#beaded armchair

[damedonger]

Traditional Basement - Lookout Image of a carpeted basement with a mid-sized elegant lookout and beige walls but no fireplace

[celayasmash]

Family Room Open Orlando a medium-sized family room in the beach style with white walls, a tile fireplace, a wall-mounted television, and a traditional fireplace.

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

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mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

[draconym]

My current Imaginary Scenario is to pretend I'm a mouse in a sort of Beatrix Potter World and imagine all the different objects in my house and how I obtained them. You know, spool of thread side table I stole from an old lady's purse. Velvet ring box armchair I found discarded in the park after a failed marriage proposal. Pocket square bed linens I liberated from the coat of a man distracted by a pretentious argument about beer. Bottle cap dishes also liberated during that argument. Beaded curtain that used to be a Mardi Gras necklace. That sort of thing.

[neontiger]

red-handed

♡ MDNI 18+

♡ jason todd x fem!reader

♡ you catch jason doing something a little...inappropriate.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

A thought knocks at the back of Jason's skull as he lays in your bed long after you'd left for work: maybe he was spending a little too much time here.

He was getting comfortable. Too comfortable. His clothes hung in your closet and his toothbrush sat in the cup next to yours. His boots had taken up residence next to the front door near the slippers you wore around the apartment. After patrol, yours was the only bed he wanted to greet. He was scattered around the space, in the corners and the blinds and the cushions of the couch.

And what did he do to repay you? Mess up your sheets and pile dishes in your sink. You'd posed the question - why not move in? - but Jason felt too strongly that he didn't deserve it. If he took that step, how much you'd discover...you'd grow to hate him.

With a sigh, a heave of shoulders, he sits up. Ugly, purple bruises paint his back, a result of last night's messy patrol. You'd been asleep by the time he crawled back to you, and as hurt as he was, as much as he needed you, he'd remained quiet. Stripped off his gear and left it on the armchair by the window, changed into a pair of sweats. You'd rolled over when you felt the bed shift from his weight, pressed your back into his chest. Like instinct.

And he hadn't even noticed you leaving.

Up. There were dishes in the sink, junk mail scattered over the kitchen counter, clothes to be washed. He'd earn his keep. He'd show you he deserved to be here.

Jason grabs a shirt from the closet and tugs it on, wincing at the movements required. Take care of the laundry first - that's a walk down the stairs to the laundromat. Then back to wash the dishes. Another idea - he should make dinner. He can do that. Maybe.

He can definitely order dinner. Something nice. You'll like that better, he feels.

The basket of dirty clothes sits on the bathroom floor. The pile is close to collapsing, and with another wince Jason realizes half of the items are his. It's too much for one trip. He needs another basket, a bag, something to hold half of it...

He grabs a trash bag from under the kitchen sink. It's only for a little bit, but he's careful to only grab his dirty clothes and stuff them into the bag. It's important to take care of your things first.

Done, Jason leaves the bag in the bathroom and carries the basket of your dirty clothes to the living room, sets it on the coffee table. He needs...he needs his shoes...

He swallows.

Atop the clothes is a silky red thong, a tiny black bow adorning the front. At one point, there was a plastic diamond at the center of the bow, but it broke off that night he nearly tore the panties ripping them down your legs. His gut tightens at the memory of that night, of you draped across the bed like a piece of art, hickeys on your thighs and breasts and neck, your nails in his back as he fucked you so rough the headboard scraped the paint from the wall.

Jason glances at the door, where there's no movement at all, before down at the growing trouble in his sweatpants. A quick one, just to get it out of his system. Then he'll do the laundry. Can't be productive with these distractions, can he?

He grabs the panties from the basket. They'll get washed after he's done. You won't know; he doubts it would bother you anyway. It'll be faster with the stimulation.

His eyes close as he brings your panties to his face. God, your fucking smell. A little sweet, strong, delicious. He lays his head on the back of the couch as he sinks into comfort, one hand dipping under the waistband of his sweats, and sniffs again. Like he's buried between your thighs, lips wrapped around your clit, your fluids dripping from your aroused cunt onto his tongue.

Jason pulls his cock free. Pre-cum beads at the tip, and he smears it over the head with his fingers as his tongue darts out to taste you on the fabric. Not as strong as having you spread open in front of him, but close enough for more pre-cum to dribble out, streaking down his cock.

God. You. He grunts as he gives his almost painful erection a single pump, and licks the panty crotch again, this time saturating the silk with his spit. He wraps it loosely around his cock and gives himself another pump. The silk is smooth, soaked with pre-cum and spit, brushing the sensitive underside of his cock head with every stroke.

His hips stutter upwards. Buried in you, your tight walls soft, warm...that's what he needs. Needs you wrapped around him and milking his cock, bouncing in his lap, your tits matching your eager rhythm as you chase your release. His hand tightens, stroke quickens, at the image in his head.

He misses the sound of the lock clicking on the front door.

The scrape of the door on the threshold, that he does notice. He shoots up, quick to untangle your panties from his cock as the door opens wide. He fixes his sweatpants as you step inside - as if that makes a difference with the way his erection tents the fabric, immediately drawing your gaze downward.

Your mouth hangs open. Everything fits together in little pieces: the laundry, the pre-cum staining the front of Jason's sweats, the panties bunched in his fist.

"Hi." You blink, meet his wide-eyed stare. The tips of his ears burn red. "You're up."

Jason buries his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "Yeah. I was...gonna do your laundry. For you. While you were at work. You're not at work."

"I left early. Migraine." The slight throbbing behind your eyes is so light you nearly forgot it was there. More an excuse to leave early than anything else. "When you say 'do' the laundry, do you mean you were going to wash it, or fuck it?"

Jason's mouth flaps wordlessly. He clears his throat. "I was gonna take it down," he insists. "I got distracted."

You close the door before taking a step forward, letting your bag drop to the ground. "You did? How terrible."

"I didn't mean - I'm sorry." His fists clench in his pockets. "I mean, I was gonna wash them anyway, I just thought..."

His words fade as you approach and shift off your coat. "You poor thing. What am I going to do with you?"

Jason's gaze drops to your lips, entranced by the way they form around the question, no doubt imagining them in other, more provocative situations. You reach into his pocket to free your panties from his fingers and hold them up in front him. "They're drenched." You sigh, fighting to keep up the facade and hide how soaked the panties you're currently wearing are.

"I'm sorry," he says again, this time a little more out of breath, a little less apologetic. In his pockets, his fingers dig into his palms as he holds on to control. All he wants - no, needs is to pick you up and throw you onto the bed, and fuck you until the metal frame breaks and you're screaming his name at the top of your lungs.

Heart beating in your fingertips, you push down his waistband. His stare remains locked on your face until your fingers brush his engorged cock, the touch cool and soothing as well as infuriating. You tie your panties loosely around the base of his member.

Jason lifts your chin and brings your eyes back to his again. "What're you doing?"

You don't answer, not out loud, but your fingers do. They undo the buttons on your top, strip the fabric from your shoulders, before slipping down the straps of your bra. Jason lifts his hands in an attempt to help. "No," you say, taking his hand as you undo the clasp at your back. "Not yet. Punishment first."

