#asking fir a bite

[eights-world]

FRIED POTATO BALLS TOPPED WITH GARLIC SAUCE

HOLY SHIT????? THEY LOOK SOOO GOOD ONGGG WHAATT!!!!!!!!!

[woahjo]

the first time the high lord katsuki touches you, he drags his fingers lightly over your clothes. his palms slide against your shoulders, your waist, your hips, and your thighs. he's careful to not overstep, moving slowly over your body as if any sudden movement would shatter the illusion.

he'd asked you to come look at something on his desk. a book or some other thing, and you'd obliged because you appreciate the things he shares with you. but you had stood so close to him, so close that katsuki could smell you, that he could lean forward a little and put his face in your hair.

"tell me if you don't like it," he'd mumbled, his voice tense and gravelly. there was a bite to it, a nervous one that he'd struggled to conceal.

then, he'd moved his hands to touch your hips. lightly at first, then with a bit more urgency. you had not turned around to face him, instead content to let him touch you this way. almost like worship.

his hands now roam gingerly over your clothing, catching momentarily on the heavy fabric before letting it fall again. he spends a lot of time simply feeling your shape, greedy hands that tremble with his desire to take you. katsuki touches you because you let him, because you want him to.

katsuki doesn't fuck you today, but he does other things. he lets his hand slip to your inner thigh and you part your legs with a small step to the side. neither of you speaks a word and the room is so silent save for your breathing that you could hear a pin drop. kirishima is outside of the door, but he won't enter unless he's called. the silence and secret of this wraps you both in a film you can't seem to break free from.

slowly, he pulls your dress up to run his fingers along the inside of your thigh, raising goosebumps along your skin and causing you to shutter and lean back against him. he sighs a little, leaning forward so that his breath hits the shell of your ear. then, he places a small kiss on your exposed part of your shoulder where it meets your neck.

then, his fingers dip to cup your cunt, pressing lightly until he finds the spot that makes you gasp and lean forward, bracing yourself with both hands on the table. his thick finger rubs circles into your slit, pulling aside your underwear to collect your wetness on his fingers before pressing it again to that sensitive bud.

you sigh, letting your head fall forward and katsuki steps closer to you, close enough that you can feel his hardness against your ass. he groans when he realizes the extent of your wetness, no doubt thinking about how long you've been like this, how long he's let you go unsatisfied and neglected.

katsuki doesn't make an effort to enter you, nor does he move his fingers from your clit. he just rubs circles into it, finding a pattern that makes you tremble and sticking with it. you sigh softly as he touches you, your skirt hiked up over his wrist and legs spread ever so slightly to give him room to pleasure you. choked moans and whines threaten to escape your lips and you can feel katsuki's face and breath beside your head, his eyes fixed on you as he watches your expression twist into one of mounting pleasure.

his hand comes up to brace your hip when you get close, pulling your body against him so that his hard cock is flush against you. it's a possessive movement and the roughest he's ever been with you, harshly jostling your body against his as if to have you close when you reach your peak.

you're leaning forward, fingers digging into the fine wood of his desk, as he repeatedly rubs at your clit, occasionally dipping to your entrance to collect your slick. you'd love for him to put them in you, to curl his thick fingers inside of your body until you cum, but this seems to be all he allows himself to do, as if he's holding himself back from ultimate pleasure.

what he does do for you is certainly enough, though. soon, he's crowding your body, his figure hunched over yours as you twitch and writhe against him. he keeps his fingers firmly rubbing at your clit, soft circles that grow more intentional with each twitch of your hips against him. then, you tense up and sigh deeply, then tension in your body fleeing as you cum hard against his hand and rut your hips into his fingers.

katsuki watches and groans softly as you finish, still moving his fingers and breathing heavily in your ear until you collapse forward against the desk with overstimulation. your legs tremble and squeeze his hand between your thighs and your breath comes heavily and quickly. he breathes like this too, as if he's just exerted some great physical force, and you can still feel his cock twitching against you in his pants as the fingers on his free hand dig harshly into your hips.

katsuki doesn't move his hand until you've stopped your twitching, content to leg you squeeze it between two plush thighs. then, he removes it, briefly holding your skirt up and peering around you to see the supple flesh of your leg, before letting it drop. you exhale a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and katsuki lingers behind you for a moment before letting his head fall forward to rest against your shoulder.

neither of you says anything about the reality of what you've just done. it's a great crime. one that is not easily undone should anyone find out about it. the two of you sit in silence as it settles over you.

[lazyjellyfish300]

12 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 ~ 𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝑻𝒘𝒐

Synopsis: It's the classic Hallmark tale: what happens when you, a business woman from the city, arrives at the family owned O'Hara Christmas Tree farm your greedy boss wants to demolish, and finds much more than you bargained for that fateful night you get snowed in?

CW: x FEM!READER, SMUT(unprotected p in v ,oral (f receiving), creampie, breast play, touch of mirror kink) enemies to lovers ish, DUBCON?(You're both a bit drunk), alcohol, touch of angst, mention of pregnancy

Words: 4.4k

A/N: a little late, mb but I hope it's worth it!😩 I'm on vacation rn but I'm dedicated to making this happen even if I'm a lil behind lolol

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

12 Days of Smutmas Masterlist 🎄🎁

You certainly weren't in Kansas anymore. Or so the saying went. This time you found yourself somewhere in the Catskills outside of Nueva York. Your high heels crunched on the gravel as you stepped out of your Uber, taking in the grand Christmas tree farm in front of you. 

"O'Hara Ranch" was welded in iron lettering on a black sign above the entrance. You whistled as you took in the expansive acres of balsam fir trees, dusted in a thin layer of snow straight out of a painting. 

It was no wonder your boss was so dead set on this place. You became keenly aware of the biting chill of the countryside as you huddled your arms closer around you, your pink blazer doing little to keep you warm as you started to quake in your Jimmy Choos with your laptop case and singular carry-on in tow.

---- 

Miguel grunted, scratching his lower back as his large, sturdy boots squeaked a little on his kitchen floor, eyes almost as dark as the warm beverage in his mug, looking out in silent disapproval at the black Escalade that pulled up, dropping off what he was certain was another employee from that pesky developer.

Some poor soul who had to be the shot messenger for a CEO who never strayed out of the wealthy privileged fairytale land they lived in, thinking that multiple commas would be enough to get him to sign his life away. 

When would they ever learn? He thought. He puts down his mug on the counter then strides over to the door, placing one of his hats on his head before he goes outside to greet this new imposter. 

---

You shuddered as you reached inside your pocket, taking out the flimsy scrap of paper that contained the phone number for the ranch and dialing it again, hoping to reach this Miguel, or whoever it was you were supposed to meet. 

"C'mon..." 

You shouldn't be surprised if he didn't pick up again. It was no secret that you were the bad guy in this situation straight out of a Hallmark film. 

Corporate business lady visiting a Christmas Tree farm that's been in the same family for decades, beloved by all the locals, who forced them to sign over their American dream to a greedy land developer and demolish it to the ground for a lavish mountain resort, and 2 weeks before Christmas no less. 

Just as the call goes to voicemail, a four wheeler's engine interrupts your train of thought. Just like out of a movie, you take notice of the very tall, dark haired, very handsome rider who sat astride it.

His long sleeved grey shirt did nothing but accentuate his rippling arm muscles, layered underneath a Carhartt vest, complete with a baseball cap and salt and pepper five o clock shadow on his sharp, steely jaw. His lips were plump and relaxed into a subtle frown, complete with thick brows and dark wavy hair that complimented the pair of rich brown eyes he possessed that compared to the slice of Earth he owned. 

"Miss...?" He asks your name with an equally deep beautiful voice to match in slightly bored formality. You could tell it was painful for him to be polite to you like this, if you were the corporate imposter like he thought you were.  

"Yes, hi! You're...M-Miguel, right?" 

His expression remains unmoved. "That would be me." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Gorgeous property by the way! Really, it's much much better in person than the pictures-" 

"Right." He replies stiffly. "There's really no need to be so gracious.  I figure you're here for one thing and one thing only." 

"Uh-" you reply, a little thrown off by what he means. 

"And the answer is no. I understand you've got a job to do, but I've told your boss over and over again: no. Five years ago, it was a no. Last month, also no. Come back in a week, my answer will still be no. Thank you." 

He revs the engine, getting ready to speed away. 

"Wait! I really do need you to sign this! From the mayor?" You waved a pink colored document which caught his attention for once. 

Miguel turned off the engine, hopping off the four wheeler and strode towards you. He shoots you a superstitious glance before his eyes flicker to the paper, slowly becoming more enraged as he scanned along the fine print:

 Notice of Eminent Domain. 

That bastard. There was a reason Miguel didn't vote for this prick. The new mayor was part of this recent wave of money hungry idealists in power who wanted to turn the humble town he grew up in into another rich touristy playground. 

Usually, these folks couldn't wait to sign the dotted line, get their check, and be on their merry way, but this Miguel was taking his time reading every last stipulation in the document. You notice the snow is coming down harder and harder, your teeth chattering wildly as you did your very best to stay calm as the relentless cold tested your endurance. Finally, Miguel hands you back the paper with a sigh, 

"Still not signin'. Sorry for wasting your time." 

"Miguel." You felt your patience snapped in half by now. Between traveling all morning, your boss's incessant emails, and the cold ass weather, you had just about had it up to here. 

"I'm sorry. But any complaints you have will just have to be taken up with the big man later. I came with a job to do and I have every intention of doing it." 

"That so?" Miguel straightens up, flexing his height over you. 

You were emboldened by this point through all the bullshit you had endured. "It is very much so. I'm not leaving this damn farm without a signature, and that's final." 

"Hm." Miguel nodded his chin, as though he was calling your bluff before he swiftly turned around, walking back towards the awaiting four wheeler. 

"Oh no you don't!" You huffed as your icecubes for feet magically thawed off of pure adrenaline and spite as you began to sprint. 

"What the-" Miguel looks at you quizzically then his brow furrows when he sees you darting towards his four wheeler. "The hell you think you're doing??" 

You ignore him and climb on, Miguel snickering a little bit at the prim and proper lady from the city now straddling his seat, slightly disheveled with a wild look in your eye from dealing with corporate messes all day. 

"Get down." Miguel says sternly, coming up to stand next to you. 

"No." You answer simply, smoothing your blazer. 

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Miguel's tone becomes more warning now. "Get off my property, woman." 

"Sign my document, then." You fold your arms. 

"You're a brat, y'know that?" Miguel folds his arms too, incredulous at your undying persistence, more like annoyance. "So childish." 

"Name calling? And you say I'm the childish one." You turn your nose up at him.

"I'm not the crazy lady jumping on a stranger's four wheeler that she doesn't even know how to drive." Miguel grumbles. 

"You'd be surprised." You glare. 

Both of you just sit there in silence, the snowfall has  escalated to just short of a blizzard by now. You're trying but failing to conceal just how damn cold you are as you shiver and shudder. Miguel's mind brews with some ideas before he speaks. 

"Alright." Miguel sighs "I'll sign your damn document. But I need to show you the place first. Just so you can get an idea of just how sick and twisted you people truly are: tearing down a place like this that's been in the family for generations." 

"What?" You blink, not expecting this change of events. "But I mean- but..." You glance at your wrist watch. "It's almost 4 pm. I was supposed to be on the road a half hour ago." 

"Not in this storm you're not." Miguel tsks his teeth. "They always close the canyon when it snows. You won't be able to go anywhere until the morning. But hey, if you wanna call an Uber and wait four hours for him just to be turned around at the bridge, then be my guest." 

"You-" You shuddered and groaned, exasperated at the fact that Miguel appeared to have the upper hand this time. You were stuck playing by his rules. 

"Fine." You resign, throwing your hands up. 

Miguel smirks at this surrender in you, getting on the four wheeler behind you. He's aware the space between your bodies is now very thin, his chest just barely grazing your back as he leans forward, placing his hands on both handlebars. 

You try not to make it obvious that you can't breathe and realize you might be in way over your head being stuck overnight with a man four times handsome as he was stubborn as Miguel drives you rapidly towards his ranch. 

---- 

"Home sweet home." Miguel hums halfheartedly as you enter the elaborate living area of Miguel's mountain home. Several brown and white cowhide rugs were spread over the polished wooden floors, a large pair of antlers hung over a luxury stone hearth, with an inviting leather couch in front of it. 

A short time later, you're absentmindedly staring at some photographs on the wall when Miguel's voice startles you. 

"Had enough snooping?" 

"I wasn't snooping!." You whirl around, pretending to avert your gaze. "I was admiring the antlers." 

Miguel scoffs. "You're a terrible liar, you know." 

"Who is that?" You ask, voice a little more gentle. You kind of wish you never asked when Miguel's eyes soften with the slightest tinge of melancholy. 

"My daughter." He answers then clears his throat. "She passed some years ago." 

"Oh..." You look at him then back at the photograph of the cheery bright eyed girl in it. "I'm so sorry." 

"Thanks." Miguel answers shortly, crossing over to the bar on the far side of the room. 

"I can see why you don't want to leave." You admit, crossing your arms and running your palms up your arms as the glow from the fireplace worked quickly to rid you of any lingering chill from outside. "For what it's worth..." 

Miguel scoffed again. "You don't need to play the sympathy card to win points with me." 

"I- No Miguel! Of course not!" You look at him in horror. "Really, you think I take pride in doing these things to folks like you? You think I'm some souless corporate ghoul that drinks blood of the innocent?" 

"Yes." Miguel stays deadpanned, with the faintest glimmer of amusement. 

"Oh shut up." You blow air through your lips and stride over to where he's standing by his bar. "What do you have to drink around here anyways?" 

Miguel smiles, the bourbon in his glass had made him feel a little more comfortable by now. He glanced outside, eyes slightly widened in surprise at the complete blizzard that was unfolding outside the frosty window. 

"You might wanna go for something a bit stronger than that." Miguel nods in the direction of the window. 

Your fingers move away from the canned margaritas in the mini fridge. You realize bourbon is also the answer tonight when you lay eyes on the absolute winter wonderland outside. 

You had never seen so much snow in your life, as a seemingly infinite stream of snowflakes littered the staggering blankets of pure white that would be nearly waist deep should you venture back out. 

Even though the night was completely black, the shimmery powder stood out, illuminating the December night among the silent and formidable evergreens. 

"Damn..." You whispered. 

"Damn is right." Miguel polishes off his bourbon. "Another round for me too, when you get a chance." He slides his glass towards you across the polished wood. 

"Please?" You quirk a brow at him. 

Miguel chuckles, the sound deep and a little breathy. The feeling it left you...quite unexpected. "Yes, please."

You hum and fill his glass a quarter of the way after you pour your own into one of the small shot glasses you spied below the countertop, throwing the liquid fire back in one ragged gulp. 

Miguel laughs at the face you make and little cough you let out as your eyes water. "Miss Corporate can't handle a little country bourbon?" 

"Miss Corporate can handle herself just fine." You give him a small harrumph. "Miss Corporate wishes to remind Mr. Country Man that she is still here strictly on business and she has no problem decking him in the face should he continue to mouth off." 

"Hmmm business, eh?" 

"Mhmm." 

"Oh, I think we're way past that." Miguel smirks as he leans forward a little closer towards you. "You're having a drink with your evictee. Can't imagine that's not frowned upon." 

"I've had drinks with clients before." You huff, hastily grabbing the bottle and pouring another shot as if to prove a point. This one went down with less resistance, albeit still just as fiery as the one before. 

"Cálmate."(Calm down) Miguel goes to grab the bottle from you just as you're about to pour a third when the sudden move causes the bourbon to splash a little, ending up on your thousand dollar blazer. 

"You... idiot." You roll your eyes as Miguel snorts. 

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry." Miguel steps towards you, trying to help. 

"Nope, you've done quite enough." You huff, trying to disguise the warmth the alcohol was quickly dispelling all over your body. 

"I insist." 

"Miguel, fuck off!" 

"Come here, dammit..." 

And you're not sure exactly what happened, but in that moment his body was pressed up against yours and your faces were mere inches from one another.

This was dangerous now. You knew it, and he knew it, but for Miguel, he was at risk of losing everything anyway. Who could blame him if he wasn't going to make the most of this...convenient situation that presented itself to him. It didn't help that you were quite easy on the eyes as well. 

He pauses as if holding his breath, those deep, deep eyes completely swallowing you up where you stood, the faint sting of the bourbon you can detect on his lips that he wet ever so slightly. 

