't leave my post even once," Knuckles said. He didn't know why he was arguing in favor of this awful cycle. He had to. He had duty. He had purpose. This was his existence. He can't abandon, not now, not after it's been proven it has a point again.

For a stagnant moment both Rouge and Shadow are silence, then Rouge speaks.

"We'll stay with you then." She speaks with finality to her tone, "If you can't visit us off island then we'll visit you on island and protect the emerald with you."

"You just want to steal it like you always do," Knuckles spat.

Rouge scoffed, "Please, there are far bigger fish to fry than a thing like The Master Emerald."

"Even if you kick her out, I'm still staying here to guard it with you," Shadow tacked on.

"It's not your job."

"It will be."

"It will never be your duty the way it's my duty."

-/-/-/-

They still come to pester him daily on his laps.

He still tries to ward them off out of an instinct then real conviction towards them. He loves them too much to actually want to get rid of them. He still can't kill the thing in his head that says that anyone with sentience stepping foot on the island wants the worst.

That won't stop them from bothering him non-stop regardless.

"We brought you some grape jello," Rouge stated as she handed the cling-wrapped bowl to Knuckles.

"And a blanket for your hammock hut you have set up out in the woods," Shadow tacked on as he tossed a crocheted blanket at Knuckles. It consisted of muted hues of reds, blacks, pinks, blues- nearly the entire rainbow really. "Everyone wanted to pitch in and cast a few rows of their own color."

Knuckles wrapped himself up in the blanket, "That's sweet."

"Do you think we could help you guard the Emerald yet?" Rouge asked, "Robotnik is back out."

Knuckles paused before nodding, "Yeah, you guys can help if you really want to."

Rouge grinned, "I hope your hut has room for two more hammocks then, cause if it doesn't we're all dogpiling."

[woncon]

[03:26 - 03:27 pm] ♡ heeseung

fem!reader | crack and suggestive | making out | breast grabbing | a detailed centipede | killing the centipede | made with @wonsheep's help <3

‣ enhypen masterlist :: ✉️₍₁₎

heeseung's kisses slowly make you go insane. the way he fondles your mouth with greedy leisure and declares his love in the language of love while holding your hips and crumpling your t-shirt: madness is the most reasonable reaction.

"i'm gonna go crazy, hee" you whisper when his kisses touch your face and then brush your neck. heeseung gives a sweet-sexy giggle at these words, then continues the pleasant work, his fingers finding their way under your shirt to your bare skin. the air is pushed out of your lungs, you helplessly spread your legs, as his fingers fight their way up to your bra and teasefully grab at your hidden breast. "you drive me crazy."

you sigh, throwing your head back, eagerly running your fingers through heeseung's hair to keep him there without losing the warmth that his breath gives you. 

you make the mistake of opening your eyes and it really does make you look like you're going crazy.

"oh my god! heeseung!" you squeal, desperately shoving the boy’s shoulder away, who inexplicably crawls out of your neck and pulls his probing hands from under the t-shirt. he would break free and apologize for doing something you didn't like, but then he sees it too and cries out in disbelieving horror. 

"fucking huge!"

a centipede squirms on the wall opposite the bed. its rust-brown body moves like a snake, as it puts a lot of articulated legs one after the other. its ciliated body shines disgustingly in the light. 

"do something!" you elbow him.

"it'll eat me!" heeseung climbs off you and pulls you into his arms. 

"it'll eat you for sure if we don't catch it. it returns in the evening."

heeseung shivers and shakes his head, as if to banish the horror-movie image. 

"i dare not. i don't want to touch it."

he looks defenseless and tiny. you can't believe that he just grabbed your breast sexily and tickled your neck with his tongue. anyway, you don't want the centipede to do similar things to you later, so you calmly prepare for the fight.

you reach for your slippers next to the bed. you climb down to the ground, pull your slipped shirt back into place, and then walk to the wall. the legs of the insect resemble many strands of hair, they just walk and wave. nature is sometimes very ugly. you shove your palm into the slipper and slam down hard.

when you lift the weapon, you're greeted by a flattened remnant. you sigh. it has happened before that the centipede didn't get killed, it just fell down and continued its journey on the ground, and its potential killer freaked out.

you drop the slipper, you'll deal with it later. now you climb back onto the bed where heeseung greets you with a kiss, a grateful hug, and cuddles you like a baby.