"Punishment?" He grins. Hand in yours, he follows your lead to the bed. You let go of him to unbutton your jeans.

"Strip," you order.

He's quick to listen as you climb onto the bed and lie back against the pillows. Your core is in knots, pulsing internally with rhythmic need. When he's undressed, he places a knee on the bed, one destination in mind. You stop him with a foot to his chest.

"Since you want to taste me so bad, go on." You spread your legs for him, inner thighs wet with the arousal that drips from your cunt. He salivates at the scene, you so exposed and drenched for him. It's better than his imagination.

Jason grips the backs of your thighs and lifts your legs, opening you further for him, until your knees are at your chest. His cock twitches with excitement as he lowers his lips to your pussy. You inhale sharply as he drags his tongue flat through your slit and flicks it over your clit. Another drag, wetter, hotter, his tongue thrusting into your cunt to taste you.

"Good," you whisper. You take a breath, back arching and hips lifting. His grip tightens and keeps you in place as he fucks into you with his tongue, upper lip just brushing your clit - enough to entice but not enough to stimulate. You swallow. "Good boy, but I need more than that, Jason."

His tongue drags up to give your clit a few teasing circles before his lips wrap around and trap the bud. You scrape your fingers through his hair and hold tight, cementing him against you as the suction from his lips and the vibration from his moans bring you higher. Your movements are restricted but that doesn't stop your body from trying, seeking more, more, more.

You whimper, fingers tangled at the back of his head, heart pulsing in your core as it knots. "Almost. So close, Jason..." Your head lifts off the pillow and you meet his intense gaze. His hips jerk, cock in desperate need of friction, but at the moment he can only get it from humping the bed. Forget telling him off; that desperation is what throws you over the edge.

You cry out as your orgasm reaches boiling point and rips through your body, causing you to collapse against the pillows again. Release drips from your cunt to his lips, and he drinks it messily.

"Stop," you pant, body trembling with the aftershocks. Jason drags his tongue up your slit one more time before moving to kiss your stomach. A trail of wet, messy kisses marks his path up, attention slathered at each of your breasts in turn. You sigh and moan when he wraps lips around a pebbled nipple and sucks.

Teeth scrape your neck but never break skin. His lips are shiny and wet when they meet yours, the taste sweet. Your legs make attempts to wrap his waist and goad him on but he keeps you folded into position and aching in want. All you get is his cock grinding in your slick, the head brushing against your overstimulated clit and your panties, still tied around the base, tickling your cunt.

"What punishment next?" Jason pushes up and slides his hands down to your ass, but you don't move your legs. "Or is that enough? Am I still in trouble?"

You shake your head, though he's not looking, too caught in playing with your pussy to notice. His thumbs spread your swollen lips for him as he continues to grind his cock on you.

"Jason. Jason."

He looks up. You reach down and wrap your fingers around his cock, keeping him still long enough for you to untie him. "You can fuck me now," you say.

"Yes, ma'am. Don't want to keep you waiting, huh?" He leans to give you another kiss, your legs crushed down by his broad shoulders. He takes your hands and places them at the backs of your knees. "I need you to hold on," he says. "Need you spread open for me, got it?"

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out - he takes that moment of stunned silence to sink his cock into your heat, slow and dragging, giving you seconds to adjust to his size before pulling back partway.

What's louder - the squelch of your pussy as he slams into you, the creak of the bed frame, or the cry he rips from your lips? You can't tell. You don't have time to figure out before he slams into you again. Your fingers dig into your own legs, the limbs already going numb as he fucks into you without abandon. Every thrust is accented with a moan, an almost breath, a grunt from him.

It's a steady pace, rocking and slamming into your cervix, fucking every thought out of your head. "So tight, babe," Jason pants, sweat dripping down is forehead, tracing his jaw. He grits his teeth, pleasure building at the base of his spine. He was never going to last, not after that so-called punishment, that taste of your orgasm still on his tongue. Though he's close, his pace doesn't relent, holding firm.

"This wet for me?" He manages to ask between groans. "You liked it, huh? Want more? Want me to fill this..." He grunts as your walls clench around his cock, sucking him in, threatening to end him. "Fill this pussy? Tell me, babe...tell me you want it."

Your entire body is in shambles, tightening and knotting and close to coming undone again. You nod because it feels like all you can do, crying out, "Yesyesyesyesyes." One long mess of a word, begging as that rope in your core snaps.

You can't hold your legs. You grab the headboard instead, slam it to the wall and silence it as your back arches and body tightens. Pleasure burns like lightning through your nerves. He doesn't give you space to break, to breathe, fucking you through the orgasm without mercy, relishing the way you clench and pulse around him. Exactly what he needs to send him crashing over the edge after you.

The feel of his cock throbbing as he pumps his release into you is enough to knock you off once more, this orgasm smaller and tighter and rough in your overstimulated state. Jason grinds against your cervix as you milk him for every drop, so much your combined fluids are already dripping out of your cunt, down your ass to pool on the bed. His lips crash on yours. You whimper into his mouth, heart about to leap out of your chest.

Then he's gone, pulling out of you, but his cum has no time to leak out further before his mouth is on your pussy again. You gasp - it burns, everything from your toes to your cheeks. His tongue circles your clit like a threat, everything in you wanting to run from the promise of pleasure you're not sure you can take anymore.

"Jason!" You whine, push at his head. "I can't - no more."

He sinks his tongue into your heat, tasting the combined flavors of the two of you, salty and sweet. "One more for me, please," he says. The words flush over your clit, the last bit of air the bud gets before it becomes trapped in his lips again. Fingers this time - two of them, not as thick as his cock, but thrust with precision, finding that rough patch of pleasure almost immediately as he sucks hard.

Your body resists; it doesn't have the heart for another orgasm, and the build-up is slow, dragging, riding the edge between pain and pleasure. It swells in your core as he thrusts his fingers harder, faster, increases suction on your clit.

"Right...there." The words leak through gritted teeth. Every muscle tenses, every bit of fiber in your body concentrating on this pleasure. You keen in frustration as the peak sharpens.

Then it snaps. Your vision goes white when his fingers press that spot a final time, the suction on your clit harsh, and your release squirts from your cunt with enough force to soak his face, drip down his chin to his chest.

Jason pulls back and quickly moves to kiss you again, to guide you through the aftershocks as your body trembles. "So good," he whispers, kissing your cheeks, the tip of your nose. Showering you in him as the orgasm ebbs. "All that for me, huh, babe? You did so good. I didn't think you'd make such a mess though."

You whine, punching his shoulder with weak fists. He laughs softly and wraps you in his arms before collapsing next to you.

Still shivering, you bury against his chest, chasing the wild beat of his heart as he comes down. His fingers make lazy circles on the small of your back as your breathing steadies.

"You still have to do the laundry," you mumble.

"Mm." Jason kisses the top of your head. "After a nap."

[peachpitfics]

Wildest Dreams

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Your Father has betrothed you to his eldest, most despicable friend. You confide in your closest friend, Benedict Bridgerton, that you wish your first time could be with somebody else, somebody you liked.