"M-Miguel, I really shouldn't, I-" 

And you can't remember exactly what drove your lips to meet in that heady first kiss, or how his touch moved from your face, to your neck, whether you were the one who guided him, or his hands wandered on their own accord to the sensitive swells of your breasts, but here you were, up against this tall, rugged farmer you thought you hated only 20 minutes ago, breathing and panting into his mouth and kissing him like your life depended on it, completely contradicting everything you ever said. 

He began to rock his hips against you, hands now on either side of your head, caging you against the wall. You could tell he loved being bigger than you, finally something he had to humble all the sass you loved to throw at him earlier. A not-so-secret attraction you had for him all this time you feebly tried to disguise with disdain. 

Miguel felt it too, and God, right now he couldn't get enough of all the little whines and sounds you were making. How desperate you got just from a little deep conversation and bourbon. This night was swiftly traveling in a more heated direction, and if he wasn't mistaken by the subtle rolls of your body against his aching bulge in his jeans and the hunger laced in your fingers as they tangled in his hair, you had no intention of stopping. 

"Not so feisty now, are you?" He groaned as he started leaving heated kisses along both delicate junctures of your neck. "Sure you're not gonna change your mind  and go back to stealing my farm, hermosa?" He teased. 

"Oh, fuck off..." You grumbled and then bit your lip, back arching involuntarily when you felt him just barely tug your delicate nipple with his teeth. "Aaah Aahhh, Miguel..." You threw your head back.

Miguel smirks and takes that as permission to lay you back completely on his bar, gently tugging the waistband of your business slacks while he switched between both tits and lapped them with the pointy tip of his tongue, until both buds of your nipples were bumpy and hard from all the attention. "You can still stop at any time..." 

"N-No more asking..." You managed to sputter out as you felt his fingers begin to wiggle against your clothed heat that was steadily soaking from the inside. "Just- fffuck, Miguel, so good...just fuck me..." 

"Mmmm..." Miguel groaned in satisfaction and yanked off your pants, followed by your panties without another word. 

Pure ecstacy rolled off the tip of his tongue and dripped between your warm folds as he began to slurp your pussy up like hot cocoa. Miguel strategically left your high heels on, smirking as he glanced over at the mirror on the wall, seeing the pretty businesswoman half naked and back arched so beautifully, moaning as he ate you out on his bar. 

Despite never knowing your body before, his tongue just seemed to find and hit all the right spots, even the ones you were too impatient to look for when you laid in bed all alone. He sucked, and he spit, rolling your clit so perfectly between his lips and leaving no inch of your pretty pussy unbathed by his tongue. 

He alternated between tongue fucking you where his thick nose squished against your clit, hands slinking up the soft flesh of your hips, encouraging you to grind on his face. When he paused and brought his face up to look at you, you swore he was never more handsome than when his face was shiny with your slick, dripping with the evidence that he could make you wetter than any man you'd ever been with.

And other times, he loved to just stare into your eyes with that same, beautifully mesmerizing gaze that was almost too intense to where you'd have to turn away, only for him to whisper, "ah, ah, mirame..." (Look at me) , while his thumb slowly rubbed over your swollen clit, and his middle and ring finger noisily and wetly massaged your squishy walls. 

"Miguel, baby, so good..." You moaned and you sighed, face twisting into a smile as you bit your lip. It felt so shameless to indulge right now. Your career hit the road the second you decided to kiss him but right now you weren't complaining. Logic took a permanent vacation leaving you with nothing but raw, carnal need. All that mattered right now was spreading your legs for this man, being his whore, riding his face and taking his cock every which way he'd have you tonight. 

Your eyes watered as you felt that familiar feeling swelling in your belly, thighs shaking more unsteadily than before. Your back slightly arched from where you laid on his bar but the pleasure Miguel kept injecting into you with his sinfully delicious tongue kept you right there.

"M-Miguel...I'm gonna cum." 

Miguel went even harder, nuzzling his nose even further into your dripping heat, savoring the dribbling honey running between your thighs and dripping into his mouth. He added his fingers again, fingers normally rough and taut and calloused from all that work he did on the farm became soft, intentional, sensual, and deliberate as he coaxed your pussy closer and closer to releasing all over for him.

Your thighs began to quiver around his head, clamping down, however Miguel would gladly suffocate every time for the cause.

"R-right there, Miguel..." 

"Right here, baby?" He groans, swirling his finger in circles over that tried and true spot on your clit, another gush of your juices wetting his fingers before the flood, and Miguel leans over to clean it up with his tongue. 

Every touch now feels amplified in electricity, bordering on overstimulation as his tongue glosses over your soaked folds, something changing in your brain chemistry as he licked up every bit of your arousal as though it were frosting from a bowl. 

"Still with me?" Miguel whispered, leaning in and making out with you as he scooped you into his arms, leading you over to the couch, the entire room painted in an alluring orange glow from the fire next to the warm yellow lights from the tall Christmas tree. 

You groaned as you tasted yourself on his soft, messy lips, the ember of desire burning hotter than ever in both of you. "Y-yeah..." 

Miguel smiles as he sets you down next to him, reaching over and pulling a fleece blanket over your shoulders. His thumb gently brushed the corner of your mouth as he took you in. The most sobering moment between you all evening. One where the alcohol had some time to sink in and both of you were riding out the end of your high together. A new kind of closeness beginning to set itself alight between you as you wordlessly began stripping off the rest of your clothes and you reached for his. 

"Can I?" You asked and a low groan rumbled from his chest. 

"Please." 

You weren't sure, but somehow despite his sass, his generosity and sole focus on making you cum with no assumption on his part that you would be obligated to do the same for him made you even more determined as you peeled back layer after layer, until he sat there in all of his naked glory in front of you. 

He was absolutely beautiful. The salt and pepper pattern from his stubble on his jaw was repeated in his happy trail, leading to a nice, thick, bush around the base of his thick, veiny, cock (More fun for you when you'd be riding him into next week later on).

The tip was just barely a hint of red as it bloomed with precum.  His legs and arms were hairy as well, stomach soft with just the right amount of pudge but everywhere else was solid pure muscle that could only be found on a man who worked hard in the elements, dark hair tousled a bit that fell in his eyes from your passionate fingers earlier. 

The throbbing ache pounded, the glistening sheen between your thighs was all the lube you needed as he pulled you into his lap. Miguel's eyes remained completely locked on you, softening a bit as he felt himself start to push inside you. 

He had suspected sometime around while you were moaning his name and he was lapping up your arousal like an oasis that this whole encounter was deeper than a hookup, and now, he realizes he's sunk: hook line and sinker as your pussy just grips and squeezes him. He sighs as his hands find residence on your hips, taking pleasure in kneading the soft fat. 

"Take your time...." He whispered as he noticed you struggling a bit under his sheer size, his girth slowly spreading you more open. Somehow though, the stretch felt more rewarding, more sinful as you became fuller and fuller of him as you just allowed yourself to relax. 

Miguel's cock bottomed out inside of you, an experimental twitch of his cock reminded you on all fronts that you were stuffed to the brim. He adored this, he loved being so close to you like this, loved the satisfaction that the woman who supposedly hated his guts at first was now completely putty in his hands as you wrapped effortlessly around him. 

"So damn warm..." Miguel purred as he began bouncing you in a slow rhythm. "Ah, ah, mas despacio, por favor(more slow please)..." He teased, grip tightening as he slowed your hips. "I wanna enjoy you like this for a while." He grunted and groaned, loving the way you just responded with more dripping slick around his base as he leaned in to suck on your tits while keeping himself buried inside. "If I'd known you felt this good I would've dragged you out of that fucking snow a lot earlier." He murmured before his lips puckered over your nipple. 

"Please, Mig..." You rolled your eyes but returned a chuckle with a sigh, gently rolling your hips while his cock remained warm and snug inside you. "I'll admit when you pulled up on that four wheeler, it was kind of hard not think about you bending me over the seat.." 

"Yeahh?" Miguel groaned as he churned his hips, drawing his cock in and out of your sea of wetness. "Shouldn't have told me that, now I might need to make that happen..."

As he spoke, his pace increased faster and faster. 

"Aaahh, Miguel...Miguel!" Your threshold was being tested on how much you could take, but nearly fell apart altogether when he added his thumb back to your clit while continuing to fuck up into you ruthlessly. 

"Come on baby, with me...let go."  

And your highs came in waves, yours first followed by his like a bursting dam. His cum overwhelmed your tight hole, causing it to dribble down the sides in filthy display but you loved it, shoving yourself back down on his cock with naughty enthusiasm. Miguel smirked at you, eyes still slightly dazed from euphoria. 

"Good to see you're not wasting any, baby." 

And before you knew it he picked you up, yelping slightly then giggling when you took the initiative of squeezing your thighs tighter around his waist, cock still softening slowly inside your silky pussy, but beginning to pulse back to life as you and Miguel began making out passionately while he took careful steps with you cradled in his arms to his bedroom. 

Perhaps by now you didn't have a job anymore, the future of Miguel's farm was still uncertain, surely you'd be the talk of the entire town come a few months later when your tummy would be swelling with the evidence of every steamy thing that took place tonight inside this snowed in ranch. But, for now, you had much harder, longer, thicker things on your mind as round two became three, then four, with a surprise fifth in the middle of the night and a sixth in the morning. 

When all is said and done, you could always just blame it on the snow. 

[charliemwrites]

Mafia!au part 5!

A bit of fluff, a bit of drama, a bit of Soap!

Content: Attempted Gaslighting, Violence

“Gooood morning, sir!” you sing as you sweep into Mr. Price’s office. “And happy birthday!”

His head shoots up from whatever he was brooding over, brows arched high in genuine shock. Surprise is a good look on him.

“How the bloody hell did you know it’s my birthday?” he demands, sitting back in his chair.

You beam, sauntering right up to his desk. His eyes flick to the round white box balanced on top of your tablet. Nothing big, a little something you baked at home after a couple dissatisfying trials.

“It’s my job to know,” you reply easily.

He blinks– a habit you flatter yourself thinking he might have picked up from you. “What else do you know about me?”

You tilt your head at him, a smug curve to your lips.

“Just the basics. Your full name and birthday,” you demure. Hold up your free hand and start rattling off on your fingers. “Height, allergies, tea preference, pastry preference, blood type, drink of choice…”

You set the box in front of him and resettle your tablet in the crook of your arm. He stares at you for a beat, expression bleached from surprise to outright shock. You spin your stylus around your fingers.

“Which is why I made you a marble cake with whiskey instead of rum.”

His eyes lock onto the unassuming white box. It’s not a big cake by any means, about six inches in diameter and only one layer. Just a small something for Price to have for himself. God knows the rest of the boys (and Farah) get enough treats from you as it is.

“You made this?” he asks, leaning a bit forward.

“Yessir,” you declare, “and I’m pretty good at it too. Perks of stress baking.”

He runs a hand down his face, as if his beard got ruffled. “Christ, you need a raise.”

“Yes. Anyway – I’ll get you a plate after I’m done,” you say, swatting at his curious hand. He huffs but sits back to give you his full attention. You smile in reward and begin reciting his schedule for the day.

He listens, only interrupting when he needs clarification on little details. You try not to be too endeared by the way his eyes occasionally flick to the covered cake. When you finish, you twitch your nose at him knowingly.

“I’ll get you a plate before I get started on that expense summary,” you say, turning on your heel.

You hum in surprise when a large, calloused hand catches your wrist. It’s not the hand of a businessman, you think, but a man used to work. A man who does the hard things for himself. Before meeting John Price, you would have scoffed at the thought of a rich man knowing labor. Price though… well, he’s been proving to be a welcome exception since the very start.

“Thank you for this, love,” he says, voice hitting that tone and pitch that makes your insides squirm. He caresses his thumb over the tender skin before releasing you. “Really.”

You can already feel the blush climbing up the back of your neck, over your ears, creeping onto your cheeks. Can’t ever catch a break with him.

“Well, don’t thank me ‘til you’ve tried it,” you try to deflect.

“Weren’t you the one saying you’re decent at baking.”

“Yeah, well… maybe I poisoned you or something – for that time you closed my skirt in the door.”

He sputters a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the indignance on his face. Such a handsome, almost regal man. You love to rile him up.

“I apologized. Profusely.”

And offered to buy you a new skirt entirely. The way you’d shrieked that that was not an appropriate response made Soap choke with laughter as people stared.

“Yeah, well, I hold a grudge,” you reply, shrugging.

It’s true, but not about things like that. Graves and his assistant? Oh, that’s practically a blood feud at this point. A silly little accident where your boss left a crease in your fourth favorite skirt? That’s not even something to forgive him for, but you sure as hell will never forget. Especially when he still seems mildly sheepish about it.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he grumbles. You’re not sure if he’s talking about grudges or poisoning, but the dramatics finally make you laugh.

“But I could be the last,” you call over your shoulder as you flounce out.

Not for long though, returning with a disposable fork from the breakroom. There’s something amusing to only you about a man in a thousand-pound suit using cheap plastic.

“Come to see me keel over for yourself, then?” he asks.

“Well, I can’t have you getting cake crumbs on the expense reports,” you reason.

He’s already got the lid open. No icing on the cake – you’re shit at decorating, so you chose a recipe without icing. The flavor of the whiskey and sugar should be plenty. To make up for it, you folded a tiny placard and wrote “Happy Birthday, Boss!” in your best loopy cursive.

He takes the fork, fingers brushing yours in the process. You remind yourself not to snatch your hand away like a scandalized Victorian lady. Christ, you really need to get it together.

“Tell me how you like it,” you say, making to leave again.

“Come try it yourself,” he protests.

You pause, give him an amused look. “I didn’t actually poison it, sir. You’ve not done anything that heinous. Yet.”

He snorts, carefully digging out a respectable bite from the edge. “If you see fit to toss a little rat poison in, then I’ll likely having it coming.”

You hum. “Arsenic is more my style. Classic.”

In the corner of the room, Simon makes a little noise you’ve come to recognize as repressed laughter. You shoot him a quick, amused look, before shifting your attention back as Price gestures with the fork.

“Regardless, you should get a little taste of the fruits of your labor,” he offers.

The fruits of your labor, you think with a bit of regret, will be his enjoyment of your baking. You’re not sure when his admiration became your favorite part of the day, but you’re spoiled for positive feedback from your otherwise stern boss.

“You first,” you insist, “it’s your birthday after all.”

He keeps unnerving eye contact as he brings the bite to his mouth, tongue flicking out to catch any spare crumbs. He hums, eyes closing a for a second in enjoyment, before opening and fixating on you again.

“That’s bloody brilliant, love.”

He scoops up another piece, brings it right to your mouth. You hurry to put a hand beneath in case it falls; don’t even think before parting your lips. Sugar and whiskey, chocolate and vanilla, burst across your tongue.

“Oh!” you hum, hiding your mouth while you chew. “That is pretty good.”

It only occurs to you as he takes another bite for himself, a twinkle in his eye, that you just ate after him. Used the same fork like it was nothing, like that’s an acceptable thing to do as his assistant. You’re not squeamish by any means, no. It’s just… it’s gotta be crossing some sort of professional line. You can’t imagine any of your previous bosses ever sharing with you like this.

“Let me tell you, if you did poison it,” he muses, “I wouldn’t mind it being the last thing I ate.”

You roll your eyes, swat lightly at his arm again. “I told you; it’s not poisoned.”

“I know, you just took a bite,” he answers smugly.

You click your tongue at him, playing at exasperated. “I’m going to work now.”

“Ta, love.”

--

“Oi, li’l miss?”

You glance up at Soap curiously.

(Recognize, in the back of your mind, that it’s a nickname that’s not only spread – thanks, Simon – but that you’re responding to as quickly as your own name now. You should probably feel some type of way about that. Probably righteously annoyed or something. You don’t.)

Soap is standing at your desk, shifting from foot to foot. Uneasy. But the expression on his usually friendly face isn’t nervous. It’s… something else. Something you don’t know how to decipher but makes you sit up a bit straighter, alert.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask, voice light.

“There’s some bloke down in the lobby, says he’s got a date with you?” he explains, frowning deeper than you’ve ever seen.

It gets deeper – and angrier – when he sees the blood drain from your face. You push your chair away from your desk to hide the tremble that’s trying to infest your hands.

Absolutely not. This is your place of work, dammit. Where you’re calm and collected, the person anyone can turn to for solutions. You’ve worked so hard to craft this sleek vessel of professional grace and you’re not about to have it sullied like this.

“He does not have a date with me,” you state, keeping your voice flat and tight. “Would you come down with me, please?”

“’Course,” he replies instantly.

You stop by Price’s office, knock twice, then poke your head in when he calls for entry.