"you're a hero. thank you! i'm so proud of you for putting on the gloves, in this case the slippers. it was epic!" he looks deeply into your eyes. "i love you!"

"i love you too, hee!"

the appearance of the centipede has changed the mood, but you don't mind, you fall together between the pillows and hold on to each other lovingly.

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

I have been thinking about that stupid pumpkin video that you posted for days, and is driving me NUTS. I WANT THAT. I WANT IT IN ME. I WANT SOMEONE TO PLANT A PUMPKIN IN MY BELLY AND KEEP ME IN A LITTLE GREENHOUSE WHILE IT GROWS BIG AND FAT.

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

All of us over a timelapse of fucking squash:

I love our version of insanity 😂🫣

I can't lie, I think about that video all the time, too. That video and the fic that kind of relates to that but with watermelons 😳

It's such a good mental image! 😩 The pumpkin!! And a greenhouse? What about being your own greenhouse? Hot and sweaty, you get nice and plump as nothing more than a good warm body for the pumpkin to grow into. Everything you eat goes right to the plant, making it grow super fast inside you, your skin barely keeping up with it, stretch marks like crazy all over you 😵‍💫😳

holy shit

Imagine you start out sitting up, just on your ass, your legs splayed straight out in front of you and your arms behind you, elbows locked, holding yourself upright. At first, you have a normal, slightly rounded tummy that no one would even notice. You and your dedicated gardener are the only people who know what lurks inside you. A seed. You feel the brisk wind and the warm sun on your face - it's early fall, then.

The days shorten and grow colder as fall sets in, and you grow too. You get rounder. Heavier.

Your ass starts digging into the ground. You feel like you're making your own pit in the ground and you might sink through it if your growth isn't stopped. You don't, though. You just keep stretching.

Bigger.

Bigger.

Bigger.

There's nothing you can do to stop if you even wanted to. Sometimes, your gardener helps you roll onto your side to lay; sometimes, you're on top of your growing belly as it gets even larger beneath you; sometimes, you lay flat, but that's quickly unsustainable, your tummy is just too big and heavy. Heavier. Bigger. Rounder. Wider.

Until, one day, your gardener can't help you roll. You're just too big for anyone to handle. You happen to be stuck on your side when that happens. Your belly sprawled out in front of you like its own entity. It's massive, so large that you can't reach the end of it with your fingertips, no matter how hard you strain your arms.

You still feel the sun. You feel more of the sun like this, bigger with such newly stretched and sensitive skin. You're not cold, even though the temperature outside has dropped more now that it's closer to winter. You have too much fat to be cold. You're well insulated with a heavy, solid pumpkin taking up all the space inside you, making it terribly hard to breathe. You gasp now.

You've done it.

You're a perfect greenhouse to hold the fattest pumpkin. Your body is so heavy that if you could be lifted off the ground, you would win the county fair, the state fair, maybe even the national competition if you didn't break the scale first. Moaning and gasping in stretched, aching pleasure whenever an admirer comes up to pat or stroke the prize-winning pumpkin kept safe and sound in your belly.

😳😳

[thiefoflight68]

Kirishima Drives Like A Maniac 

Kirishima x Reader (F)

Pro-Hero Rock Band / Fem Reader is Groupie/works at agency with Kirishima

Tags: Pussy/Clit Play - Reference to Anal - Playful One Shot - Falling in love

This is from my long fiction Baku/Deku story, just wrote this scene tonight. Thought it looked good enough to turn into a (y/n) - have never written one before - Enjoy!