Length: 3.5k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Propositioning a friend, first time, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, orgasm.

a/n: Wildest Dreams is part i of iii ~ requested by anon here.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

The blood drained from your face, your hands clasped together in clammy nervousness – your father had just told you that since you have failed to successfully find a husband within the first year on the marriage mart, he will be arranging a betrothal between yourself and Lord Roger Howard. Lord Howard was six and sixty, he was your father’s eldest friend. Every interaction you ever witnessed was filled with contempt and disrespect, especially with service staff. His words were often filled with bigotry and unfairness. You found him repulsive, his yellowing chipped teeth in his villainous smile. The way his poorly maintained fingernails curled at the ends. His white moustache stained into unsightly colours from cigar smoke. The thought of having to be near this man, be intimate with this man, nearly drove you toward deaths door.

Your knees shook, standing from your armchair in the sitting room, not speaking a word to your father as you exited. Scurrying up the stairs, throwing yourself onto your bed, you felt your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Tears streamed down your face, you did your best to suck in deep breaths, but panic continued to wash over you. There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this fate. There had been some suitors interested in you, but you had chosen to wait, to see if the one person you had wanted would make himself available to you. Now it was too late, those suitors had moved on with other young ladies, and the man you wanted was nowhere to be seen.

Your lady’s maid knocked meekly on the door, having come to prepare you for this evening’s ball. The Queen would be there, and you knew she would be disappointed in this match your father had forced upon you, not that that would help you.

“Shall we get the family jewels out miss? I hear it is to be quite an exciting night” You could tell she was putting it on, trying to sound excited. It seemed to come off as patronizing instead.

“Whatever you should think is appropriate” You tried to keep your feelings to yourself, but the streaks through your makeup sold you out at first glance. You spent the rest of your preparation in silence, usually the two of you indulged in a little gossip, it was supposed to be fun.

All evening you hid behind larger groups, behind servers carrying trays of champagne, doing your best to ensure the inevitable could not happen. Finally, considerably late in the evening, your closest friend deigned to arrive. Almost surging across the dance floor and into Benedict’s side, you linked arms and impishly whisked him out through the conservatory doors.

“Miss Y/n” Benedict exclaimed, “What is the meaning of this?”.

You breathed heavily, ducking, and weaving through overgrown plants and florals. You scouted each entrance, paranoia clinging to your side like a child in a sack race.

“My father has committed a most heinous act” You spill to Benedict, there is only concern etched on his face, “I am to be married to Lord Howard”. Your breath never steadied, sweat beaded where your forehead met your hair line. There was that panic you remembered so fondly, only hypervigilance had eliminated that feeling from the centre of your chest.

“Oh lord,” Benedict’s mouth hung open, utterly flabbergasted, “I cannot believe he would do that to you” Both of his hands found their way to your shoulders in compassion.

“And yet he has. My own father has bargained me away to some elder beast! There is nothing I can do to stop it” Your hands ran through your hair, untangling one of the twists.

Benedict did not know what to say, all he could do was lurch forward and take you into his arms. His strong arms reached around you, pulling you tight. The sound of his steady breath and rhythmic heartbeat calmed you quickly.

“When I was a little girl, I wished on a falling star I would find someone who loved me as their equal. I now wish for that same thing on this very night. To think that I have wasted my life dreaming about love, finding someone like me, with the same interests, the same age as me even!” You thought aloud. Benedict was always someone you could tell your innermost thoughts to, he never judged you once, and he was the kindest of listeners.

Benedict Bridgerton also knew exactly who you were dreaming about – it was him. You had been friends for several years, and it had always been obvious to anyone with sight, that you and Ben were infatuated with each other. But Benedict was young, and impulsive, unlikely to marry at this time.

“I do not want to spend my life with that old simpleton! I want to experience life and love!” You cried out, “My elder sister divulged what it is married couples do on their wedding night – I do not want that with him! I cannot live my life without having ever experienced the touch of a man who cares for me!” Your cries turned into whispers; whimpers scattered throughout.

He held you close to him, making a caring swishing sound, it kind of sounded like the ocean. Benedict sure knew how to comfort you when you were in need.

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Your father’s voice echoed off the glass walls, sending you into a frenzy, quickly separating from Benedict, dabbing your cheeks with a handkerchief.

“Yes father?” You responded.

“Lord Howard is here with me. There is something he would like to say to you” Your father called. Benedict hid low amongst the broad-leafed plants, the darkness of the conservatory shading him. You appeared from the shadows without explanation, not that your father was seeking one. Lord Howard stood hunched next to your father, who was 20 years his junior. It appeared as though he bowed, but it was hard for you to discern.

“M…m…miss Y/n?” He stuttered, struggling to see through the spectacles at the end of his nose, “There is a question I must ask you. With the permission of your father, I am here to ask for your hand in marriage” Spittle flew from his mouth in between sharp consonants. Dread flooded your body, you felt like you were being submerged in a pool of water, the tears in your eyes, simply the only way for the water to escape.

There was animosity in your father’s gaze, warning you there was simply one answer to the question asked. Taking in a deep breath, “Yes, Lord Howard, I will accept” You murmured. Lord Howard did not look pleased, he did not appear bothered either, he simply nodded once and turned about, marching back to the main ballroom. You wondered if this was what your marriage was going to be like? Would he ignore your existence and leave you to your own life if you produced an heir? You could not ascertain whether this was a good thing or not.

Benedict hung his head, having watched this entire exchange from the shadows. There was an element of guilt on his part, he blamed himself, unable to give you what you wanted in time to save you. When your father had left you standing still, tears staining your dress, Benedict slid out from the darkness.

“I think I am going to ask the footman to take me home… I only have so much time before my time is not mine any longer” You lower lip trembled; the peaceful silence of the conservatory disturbed by the soft sounds of sobs.

“Y/n,” Benedict muttered, his hand running down your upper arm. Electricity connected your flesh in a zap, your breath caught in your chest as his skin joined with yours. His tender hands grazed yours, tickling the palm of your hand.

“Benedict” You shook your head, moving to take your hand away before he closed his around it. His tongue flicked over his lips several times as he contemplated what he had to say. Sometimes you heard the other young ladies tell stories about Benedict, you never knew if they were true. They spoke of how he was finest of the Bridgerton brothers, they also spoke of his rakish tendencies, however mostly in a jealous fashion.

The forecast in Benedict’s eyes swiftly shifted from clear blue to a stormy grey. You had not noticed how tall he was before, looming over you like a dark cloud. His face illustrated apathetic gloom, his hand boring you into him, like he was the eye of the storm.

“There is something I must speak with you about, in private” Benedict rolled his tongue aggressively on his teeth as he spoke. Everything about his demeanor was confusing, you felt strangely like prey, wondering why it felt good. Benedict snuck out the conservatory door, your hands clutched together while he led you to his carriage, asking his footmen to make way for the Bridgerton house.

“What is this about Benedict?” You asked as soon as the door was secure and the carriage moving.

“Y/n, please give me a moment and I will explain everything. I do not know if I have a solution to your problem, but I may be able to offer a compromise. Something I would only do for you, if you asked, because I care about you so deeply” Benedict paused, this intense look of thoughtful worry about him, “If you would be agreeable, I would like to suggest that I… bed you for the first time” Benedicts voice was low and resounding.