“I’ve just got to pop out for a mo’,” you explain, “I’ll be right back!”

He nods and you duck out again before he can notice anything amiss. For a rich bastard, he’s too observant of others. (Especially you.)

“What’s he here fer, then?” Soap asks in the elevator.

You let out an annoyed puff of air. “A reality check, I assume.”

He side-eyes you but doesn’t ask any further before the doors open.

Sure enough, standing in the lobby, is the last man you want to see. Your ex, Brandon.

“There you are, bunny. You’ve been keeping me waiting for—”

“One, do not call me that. It’s inappropriate,” you interrupt, crisp and sharp. “Two, I haven’t been keeping you waiting, because there’s nothing to wait for. Three, get out.”

He rolls his eyes, that smarmy curve to his lips never leaving. You don’t think he’s even noticed Soap just behind you yet.

“Look, I know you’re still in a mood about everything,” he says, “but that’s why I’m taking you out. To smooth things over. Clear the air, and all that.”

“You’re not taking me out,” you repeat. “Get out.”

He crosses his arms, tilting his head in that condescending way you’ve always despised. It sets your teeth on edge, makes you burn with anger.

“This isn’t your building,” he goads, “you can’t kick me out.”

“Might as well be hers, mate,” Soap interjects, “she could kick out the goddamn queen.”

Brandon’s focus shifts to him. You feel a curl of vindictive satisfaction when his expression curdles a bit. Soap may not be a particularly tall man, but he can be intimidating. Built thick and strong, doesn’t bother to conceal his physique at all with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. And you’re not oblivious to his looks either. Soap is a handsome man. A walking ego bruise for a man like your ex.

“Fine,” he huffs, “then come outside so we can talk like adults.”

You click your tongue, fold your hands behind your back to conceal the way your fingers clench into fists. “We did talk like adults. You just failed to listen like one.”

And ohhhh, the petty satisfaction that bubbles through you at the way his teeth click in shock, a flush of embarrassed anger curtaining his face.

“Now, I’ll ask one more time and then my coworker is going to toss you out himself.” Soap chooses that moment to crack his knuckles. “Leave this building. You’re not welcome.”

You drop your arms and turn on your heel, ready to get back to work and compartmentalize this until you’ve got a fuck-off sized glass of wine in front of you.

“Hey, we’re not—”

Even if you did see what happened, you don’t think you could have followed. It happens so fast. One second, Soap’s eyes are on you. Burning with questions and fury on your behalf, checking that you’re okay. The next, he’s darted past you. There’s a scuffle, fancy shoes squeaking on polished floors, a thick, wet pop. Then Brandon is shouting in pain.

You jump, twist to see what the commotion is. Soap’s got a white-knuckled grip on Brandon’s extended wrist – though now it’s bent at an awful angle, you realize he must have been reaching for you. Your skin crawls.

“Away ‘n bile yer heid,” Soap growls, shoving Brandon back roughly.

He doesn’t fall on his ass but it’s a near thing. With the eyes of reception, a few employees, and you on him, he spits a curse at Soap and retreats. You stare after for a moment, lips parted in shock.

“All set, miss?” Soap asks, adjusting his sleeves.

“Um, yeah,” you say. Blink and pull yourself together. “I mean, yes. Let’s head back up before the boss misses us.”

He places a hand on the small of your back on the short walk back. It feels grounding rather than proprietary; you’re grateful for it. He lasts until the doors close before turning to you.

“The hell was that about, lass?”

You sigh, smooth your skirt down for lack of anything else to do. “That was my ex. He wants to… reconcile, I suppose. And he’s quite keen on getting his way.”

Soap mutters a few choice words under his breath. Scottish slang, you suspect. You’ll have to get him to teach you sometime.

“Anyway, thank you for your help,” you continue, eyes on the elevator doors. “I can’t believe he showed up here. I’m so embarrassed.”

“You’ve nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hen,” he protests. “He’s the creeper here.”

You sigh. “I know, I just… you don’t think less of me, do you? That I didn’t… take care of him myself.”

Soap’s expression softens. He draws you into a quick one-armed hug. “You did take care of ‘im, far as I’m concerned. I was just there to enforce. No need to mess up yer pretty nails, aye?”

You smile, small but genuine. “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime, li’l miss.”

The elevator chimes as it reaches the top floor. You turn to Soap just before the doors open.

“Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.”

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Masterlist

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Fire and Frost

17/12: Tinsel and Talking Dirty - modern!Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 1.7k~ | Warnings: pussy slapping, dirty talk, hair pulling

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

The faint hum of the central heating filled the apartment, its warmth fighting back the biting chill of the December evening. The scent of cinnamon lingered faintly, a remnant of the candle she had lit earlier. Aemond leaned back against the sofa, watching her with a bemused expression.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

She could roll her eyes, again, but she doubted it would make a difference. Mr. I-don’t-celebrate-Christmas sat cross-armed, observing as she unwrapped a tangle of decorations, their bright colors gleaming under the soft, golden glow of the apartment’s floor lamp. A tiny artificial tree perched on the side table, not her usual five foot, real fir, but it would have to do.

She paused and gave him a pointed look. “Don’t be a Scrooge, help me decorate.”

“What in the Seven Hells is a ‘Scrooge’?”

The exasperation bubbled up again, and this time she did roll her eyes. “Seriously? Have you never had Christmas before?”

A faint shadow flickered over his face, so brief she nearly missed it. The idea left her both curious and sad, but before she could push the thought further, she shook it off and pulled out another box of decorations.

If he'd never had a proper Christmas before, she'd give a good one.

Soon, she was dragging him off the sofa, his exhaled huff carrying the faintest tinge of amusement. Together, they worked their way around the apartment. She hummed softly as she placed ceramic Christmas trees and wreaths on shelves and countertops, her enthusiasm battling with his stoic nature. Aemond followed, his movements reluctant but oddly endearing. She couldn’t help but smile as their shared space became cozier with every ornament.

The sharp metallic shimmer of tinsel caught her eye as she moved to the mantle. She turned, mid-smirk, just in time to see Aemond wrestling with a particularly unruly length of it. 

“What the fuck is this stuff?” he muttered, holding it up as if it might bite him.

She snorted, “Aemond, you sound like an alien.”

“It’s awful. And it looks like shit—”

“Okay, okay,” she interrupted, laughing, “Are we still going out later?”

Aemond blinked, momentarily thrown by the shift in topic. “To the cocktail bar? The one you saw with Aegon…and whoever he was with?”

“Yes!” She beamed, “that one. I thought it looked festive.”

“I’m ready whenever you are. I’ll go out like this.”

She gave him a skeptical glance but didn’t argue. Slipping into the bedroom, she began to get ready. She rummaged through her wardrobe, pulling out her black leather boots and the outfit she had been saving. The faint hum of a holiday tune played in her head as she freshened up at the vanity. A bag of sparkly hair tinsel caught her eye, an odd souvenir from Aegon’s drunk ex in a bar bathroom.

She hesitated, then shrugged. Why not?

When she emerged, her boots clicking softly against the wooden floor, she called out, “Nearly ready, Aem!” She dabbed a little of her favorite perfume on her wrists. Floral and spicy.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn on the sofa, about to reply, but the words stalled as his gaze swept over her. She looked down at herself, smoothing her skirt before glancing up. “What?” she asked, her cheeks warming. “Too much?”

His lips parted slightly, his one good eye fixed on her hair. “No, it’s…it’s in your hair.”

“What is?” She blinked, confused.

“That…tinsel stuff.”

She reached up, fingers brushing against the glimmering strands. “Oh! No, it’s hair tinsel. It gives your hair an extra sparkle. Don’t you like it?”

For a moment, he didn’t reply, his expression unreadable. Then a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he stepped closer. “No,” he murmured, his fingers reaching out to gently catch a sparkling strand, “it looks…nice.”

“Just nice?” she teased softly, her lips parting as his hand formed a fist in her hair.

For some reason it felt as if they wouldn’t even make it out the door tonight.

He tugged gently, enough to send a shiver down her spine and have her knees shake. She knew that look. The Christmas lights danced off her hair now, but the warmth she felt, she couldn’t say was from them alone. It started against her pulse point, thrumming through her blood, to settle in her stomach, fluttering with anticipation.

A bemused grin swept across his face, mismatched eyes looked back with amusement, his other hand dropping to her side, palming her backside and bringing her body flush with his.

“I've decided,” he starts, his breath ghosting across her cheek, “I don't like your outfit.”

She felt his lips drift across her jawline, to press open-mouthed kisses down her neck, over her pulse point, knowing exactly where all her weak spots lived.

“That so,” she whispered back, voice thick with need.

“Mmhm,” he murmured, using his grip in her hair to tilt her neck, eager for more skin. He could smell the floral notes of her perfume pressed against her flesh, and the more he tasted, the more he wanted.

“I think you're trying to distract me,” she mused.

“Am I?” he replied, his tone laced with faux innocence as he nipped at her skin, down to her collarbone, grinding himself against her to gain the slightest bit of friction. Her fingers curled into his shirt, to keep herself firmly on her feet.

“Aemond, we're going to be late.”

He smirked against her skin, a puff of air against her neck was all she needed to feel to know he felt that he'd won a game she wasn't aware they were playing.

“For what? Overpriced cocktails and obnoxious strangers?”

Her lips parted to retort, but his hand slid down her back, tracing a slow, deliberate path that left her unable to form a coherent thought.

He chuckled, the sound dark and rough, and the hand at her waist slipped lower, cupping her ass and pulling her firmly against him. She could feel the hard line of his arousal pressing against her, and heat bloomed in her core, spreading through her like wildfire.

“Now why would you think I'd waste my night out there…when I could stay in and watch you fall apart on my cock instead.”

Her breath hitched. “Aemond—”

“You like that idea, don’t you?” he interrupted, his tone smug and filthy. His hands gripped her hips now, guiding her against him in a slow grind that left no room for denial. “You’d rather let me spread you out right here, wouldn’t you? Make you beg for it, make you scream my name until you can’t think of anything else.”

The room felt hotter, the air heavier. She tried to steady herself, but his words were relentless, each one unraveling her resolve bit by bit.

“I’ll fuck you right here,” he continued, his hand sliding up her thigh, fingers brushing the hem of her skirt. “Against the wall, on the floor, over the back of the sofa, you can choose. But by the end of the night, you’ll be a mess. My mess.”

She pulled back to look at him, her cheeks flushed with need. There was no time for thoughts, she needed him, and clearly judging by his erection pressed against her stomach, he needed her too.

“Sofa,” she whispered.

He hummed, brushing his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. “Fine,” he drawled, taking a step back and leading her toward the sofa. 

His eye raked over her as he leaned back, one arm draped casually over the back, the other patting his thigh. “On top,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She hesitated for a moment, the weight of his gaze searing into her.

“Don’t make me wait,” he snapped. “If you’re so desperate to be fucked, then you’re going to do the work, love. Show me how much you want it.”

Her cheeks burned as she straddled him slowly, the soft leather cool beneath her knees as she settled over his lap.

“That’s better,” he muttered, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force. “So good for me.”

She whimpered at his words, her thighs tightening around him as his fingers slid beneath the hem of her skirt, tracing the bare skin of her thighs.

“You think you deserve to ride me?” he sneered, his good eye narrowing as his hand slipped between them, finding the slick heat waiting for him. He groaned softly, his voice darkening. “Fuck, you’re already soaked. Such a desperate little slut.”

He punctuated the name with a soft, wet smack, her breath hitched in part pleasure and pain, but eased as his fingers brushed her clit, the teasing touch sending jolts of pleasure through her.

“Beg,” he commanded, his fingers circling lazily. “If you want to fuck yourself on my cock, you’re going to have to beg for it.”

Her pride wavered, teetering on the edge of defiance, but the ache in her core was too overwhelming. “Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers pulling away entirely, leaving her whining in frustration. “That’s pathetic, even for you,” he smirked, “go on then, baby.”

She reached down, her trembling fingers undoing his belt and pulling his cock free. He was hard, thick, and the sight of him made her mouth go dry. She lined herself up, sinking down slowly, her walls stretching to accommodate him as her head fell back with a gasp.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands gripping her waist as he watched her. “That’s it. Take it all. Every inch. Don’t stop until you’ve got me buried inside that greedy little cunt.”

Her thighs trembled as she sank down fully, her body flush against his. She began to rock her hips, her movements tentative at first, but his sharp grip and the filthy words spilling from his lips spurred her on.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, his hand coming down hard on her ass with a sharp smack that made her cry out. “Come on, fucking work for it. If you want to come, you’re going to have to earn it.”

Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against her sensitive skin.

“Look at you,” he growled, his eyes locked on her. “So fucking needy, using me like a toy. Bet you don't even care about getting me off.”

And Gods, why would she when it felt this good?

General Taglist: @1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @all-for-aemond @bellstwd @blackswxnn

@blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @cl-0-vr @eddieslut69

@emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

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@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @sheshellsseashells

[shu-porang-porang]

Cat In Heat

You got him a little surprise!

(sequel: Bunny In Heat)

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Rating: Very Explicit!

Theme: Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.

Warnings: oral, fingering, butt plug, spanking, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), (I think that's enough! let's keep some elements of surprise!)

Word count: 2.8 k

You received a text from Minho: “Hey baby, I’m gonna hit the gym and grab a bite with Jisung next.”

He arrived at 4 a.m. so you didn’t expect him to go to the gym first thing when he woke up, but apparently that’s what he’s gonna do. He was away for only 3 days but you missed him so much it was gnawing at your every fiber. Last night you only noticed his arrival when the mattress dipped next to you and then he spooned you. You tried to fight your sleep weary eyes and wake up to greet him properly but his warmth and the comfort of his presence lulled you back to sleep seconds later. When you woke up this morning, leaving the bed was the hardest thing, you just wanted to stay tangled up with his limbs but you had to leave for work. You slowly slipped out the bed, trying to not wake him up in the process, then placed the softest kiss on his temple, you couldn’t wait to get back and feast on his lips later.

You can’t wait for this work day to be over. Your mind is somewhere else entirely, you’re thinking of the little gift you prepared for him. Two days ago was Valentines Day and he was away. Since it was your first valentine together, you were bummed that you couldn’t spend it with him, but you knew what you got yourself into when you started dating a very busy idol, so you put up a front and did your best to assure him it didn’t matter and you weren’t upset. There’s no point in making a fuss about it anyway, it’s not like they would cancel their plans because you wanted to be with your boyfriend. He said he’d make it up to you later and you decided you can plan a belated valentine when he’s back. Little did he know, you’ve been preparing something for him for weeks. You just can’t decide on the right time to give it to him.

You’re done for the day and there’s nothing else for you to do at work, you ask your boss if you could leave earlier and he says yes. So, you rush to your shared apartment. You have some time before he’s home so you decide to unpack his suitcase. As you’re going through his stuff, you find a box of chocolate, you can’t read the Japanese written all over it, but there’s no doubt it’s chocolate. He always brings you some souvenir so without giving it much thought, you open the box and try one. Well, it’s nothing special, just descent chocolate. Not every souvenir has to be something unique, right? You place it on the drawer and go back to your task at hand.

As time passes by, you start to feel impatient and on edge. It’s like when you have lots of caffein and you get jittery, except that it’s more of a warm feeling, it settles deep in your stomach. It’s not exactly uncomfortable but you’re not sure what’s causing it so you decide to distract yourself by checking the little surprise you got for Minho. You take out the stuff you hid in the back of your bottom drawer and sprawl them out on the bed. It’s an outfit you’ve put together. White and pink lingerie, stockings, garters, a chocker, and few other accessories, but the most exciting parts of the ensemble are the fluffy cat ears and tail. You pick up the tail, feel the weight of the plug attached to it. It was the last item you got and you haven’t come around to try it yet. Suddenly you worry you won’t be able to wear it. What if you can’t get used to it and have to take it off? You don’t know when you’re gonna give him his gift, but you decide to try it now that you’re alone and see if you can handle it.

You take your pants and panties off, hold the tail in your hand, not sure how to go about it. You poke the tip of the shiny plug to your hole but you stop as you can’t get it in even the slightest. Idiot! You need to prepare with lube first! Your hands fidget through the drawer with excitement in search for the lube you bought. You picked a very specific flavor, caramel, hoping it would taste similar to pudding! Too bad they didn’t have a pudding flavor! You lather a finger up and try again. It’s really uncomfortable but you wanna do it for him and you will do it. It’s a weird feeling, having a finger up your butt, and you think there’s no way it’s gonna get loose enough for the plug to fit in but you don’t give up. The warm feeling in your stomach from earlier encourages you to keep going. You move that finger around till you feel less resistance, then you take it out to lube up two fingers this time. You don’t wanna get too loose or the plug will fall out? Is that even a thing? You don’t know, so you decide to give the plug a try. You carefully pour lube on the plug, you don’t wanna ruin the fur, then you push it in and it fits perfectly! You clench and unclench your sphincter a few times, testing how it feels, then you stand up and check yourself in the mirror.