Kiri swung his guitar over his back. “Hey guys, I’m gonna go to the hotel, you cool if I leave?”

Sero, Shinso and Bakugou looked up nodding, “Go ahead, we’re done here, see you later.”  They sat in the dressing room finishing up the interviews with reporters.  

“Hey have you guys seen (y/n)?  She was going to meet me here but I didn't see her.”

“She said she was heading out.” Sero pointed out the back door leading to the parking lot.  

“Thanks," Pulling out his phone he texts you.  Running out the back door, he gives his guitar to the roadie waiting by the tour bus.  “Tell Midoriya that I’m going home with (y/n). " He calls as he walks quickly to the parking lot. He can see several people heading out after the concert.  Pulling out his phone he texts you again, he hears the distinct sound of your phone, the loud laugh that you had downloaded that reminded you of him.  One person ahead of him stops and looks at their phone.  "Gotcha," he laughs recognizing your plush ass. he comes up behind you, grabbing your waist. “Hey, (y/n) wanna give me a ride?”  Whirling around, your breath hitches, how’d he find you?  You were just gonna make a quick getaway.

“No - No sorry Eijiro," you stammer, "I’m heading home tonight, I forgot I gotta shit load to do tomorrow,” you step away, tucking a stray curl behind your ear.

“You forgot?  Drive fucking twelve hours to see your favorite Pro-Hero give a concert and you forgot you needed to be home?”

“Yeah, something like that, see ya," you smile weakly and begin to walk away.

“Fuck that,” Kiri grabs your elbow, pulling you back into him. “(y/n), what the fuck?  You cooled off after the concert, are you pissed at me about something?  If so, tell me, I’ll say I’m sorry.”

“No you didn't do anything Eijiro, at least nothing I didn’t expect.” you push at him, “take it easy,” the tremor in your voice almost audible.  “I’ll see you later.”

“Seriously,” his brows snapped together, “fuck, when I’m gonna see you again (y/n)?”  Turning you shrug and trot off to find your car.  Running after you, he loops your waist lifting you off the ground, swinging your legs catching them in his other arm, you kick out at him.

“EIJIRO! Let me down,” Pushing on his hard chest, you glare at him.

“No!” He gives you a stern look, glancing around the parking lot he sees your car.  Gripping you tight he starts towards the parking spot.

Trying to free yourself, you finally give up seeing he’s taking you to where you want to go, you’ll free yourself later.  “This is stupid,” you mumble.

“Stupid is leaving before we’re done this weekend.”

“No! Stupid is why the fuck did I come on the tour with you?” You cross your arms huffing.

“Is that true (y/n), you didn’t want to come?”  You turn your head away.  He drops your legs, you yelp as you land on your heels, his arms still around you.

“I didn’t but,” you twist your lips, “I missed you, so I came.”  His hands land heavy on your hips.  You shake your head, fighting back the tears, your heart is breaking, you want him so much. “But that’s it, I’m done, I won’t be back after today.”

“Fuck (y/n), don’t be that way, I like you, don’t leave.”

“You don’t Eijiro you like me as a groupie, but you can get a new girl, I’m old now, the new girls are younger and seem cuter.”

“(y/n) are you saying twenty-three is old?” he laughs, “I don’t want a new girl, I want you, my baby.”  He runs his hands up your sides.  You close your eyes against the flush of excitement that tickles your senses.  

“I know Eijiro, I like being with you,” you clamp your mouth shut, you can't let him know how you really feel, how much you’d fallen for him.

“But what?”

“Nothing,” you whisper, “ I gotta go.”

“Right, like I’m gonna let you leave (y/n), you live fucking twelve hours away and it’s midnight, you won’t make it out of the city without falling asleep.” He tries to look in your eyes, but you keep looking away.  “Girl, making me work here,” he grabs your chin, “don’t make me strap you down to my bed.” Red eyes twinkle, “although that sounds like fun,” he sees the faint smile ghost your lips.  “Aha (y/n)! Caught you,” he grinned.