Your lips parted abashedly, your cheeks flushed pink, blinking became uncontrollable. All you could do was sit completely still, astronomically stunned by what Benedict had proposed. You understood that for whatever reason, Benedict could not give you everything you wanted, but he was offering you something. He was offering you an experience you may never have gotten to have otherwise, a chance to feel loved and wanted in intimate affection with another person.

“Say something, anything, please. I cannot stand this silence” Benedict rubbed his temples after a few minutes. His eyes were still dark with longing, he looked over with you a deviating sense of ownership.

“You would do that for me?” You entreated, hands shaking so hard you nearly sat on them to make it stop.

Benedict nodded surely across from you, the carriage pulling up at the Bridgerton house. Your eyes locked, the carriage completely still and silent, you took a moment to consider the ramifications of your choice. Ben’s posture was resolute, his gaze expansive, eagerly waiting for your reply.

“Yes” You swallowed hard, Benedict snatching your hand from your lap and dragging you from the carriage, running up the walk and into the house. You made short work of the very many stairs on the way up to his bedroom, sure that nobody could have seen you, as you ran that fast.

Blood rushing around your body, you stood just inside Benedict’s door, trying desperately to catch your breath. Benedict shuffled about the room, lighting a few candles, closing the windows for the evening. He looked back at you, having already stripped into your underclothes while his back was turned. A most shameful lust driven smile sketched lightly onto his face, he made the long voyage acrost the bedroom to stand a foot or two in front of you.

“Thank you for doing me this favor. I will owe you always” You remarked, your eyes dancing figure eights on the lush carpet squishing under your wiggling toes.

Benedict’s shoulders were more relaxed than you had ever seen them, his posture always just so. Strands of hair bled onto his sticky forehead, dark eyebrows brewing overhead transfixed eyes. That charming smile, filled with foolishness, had not been seen since leaving the ball – this was something so chronically serious to him. He effortlessly tugged at his maroon cravat, casting it to the floor, his proud neck craning to get another glimpse of you from another angle. His throat bobbed when he stepped closer again, just one more step. Fiddling with his waistcoat buttons ardently, watching the frustration set into your eyes, Benedict finally shed his coat and pitched it across the room, knocking over something unbreakable in the corner. It did not steal his gaze; his eyes were set on you. Benedict lifted his suspenders off his shoulders, allowing them to dangle by his hips, the chest of his white, silk undershirt gaping open. Your teeth instinctually bit into your lower lip at the slightest sight of skin you had not ever seen before. The corner of Benedicts mouth upturned smugly, his lips rolling together as his breath became audible. Standing just one foot apart, the tension between you was palpable. You wondered if someone had struck a match, might the room simply explode, there seemed to be so much chemistry between the two of you.

“Please, continue” Your hands pressed to your stomach, you watched as Benedict unlaced his boots, one foot at a time on the stool at the end of his bed. His blistering eye bore into you even still. Making his way back to you, still at hardly an arm’s length, his brawny arms crossed his body to pull his undershirt off over his head.

You swooned audibly, almost gasping seeing the entirety of his torso bare for the first time. Your lips wet, your eyes unblinking, Benedict smiled cheekily, knowing the effect he had on you. His hands moved past his navel, your eyes following, to the button atop his breeches. Benedict made quick work of his trousers, having teased you plenty. Your back straightened, your gob smacked jaw snapped shut at the sight of his naked body.

Benedicts tongue flicked over his teeth, “Would you like me to redress, y/n?” He badgered, pretending to reach for his shirt on the floor. You careened forward, lessening the space between you to essentially nothing.

“I do not know what to do, not truly” You admitted, feeling yourself choking on nothing. Benedict reached out to your hands, taking them in his, placing them on his chest. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the feeling of his light chest hair beneath your fingers. His sculpted pectoral muscles and taut stomach, a trail of dark hair leading you downwards made you feel ravenous for him. He looked at you as you looked at him, eyes filled with desire, faces pink in the candlelight. Benedict leaned in to kiss you, pulling away left at the last second to place a single kiss on your neck.

“You. Are. Wicked” Your face flitted over his, grazing your noses and lips together in potential kisses. Benedict leaned into you, his kiss soft, warm, and breathless. You gasped at the first separation, taking in hasty breaths before crashing back into each other. Everything you were doing felt completely wrong, reprehensible – but with a kiss as intoxicating as Benedict Bridgerton’s, you were afraid not even heaven could help you.

Your hands slipped into his thick, dark hair, pulling him down and into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing up onto him. His hands rested under your thighs, carrying you toward his bed, you could feel his hardness pressing against you. 

This was not what you had been expecting, this was no impish boy. Everything about his movements was intentional, well-practiced. His hot, amorous kiss; the way his tongue slipped thankfully over yours, how his teeth greedily nipped at your auspicious bottom lip. His hands moved passionately across your back, his long kisses surprisingly hard on your neck, laying you down on the pile of bedding. He frantically shoved it off the bed, throwing pillows, knocking himself in the face once or twice. You laughed together, slow sizzling tongues dancing as one as Benedict removed your floor length under gown.

Benedict knelt above you on the bed, gently stroking himself, looking down on you. There was that dark cloud you had noticed earlier.

“I want you to enjoy me” Benedict rumbled, making you a promise. You did not yet understand, but you would. Taking his finger, Benedict dipped it into your mouth, bringing it to your nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb at a glacial pace. His touch was peculiarly possessive, his lips rested around your other nipple now, sloppily dragging his tongue around in spontaneous circles. Big open-mouthed kisses surrounded your breasts, your shock and surprise manifesting in noiseless writhing.

Benedict positioned himself between your legs, lying down forcing your legs apart. Wanting to snap your legs shut, you refrained, trusting Benedict with your life. His breath was agonizingly warm on your inner thigh, his lips parted and gliding up from your knee. Benedict dotted small, chaste kisses along your hips – you deduced he was headed for the pinnacle of your thighs, a place you had never felt burn and ache quite like this.

His tongue slid gently up the slit of your pussy, you breath shuddered, his harmless laps amazed you with every movement. Eye lids fluttering, breathy moans filling the room, Benedict’s graceful tongue swirling your clitoris in curious patterns, drinking in your wetness as though you were a drug to him. Your fingers crawled down into his hair, your hips bucking toward his retreating tongue, you squealed lowly for more.

“Are you quite alright?” Benedict groaned into you, the vibrations of his voice set you on edge, your toes clenching in different ways.

“I do not know what you are doing, but I would like for you to keep doing it” You moaned intermittently, between gasps as his tongue flicked roguishly at your clitoris.

Benedict spread your legs wide and high, taking his finger and resting it at your entrance. He tediously sunk his finger inside you, curling up, making you yelp out in astonishment. Finding a steady pace, his finger already snug inside you, Benedict began at you again, never failing to find exactly the spot he was looking for. His alteration of speed and pressure backed you onto a cliff face, body incandescent and damned to revelry. Pressing his fingers into you rhythmically, Benedict pushed you over the edge, the sensation of falling and flying all erupting at once as you moaned and yelped uncontrollably. In the aftermath of your pleasure, you watched Benedicts eyes, his head still clutched between your legs gently sliding his tongue over you, his charming, sexy smile reflected in his eyes.