Watching the tail dangling from between your butt cheeks turns you on instantly. You immediately rid yourself of the rest of your clothes to put all the parts of the ensemble on. You pose in front of the mirror. You spend some time putting on a light cute makeup while enjoying a second piece of chocolate, then take another look at your entire outfit. Wow! You look so fuckable!! If only Minho got home sooner. You take a photo of your thigh hugged tightly by the stockings and the garter and send it to him along with: “Are you really gonna hang out with that stupid Ji while I’m waiting for you like this?” 

A few seconds later you receive a text from him: “On my way, be there in 10 minutes”

He finally gets home. He’s heart been racing since he laid eyes on that photo and he’s been sporting a semi-hard cock all along. Good thing his oversized hoodie covered it up. He opens the door to the apartment to find you stretched out on the couch, practically humping a cushion.

“Holy fuck! What’s gotten into you today?” He says as he approaches you in disbelief. His eyes scanning your outfit and becoming wide in shock as he notices the tail poking from under the mini skirt covering your ass.

“I’m just being hot for my boyfriend, is that wrong?” You say, stretching like a cat and raising your ass in the air. The skirt rides up and he sees that the tail isn’t a strap on or attached to the skirt.

He kneels next to the couch, running a hand up your thigh till it reaches where the tail inserts your body. He gives the plug an experimental push that draws a whimper from you.

“Kitty’s in heat, huh? What a naughty lil kitty. I’ll take care of you, pussy cat.” His hand comes in contact with your drenching pussy as he says the last word. You mewl in need. Your skin is on fire and his touch feels too good to be true. You can’t think straight, all you know is that you need him next to you, on you, in you, you just want him to take you right then and there.

He picks you up effortlessly and carries you to the bedroom, plops you on the bed and causes the plug to go a bit deeper, drawing a hiss from you. You sit up and get on your knees, reaching for his hand to drag him to bed.

“Easy baby, what’s the rush?” He says as his free hand is unbuttoning his shirt. Despite your needy erratic movements, he’s so calm, mostly just enjoying the view of your eagerness.

As soon as he gets on the bed, you reach to unbuckle his belt. He watches you in silence, the way your dainty fingers struggle with the belt and his waistband. You pull his pants and boxers down and he eases out of them. His cock springs free and you don’t hesitate to attach your lips to it. Usually it’s not how things go, you haven’t even kissed him once since he arrived, but your head is filled with carnal desires and you don’t need foreplay to get in the mood.

He leans back on his elbows as your head bobs up and down on his member, bringing it to life fast. You lick a fat stripe from the base to the top, your tongue teases the head with playful licks, his low grunts are melody to your ears. Precum pearls on the tip and you collect it all with your tongue. You wrap your lips around the tip again and give it a few sucks. He sits back up to stop you.

“I won’t last long if you keep that up.” he lifts your chin up, and fixes your cat ear headpiece “Aigoo! What a dirty little kitty.” He coos at you with his eyes fixed on your lips, all swollen and red, so kissable. You get the cue and move closer, clashing your lips. Kissing him after days feels like you’ve been deprived of oxygen and you can finally breathe. You straddle him, your fingers in his soft locks, his hands around your shoulders, your chests heave against one another. You push him on his back as you deepen the kiss, you hungrily suck on his tongue and pull his lips between your teeth. You only stop when your lungs are burning. You hide your face in his neck as you’re gasping for air, your core finding a rhyme to ride his thigh. You moan out his name at the new found friction. You’re not wearing any panties; you thought it wouldn’t be practical with a plug up your butt. Your slick coats his muscular thigh.

“Is kitty having a good time?”

“…mmh” you can’t form words, your brain already signed off and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You suck a spot under his ear while his hand reaches down to squeeze your butt cheek under the skirt.

“Then do me a favor and sit that pretty pussy down on my face.”

You don’t hesitate to follow his order. His tongue skillfully laps at your wet core, his nose nudges your clit. You try not to move but you have no control over your body anymore. Your hips move on their own, riding his face, so he gives your ass a slap as a warning. A loud squeak escapes your lips. You do your best to behave but how can you when now he’s sucking on your clit, while hooking a finger inside you and toying with the plug at the same time. He stops all stimulations at once when he realizes your close.

“…Min…… please”

“Naughty kitties don’t get to come so easily. Now get on fours”

You comply, what else would you do? You’d jump off a cliff if he told you so. You wiggle your ass to his face as he’s closely observing where the plug disappears inside you. Your outfit’s still intact but it’s not gonna last long. He pulls the plug out without warning and replaces it with his tongue. Instantly you hear his satisfied groan, he’s probably enjoying your choice of lubricant. You push back on his face, needing more friction. He brings a hand to rub around your clit while his teeth graze your rim. Your arousal drips shamelessly on the sheets, it’s like a leaky faucet, that’s how good he’s having you now. You never even imagined having your asshole eaten would feel good, something’s really gotten into you. He stops his ministrations just as you’re starting to feel the orgasm build up for the second time. He steps back to admire the view before shoving the plug back in and give you new instructions.

“Close your thighs and press them tight for me princess.”

You look back and see him aligning his oozing cock.

“Just… fuck me… already”

“Too soon…” he forcefully shoves his cock in the small gap between your thighs “…ughhh….for that”

After a few thrusts, he’s fully covered in your juices so he picks up the pace as it slides easier. His member rubs on your clit with every thrust but it’s nowhere near enough to get you off. He gives you a slap that makes you press your thighs harder, so he gives you another, and another, and another. You press your head to the pillow to muffle your yelps. You think you might be reaching a climax this time but no. He takes the plug out and flips you around. This time you don’t just complain with words, but tears are running down your face. You’re a mess.

“Oh little kitty, why the tears? Was I too harsh with my sweet angel?” he says as he towers over you and leans to kiss your tears away.

“No…. just….wanna cum”

“You will baby. You will”

He kisses your face some more and moves down to your neck and chest. He yanks your frilly chocker with his teeth and throws it on the bed, so he can properly kiss and mark your neck. Then he unhooks the lacy matching bra and discards it somewhere else in the room. His hands come in contact with your soft breasts, his thumbs rub your nipples simultaneously and your lips part in a whimper.

“My gorgeous lil kitty” he admires as he continues to knead your breasts and then dips to take one pebbled nipple between his teeth. His tongue twirls around it and he closes his lips on it to suck. His hand travels south to slip between your folds and find your entrance. He has two fingers inside you, with his thumb pressing down on your clit. You buck your hips up to his touch. He lets go of your nipple and comes back up to kiss your lips with his fingers still inside you. You’re so lost in the hot sloppy kiss that before you know it, his dick takes the place of his fingers in you. Fucking finally!

You bite his shoulder as he bottoms out in one go and the stretch overwhelms you. He moans in your ear from your delicious tightness.

“Please….Move baby” you plead and he obeys. Caging you between his hands on either side of your head, he takes his sweet time with slow thrusts. He pushes your thighs to your chest and throws your legs over his shoulders. With this new angle he reaches deep inside, hitting your cervix with every single thrust. It doesn’t take you long to feel the knot in your stomach again for the… you don’t even know how many times he got you there and left you unfulfilled. You tightly hold onto him as his thrusts get faster.

“ugh… gonna…. c..cum…”

“Cum for me… angel” he kisses your parted lips, muffling your moans, as your orgasm finally washes over you. He reaches a hand down to pinch your clit, your entire body jolts with each pinch as you’re riding out your orgasm. It’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had, well, you’d say that about every orgasm with him, but this one really hits different. Your fluttering walls around him milk him dry and a string of curses leaves his lips as he joins you. He rides his climax, still thrusting into you until your mixed cum forms a ring around his base.

He pulls out and falls on top of you, you don’t mind the weight, you’re too tired to care anyway and he feels like a heavy blanket, you don’t even care about your sticky bodies or sheets. You think you could die happy at this moment but he gets up to clean you before you drift off to sleep. He takes a good look at your fucked out state “Gosh! Baby you’re so hot. I love you so much”. You smile with your eyes closed “love you too”. You’re almost entering dreamland when he startles you:

“Fuck! Baby you ate these chocolates?” He found the open box of chocolates you left on the drawer.

“..mhmm”

“Did you know these were aphrodisiacs?”

“WHAT?” suddenly you’re fully awake, your eyes darting towards his direction.

“I wanted to try them together.” He says with an evident pout on his face.

“There’s still plenty left bunny boy.”

[roosterforme]

How Old Are You? | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob only gets one birthday every four years. When his wife, Molly, realizes it's almost Leap Day, she throws him a party any nine year old would love. And it's the perfect celebration for a thirty-six year old, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, implied smut, 18+

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC!Molly (this story accompanies The Curveball)

Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Bob was half asleep in bed, post orgasm, when the weird conversation started. "So technically you're about to turn nine? Even though you'll be thirty-six? Is that right?"

He cracked his eyes open again as he watched his wife stretch her arms above her head, her nipple piercings glinting in the soft candlelight that had their bedroom aglow. She was nibbling on her lip, and he could practically see her mind working.

"Yeah," he answered cautiously. "Why do you have that expression on your face, Mo? Like you're plotting something scary?"

"I've never plotted something scary a day in my life!" she told him before leaning down and gently biting his bicep. "I was merely considering what I should get you for your special day."

"I don't need anything," he replied quickly, remembering the naked cowboy statue wearing glasses that she gifted to him last year.

"Well," she said, drawing out the single syllable. "That's where I think you're wrong, Bobby."

"Molly, I don't even want anything." Then he had an idea that he hoped would throw her off. "How about you get some pretty new barbells or rings and let me play with them?"

She rolled her eyes. "That would be a gift for me."

He shrugged as she draped herself across him. "Kind of for both of us when you really think about it."

Her soft lips found his jaw as she whispered, "But it's not every day you turn nine, Coach Cute Glasses. You deserve an extra special treat."

He shook his head in exasperation and said, "I'll really be thirty six though."

"Not according to the calendar." She kissed him sweetly before climbing over him to get out of the bed. "I'll go check on Charlie and Flora one last time before we go to sleep." Bob watched her slip his discarded undershirt on and smooth it down over her gorgeous body, perhaps a little more filled out now that they had two kids.

He reached for her hand and said, "Mo, we really need to sell the condo and get a bigger place. They can't share that tiny room forever."

Even though she told him all the time that she loved the condo and didn't want to leave it, she was finally starting to come around. "I think I'm ready to admit that you might be right about that, Uncle Bob."

"Really?" he asked, jolting up in bed.

She nodded and hummed. "Yes. Besides, your birthday party would be a lot easier to plan if we had more space to accommodate all the guests."

Bob groaned and flopped back down again, and Molly removed his glasses for him. "I don't need a birthday party," he insisted. "I just want a nice, quiet evening with you and the kids. Maybe your sister, Ev and Bradley, too, but that's it."

"We'll see," she replied before leaving the bedroom with a wicked smirk on her face.

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

"Can you get to my sister's house by noon on your birthday? For your party?" Molly asked as she watched Bob feed a mashed up banana to their one year old daughter. 

"I thought we ended that discussion with us both accepting the fact that I do not need a birthday party."

"Yeah... it's too late for that," she replied easily as she and Charlie both ate their own dinners. Molly's favorite hobby was keeping her husband on his toes. She figured his life would be sad and boring without her in it, and since he chose to be with her, he must have a deep-seated love for nonsense. She always made sure to bring it out for him, especially for his birthday. 

He gave her a stern look. "It's just a small party, right?"

"Sure, Bobby."

"I don't believe you."

"Oh come on," she whined. "This is your first real birthday since we met!"

She knew he would crack. He gave her what she wanted the vast majority of the time anyway, but when she whined for something harmless, it was always hers. 

"Fine."

And with that single word, Molly executed the most epic ninth birthday anyone could ever have. She called the vendors. She ordered the piñata. She invited the guests. She procured a balloon arch. And on Bob's birthday, her own sister and brother-in-law were looking at her with shocked expressions from their back deck when she started setting things up at eight in the morning. 

"I thought this was going to be a small party?" Bradley asked as he watched her assemble the red and yellow balloon arch. 

Molly just laughed. "That's just what I told Bob. I lied. The pony should be arriving soon."

"Pony?" gasped her sister. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard. Did you say a pony is arriving?"

"Yes," Molly said, speaking a little louder now to make her point. "How the hell are we supposed to have a cowboy birthday party without pony rides?"

Then Everett came tearing out onto the back deck, still in his pajamas, shouting, "Someone is bringing a horse around from the driveway!"

"See?" Molly asked as the pony and handler appeared in the backyard. "Ev is excited. He has good taste."

"He's ten!" Bradley snapped as he went running across the yard. "Is this thing going to tear up the grass that I spent months watering so it looked this nice?" But as soon as he saw how excited Everett was to pet the cute animal, Molly knew her brother-in-law would be on her side. It was just her sister glaring at her now.

"Whatever you mess up out here, you need to clean up. That includes the horse poop!"

"It's just a pony," Molly assured her, although the animal was a lot bigger than she expected. And yes, it was actually pooping. "It's fine. It'll be fine."

She was hoping it would be fine.

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

When Bob buckled Charlie and Flora back into their car seats in his truck at Myers park, he checked the time. It was almost noon. "Oh god," he groaned as he opened the driver's door. He had no idea what to expect, but the text from Bradley about how he was going to need help filling in the hoof prints in their yard next week had him on edge.

"Birthday party!" Charlie cheered from the backseat as Bob pulled out onto the main road. Molly had been talking about it so much, their son kept saying it over and over.

"That's right," Bob told him calmly. "But I'm pretty sure Mommy went bananas over the entire thing."

"Nana!" Flora crooned before she burst into tears. He should have known better than to mention her favorite food right in front of her like that. So he drove to his sister-in-law and brother-in-law's house with one delighted child and one who was crying hysterically. When he pulled down their block, there was absolutely nowhere to park, and there was a horse trailer parked right in front of the house. 

"Oh, no. No no no. Molly, no," he whispered. When he got closer, he saw the massive banner hanging on the porch that said Happy Birthday, Cowboy Bob. He had to squeeze his truck into the driveway behind the familiar blue Bronco while he gaped at the sight before him.

"Horse!" Charlie screeched. He wasn't wrong. There was some sort of pony walking around the backyard with Everett perched on top of the saddle wearing a cowboy hat. "I want the horse!"

"Okay," Bob told him as he shook his head and climbed out of the truck. He walked around to the back of the house with one child in each arm, and thankfully when Flora saw the pony, she stopped crying, perhaps out of fear. 

"Bob!" Molly shouted over the classic country music that was playing as she popped out of the enormous rodeo themed bounce house and ran to him. Literally everyone he'd ever seen in his life seemed to be here, and they were all wearing cowboy hats. Everyone from work was here. Like everyone. Cyclone was wearing a cowboy hat and drinking a beer. Bob thought he saw the doctor that Molly worked with who delivered both of their children. His parents and both of his sisters were here. His niece Piper was taking a turn riding the pony. There were indeed hoof prints in the yard.

Then Molly was somehow in his arms along with both kids, and she was kissing his neck as she said, "Happy birthday," in a voice that would have been a lot more appropriate for their bedroom. 

"Mo," he said, shaking his head. "There's a pony. It's making Bradley look constipated." 

She just rolled her eyes in response. "He'll get over it as soon as I offer to watch Everett for a few days over spring break so he and my sister can go away and do nasty stuff to each other."

Bob just smiled down at her and said, "You told me this would be a small affair."

"I guess I lied. Oops. Come say hi to Phoenix." She dragged him up onto the deck where Natasha took both kids from him with a kiss to his cheek, and then Molly was yanking his shirt over his head.

"What are you doing?" he asked, standing there in his undershirt with his glasses askew. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, she was pulling another shirt over his head. It said Birthday Cowboy, and there was a number 9 that looked like it was shaped out of rope.

And that's when everyone started hugging him and running around to get him drinks and chat with him. Mickey was wearing cowboy boots and a cow print vest. Maverick was teaching the kids how to line dance. Bradley's scowl had started to ease up since Everett seemed to be having the time of his life. 