You bite your lip, tears welling in your eyes.  “I have to stop Eijiro, I’m breaking the groupie rules.” You swipe at the streaks of tears on your cheeks. “Remember I had to promise!”

“Fucking rules, who the fuck cares about them?” Kiri squeezes his fingers into your soft hips.  “Which one? You will not fall in love with a Pro-Hero?”  You blink several times, your mouth gaping.  Kiri gives you a soft smile, running his finger over your cheek, “I’m not dumb (y/n), you’re my girl, I wouldn’t be with anyone else even if you weren’t here,” he kisses you softly, “ever think I might like you too?”

“But, but, we can’t, you never,” you begin to shake, his words sending your mind reeling.

Wiping your tears, he smiles sheepishly, “I’ve liked you since before, at the agency.  I know you came on the tour with us to help, but fuck (y/n), I didn’t know how to tell you this, but I fallen for you.”  You stare at him, small sounds coming from your mouth as you try to process his words. Eyes wide you laugh, slamming your body into him, he stumbles back grabbing you as he steadies himself.  Your lips raining down on his face in kisses. “(y/n) do you love me?”

“I do Eijiro, I love you so much, I die every time I go home, when I come back to watch your concerts, I’ve been so scared you’ll be with someone else.” You hold his face in your hands, “you really want me?”

“Yes, (y/n), I love you.” Kiri kisses you, picking you up he swings you around, squeezing your waist, kissing your neck, he runs his tongue along your pulse, feeling it flutter under your skin.  “You taste good (y/n), so fucking good.”

“Eijiro,” your mouth lands on his, your tongues searching each other.  You lift your legs wrapping them around his waist.  Walking you to your car, he pushes you against the door.  Smiling into those blazing red eyes, you run your hands through his hair.  “Let’s get back to the hotel, as fucking fast as you can drive.” 

“(y/n),” he peers in the car window, “I’m thinking your car looks really comfy.”

“NO! It’s brand new, I’m still making payments,” you panic.

“I’ll put in a little bit, just get you off then we can go, no mess I swear,” you giggle as he sucks on the top of your breasts, his fingers pulling up the sides of your skirt.  

“If you slide that big fucking cock in me, I wanna feel it hit my brain, E,” you tease, kissing him again, his fingers playing with the lace of your underwear.  

“You wet for me yet?”  

The car next to yours flashes, the alarm beeping. “There’s people Eijiro,” a couple chuckles as they walk by to get into their car.  You unhook your legs pulling down your skirt, fighting his fingers.  “I'll tell you what,” you kiss him to get his attention. “If you wait until we get to the hotel,” you palm his hard cock. “You know how you told me you wanted to stick your dick in every hole?”

“Fuck, (y/n), yes,” Kiri blushes a deep red, “Seriously?” He gawks at you. "EVERY Hole?"

“I’m fucking serious Eijiro, every hole, but you better get to driving.” you smirk , one hand gives him your car key. The other hand slides into your underwear as you start fingering your clit, red eyes stare at what you're doing. “Listen, Eijiro," you pat his cheek, "if I cum before we get to the hotel, deal’s off.”  

“Shit,” fumbling with the fob, Kiri unlocks the car, pushing you across the driver side, head first into the passenger seat, if your ass is upside down, he figures you won’t be able to finger fuck yourself.  

“Eijiro!” you laugh trying to sit up.

Jumping into the car, he starts the engine, sliding the seat back, he spins the car around, passing the long line of cars going out the main gate.  

Sitting up, you slide your skirt up, pushing your fingers back inside your panties.  “Mmmm,” you moan softly, as your fingers begin expertly working your clit.  Red eyes peek at you.

“Not too fast, give me a chance! Fuck (y/n), I don’t wanna kill us.”  Slamming on the brakes, you laugh as the seat belt catches you.  Rolling down the window Kiri shows his band credentials to the security guard who waves him out.  Spinning tires, he flies out into the street heading for your hotel.  