Slowing rising to his knees, Ben positioned your legs higher, resting your calves on his shoulders. Taking his cock in his hand, his pressed his tip against your wet skin. Your skin erupted in a tingling sensation, unbridled attraction and hunger liquefying your brain.

You looked up at Benedict in clear understanding, nodding gently, your eyes focusing on the powerful look of restrained urgency on Benedict’s face. He pushed forward smoothly, eliciting a groan from each of you, not even pressed to the hilt yet.

When Benedict filled your pussy fully, it felt like being winded. Panting like a dog under him, Benedict stilled himself, noticing how full and tight you felt, his cock twitching with pleasure. Benedict moved slowly at first, long unbroken strides forward, thrusting into you. Every drive forward, simultaneously blissful, and hot, curving to pound into that sensitive spot just inside you. While every drawback, was likened to slow-motion, devastating deprivation. Ceaseless, savage moans made Benedict grin above you, thrusting harder, wholly triumphant in setting you alight. You knew you would burn for him for the rest of your life.

“Make that sound for me again” Benedict grunted sinisterly, thrusting back into you brutally, forcing that loud intonation from you again.

Your fingers clawed at his back, your hips moving with his in most divine unison. Benedicts teeth grazed your ear, your breathing syncing in ceremonious adoration; his momentum increased, driving into you with new eagerness. Your nails buried in his plump behind, pulling Benedict tighter into you. With propulsive sureness Benedict plunged into you one last time, his cock twitching inside you to his irrevocable release. Never had you felt so full before, his face exquisite above you, leaning down to a soulful kiss.

“I’m proud of you, taking me like that” Benedict panted, taking a second before withdrawing and rolling next to you. He lay on the flat of his back, chasing his breath, his heart thumping through his chest, beating so hard you could almost hear it. His words made you blush, hiding your face in your hands, his seed leaking out of you onto the linen.

“It is not always going to be the same, is it?” You pondered aloud, staring at the detailing on the ceiling above you.

“I will not lie, y/n darling, I do not think every single instance will be the same” Benedict reached over, gently slapping your thigh in solidarity.

“That is disappointing to hear” You sighed dramatically.

Benedict chuckled sweetly, “Perhaps at his age, he will not have the capacity to complete more than the marital act”. You knew he was joking, trying to lift your spirits, but you genuinely hoped that might be true. Other worries began to plague your mind, worries of potential children. What if you were unable to conceive his heir due to his age?

You rolled onto your side, looking into Benedict’s clear, sky-blue eyes, “There may be another favour I ask of you, dear friend”. Benedict's eyes widened curiously, prepared to do most anything for you.

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Tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr // @marvelouslyme96 // @moreover-clover // @saintmagx //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fanfiction written by me, please let me know!

[soapyblubbles]

⋆｡˙ runaway pets ˙｡⋆

pairings: dark regulus + dark poly marauders

warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, implied kidnapping, threesome, implied fivesome, voyeurism, overstimulation, (light) slapping, choking, stockholm syndrome, smoking, shotgunning, pet names, etc.

a/n: please enjoy the much more comprehensive version of one of my very first works. there were a lot of inconsistencies and issues with the first version. I added a lot more detail to this and it honestly feels more like a one-shot than a drabble now. i'll add the unedited version at the bottom just incase anyone wants to take a peak. anyways, happy reading <3

“I told you it’d be worse if you went to get help.” Regulus sits on one end of the bed, a small indulgent smile flitting across his lips. As if nothing was wrong. 

As if you weren’t being fucked within an inch of your life.

You turn your head to him, breathless pants leaving your mouth as Remus continues to rock into you. His hips slap into your own at a steady pace. How long had he been sitting there?

The air is stifling, sweat beading along your forehead and the small of your back. The arm around your waist only adds to the oppressive feeling, Remus’ strong grip keeping you upright and in place.

Your arms shake from exertion, and you have to force your hands to unclench from where they’re fisting the damp sheets.

With a whimper, you reach for Regulus, trying to find the comfort you once found in him before it all. Before he had selfishly stole you away. Before you knew of the darkness lingering just beneath the surface.

You weakly try to pry off the arm wrapped around you, but it doesn’t budge. It only tightens, pulling you up until your back hits Remus’ firm chest.

“Want sir now. Please- Remmy-” The lanky brunette ignores you, muttering something unintelligible into your neck as his thrusts speed up. Your attention was stolen from him. He doesn’t like that- not one bit.

Your face crumples at the silent dismissal, the tears you’d been holding in falling just as you reach another trembling high.

“Please, m’sorry sir- c-can we please go home now?” You gasp out. Your limbs burn, they have been for a while you suppose, but still you try to ignore it, concentrating on just Regulus for now.

But he only hums noncommittally, standing as he makes his way to the makeshift bar in the corner of the room. Regulus rubs his jaw in mock thought, scrutinizing the scene before him while he pours himself a glass of firewhiskey. The smell of cinnamon saturates the air, adding to the heavy atmosphere.

“Thought you wanted to come here-“ He gestures around the room, lazily draping himself on the nearby armchair. “For help.” The last word is said with a sneer and laced with so much venom that you balk.

Even though you can tell he’s done arguing about it, you still sob out: “I’ll be good- promise.”

You hear Sirius let out a scoff. He’s leaning against the headboard, his shirt unbuttoned and a lit cigarette in hand, doing nothing but watching as his friends ruin you.

He’d been the one to call Regulus when you came running to their house, barefoot and in nothing but a frail, white nightgown. “You’re already being good here, pup- s’no use in leaving.” He makes his way towards you, squishing your cheeks together, your lips forming an o-shape.

He blows smoke into your mouth, smirking when you cough at the burn. “Y’already gonna be punished anyway, might as well do that here- ain’t that right Reggie?”

Regulus rolls his eyes, breaking his normally composed demeanor. “Don’t call me-”

“Hush, I can’t focus when you lot keep talkin.” James' speech is slurred as he speaks up, moving his head slightly from between your legs. He pays no mind to the way Remus pumps in and out of you. His mouth is so close to where the two of you meet that you can feel his cool breath against your clit as he talks.

“S’annoying.”  

You clench around Remus at the feeling, and the man in question groans, giving you a particularly rough thrust.

James goes back to work at that, humming softly as he drinks in yours and Remus’ juices. You let out a another strangled moan, instinctively trying to tilt your hips away.

Instantly Sirius’ face darkens with anger, “Uh-uh, I don’t think so puppy.” A hand shoots out to grab the base of your neck as James’ hands grip the front of your thighs tightly.

“Don’t fuckin’ run away from him- you understand?” 

You nod shakily, chest rising and falling quickly as you watch him with unseeing eyes.

“Just take it like a good girl, princess.” James cooes, lightly nibbling on the inside of your thigh. You let out a startled yelp.

“What d’you say bunny?” Remus asks from behind you, hips slowing as he tries to find that spot. Trying to coax the words out of you. You whine, unable to answer until Sirius gingerly slaps your cheek, raising a sharp brow at you.

“M’sorry- m’so sorry Jamie.” Your head is spinning, an ache growing until it becomes practically mind numbing.

At this point it’s all you can focus on.