"Happy birthday, Uncle Bob," Everett said when he walked over. He hugged Bob and added, "Your birthday party is my favorite birthday party ever, and I can't believe it's in my yard!"

"Thanks, Ev," he replied with a laugh as he watched Molly and Flora dancing with Javy. "It is pretty cool."

"Happy birthday, Bob," his sister-in-law said, handing him a card. "You can open it later. We got you opening day tickets for the Padres. Also, I'm so sorry that my sister is so chaotic, but you should have known what you were getting into when you started dating her."

Bob accepted another kiss on his cheek. "She really can't be stopped once she gets going." 

"It's a waste of time to even try. Might as well sit back and enjoy the show."

He did, and the looser he got, the more fun he started to have. He pet the pony while Piper rode around on it. He smashed open a cowboy piñata with one of Everett's baseball bats. He jumped in the bounce house with Charlie and Everett, and Bradley even joined them.

"I'll help you fix your yard next week," Bob promised as Everett did a backflip. 

Bradley just laughed and said, "It's hard to be mad about it when Molly just wants everyone to have the time of their life. You're very lucky. Also, I don't know how you deal with her on a daily basis."

Bob laughed, too. "Sometimes I just take it one hour at a time."

"Get ready for cake!" Molly shouted, and it took five people to carry out the biggest sheet cake he'd ever seen in his life. It was cow print and decorated with boots and spurs, and said Happy 9th Birthday, Cowboy Bob!

After he blew out the nine candles he reached for Molly. "Thank you," he whispered, kissing her softly. "I didn't know I needed a ninth birthday party, but I guess I really did."

"You're only a kid once, Bobby," she replied, smiling against his lips.

"You do know I'm actually thirty-six, right?" he asked, pulling her snug against him as her sister started to cut up the cake. 

"Not according to the calendar," she responded, patting him gently on the cheek. "Your mom and I had a lovely conversation about how terrible you look for your age."

He tried not to smile, but it was useless. "I'm actually having the best day, Mo."

"I knew it all along."

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

Both kids were sound asleep as soon as Molly tucked them into bed. Charlie went on a sugar high and then crashed, and Flora was played with and held by seemingly everyone at the party. They would probably sleep for a solid twelve hours. Which was good, because Molly wanted to give her husband the rest of his birthday presents. 

She found him in their bedroom where he was opening up the cards he got with a soft smile on his face. "You have so many friends," she told him, and he turned to look at her. "Everyone loves Bob Floyd."

He actually blushed which made her want to rip all of his clothing to shreds and have her way with him. He shook his head slightly and said, "Everyone loves the amazing Molly Floyd and her beautiful imagination."

"Bobby," she moaned softly, taking the card from his hand and wrapping her arms around him. "Tell me more about how amazing I am."

He laughed and whispered, "You threw me the equivalent of a kids' ninth birthday party, just because you could. My dad participated in the pie eating contest. My mom learned how to line dance. Bradley almost popped a vein in his forehead. It was wonderful."

She sighed in contentment. "In four more years when you turn ten, we'll be in a bigger house, and we can host your party there. But we'll have to wait and see if you're still into cowboys or if your interests change, Kiddo. Now will you please open your present from me? And put on your cowboy hat? I've always wanted to suck a real cowboy's cock."

Bob grinned. "Molly, you suck my cock when I'm wearing my cowboy hat all the time."

"But you've never had assless chaps before."

Bob let out a strangled sound, and when he opened the box that was wrapped in cowboy paper, there were in fact assless chaps inside. "Please, please, please put them on," Molly moaned. "God, I feel like it's my birthday."

As soon as she started whining, he always gave her what she wanted. It was impossible not to. Five minutes later, Bob was standing in the middle of the bedroom wearing the chaps, his birthday shirt, and his old cowboy hat. Molly was panting and biting her knuckle, already obviously raring to go down on him, which just made him harder.

But she took a step toward him and then stopped, a devilish smirk on his face. "Now wait. I'm having a bit of a moral dilemma with you in that shirt. How old are you again?"

"I'm thirty-six," he replied blandly. 

"You sure about that, Cowboy Bob?"

"Molly! I'm thirty-six!"

"Okay, okay. Just checking," she said, reaching for the bottom of his shirt. "But let's just remove this anyway."

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

I had a blast revisiting these two! I'm so deeply in love with Molly. I hope you enjoyed Bob's birthday celebration. Thanks for reading! And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

What a Lovely Mess

Pairing: Billy Washington x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, allusions to smut. Word count: ~1k

Summary: Billy's girlfriend encourages him to explore a more confident side of himself while decorating the Christmas tree.

Author's note: Day six of Smuffmas - tinsel and talking dirty. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

“Let’s get a real tree this year!”

They were words she regretted ever uttering. Getting it strapped to the roof of Billy’s beaten up, old Vauxhall Cavalier and then driving it back had been the easy bit. But then they’d arrived home, and maneuvering the tree up the stairwell of the block of flats had proven rather more difficult.

Why don’t we live on the fucking ground floor, why doesn’t this poxy building have a lift – all were thoughts that passed angrily through her mind as her and Billy struggled to pivot the large Chrisrmas tree between the pair of them around the corners of each floor. The height difference between them made it no easier – he towered over her by at least a foot, meaning they weren’t able to carry the cumbersome load level. Billy had stumbled back at one point, sending pine needles scattering over the stairs as the branches had brushed against the wall.

“Jesus, Billy!” she snapped, struggling to right the giant fir as they’d continued upwards.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he huffed back, his brow furrowed and sweaty with exertion.

“Just be careful, okay?” she said moodily, as they’d begun their ascent of the final flight of stairs.

“Do you think I’m going out of my way not to be?” Billy snarked. “Tell you what, let’s just assume that going forward I’m always being careful, unless explicitly told otherwise.”

Moody prick.

She scowled, falling silent as they leaned the tree against the wall so that Billy could fish the keys from his pocket and open the door. The warmth of the central heating that enveloped her as soon as they were inside soured her mood further – she was already clammy from their ordeal on the stairs and was now being smothered by further heat that made her coat stick to her skin with perspiration. She was desperate to peel it off, but they still had to get the tree situated in the living room.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Billy groaned, seeing what it looked like, once they had it positioned in the corner.

It was too tall for the flat – the top of it bent against the ceiling at a right angle.

“Didn’t you measure it?” she asked exasperatedly, struggling out of her coat and letting it drop onto the sofa.

“Did you see me get out a tape measure at the tree yard?” he sniped, brushing the sweat dampened strands of sandy coloured hair from his forehead in an agitated gesture. “I thought all Christmas trees were just house sized.”

She sighed, biting back the urge to tell him what a stupid thing that was to say. “We’ll just have to chop a bit off.”

“Yeah, I think you’re probably right,” he admitted, staring up at it, “if we lop that bit at the top off, it should be fine.”

“You can’t do that!” she protested, “that will ruin the shape of the tree, and then where we will put the star? Take a bit off the trunk at the bottom.”

“I haven’t got anything that could cut through that,” he told her, turning his attention from the tree to her.

“Well, what were you gonna use to cut the top?”

“You know…scissors,” he said, making a snipping motion in the air with his forefingers.

The suggestion and the gesture had caused an involuntary burst of laughter to erupt from her, the sound immediately dissipating the tension that had built between them from the effort of getting the tree into the flat in the first place. He grinned, blue eyes sparkling as he looked at her.

“You know what, let’s leave it as it is,” she said with a smile, “it looks shit, but I don’t think it’d be our tree if it didn’t.

“Merry shitmas then, babe!” he said with a dopey smile. “Drink?”

A few moments later, the two of them sat on the floor of the living room – her with her legs crossed, Billy with his stretched out in front of him – as they pawed through a battered cardboard box of old Christmas decorations. Threadbare tinsel that had seen better days, chipped baubles and string lights that all seemed to have bulbs missing made up the selection of items that they would use to decorate the monstrosity that crowded their living room.

“I’m sorry for getting stroppy with you earlier,” she said softly, before taking a sip of red wine and savouring the subtle burn at the back of her throat.

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, as his thumbs rubbed idly at the condensation on his bottle of Stella. His eyes lifted to meet hers, taking on a playful look as he continued, “you’ll have to watch yourself though, or you’ll end up on the naughty list.”

“Oh yeah?” she giggled. “You gonna spank me?”

Billy’s cheeks flushed pink and he lowered his gaze, taking a sudden keen interest in the label on his beer bottle, but she wasn’t going to let him retreat so easily.

“Oi,” she chided, setting her wine glass and moving to straddle his lap. She draped a length of purple tinsel around the back of his neck, tugging him closer. “Don’t go shy on me.”

“I’m not,” he said, putting his beer bottle down on the carpet and bringing his hands to rest upon her hips, “I just feel stupid talking like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed with me, Billy,” she urged, “talk dirty to me. I want you to, I like it.”

His face twisted with incredulity, his brow furrowing as he scoffed. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Well,” she began, her voice turning sultry, “you could tell me what you want to do to me, or what you want me to do to you, how I make you feel. There aren’t rules, just say what comes naturally.”

“You go first then,” he insisted, giving her hips a gentle squeeze.

She nodded, biting her lip as she considered what to say. “You make me so wet,” she purred, grinding slightly in his lap to emphasise her point.

Billy’s lips parted, a heavy exhale escaping him. His eyes drifted downwards in momentary hesitation, before lifting back to her face. “I wanna taste it,” he whispered.

“Yeah? You wanna make me feel good with your mouth?” she asked, continuing the lazy roll of her hips against his, using her grip on the tinsel around his neck as leverage. Her core throbbed at the feeling of his growing hardness rubbing against her through the fabric of his jogging bottoms.

“Mmm, yeah,” he breathed, growing more confident, gripping her firmly as he guided her movements. “Wanna tear those knickers off you and have you sit on my face, make you come.”

“Fucking hell, Billy,” she almost moaned, the filthiness of his words taking her by surprise, causing the aching desire within her to grow stronger. “Love how your tongue feels on my clit, you always make me come so hard.”

He groaned, his face pressing into the crook of her neck as he raised a hand to palm roughly at her breast through her t-shirt, making her gasp.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” she urged, pulling back slightly, forcing him to look at her once more.

“I…I want you to ride me,” he stuttered breathlessly as his hand snaked from her breast back to her hip, urging her movements against his clothed erection.

“You want to be inside of me?” she smiled coyly, stroking her fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he said, halting his movements.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, cocking her head.

“I’m done dirty talking,” he told her, sliding the tinsel from around his neck and dropping it onto the carpet.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” he replied, sliding his hands to her rear and giving it a firm squeeze. “Bed. Now.”

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[moodymisty]

(really sorry if this is sent more than once, firefox crashed right when I hit Ask so im re-sending it just in case)

Local Konrad apologist here to request a continuation to your 'Sevatar hunting you' oneshot you posted awhile back. sfw or nsfw, either is fine

(if you dont want to continue that plotline, np!! Just literally any Sev content would be hype as fuck, not gonna lie. love that man sm)

and i hope you and your pidges have a wonderful day❤

Soft continuation of this request

Author's note: Hell yeah I’ll continue that one! I love Sevatar <3 I hope this is ok! It didn’t quite flow the way I like but I don’t want to hold it up forever

Relationships: Sevatar/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lewd kind of, Violence and gore warning, Pet play technically? Sev calls you his little pet, Dubcon, Biting

When Sevatar had captured his prey, he made sure not to let it go. He dragged you back between his teeth to his den aboard the Nightfall, and you haven’t seen a Salamander since.

Sevatar has done much work in making sure your base needs are tended to- such as food and water to keep you healthy and soft - while on the Nightfall.

You are most likely the most well kept baseline aboard the ship, and many others refer to you snidely, jokingly, as Sevatar’s prized little pet.

He does a lot of prowling around to keep other Night Lords away from his catch, predator proofing his quarters.

While most Night Lords would hesitate to disobey him, or tread in quarters not their own or of their stature, Sevatar knows that his little pet is worth the risk.

You’re soft, clean and fragile, and unlike many of the serfs aboard who know how to hide and not be interesting enough to toy with, you whimper and cry and beg enough to make an Astartes mouth wet with drool and his hearts pump faster.

You don’t do as much anymore- With the Salamanders long gone that wound has faded, and you know despite his demeanor, Sevatar doesn’t break his toys. He seems to take quite good care of them actually, and despite the wounds he leaves in your body, the food he gets for you and the quarters you live in is almost comparable to life with the Salamanders.

Sevatar is returning to his quarters, looking downward at his knife when he feels as if something is off. He puts his knife back in its sheath, turning the corner to finish his trip to his quarters.

His body goes rigid when he notices the door is open, locks busted and completely torn apart. Only one glance inside confirms you’re gone. Your scent is fresh still however- this only just happened.

Sevatar runs down the halls, slamming into the shoulders of other marines who quickly try to give way to him, and halfway through the hall a singular Night Lord yells:

“If you’re looking for your pet, the idiot is taking her towards the barracks.”

He also hears the same man mumble about how he warned the thief, and that he wants to see his how Sevatar will display his guts for being a blackhand.

He catches up with the thief in the halls, spotting him carrying you with a hand clamped over your mouth. The other arm is around your waist, legs dangling and kicking uselessly.

Sevatar approaches him from behind and pulls out his knife and closes the distance lightning quick, slicing the wrist around your mouth so he doesn't crush your head. The Night Lord instinctively drops you- Sevatar hears your yelp as you crumble to the metal floor and presumably twist something - trying to defend himself first and foremost. Sevatar had the advantage however both in surprise and sheer strength, and within moments manages to get the slightly smaller Night Lord on the ground.

You can only watch as the two throw punches and tear at each other, eyes wide.

You hear the crunch as Sevatar’s knife drives through ceramite armor, reaching the black armoring suit underneath. The younger Night Lord attempts to clamp onto Sevatar's body but his one wrist is mangled and won't listen, while the other attempts to grab his neck in a desperate last ditch effort.

The first stab managed to crack ceramite armor like the outer shell of a bug, it takes a second blow for him to stab through his black carapace, and reach his organs. The marine lets out a shout as Sevatar's gauntlet gets covered in bright red blood, and you can only watch in a frozen stare as he mangles the younger night lord's body into a crushed, bloody mess.

Sevatar finishes by standing up, and grinding his head into the floor with his boot, splattering blood all over the floor.

A few Night Lords pass by, rolling their eyes at the mess and speaking along the lines that he had it coming, for disobeying Sevatar.

One also mentions that Sevatar wasted a meal by crushing the Astartes like that, and even just the implications of him feasting on the man’s brain matter has bile rising in your throat.

Blood is still on your face from his initial attack, alongside whatever splattered your way as you laid on the floor and watch him crush your kidnapper. Sevatar leans closer, and he laughs when he smears it across your face with his gauntlet.

He’s examining you for any damage, and other than a sprained wrist from when the Night Lord dropped you to the floor, you’re unharmed.

“Messy.”

You say nothing, but instead lean forward and wrap your arms tightly around his neck. Sevatar noticeably stiffens.

He supposes in your mind he is your savior. The Night Lord who had broken into his quarters more than likely wanted to toy with you for a bit until you broke, then throwing you into the garbage.

It’s good to know that you’re attached to him. That you know he is your best option, and that you won’t consider trying to sneak off. While he loves it when you cry, when you beg him to stop, there’s also a part of him that loves that you want him. How lately, some of your begging has turned into cute little whimpers.

Picking you up off the ground to return to his quarters you latch to him like he’s going to drop you as well, arms around his neck.

He likes the feeling.

Perhaps some of the other Night Lords would prefer it if you ran, if you hated him, but Sevatar wants you to want him. He wants to feel that rush.

He hasn't had his armor off in about it a week, but they're safe enough in Imperium space; He can take it off for a bit.

He won't let you out of his sight while he does so however, setting you down right in front of the armoring platform as he has the serfs and mechanical arms take away piece after piece of ceramite. It can sometimes take almost a half hour to armor up a marine, removing the pieces is significantly shorter. He leaves his black armoring suit on to take off in his quarters, and pushes you back there like he’s herding an animal.

He looks briefly and notices how that Night Lord broken open the lock; He'll remember that.

He watches you quickly scurry inside of his quarters, his den, sitting on the bed and trying to pick at the astartes blood coagulating on your face. You look so small on the massive bed, and the way you curl your legs up exaggerates the difference.

"I was asleep when he broke in... I didn't have time to hide or find you."

Sevatar laughs at the idea of you being able to hide or run from an astartes.

"Just shows that I need to keep a closer eye on you. You make a lot of trouble for me."