“I’m close E, fuck this feels good.”

“No! Stop! Shit!” Turning into the side street, he manages to get through three lights before they turn yellow.  Craning his neck he can see the huge hotel ahead, he points, “almost there girl,” he looks down briefly,  “you better work fast, if you wanna win.” Laughing he spins the wheel, taking the next street to avoid a red.

“Okay, I can go faster,” you grimace as you slam into the side of the car door, your fingers now moving faster.  “Oh fuck that feels good, oh E!”  Your fingers start to pull out the sweet waves of pleasure, a fluttering pulse giving you a brief tingle. “Ooo E, fuck, I’m so close!”

“Fuck I was kidding!” he grabs at your hand.

“No interfering,” you pant pushing away his hand, Kiri tries to keep his eyes on the road, but the sounds of your fingers in your wet pussy have him transfixed, another brief glance and he can see the street lights lighting up your glistening thighs. "Fuck!" He hits the gas, he knows your close. Seeing a back alley, Kiri veers the car right, bursting out right behind the hotel. 

“We’re here!” he yells pointing to the hotel, “fucking official, we’re here!” Flying into the exit he drives up the wrong way to the front of the hotel.  Stopping he leans back, trying to catch his breath, his entire body vibrating.  The valet knocks on the window, raising his hands.  “Sorry!” Kiri yells at him, "sorry!" Adjusting your skirt back down, you breathe deep, hands tremble from the pulsing need exploding in your body   "I fucking won!" Kiri laughs looking over, you smile as you suck on your finger. 

"You sure did, Eijiro."

"Fuck (y/n), now I gotta get out of the car and walk through the hotel with a full chub,” he stares at his hard cock tenting his pants.  

“At least you’re not dripping down your leg,” you wink, opening your door.  “Let’s go E, you just might be the luckiest man alive tonight.”

"You fucking bet I am (y/n), with you I always am."

[bonkobarnes]

ok so i think you've established their strap position preferences but is there a scenario where becca gets bent over?

my brain sounds like a jar of bees

- the first time it happens was all Becca’s doing and she didn’t realize until after that she had miscalculated

- her shirt was cropped and her jeans were low on her hips and all cam could focus on were the dimples in becca’s back

- becca would say it was an accident. That cam’s kitchen was tiny and really what was she to do

- cam is leaned back against the island when becca’s ass brushes against the front of her work pants, reaching for something in the cupboard

- Becca does it again, firmer this time

- Cam’s breaking point comes when Becca leans, just slightly, on the counter directly in front of cam, under the pretense of making the both of them a drink

- all cam can see are those stupid dimples in her back and the curve of her ass and space where denim gaps away from skin

- cam all but rushes forward, closes the already small gap, and presses into Becca

- Cam braces both arms on the counter engulfing Becca. Becca groans at the contact falls forward onto her elbows, and grinds against cam purposefully

- cam whispers in her ear, hot and wet and asks Becca what she’s doing

-“want you to fuck me like this. Been thinking about it all day.”

- Becca rolls her hips again and this time cam matches. Starts up a slow grind that is doing nothing but driving them insane

- cam tells Becca to stay there and drink her drink and disappears into the bedroom. Cam comes back looking the exact same except this time when she presses into Becca, Becca can feel the hardness of her strap thru Cam’s work pants

- as she wished Becca gets taken right there, bent over and fucked at a blistering pace with her forehead pressed against the cool countertop

- all that buildup and she cums embarrassingly fast

- Becca tries again, in the bedroom and cam presses between her shoulder blades and fucks her into the mattress. It ends the same, her cumming before cam even really gets started

- Becca realizes quickly she can’t last when cam takes her like that. Something about how unintentionally rough cam gets and the angle pressing inside her and she’s close to tears five minutes in

- so they never really talk about it but sometimes if cam has been edging her for a while and she’s so close but can’t quite get there cam will whisper in her ear I know you wanna cum, baby, do you need me to bend you over