“Thought I taught you better than that pet.” Regulus chides, clicking his tongue in disappointment. He looks only slightly more disheveled than before. His hair is not neatly combed back like it was earlier, and his tie considerably loosened. His fingers dig into the cushioned arms of the chair, the veins in his forearms flexing in a way that makes your mouth water.

You lick your lips. “Sir-”

Remus shushes you. “S’ okay bunny- y’just have to make it up to him.” You cry out as he brushes against your g-spot, finally finding what he’s been looking for this whole time.

Each hit of his hips is aimed perfectly, giving you no room to breathe until you’re a gasping mess.

James’ mouth certainly doesn’t help. His warm tongue suckles at your clit, unrelenting as he brings you to that exhilarating peak over and over again.

Eventually he breaks away, wiping the wetness around his mouth with the back of his hand. A feral grin forms as he pushes the hair away from your face, cupping your teary cheeks. “That wasn’t so bad now was it? You can take a little more, right?”

Sirius answers before you can even think to open your mouth, a mocking frown on his face. “I don’t know about that Prongs- she seems a right mess already, huh? Don’t think she can go on.” He slaps between your legs, and a panicked moan startles its way out of you. 

You quickly come undone, so worked up from before, but the torment doesn’t end there.

“I think you're right, Pads.” James murmurs, as he slips his fingers through the mess of your cunt, the tips of his fingers grazing the base of Remus’ cock.

It’s enough to startle a groan out of him.

Sirius grabs onto your hips, reaching around James to take control of the even pace Remus set. “C’mon pup, make a mess on Moony’s cock- be a good little cockslut for us.”

He bounces you viscously atop Remus, everyone watching intently as you become a drooling mess.

Your set your lidded gaze on Regulus, whose self-control looks like it’s seconds away from snapping. 

Yet he makes no move to stop the situation.

“Come on princess- fuckin’ come for us. Make a fucking mess.” James growls into your ear, pinching your clit roughly. Tears well in your eyes, body tensing as you are, yet again, pushed off the edge.

“Fuck- such a good bunny.” Remus curses. 

Sirius and James mock your high pitched cries, taking a sadistic pleasure in watching you sob at the overstimulation.

Your limbs go slack, Remus panting heavily as he fucks you through it all, his breath fanning against your neck. He kisses your temple softly and you whine, barely able to move, even as the aftershocks flow through you. 

The three continue to overstimulate you, and Remus lets out a breathy chuckle when Sirius lets go of your hips, letting you fall face first into James’ chest.

“S’your turn princess. We’re not doing all the work for you- besides you still have three more cocks to go.”

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

UNEDITED VERSION

[xxsabitoxx]

Sweet Girl~

Mentor Nanami x Fem Student Reader (early-mid 20s)

Warnings: descriptions of hand jobs, blow jobs, saliva...lots of drool, ball fondling, gagging, deep throating, Nanami walking you through it, Nanami throat fucking you, gagging, did I mention drooling? Pet names, dirty talk, praising, being aroused, getting impaled on a fat cock, creampies, breast sucking, its a lot of filth

Synopsis: Nanami is your mentor and you've finally convinced him to let you pleasure him. This is pure smut with literally NO plot

WORD COUNT: 4856

You stared at it with an apprehensive look, your thighs squeezing together as you sat on your folded legs. You weren’t sure how you would even go about getting your mouth around him, nevermind deep throating him like you desired to. “Nanamin…” you breathed out, pupils dilated as you roamed over the length of his cock. “Hmm?” the blonde hummed softly, reclined in his armchair as you knelt before him. “You…it’s so…”

You swallowed, unable to tear your eyes away from his weeping cock. “Big?” the sorcerer conducted for you, a smugness to his tone, one you didn’t expect. “...and thick.” you added in a near guttural tone, aching to trace every vein with your tongue. “You don’t have to take me in one go, sweet girl.” He murmured softly, trying not to show how much he was getting off on the hypnotic trance his cock had seemed to put you in. 

“But…” you breathed out, watching a pretty bead of precum leak from his bulbous tip before sliding down his tanned length. “...But nothing, I don’t want you hurting yourself trying to please me.” Nanami’s hand came to grab your chin, gently pulling your gaze away from his cock so you could properly meet his eyes. You hadn’t even touched him yet, but you looked utterly fucked out. “Nanamin…” You used the name again, not missing the way his cock twitched in response. 

“Show me how you like it… please… use my hand.” You pleaded with him, placing your hand on his bare thigh to encourage his decision. “Alright, sweet girl. I’ll show you how I like it.” He practically purred, the tone so sultry and almost felt foreign coming from his lips. Nanami grabbed your wrist carefully, wrapping your fingers around the shaft of his cock. He huffed out a bemused laugh when your fingers couldn’t wrap around him fully. 

“Your hand is much smaller than mine, sweet girl.” There was a strain to his voice now, as if he too had fallen under the hypnotic daze you were in. “It’s okay… Nanamin just show me how to please you… I want to make you feel good.” Your lips were parted, still slick and slightly swollen from the intensity of the kisses he had given you only a few minutes prior. “Okay, okay, I will. So eager…” he cooed, warm hand still covering your own around his cock. 

“Like this…” he added softly, guiding your fist up and down his length. “I like pressure…” he added with a small hum, squeezing his hand around yours to create enough pressure that his head nearly fell back. “Not too fast, but not to show.” the drag of your soft fingers along his cock had his throat constricting, your hand was a world of a difference when in comparison to his. It was smaller, it was softer, warmer, just a little gentler, and fuck did it glide perfectly. 

“I like to play with the tip…” he mumbled, watching your lips part further when you mewled for him. He guided your fingers around the dull head of his cock, he let go for a moment to give you free reign. You took the initiative to massage the head gently, running your thumb along his slit and collecting the shiny precum that spilled from it. You enjoyed the groan that seemed to vibrate Nanami’s chest as you did so, more precum spilling from the tip as you toyed with him.

You let your mind wander, imagining Nanami after a long day of work stripping down to nothing and playing with his cock until he blew his load all over his fist and stomach. “Nanamin…” you breathed out, mind going even further. Maybe he humped his pillow, or maybe he even had some sex toys he used… the thoughts were driving you wild, encouraging you to be a little more bold with your exploration of his cock. “What is it, sweet girl?” he questioned you softly. 

“How else have you gotten off?” You questioned softly, fighting off the urge to reach forward and lick along the column of his shaft. It was just as girthy as it was long, surely your jaw would kill after. That was, if you managed to get him in your mouth to begin with. “Oh? What an interesting question.” He groaned as your hand slid down his shaft again with no instruction, turned on by the fact that you were taking it from there. “I want to know how much of a perv my Nanamin is…” 

You used your other hand to gently rest on his other thigh, your fist gliding up and down his heavy length. Your fingers were itching to cup his balls, needing to feel the weight of them on your palm, to feel how full they were. “Are you asking me if I’ve used toys?” He mused, getting a little more comfortable as your hand worked wonders on him. “Mmhmm. I want to know… no I need to know, Nanamin.” You batted your eyelashes at him, shameless in your pursuit to gain the knowledge you desired, cunt clenching around nothing at all. 