The way you look at him is concerned. You think he's considering getting rid of you. That you cause too much trouble for him. That couldn't be less of the case. He knew what he was getting into when he stole from the Salamanders.

Walking closer he stands and towers over you, seeing the hesitation and fear in your eyes when his hand comes close to your face. Instead of your neck however, it wraps around your jaw, and he forces your mouth to open with his thumb.

"But you're a good little pet, aren’t you.”

He loves the way your mouth wraps around his thumb- warm, wet, like the inside of a wound. Your hands rise up to wrap around his wrist, while he pushes you down laying on the bed.

“I should get you one of those tattoos.”

Sevatar removes his thumb from your mouth and grips your hair, pulling your neck to the side and exposing you vein. He can see your heartbeat through your skin, along with the myriad of old scars and healing bites he’s left there.

It’s his favorite part of you; Nothing else is like the feeling of your life and soul between his teeth.

He drags his teeth down your neck and feels the way your hands clamber at his shoulders, until he finds a spot he likes and sinks his teeth in.

Your hands slap at his shoulders and you whimper, gasping in pain as his dull teeth pierce your skin. His tongue is coated in that tangy, iron taste, the salt of your skin mixing. You taste delicious- the feeling of your soft flesh underneath his hands and in his mouth makes his cock throb.

A part of him imagines biting down harder, drawing more blood and ripping your skin. The crunch of vein and bone. But he doesn’t want to damage you that much, and risk loosing his catch.

“W-what tattoo?”

You breathlessly speak. Sevatar knows some of the other- usually older - Night Lords have been tattooing their favorite serfs; Staking a claim on them.

He doesn’t need to stake claim on what everyone already knows is his, but the idea of his name, or his variation of the Night Lords symbol adorning your delicate skin rouses a part of him.

He bites again, and you take a sharp inhale- heels digging into the bed. Your thighs are forcibly spread apart to make room for his massive body, weight holding you down. He feels your heartbeat in his mouth, your very life is so close.

“You’ll see.”

[bunnyscryptarchived]

how rafe and his weird girl met

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

"when are they going to tear that house down already?" rose grumbled, face full of disgust

"someone bought it." rafes head snaps up the second those words leave his father’s mouth.

the house on the end of figure eight. littered with cobwebs, cracked windows and deteriorating walls. shingles torn apart from previous storms. it was desolate. eerie. depressing. ugly.

who the hell would want to buy it?

rafe was hanging with topper and kelce. topper yapping on about god knows what. rafe wasn’t paying him any attention, just typing away on his phone.

“looks like halloween came early this year” topper nudges rafe with his elbow, nodding his head fir rafe to look ahead when he turns to him with a scowl.

rafe did a double take when he saw you. you certainly did not fit in here with your sharp claw nails painted red, black corset on top of a short black lace dress with gloves to match. he felt two things looking at you —curiosity and anger cause why the hell are you dressed like that.. all that black? in this heat?? he felt hot and overstimulated just looking at you. he's never seen anyone dress the way you do and you were definitely going to be the talk of the town. hell— you already are.

"i hear shes the one living in that decrepit old house" kelce speaks up.

"the one on the end of figure 8? that shit gives me the creeps" toppers face cringes at the thought of it. "yep. her and her family just moved in. they're weird man"

rafe stayed tight lipped and hummed. not taking his eyes off you for a second. you meet his gaze thru red sunglasses, giving him a once over before walking away, practically gliding. there was something strange about you. something….off. but you carried yourself with such confidence and it peeked his interest. he just had to get to know you.

he did it from a distance at first. asking around about you. only to get the same annoying answers. she's weird. she doesn't talk. her family is a bunch of freaks. they're creepy . he was getting no where so he decided to take a trip to your place, not that he really wanted to, you just rarely left the house so where the hell else is supposed to see you.

knocking on your front door. he's stunned when an older woman opens the door— like you dressed in all black, a gown that covers her feet. “hello. may i help you?” her voice is smooth. airy. he asks for you, honest in his intentions. always the smooth talker when he wants to be. she eyes him before telling him your name and points to the back.

that’s where he finds you. in the backyard cemetery— reading under a tree. “hi there.” you peek up at the sound of his voice, squinting. “whatcha reading about?”

“amputation” your voice is small but silvery. he likes it. despite the weirdness that just came out of your mouth. he wasn’t expecting that.

“wha-“ he sniffs. “is.. is that like for school or something?”

“no. just for fun.” theres a tiny smirk on your face. one would almost miss it if his eyes weren’t solely focused on you.

oh he’s hooked.

from then on he hasn’t left you alone, it’s almost borderline stalkerish. when you two start dating, it’s intense. you’re intense and he doesn’t know how to handle you at all. you match his energy which pisses him off but he’s obsessed with you and word spread fast. as if you weren’t already talk of the town, its dialed up by 11 now. the kook prince and the town freak. everybody talked. most things negative— not in earshot of you or rafe tho. no one wants to deal with rafes wrath if he heard them talking smack about you. you were untouchable. not that you needed rafes status to protect you. you had a bite of your own and weren’t afraid to fight back either.

you’re just as insane as he is. if not more.

 ☆*:.｡.o🕸o.｡.:* ☆

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Vampire girlfriend

Summary: You're a vampire, you're in the avengers compound as a villain prisoner, luckily you have someone to keep you company, Wanda is completely infatuated by you and you just can't deny her, especially her delicious blood

Words: 1,525

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, blood drinking, Wanda being protective, Nat being a bit of a bitch tbh, innuendos, mention of smut lmk if I missed anything

A/N: I wrote this in half an hour because why not? I guess

A/N: This Wanda is age of ultra Wanda so like emo dirtbag Wanda with slight anger issues

*****************************************************************

"Y/n? Where are you?" Wanda snuck into your room after hours so no one could see, with you being a prisoner and all Tony wasn't keen on Wanda coming to see you, but that didn't stop the witch

"Why are the lights off?"

A pair of hands wound themselves around her body from behind and pulled her back into them "hey gorgeous girl, did you sneak away to come and see me again?" Your voice was low and close to her ear giving it a nip that surprised her

"I missed you" she whispered letting herself relax into your arms "I know honey I know, a shame Tony was being a dick and wouldn't let you see me today, I wore something I wanted you to see" Wanda spun around in your hold kissing you softly not wanting to do more since the guards were doing their rounds and you were both sure they wouldn't want to hear any noises coming from down here

"What did you wear?" You were in your pyjamas now so she was sure you weren't talking about them, but she thought you looked sexy in anything so it didn't matter.

"Something red, something skimpy, something that shows off the marks you left on my thighs when I pounded so hard into you and you needed something to hold onto"

Wanda's hands gripped your shoulders, there was a small light that showed your face holding a smirk and your eyes on her neck "can I have a drink?" You asked and Wanda nodded "please, my neck has been tingling all day for you"

You laughed "awh honey don't worry I'll take care of your tingles" you lent down to her neck kissing and licking the two bites marks already there "don't tease" she breathed out and you chuckled "I'll tease you as much as I want detka, you have no power over me here"

Without another word your fangs pierced her skin sucking the sweet sweet blood from her neck feeling it go down smooth down your throat

"Fuck, hold on Y/n too much" Wanda weakly tried pushing you away but you growled holding her tighter refusing to let go, when you did finally stop Wanda was nearly limp in your hold "sorry baby I got carried away" you whispered leading her to the bed and laying her down grabbing the covers to warm her cold back up

"C-cold" she groaned and you kissed her forehead "rest princess, thank you for letting me drink from you"

She hummed in response pulling the blanket close to her body "its kay"

You lay down with her pulling her close kissing her shoulder "ty moya navsegda krasivaya devushka"

************************************************************

"......You went to see her again didn't you?" The team were in a meeting the next morning but Wanda wasn't paying attention, not really, she just kept thinking of when she'd go and see you again

"Don't start Nat, you don't know her like I do" she snapped back at the redhead in a whisper "Wanda I'm just concerned, she's a dangerous vampire and a known manipulator, she could be in your mind"

Wanda couldn't help but let out a laugh earning a glare from Steve to which she apologised looking back at Nat "I'm a powerful witch Nat, if anything I'm in her mind and her mind is a wonderful, erotic place"

Nat dropped it and both women carried on with the meeting but of course Wanda wasn't listening, she was just so excited to go back to you

"....and the vampire will accompany us but we need a volunteer to escort her" Wanda was too late listening when she realised what Steve said, she put her hand up but another shot up first, Nat, why did she want to take you on the mission?

"Thank you Nat for volunteering, here's hoping it all goes well, you can go down after the meeting to tell her about the mission"

**************************************************************

You had your eyes closed enjoying the silence until your door slammed open jumping you awake seeing Wanda storm in looking angry, you did like an angry Wanda "I hate her so much!"

She sat down on the bed closing her eyes and trying to calm down, you were very intrigued "are you okay moya krasavitsa?"

She sat up suddenly and straddled you kissing you hard, not that you were complaining at all, every time she was angry you reaped the rewards and it was always amazing

The door opened and your least favourite person interrupted you "Natalia, if you interrupt us again I'll tear you limb from limb and enjoy every fucking second of it" you growled out letting Wanda get up from your lap aiming at Nat

"Why did you accept it?"

Oh? Was she mad at her best friend? Interesting

Nat crossed her arms "Wanda you can't at this point be trusted to take Y/n on a mission while you're being intimate with her"

You sat up really interested in the conversation for once "I'm going on a mission? Great! I need to get out of this room"

"We're going back to where we found you, your friends are getting taken in and you need to help us get them"

You rolled your eyes "you know they've moved now right? you guys are so stupid" your hand found Wanda's bringing her back close to you kissing her neck to calm her down "so why aren't you escorting me on this avenger suicide mission my love?"

Wanda let out a sigh enjoying the feeling of your lips "because Nat put her hand up first" you chuckled "does Nat think she can handle me? I don't think she can, can she honey?"

The assassin scoffed "you're not scary Y/n, we caught you pretty easily"

You looked up from Wanda's neck staring at Nat "did you? Or did I want to be caught so I could spend time with the hottest witch I've ever seen in my life and death?" You nuzzled Wanda's neck making her giggle and pull you into a hug "you're so fucking cute princess, you should move into my room, I could have you whenever I wanted then"

Wanda's eyes lit up "yes! I really want that, Vision keeps trying to get my attention and I just want to stay here with you"

You bristled at the name of Vision, that stupid robot better stay away from your girl "I'll crush his robot parts if he touches you"

Nat huffed breaking the weird conversation you two were having "well this is lovely but Wanda isn't staying in this room, I don't want to come in one morning and see her throat ripped out because you're an animal-

You were across the room in seconds wrapping your hand around Nat's throat pressing her against the wall "don't you fucking dare call me an animal!"

Nat laughed "did I hit a nerve? You're the worst type of animal and I can't wait until I put a bullet in your head"

You laughed "bullets don't hurt me Nat you know that"

"I have a special bullet for you" she winked and your smile dropped

You let her neck go stepping back "you're kidding"

She shook her head "you start anything with me and I won't hesitate to shoot you with it"

You were both locked in an intense eye contact until Wanda stepped in "Nat can you just let me have 5 minutes before you do the stupid briefing?"

Nat agreed leaving you and her alone "what bullet is she talking about babe?" Her arms wrapped around your midsection kissing your cheek to bring you back to her "Y/n?"

You shook your head looking down at Wanda and smiling "don't worry about anything Wands, she wouldn't dare use a silver bullet on me"

Wanda was confused "a silver bullet? I thought they were just for werewolves?"

Shaking your head you kissed her softly "so cute, no they can be used for every supernatural creature and person, but she won't use it, she'll have to deal with you then won't she?"

Wanda nodded her head "yeah! But she won't hurt you baby, I won't let anyone hurt you"

"Thank you my love, are you staying again tonight?"

Wanda looked down unsure of her answer "I don't know, Tony might get suspicious"

you pouted "but I get lonely in here Wanda and I really enjoyed having you here last night, I had a delicious midnight snack, come on just stay here, you can go early in the morning before anyone wakes up"

You knew it didn't take much convincing to make Wanda stay, she was so devoted to you "what do you say?"

Wanda nodded "okay"

"That's a good girl, now go and get your sleepwear while I listen to the angry assassin for a few minutes" you kissed her quick and spun her around to the door giving her ass a smack

"Hey! Baby you said you wouldn't do that suddenly"

You shrugged "I can't help it your ass is just so perfect"

Wanda left and Nat walked in right after slamming the door, you didn't react instead just sitting on your bed watching her

"Shall we begin Natty?"

[vendetta-ari]

Romeo, Juliet, and a blonde Romeo.

Patrick Zweig x Fem!Reader x Art Donaldson (mentions of sex but no written smut, implied relationship with Art Donaldson, implications of At Donaldson ed (the food kind) cheating?,Reader is a lil bitch, not proofread)

"Hey, i made you breakfast..!" Art chirped as you sat up from your fluffy bed, ever the morning person, the blonde was already dressed and awake- holding a gross looking green smoothie in his hands. somehow, this grown man still has yet to understand what casual means. whatever, free food.

Thanks again for making breakfast," you tap your foot rhythmically against the tile, watching Art pick at his own pancakes and not eat them. "you gonna eat..?"

"not hungry." he quickly bites back, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes with a soft smile. you pause, and the rythem your leg was bouncing to halts as you question him—"why would you make food if you weren't hungry?" one arched brow later and the blonde is chuckling nervously, cleaning up your empty plate and shrugging frantically "yknow, i. actually don't know- I guess i just wanted to make you something but I didn't want it to be awkward so-"

"Art?"

"yeah?"

"stop acting like my boyfriend."

he stammers a quick apology, before making up some excuse about needing to go to practice. (he doesn't, and you know that too, you aren't dumb.) and just like that, the blonde is gone. you'd feel bad, but this isn't the first time you had to remind him that your relationship is purely just friends (with amazing benefits) who knew pathetic men could have such good dick? after cleaning up the rest of the kitchen you go to your room to change, only to hear a familiar pattern of knocks.

tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap.

annoying bastard.

Patrick Zweig.

you open the window anyway. you're a woman of weak morals.

"miss me, baby?" he purrs.

you debate pushing him out the window, but the drop isn't very far.

after rolling your eyes and pulling him through the window, you meet his lips for a kiss. the kind where it's not light or tender and very much sloppy, with tillted heads and kitten licks.

so yeah, maybe you were playing with Patrick and Art. but could you really be blamed?

"hey, what's that?-" Patrick's stupid mouth isn't on your lips, but it's enough to pull you out if the moment, dazed and ticked.

"what's what?" you look around, trying to gage where his eyes have landed now.

Fuck.

Art left his Stanford hat. bright red, almost like a stop sign.

braindead blonde, he's gonna ruin your shot at getting laid (again) today.

"it's nothin, my uh..brother came over today. left his hat."

"am I supposed to belive that?"

God you could pull your hair out right now, you kick the hat under your bed. "can we get back to it?" you snarl, sitting on the bed and pulling him to stand between your legs.

he hasn't budged yet. it's been 5 minutes and he won't even kiss you, the cap is in his hands and he's inspecting it like some sort of fuckin' detective.

"im not fucking you if you don't tell me who's this actually is."

why does that even matter? since when has Patrick ever been monogamous? just last week he asked for a three way between you and this secret somone- the way he described the man though, sounded like he was in love.

"yknow, he's not too skinny, he's fir and built perfectly. white, blonde, he's got those two colored eyes...what's that called again? heterophobia?"

"Patrick i dont care, I'm not trying to get an STD."

"no he's safe, I swear!"

"i said no already!"

Patrick sniffs the hat, like the weirdo he is. you swear his pupils dialate, like a cat.

"what?" you murmur, almost defensively. you didn't mean for it to sound like that- but oh well.

"nothing. I'm going home."

"what? hey!? what about me-"

Art's stupid little hat gets thrown at your face, you sputter and go to chase after Patrick, but he's already hopped out of your window.

well. that's one less good lay.

atleast you've still got Art?

you quickly text him that he left his hat at your place, you make it sound a little flirty too. you didn't just get all worked up for nothing.

Patrick hadn't even stepping foot through the door and Art is already trying to leave.

"look I know we made plans man- but I gotta go do something important!"

"Important like what? whats more important than hanging out with me, am I that insignificant to you?!"

"no- it's not like that, stop being fucking dramatic!"

"just tell me what it is that's soooo important!"

"it's a girl, okay?! I left something at her dorm."

"you're dating—?"

"n-no..not exactly. it's complicated."

manwhore. that's what patrick wants to say. but he relents and let's his best friend get away. as much as he'd love to dig his claws into Art and never let go, no one can resist those eyes.