You inhaled at the realization that the tantalizing cock before you had somewhere else it would need to fit. “You’re unrelenting…” the blonde groaned out as your hand slid back down his shaft. “No, I’ve never bought a pocket pussy if that’s what you’re asking me, sweet girl.” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at his crude wording, it sent heat straight through your body. “So you’re not all that adventurous, huh?” Your fingers returned to his tip, massaging again as your head slowly moved closer to him. Your intent was still to suck him off.

“Not using proper sex toys makes me unadventurous?” he countered you as his cheeks flushed pink, large hand gripping the armrest of his chair tightly as he watched your head move closer. “Proper? You’re saying you’ve used other things, Nanamin?” You smiled innocently at him before dragging your lips along his bare thigh. “Clever girl.” He praised you, his other hand coming up to cover the lower half of his face as you trailed your tongue along the tensing muscles of his thigh.

He wanted to touch you, fuck did he want to touch you so bad. But watching you move as you pleased, toy with his body as you pleased… he felt it would be wrong to interrupt you. You hummed in acknowledgement, cunt throbbing as you waited for him to explain. “I have a vibrator…” He admitted as his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. You froze, leaving a wet mark on his inner thigh from where you had sucked a hickey. “You’ve used a vibrator?”

Nanami’s hand let go of the armchair, moving to rest on your cheek instead. “Do you think you can take my cock now, sweet girl? If you can, I’ll indulge you and your little perverted fantasies.” Any anxiety you had about trying to fit him in your mouth was gone, completely forgotten at the promise of the typically reserved man telling you about his alone time. You nod, pushing yourself up on your knees to hover over his tip. “Easy, sweet girl, I don’t want you hurting yourself.” 

Nanami’s hand was still on your cheek, thumb brushing along your cheekbone as you licked your lips. “Take it nice and slow, I promise I’ll tell you everything you want to hear.” You nodded, mouth opening to let saliva drip freely. You both watched as your spit fell onto the head of his cock, dribbling over the top and down his shaft. Your hand was still resting on the base of his cock, your saliva meeting where your hand was wrapped. “Good girl, nice and slow.” 

Nanami encouraged you, his voice thick with lust as he watched you work. When you were satisfied with the amount of saliva on him, you began working your fist up and down his length. Nanami watched you jerk him off with a lazy smile, pleased to see that you had grown confident enough to take the lead. “You don’t have to take me all at once, just start with the head.” Nanami’s hand guided you lower, watching your tongue dart out to just barely ghost him. 

Still, it was enough to have him exhaling shakily. “Good girl, kitten licks are perfect.” You felt hot all over at his praise, clinging to every word he spoke. You stopped hesitating after that, tongue moving to flatten against the underside of his cock. You locked eyes, body tingling at the thought of how lewd this must look. Nanami nodded slightly, lips parted and unable to speak as his chest rose and fell rapidly, all due to the soft, wet warmth of your tongue. 

Nanami couldn’t recall the last time someone had gone down on him, and he was glad he didn’t because despite walking you through it, he felt like he was getting this done for the first time all over again. Though, it was probably second nature for him to guide you. You were always so excited to ask him for guidance, so eager to take his advice, full of the desire to please. You broke away first, eyes focusing on the crumbled blue of his dress shirt. 

You moved your head up and down, gliding your tongue along the underside of his shaft until you could work up the courage to try and wrap your lips around his head. Nanami watched you, pupils blown wide as you stopped licking him, lips parted and hovering just above the weeping head of his cock. “Nanamin… you’re so big.” You were prolonging it, not because you were scared, but because you enjoyed the way his abdomen tensed each time you stopped. 

“Thank you, sweet girl…” he murmured softly, biting his tongue and holding back the words he really wanted to speak. He wanted to feel your soft lips wrapping around his tip, your wet tongue on his cock. Fuck he wanted to feel your throat constrict around him. Nanami cleared his throat, cock twitching from his own thoughts. “Bet you’d feel so good…” you murmur again, eyes meeting his as you breath fanned over his wet tip. “Fuck…” Nanami choked out, he needed you. 

“Please… sweet girl please… I need you…” he nearly dissolved into his seat, shocked those words had even left his lips. “You do?” a little lower now, your bottom lip pressing to the head of his cock as you looked at him through your lashes. “I do, so, so bad… I just need to feel your mouth.” Your tongue darted out to lick up his slit, listening to his breathing stutter as you did so. “I’ll try my best to make you proud, Nanamin~” you no longer felt any anxiety about making him fit. 

Your jaw relaxed, lowering your head to wrap your lips around his head. Nanami groaned, deep and unrestrained as your cheeks hollowed. Your body felt electrified at the noises he made, cunt throbbing with need as your thighs pressed together. “G-good, just like that.” He encouraged you, trying to hold on to whatever composure he had left as you eagerly lowered your head more. Your jaw strained a bit, the urge to gag making your throat constrict but you managed to stave it off for the time being. You recovered easily, tongue dancing around  what you could manage. 

You had maybe one fourth of him between your lips, heavy on your tongue and slightly salty. He smelt good too, his natural musk making you whine around him. You wanted to take him all, but you knew you needed to pace yourself if you wanted it to be enjoyable for Nanami. “Good girl, you’re doing so good… bob your head a bit… like this.” You moaned as Nanami’s hands came up to cup your face, gingerly guiding your head up and down his shaft. 

Your jaw slackened completely, eyes watering a bit as Nanami pushed a little more of his length into your mouth each time he dropped your head down. Drool was seeping down your chin, covering the rest of his shaft in your shiny saliva and making Nanami’s brain buzz with possessiveness. You looked so pretty with your mouth shoved full of his cock, eyes watery and lips swollen. “Good girl…so good… so fucking good… relax.” His head nearly fell back as he brought your head further down on him than he had previously. 

You gagged, the noises sending vibrations straight through him. “Sorry… sorry fuck…” he tried to guide your head up but you refused, tears dripping down to his groin as you relaxed your throat and tried to take what was left of him. You were so close to your goal, you needed to feel his entire length down your throat. A strangled noise left Nanami’s lips as your nose brushed his pubic bone, scrunching slightly as blonde hair tickled you. Nanami felt suffocated, utterly transfixed on the fact that his entire cock had disappeared down your throat. 

It made his mind melt, not a single thought passing through his head was coherent. You held yourself in place, taking shaky inhales through your nose as you swallowed around him. It made your stomach lurch, the mild fear of your airway being obstructed made you feel weightless. Reluctantly, you pulled up again, pulling off of his cock all together. You gasped for air, lips swollen and wet with your drool. “S-shi– are you okay?” A sheen of sweat had formed on Nananmi’s brow, his cock still standing proudly, covered in your shiny spit. 

“Yeah…” You whispered, voice mildly hoarse already. “Do you need a break…?” Nanami’s face was flushed, cock weeping precum still. He hadn’t realized how close he was to coming until you stopped. “No…” was all you uttered as you moved to take him again. Nanami couldn't speak, every word dying on his lips as your mouth was back on his cock. “Oh…oh shit…just like that sweet girl… fuck your mouth takes me so well…” You glanced upwards, watching his throat bob as he tilted his head completely back. A low, guttural moan left his lips as you swallowed.