"fine. go then, just leave, not like I care." He's talking to the air at this point, because Art's already flown off like a puppy hearing a clicker. but hey, maybe Patrick's just being dramatic. he's sure to find some hot chick on campus- right?

maybe Patrick is an idiot. maybe he's a fool for thinking somone as gorgeous as you wouldn't sleep around. but fuck, for once he wanted domone all to himself.

yet here he stands, in Art's doorstep, watching him hold the red Stanford cap he just saw in your house. he isn't overthinking it. underthinking it, if anything. he should really see if he's got an STD.

"so..you're saying she's fucking both of us?" Art finally breaks the silence. looking dejected after Patrick's convoluted explanation when he came back from your dorm.

"dunno. I guess so." Patrick breaks eye contact. he really can't stand to look at his best friend right now. why can't he have anything to himself? why does he always have to share? it's not fair.

He feels like he's back in the tennis academy. sharing his very being with Donaldson. everything he every owned or would own, would be shared. he didn't mind back then, but with a girl like you? call him selfish for wanting you all alone. just his luck.

he needs to prove he's better. for his own fucking sanity.

To be continued.

-xoxo, Ari

[hyukasmiles]

—Soobin—

Description: surprising Binnie + how much he misses you after a tour

Fem reader

Warnings: NSFW// pet names (honey + hun)// descriptions of getting pierced (nipples)// briefest mention of nudes// one hickey// nipple play// unprotected sex// unrealistic position i guess// multiple orgasms// blah blah blah yk the drill// NOT PROOFREAD

—-

Getting your nipples pierced to surprise Binnie.

“It’s gonna be six months until we see each other again.” Soobin pouts, shoving his face in your tits. “I’m gonna miss my perfect girl and her perfect tits.”

“It’ll fly by like last time.” You giggle, petting his hair.

“Soobin.” Yeonjun yells from outside your shared apartment. “It’s time to go!”

“Bye honey.” Soobin looks like he’s being sent off to war, tears in his eyes as he kisses you goodbye. “I love you.”

“Don’t be a baby, Bin, I’ll be here when you get back, I love you.”

—

Your appointment is later that day, a girl with tattoos going up her whole body grinning as she sets up her station. “Hell of a first piercing.” She laughs, handing you the consent form. You’re so shaky you can barely scribble your signature. “It’s gonna hurt.” She mumbles snorting when you jump at the marker against your skin. “This look good?”

“I think so?” You look at your reflection in the mirror, trying to imagine two silver balls in place of the purple sharpie. “Yeah, looks great.”

“Ok.” She lays you back down. “On the count of three, one, two, th-“ You think you black out, a ringing in your ears as she smiles down at you. “Ready for number two?”

“Mhm..” You whine, just bite the bullet, it can’t be as bad as the fir- “Fuck, fuck me.” You groan, biting at your hand.

“Just one more second to get the jewelry in.” The piecer pats your shoulder as tears fall down your cheeks. “You’re braver than me.” She laughs as you struggle to sit up. “Look, it’s hot.” You don’t know what you’re expecting… blood? redness? any sign of the pain you’re still experiencing. No, just two little pieces of silver. “Wanna put your shirt back on?”

“Uh, sure.” You gasp at the shocks of pain as your shirt grazes against your sensitive new piercings. “You think they’ll be healed in six months?”

“Sure thing, just follow your care instructions, call me if you think anything is off.”

—

You spend the next six months diligently cleaning your piercings and desperately avoiding Soobin and his calls. He’s a perv to his core, calling you every night and begging to see your “pretty tits.” You get so antsy about ruining the surprise you start ignoring his calls all together and sending him old pictures when he asks for one.

So when he gets home Soobin is miffed, huffing and puffing on the car ride to your apartment, throwing open your front door. It all melts away when you’re waiting for him in a pretty little dress and his favorite meal on the table for him but he doesn’t let you know, shrugging you off and ignoring your questions about the tour.

“I’ll run you a bath..” You pout but as soon as you get up his hands are on you.

“I was just playing.” Soobin mumbles, grabbing onto your boobs. “Just upset you tried to keep my favorite things away from me.”

“It’s because I have a surprise.” You whine as your fiance slips his hands under your dress, pulling the fabric down under your boobs. His fingers pause, mind racing as he lightly traces your nipple.

“Somethins’ new.” Soobin slurs, kissing your shoulder. “Turn around for me baby.” His eyes widen when you do, your boobs right in face- two silver balls framing each pretty nipple. “Oh!”

“They’re still sensitive.” You mumble, grabbing onto his shoulder. “But- do you like them?”

Soobin reaches up and rolls one in between his long fingers, smiling up at you when you cry out. “Perfect.” He spreads your tits apart and kisses the skin in between them, “Didn't know your tits could get better, always surprising me.” He bites into the flesh of your boob and sucks until he’s satisfied, a dark purple mark blooming where his mouth was. “Lemme know how this feels.”

Your legs shake when Soobin pulls your nipple in your mouth, the piercings making the sensation against your already sensitive skin seem almost unbearable. “It’s too much- binnie!” You whine pushing on his shoulders. “They’re- They’re-“ You cry when he pinches the other one “Sens-“ You’re so shaky you can barely keep yourself upright, pulling on Soobins hair to try and pull him off of you.

You’re granted a brief pause when Soobin pulls away to switch the one in his mouth. “I wanna see if you can cum just from this.” He laughs, biting into your sensitive flesh.

Soobin continues his assault, sucking on and biting at your poor nipples until you’re crying from the stimulation, and you’re so close- your neglected cunt dripping as he keeps you teetering on the edge of an orgasm. “Please- Soobin- it’s too much- too much.” You can barely get it out- you just need one more push.

“Hurry up and cum, honey, so I can fuck you like you want.” Soobin drops one of his hands, digging the pad of his middle and ring fingers into your clit. It’s enough to push you over, your voice ringing out as you cum all over his fingers. Your release drips down your legs as you fall against Soobin’s chest, struggling to catch your breath.

Your fiance doesn’t give you any time to recuperate, pushing you against the back of your couch. “I missed your pretty cunt.” He smiles, pulling one of your legs upwards, pressing it against the couch, your other foot barely able to touch the ground. “Gonna fuck you until you can’t breathe.” He groans, finally taking his dick out from his sweats.

It won’t take long. You still haven’t calmed down from your first orgasm and Soobin’s dick feels so good filling you inch by inch you almost cum when he bottoms out. It’s been so long- that’s what you tell yourself- it’s been too long of course you’re this sensitive. “It’s so big.” You drool, rolling your hips against Soobin to try and get off.

“Poor pussy must’ve missed me too.” He pushes your hip into the furniture, using it as leverage to fuck into you as deep as he can. “She’s swallowing me whole.”

Soobin uses his thumb to draw circles against your clit and starts mouthing at your tits again, the stimulation too much after your first orgasm. “I’m- I’m gonna cum!” You squeal. “Cum- Binnie- I’m cumming!”

“Go ahead, hun, cum all you want, it’s your reward for your pretty little surprise.” You can feel Soobin smile against your boob. “That’s right- cum all over me.” He groans as you clamp around his dick, your head spinning as you tumble into another orgasm. “That’s it, ‘s good right- want another one?”

“No! Too much- too much-“ Soobin doesn’t listen- he never listens- his hips slamming against yours hard enough to push your couch forward, your body slipping down the poor piece of furniture.

It doesn’t stop his torment, you don’t think anything could. Soobin’s strong arms flex as he hooks them under your knees, cradling you, barely missing a beat as he continues to fuck up into you. “Let me cum inside of you, you will right?” You nod weakly, your head lolling to the side. “Of course you will.” Soobin cums so much, filling you up to the brim and sending you crashing into a third orgasm, leaving you completely worn out in his arms. “Round two in the bath?” He laughs, kissing your temple.

[emotionoitme]

could you write about carmy having a size kink??? like before him and reader actually fuck he's obsessed w how much bigger his hands are than readers and then reader says something abt his dick being big and if might not fir and he just loses it

why am i fking frothing over this prompt i love size kink

i imagine reader as a new girlfriend, & carm invites her to family one night as they begin dating.

he’s absentmindedly tracing over her fingers as he holds her hand, hearing as she giggled to the punchline of whatever story richie was telling. carmy’s gaze travels down to her hand resting on his. he flips his palm over, their hands flat against each other, comparing the sizes. her hand seems tiny in his, the man marveling at the difference, completely checked out of the conversation. he spreads his fingers, watching hers grow smaller, catching her attention. she looks over to him, then down to their touching hands, her fingers clasping around his.

“your hands are so big,” she observes quietly, feeling as the man lets out a slow deep exhale. he felt inflated, almost, letting a small grin tease lips.

“you think so?” he asks, letting go of her hand and grabbing onto her thigh, softly rubbing the skin with his thumb. her breath slightly hitches at the contact, meeting his eyes, whispering a “yeah” in response.

he leans in to whisper in her ear, inviting her back to his apartment for the night—the breaking point—when they get there it’s all tongue and lips and teeth, pulling and grabbing each other until they can’t get closer.

he undresses the girl, hovering over her laying form, removing her shirt as if he’s unwrapping a present for himself. his hands span the skin of her hips, waist, ribs, coming to the supple curve of her breasts. she’s small under him, pupils blown with lust, closely watching his every move.

he leans back, removing his boxer briefs, freeing his cock from confinement, gleefully watching as her eyes widen. he grabs her hips, pulling her to the edge of the bed, laying the length of his erection along her stomach. she hesitantly eyes it, looking up to meet his gaze

“carm,” she whispers, “i don’t think it’s gonna fit,” a restless fluttering in her stomach.

“fuck,” he groans, a hot surge rushing through him at her words. he slaps his cock against her stomach. “you wanna try, baby?”

she eagerly nods, biting down on her lip as she feels him press his firm head against her entrance. he pushes forward with no avail, finding a strong resistance past the first inch of his tip. she lets out a breath, further spreading her legs open.

he grabs the base of his length to give it a second try, pushing forward, only finding her warmth coat his head. she lets out a whimper. he pulls out, placing a light smack on her thigh.

“ ‘m gonna have to stretch you out a little first,” he tells her with a low voice, “you’re too tight,” a small grin on his face, watching her needy facial expressions.

“hurry,” she whines, “please,” scooting forward.

he spits onto his fingers, pulling her closer.

pt 2

[widowsistersandfriends]

Don't Speak

Summary: Reader gets caught drinking underage by a cop who happens to be a familiar face. Reader pays the price in a different way... (lee!reader x ler!Gal Gadot)

Word Count: 2372

Warnings: This fic is NSFW and there is tickling, sex, cops, bondage and swearing, so if any of this bothers you please do not read. Thank you!

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

You were starring in a new movie and were currently hanging out with your co-stars. They were all older than you and loved to go out drinking. Feeling pressured to fit it and bond with them, you had gotten a fake ID to sneak into bars with them. Luckily for you, most bartenders accepted it without a second thought and you were free to drink and get wasted with your friends. 

Tonight you guys had chosen to go to a bar in one of the most popular places in Los Angeles. Many celebrities came to this bar, so it was no surprise when you saw famous actors and actresses huddled inside. 

You showed your ID to the bartender and you were served a drink. You started off with a fruity cocktail, wanting to slowly get into it before hitting the hard stuff. 

You were just about to order your third drink, when suddenly a cop burst into the bar.

You turned in surprise and saw a familiar face.

“Gal?” You asked in surprise.

“That’s officer Gadot to you, young lady,” the officer said to you.

“I’ve literally done a movie with you before! When did you become a cop?” You questioned.

“Ever since I knew about people causing trouble, like you,” Gal said flatly. 

“Well, I promise you I’m not causing any trouble,” you said, your speech slightly slurring.

“You’ve been drinking,” Gal commented.

You nodded, a smile growing on your face as you did a scan of how she looked in her uniform.

“How old were you when we filmed the movie?” Gal questioned, moving closer to you.

“Just a little 20 year old,” you answered, taking another sip of your drink.

“And how long ago did we film that?” She asked, setting your drink down.

“5 months ago?” You answered.

“So that means you’re still 20,” Gal said, swiping your fake ID before you could grab it.

“Y/N, I know you like the back of my hand. I know this isn’t your real name or ID. You’re underage drinking. You’re coming with me,” Gal growled, handcuffing you quickly.

“Wait! I can explain!” You pleaded.

“Hey, that's our friend!” your co-stars said.

“Your co-star broke the law,” Gal said matter-of-factly. With that, she guided you outside to her cop car. 

“Thanks for ruining my night,” you grumbled, attempting to pull away from her with your hands behind your back. 

She put a firm grip on your shoulder, turning you to face her.

“What was that?” Gal asked, raising her eyebrow.

“I said—Ah! Stahahap!” You giggled out, as Gal reached out to tickle your side.

“Don’t speak,” Gal demanded, putting you in the backseat of the car.

After driving for a while, you started to feel worried. The last thing you needed on your record was that you were a criminal and were sentenced to prison. However, something felt off, much different than your typical arrest of a criminal. 

“Where are you taking me?” You asked quietly.

“I said don’t speak,” Gal reminded you, reaching back to squeeze your knee rapidly.

You let out a squeal kicking and squirming as much as you could, which wasn’t much.

“Don’t make me tape your mouth shut,” she threatened, as you continued to scream with laughter. She eventually stopped tickling your knees, leaving you panting and in disbelief. There were so many things you wanted to say and so many questions to ask, but you were afraid of getting tickled again.

Right on cue, as if she were reading your mind, she began to speak. 

“I bet you have so many questions,” she said, glancing up at you in the rearview mirror with a smirk. You blushed, looking away quickly.

“I don’t bite remember?” Gal cooed, as you now felt really nervous. You had worked on a movie with her and had become really close, but now you felt as if you were meeting for the first time.

“Awww come on, don’t get shy on me now,” Gal teased, goading you to speak so she could tickle you again. 

You rolled your eyes, and looked out the window when you felt the car slow. You felt your heart beat rapidly, as the place looked like an abandoned dungeon. 

Gal opened up the backseat door, gently pulling you out. 

“Follow me you little delinquent,” Gal ordered, leading you to the creepy door. She pushed the door open. It was dark when you entered, but your eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of light. The room was wooden and bare besides a table and a chair.

“Pick one,” Gal demanded, taking your handcuffs off. You sighed in relief.

You gave her a questioning look.

“Which one do you want to suffer in first?” Gal clarified. 

You pointed at the chair.

“I was hoping you’d pick that one first,” Gal said evilly. 

“You can speak now. But just so you know, if you say something I don’t like, I’m taping your mouth,” Gal warned.

You sat in the chair, as she tied your hands together behind the chair. She also tied your feet together, so you were unable to move much. 

“I thought we were friends,” you whined, tugging at the restraints.

“Just friends?” Gal asked, tilting her head slightly and eyeing you closely. You bit your lip and looked away.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Normally when people do illegal things or crimes, they’re sent straight to jail and have to go through all these lengthy processes to get out. But like I said, you’re more than a friend, so I’m gonna give you the easy way out. I’m not putting you behind bars, and I’m not hurting you in any way,” Gal reassured you, as you felt your heart skip a beat when her accent became thick.

You nodded slowly.

“I’m just gonna punish you for drinking illegally and then you’ll be free,” Gal said, smiling and revealing a set of pearly whites that popped out in comparison to her bold red lipstick. 

She slowly walked over to you, placing her hand on your neck.

“Long time no see, friend,” Gal whispered in your ear, making you flinch as she dragged a nail on your neck. You scrunched up, holding your squeal in. 

“You like that?” She asked.

You shook your head, as she began to squeeze your neck, making you burst into giggles.

“Gahahal knohohock ihihit ohohoff,” you giggled, trying your best to avoid her hands. 

“But you’re so cute when you giggle,” Gal said, pouting slightly. She began to use her sharp nails over your shoulders, and you cursed yourself for wearing a sleeveless crop top. 

“AHAHAHA WAHAHAIT GAL STAHAHAHAP NOHOT THEHERE,” you screamed, bucking against the restraints. You twisted every which way and scrunched up, but it was no use. Your sensitive skin was at her mercy to tickle. 

“IHIHI NEHEED A BREHEHEAK!” You shouted, as she stopped tormenting your upper back and neck area. 

“Oh fuck that was horrible,” you said, out of breath.

“Oh you’ll love the next part even more,” Gal said, giving you a wink. With that, she pulled an electric toothbrush out of her pocket.

“Remember this? Your favorite?”

“NO! DON’T!” You shouted, as she stuck the toothbrush into your belly button, causing you to immediately hunch over to protect your sensitive little hole. 

“Ah ah ah, you’re not protecting shit,” Gal said, using her other hand to push your shoulder back, leaving your belly button sticking out for her to torment. 

“STAHAHAHAP PLEHEHEASE IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAD,” you cried out, continuing to buck forward, trying anything you could to escape the torture.

“Maybe you’ll think twice before breaking the law hmm?” Gal said, laughing at your current state. 

“I WIHILL JUST STAHAHAHAP,” you laughed in ticklish agony. 

She gave you a short break, pulling out some duct tape from her pocket. She taped the toothbrush to your belly button but didn’t turn it on yet. She sauntered over and sat down in your lap, causing you to get nervous. 

She didn’t say a word. All she did was smirk and reach down to tickle up and down your sides and ribs.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA FUHUUCK YOHOHOU,” you squealed out. Clearly she didn’t like what you had said, so she quickly turned the toothbrush on, while continuing to tickle your sides.

“AH STAHAHAP OKAHAHAY PLEHEHEASE,” you laughed hysterically, unable to handle all the sensations at once. 

“I bet you’re wishing that you hadn’t worn a crop top huh?” Gal teased, now moving her hands up to tickle your uppermost ribs, right below your boobs.

You gasped and sputtered, unable to react properly to the overwhelming sensation. You fell into silent laughter, as you bucked against her. She showed no mercy, continuing to scratch over your sensitive upper ribs. 

“GAH RED RED RED!” You quickly shouted, as she immediately stopped tickling you.

“You’re way more ticklish than I remembered,” Gal said, absentmindedly tracing her finger up your side.

“Please, just let me go. I’ve learned my lesson,” you pleaded.

“Let you go? We’re just getting started,” Gal remarked, as your eyes widened. 

She bent over now to tickle your bare feet. You were slumped over from exhaustion, but jolted upright as the sensation shocked your body.

“I SWEHEHEAR I WIHIHILL END YOHOHOU,” you threatened through your laughter.

“Oh yeah? How are you gonna do that when you’re all tied up like this?” Gal asked, now tickling the tops of your feet, making you screech and beg. 

“Oh I like that reaction,” Gal commented. 

“You’re being upgraded to platinum status,” Gal said, untying you from the chair and leading you over to the bed. 

“I thought you were done with me,” you complained. 

“Not quite,” Gal said, tying you eagle spread onto the bed. 

You knew at this point that folding over and letting her torture you wasn’t working. You were embarrassed at how easily she was overpowering you. You were gonna fight back.

Gal eyed you hungrily, ready to attack your exposed armpits.

“Ready?” Gal asked, flexing her fingers. 

“Tickle me Gal. Tickle me until I just can’t take it anymore,” you said smugly and confidently, grinning as you saw her blush a little. It was rare for her to get flustered, so this was a win in your book. 

“That’s what I plan on doing you brat. And because you gave me lip, I’m gonna make this hell for you,” Gal said, bringing out the baby oil.

Your eyes widened as she poured it onto her hands. Normally you would beg for her to not tickle you, but this time was different.

“Go ahead, oil me up. I’m yours for the night,” you said, throwing her a wink of your own. 

Gal narrowed her eyes, catching on to your tactics. 

“You’re gonna eat your words,” Gal said, rubbing the oil onto your armpits, making you squirm already.

“Just rubbing is enough to tickle you huh?” Gal said, as you struggled to not giggle. 

With that, she scratched away at your sensitive armpits, causing you to scream and buck against her. 

“HAHAHAHAH AHAHASSHOLE,” you shouted, as a mischievous grin grew on her face.

“Where’s that mouthy sub huh? Where’d she go?” Gal asked, drilling her thumbs in and making you scream.

You were laughing too much to say anything, and anytime you tried to talk, she would tickle you harder to cut you off. 

“I said don’t speak Y/N,” she commanded. 

She finally had mercy on your armpits after she felt you had suffered enough.

“Go tickle my feet, you little bitch. Maybe you can get me to cum,” you said, as she smirked down at you.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Are you too scared? Think you can’t get me to cum?” You asked cockily. 

“Oh you little shit,” Gal said, oiling your feet up and taking out the hairbrush.

“Oh…fuck,” you said, faltering now. 

“Oh fuck is right you little whore, ” Gal growled, as she scrubbed two hairbrushes over your slick soles. 

“AHHH AHAHAH OKAHAY IHIHITS TOO MUCH STAHAHAP,” you begged, feeling like you were being electrocuted. 

“Oh no, you put yourself in this situation. You’re gonna pay the price,” Gal said, now taking her nails over your soles, making your laughter go up a whole new octave. 

She noticed that your laughter was fading out and that it was turning into whimpering and moaning. 

“Are you close?” Gal asked smugly.

“N-nohoho,” you barely got out.

“Can I test that theory?” Gal asked, still running her nails over your feet. 

“You can try, but you won’t get anything,” you stammered out. 

“Oh really?” Gal asked, reaching over with one hand to finger you. A loud moan escaped you, as she continued to finger you harder. Boy was she right. You were close. Within another minute you were finishing and cumming hard, moaning and flopping around on the bed. Just when you thought the orgasm was over, a new one would begin and drive you crazy again. 

“GAL! You shouted, tapping the bed to show you were surrendering. 

“What was that? All that trash talk for this?” Gal teased, as you were recovering. You were too out of breath to respond.

“You lost, Y/N. Do I get my subby lee back?” Gal asked.

“I’m not your subby lee,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Do I have to find her again?” Gal asked, moving up to sit on your stomach. She leaned down to kiss you passionately, and you returned it eagerly. However, you snorted when she began to tickle your armpits again, making you squeal and giggle.

“GAHAHAL NOHOHOHO ENOHOUGH,” you squealed.

“Awww there’s the subby lee,” Gal cooed, blowing a raspberry for good measure.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Gal asked. You completely blanked, forgetting why you were even here in the first place.

“Yes,” you sighed with an eye roll.

“Will you be mine?” Gal asked sweetly.

“Is this what this was? You couldn’t have just asked me out normally?” You asked playfully.

“Hey if you want a grand person you gotta do a grand gesture,” Gal responded.

She untied you and gave you another kiss.

“Wait a minute…are you even a cop?” You asked suspiciously.

“I have the right to remain silent,” Gal said, giggling hysterically.

[thevoidscreams]

Something with Russ.

Here's the setting (pre heresy): A female serf that usually tends to the general inhabitants of the main council fortress on ultramar, now accidentally becomes a play thing for a drunken Russ. Today was a special occasion as for seven of the primarchs had gathered for an important meeting with Guilliman, afterwards, a large banquet was held with many of the Primarch's serfs seemingly all working together to satisfy their Lords. Russ, having brought his own drink, had over done it as usual and eyes one serf. She's working hard yet trying harder to tend many of the somewhat distracted patrons of the imperium. The tipsy wolf king seems to be entertained enough by her efforts, picks her up to disappear with her for the afternoon. The whole experience is completely unheard of yet exciting for the serf, however there is one thing she didn't expect from Russ, his more feral yet playful side.

Day 18

Pairing: Leman Russ x reader

Warnings: possible power imbalance, abduction (lightly), knotting, biting

Russ's tongue ran over his lips, licking away the mjord that'd been left behind after his last sip.

Such a spry little thing you were. The wolf king had seen you all day, since before the meeting even. Working. 

Haven't you heard of a break? Probably not if you were the tax man's serf.

You were pretty, maybe a bit small but for Russ. Unless he wanted an ogryn he'd have to make do with his woman being a bit smaller. Besides, little women were quicker and ran so prettily. Like little rabbits running away from the big bad wolf. The hunt was always so much fun and the reward when he caught them was so very sweet.

He downed the rest of his drink, coming to his feet and belching. It made his warriors roar with laughter and he smiled at them, showing his teeth.

You hadn’t noticed still working away, filling glasses, bringing plates, mopping spills, the works.

“My wolves. I have eaten my fill of meat with you. I have drunk my fill of Mjord with you. And I've had my fill of stories with you. Unfortunately this next appetite is not one I can satisfy with your company.” His smile broadened and he snatched you up by the waist as you tried to skitter past.

His astartes hooted and hollered, raising mugs or thudding them on tables as they laughed and egged their primarch on.

“New pups for the pack eh!?” One shouted and his brothers slapped his back.

Some of them howled, like actual wolves.

You were dumbfounded as Russ carried you off to the room that his brother had prepared for him.

He was already hot under the collar and wanted to satisfy this burning need with a woman who he found enjoyable to look at.

“Be gentle brother.” Vulkan called after him and the other primarchs looked worried.

‘Should I be worried?’ 

Was the first cohesive thought you'd had since the primarch scooped you up into his arms.

“Do not worry little rabbit. I only bite for fun.”

Well, that answered that. But your heart did beat with fear at being grabbed up by the handsome wolf king. In fact you were rather excited, having stolen glances at him all day, thinking about how nice those big arms must feel wrapped around me.

The room prepared for him had fur pelts on the bed. And a fire crackled in the fireplace, chasing off the chill of the evening.

He set you down. His eyes were drinking in every part of you.

“Disrobe.”

You sprang to obey his command.

“Eager? That's good. I've been watching you all day. I'd hate to have to go and find another rabbit to satisfy my needs.”

Your brain ran that information and you felt a sudden bit of comfort. He wouldn't have forced you? 

No he may be a wolf, but he was also a man. And an honorable one from what you knew.

His own hands began to peel away the firs covering him, revealing light armor that he pulled off as easily as cloth.

His upper body was marred with scars from many battles.

Gingerly your fingers reached for one.

He stopped your hand before you could, looking at you.

He seemed to understand without asking as soon as he followed the line of your sight.

He guided your hand to a set of three parallel scars along his chest. 

“A bear got a lucky swipe on me here.” He explained, then moved your fingers to touch another. “A sword, during a spar with my brother.” And then another. “I took an orks bolt here.”

“You have so many.”

“I am a warrior, I fight and I win. Every one of these scars is a victory, proof that I survived.”

You felt oddly jealous. Such a grand and noble life, Russ was truly something to be admired.

He began to remove his pants and I dropped my dress.

He stooped and looked at me in only my undergarments.

“I see I indeed picked well.” His hands pulled you close, resting on your hips as he knelt and pressed his lips to your tender neck.

You moaned softly as he nibbled at your skin, hard enough to leave a mark gently enough that he didn't break skin.

You felt compelled by the action, leaning forward you sank her own teeth into the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

His hands tightened on your hips and he let out a sound somewhat between a snarl and a moan.

And suddenly you were on your back underneath him.

His cock was hard and his eyes shone above you in the fire light.

His lips caressed the shell of your ear. “You'd better run, little rabbit.”

He growled.

Your body responded in your stead, shooting out from under him with speed you didn't know you possessed. Running blindingly as you darted away from him in the big room.

His bulk came barreling down on you capturing you in his massive clawed hands, you back pressed to his and your front pressed to the floor.

You expected something but it wasn't him, letting you go. You body doing its old trick of shooting off as he ran you down.

Your heart beat so fast in his chest.

He took you by the hips, grinding his cock against your wet hole through the thin fabric protecting between you.

His hands slackened, you ran.

It was a game, but it got so real as Russ shot after you again with an excited growl.

He gave you a nip on your thigh, causing you to cry out in shock and pain. He immediately reeled back and took you gently into his arms.

Looking over the mark he’d left behind. “My apologies little rabbit. I got ahead of myself. I am sorry.” He kissed the spot. It left a warm feeling in your belly as he kissed me there, even warmed then you had already been.

He continued to kiss until he got to the apex of you. His tongue lapped over the damp spot between your legs.

“So very ready for me. Like a good rabbit.” His teeth sunk into the fabric, pulling it away from your body.

He inhaled deeply, his cock twitching. “Such a beautiful thing, a woman who desires my cock and is as eager as you.”

The heat of his tongue collecting your juices was otherworldly. “Lord Russ.” You groaned and he chuckled.

“I am going to put my cock in you little rabbit. You might as well call me Leman. It is easier to scream than Lord Russ.”

He buried his face between your legs, eating like a man starved, his tongue delving to depts you didn’t know were there. And this was all to prepare you for the mass of throbbing flesh between his legs.

Your fingers locked in his hair and held him close, at some point your head had fallen back to the floor and your voice echoed in the expansive room.

Russ chuckled and slipped a finger into you as he worked your clit with his tongue.

That was all you could take, cumming all over his hand and mouth.

“That’s a good girl, what a good rabbit.” He licked his hand clean and kissed his way up your body.

His cock nudged your lower lips, catching as he pushed the head in, stretching you further.

“Does my rabbit want some more? Does she want to be devoured by her wolf?”

“Yes~!”

Leman growled and forced several inches in, your back arched under him and your hands flew to his tough skin. Nails leaving little crescents in his skin.

“Marking me for yourself, little rabbit?” 

Russ grunted as he felt the pressure.

“Well…” you began, cheeks read and eyes half lidded, “if you're going to be as good a lay as I believe you'll be, then I might just have to start fighting other ladies to keep you.”

It was meant as a jest but something about it very much stuck with Russ and he wasn't sure why.

Outwardly he laughed, but inside he was intrigued.

“That would be quite the sight. Perhaps I should take you away as my own and train you.”

His cock filled you completely and Russ wasted no time in taking his pleasure, which subsequently gave you just as much if not more.

You writhed under him, his weight pinning you down as he rutted into your inviting heat.

“So good.” He growled, his fangs gleamed in the light of the fire as he grinned. “And what does my rabbit have to say for herself?”

Your brain felt as if he’d fucked every bit of sense from it. Your mouth worked but hardly an intelligible sound came out.

“Nothing to say little rabbit?” he panted “Or is your mind too full of pleasure from my cock for your mouth to form words?”

You stopped trying to reply and simply nodded.

It gave him no end of amusement.

The heat building in your body was about ready to boil over. Leman noticed and kept his pace content to drive you to the edge as many times as he could before he himself came. He took your hands and nibbled the soft skin of your wrist. 

It was sure to leave marks as well. The thought drove you over the edge and you came, crying out for him.  He quietly hummed his words of approval in your ear before leaving down to kiss and bite your neck. 

He'd steadily begun leaving the evidence of his claim on you the bruises and bite marks the proof that he'd been there. 

And whether he took you or not there would be no denying what had transpired between the both of you. 

“Leman~♡” You whined as you grew more sensitive, his ceaseless rutting giving you another climax.

It had driven him over as well and he pushed into you fully with a growl. His knot swelling to keep the seed he was spilling into you from escaping.

Leman huffed in satisfaction,holding you close as he felt your body expand slightly to accommodate the sheer amount. 

“Such a good rabbit, taking her wolf's cum so eagerly.”

You nodded against his shoulder, fingers grazing over scars, touching them lovingly. 

“Th-thank you.”

Moving gave you a shock. 

“Huh?”

“Oh, I did not tell you, I should have. We will be together like this for a while.”

“What happened?” You asked confused.

“I have knotted you. It is.. one of my strange abilities as a son of the emperor.”

His fingers played over your hair soothing you. 

As Leman lifted you and carried you to the bed he was sure that he would indeed take you. His brother wouldn't miss just one serf.

Laying on the bed he held you close as his cock settled and his knot began to decrease in size slowly. 

As his hand ran over your hips he found it a pleasant sensation. 

His hearts beat with a strange quickness and he found himself excited.

He held you, fingers brushing through your hair till you were fast asleep.

After an hour he slipped out of your warm clutch and slipped from the bed with surprising grace.

He laid a blanket over your form and pulled his pants on. 

Roboute hadn't been expecting his brother but welcomed him nonetheless. 

“I am almost done with these reports, did you have a good time?”

“Yes brother, I did.”

“Then what draws you away from your sons at this hour?”

“I wish to take the serf with me.”

Roboute sighed as he steepled his fingers and looked at Russ.

“I assume you mean the one you've been scoping out since your arrival several days ago?”

“Yes, her. My rune priest had assured me that it is a good match. That she will carry my sons and daughters well.”

Roboute looked at his brother, leaving forward on his desk. 

“Has she consented to this?”

“Oh,” Russ chuckled and grinned wide, “she had consented to many things this night. You should have seen her taking my-”

Guilliman stopped him with a hand. 

“Once the papers are filed and her consent given in front of a witness, you may have her.”

Russ whooped and left the office, Guilliman knew there was little point fighting him over it. 

Leman pulled you into his chest, keeping you close in his arms. Soon, he assured himself. Soon, you'd be all his. He kissed the top of your sleeping head and fell into a deep slumber himself.