“You’re going to make me cum, sweet girl. Fuck you’re gonna make me cum so hard…” You whined at that, sending more vibrations down his length as your nose brushed his pubic bone again. Feeling bold, your head began to bob at a steady pace, nails raking his thigh while the other hand reached down to cup his balls. The sound he made was nothing short of animalistic, making your cunt clench around nothing at all as you fondled him. 

“Gonna cum… sweet girl… fuck I’m gonna cum…” his jaw was clenched tight, one hand fisting your hair as he guided you up and down his cock. If your mouth wasn’t occupied, you’d be encouraging him to just let go. You were desperate, you needed to feel him cum in your mouth. So, you worked harder, hollowing your cheeks with every pass over his length, pushing your head up further with each go so you were nearly taking him whole over and over. Your fingers were massaging him gingerly, his balls felt hot and heavy in your grasp. 

“Shit…oh fuck… fuck fuck…” Nanami’s tone was hoarse, those words leaving his lips in a steady mantra as you felt him start twitching in your mouth. You tried to encourage him by squeezing a little harder, eyes widening when a higher pitched whine left his lips. You repeated the motion, sinking your mouth all the way down as Nanami came hard down your throat. You swallowed eagerly, taking everything he had to offer you and not pulling away until you felt his body relax back into the seat. Carefully, you pulled off of him, shocked when he wasn’t softening. 

“How was it?” you choked, wiping your mouth and slightly numb lips. Nanami, on the other hand, was still trying to blink the stars from his vision. “Nanamin?” you asked him again, blinking up at him with way too innocent eyes. “Na-na-min?” you teased him, pushing off your sore knees to stand before him now. “Earth to–” but he finally responded this time, hand running down his face before looking up at you with lidded eyes. All it took was a single movement, one finger beckoning you forward. “Sit on it, sweet girl… if you think you can take it.” 

You blinked, lips opening and closing a few times but no words were coming out. “Are you still shy, sweet girl? C’mon, I’ll help you.” Nanami encouraged you, the teasing tone was still wrapped around each word but you could tell he was genuine. You nodded, moving to pull off your underwear, leaving your skirt and top on just to tease him. “Undress for me, sweet girl.” Nanami sighed, one hand pressed to his face as he watched you try and walk towards him. “Why is that, Nanamin?” You froze, hands tucking neatly behind your back as you tilted your head. 

“You’ve seen all of me, sweet girl. It’s only fair that I get to see you…” he cooed, straightening again in the armchair as he waited for you to mount him. “I…” you trailed off, you couldn’t really deny him when he put it that way. “Fine, Nanamin…” but he cut you off with a click of his tongue. “Kento, sweet girl, call me Kento.” You felt your face grow warm, lips parting before quickly closing again. “O-okay, Kento.” You shifted your weight from foot to foot before giving in again “I’ll undress for you, since you asked so sweetly.” You teased with a grin. 

The blonde watched, eyes following your hands as you easily undid your skirt and let it drop to the floor. Fully exposed to him now, you couldn’t help but feel warm all over as he took in the sight of your bare cunt. “Cmere…” he muttered as you moved to undo the buttons of your top. “Leave those for me…” He smiled at you despite the persistent throbbing between his legs. Despite coming once, Kento was still hard and eager to feel you. Only your cunt could offer him the relief he so desperately desired. 

You moved forward again, this time climbing onto his lap and setting your weight against his thighs. You glanced down, his cock still erect and standing proudly between the two of you. “I got you really worked up, didn’t I, Kento?” he nodded, breathing stuttering at the sound of his name leaving your pretty lips. “You know just how to get to me, sweet girl.” You shivered as his hand came up to caress your cheek, the other nimbly began undoing your buttons. “Let me return the favor, you did so good for me, sweet girl.” 

He motioned you towards him, lips meeting yours in a kiss that was far more gentle than any that he had bestowed upon you. Kento sucked your swollen bottom lip between his teeth, biting on it softly as he popped open yet another one of your buttons. Your hips were growing restless, the persistent throb and deep ache in your gut were making you impatient. “Kento…” you groaned, muffled by his lips. He only hummed, working another button open as your cunt just barely brushed his length. “Need you…” muffled again, but he understood. 

Pulling away, Kento smiled at you. “Needy… so adorably needy. I haven’t even prepped you.” but you shook your head, mind cloudy as you uttered the next words. “Just take it slow, I’ll be okay… I need you Kento… can’t possibly wait any longer…” tears shone in your eyes and he knew he was a goner. There was no way he was denying you of what you so clearly needed. “Okay, okay… no need to cry sweet girl, I’ll take care of you… Nanamin will take care of you.” you shivered, hearing the nickname leave his lips made your own mind go blank. 

“Lift your hips…” he commanded softly, all the while his hands were abandoning their previous tasks and moving down to grab your ass, supporting you as you moved up. “I’ll take it nice and slow for you, just say the word and I’ll stop.” Your lips were parted, breathing heavily as you gave him a delirious nod. “I need to hear your words.” He spoke softly, making sure your eyes were meeting  his as he spoke. “Will you tell me to stop if it becomes too much?” Kento asked again, fingers thrumming against your ass as he waited. “Yes, I will. Promise, Kento.” 

“That’s my good girl.” he cooed, watching your brows crease at his praise. Slowly, he started to lower you on his cock, pressing his head into your entrance slowly and studying the way your face morphed into surprise. “Shh, it’s okay…” one hand left your ass now, sneaking around the front of you to slip two fingers between your thighs. “You’re doing so good for me…” he whispered as he began to rub steady circles on your throbbing clit. The pain subsided a bit, a breathy moan slipping past your lips as you began setting yourself down on him even further. 

Kento’s lips quivered, eyes moving down to watch where his cock was slowly but surely disappearing between your thighs. “So good… you’re taking me so good.” His fingers continued their rhythm, sending waves of arousal straight through your body as you finally settled into his lap. “F-fuck…Kento.” you whined, walls clenching and spasming around his length sporadically as you tried to adjust to his cock. “You’re doing so good, sweet girl.” His voice was thick, breathing just a little labored as he tried not to think too hard about how you were suffocating him. 

“Just…just stay still for a few minutes okay…” Kento’s other hand left your ass and began popping open the last few buttons, watching your top fall open to reveal your bra. Kento wasted no time pulling down the front of your bra, groaning as your breasts spilled out for him. “So pretty…” he muttered more so to himself than you, eyes zeroing in on the pliant skin as he leaned forward. You couldn’t form a coherent thought as Kento’s lips wrapped around the pebbling skin of your nipple, paired with his fingers still toying with your clit and his cock stuffed inside of you. 

“Kento… oh fuck Kento please…” your hips began moving on their own, head falling back as his teeth sunk into the tender flesh. Your hips moved half hazardously, not really in a position to be able to ride his cock the way you’d want to. Not that Kento cared, his fingers were growing slick with your arousal just as he was wetting your breasts with his saliva. Every sense was engulfed in you, that’s all he could ask for. He pulled away for air a moment later, tilting his head up to see you looking down on him. “Keep trying to ride me, sweet girl, it’s cute.” 

You felt your face grow warm, eyes squeezing shut as your hips lost their barely there rhythm. “Oh, did I make you shy?” he hummed against your skin, littering your breasts with kisses as he used his free hand to try and guide your hips into some sort of rhythm again. “Answer me when I speak to you, I need to know you’re enjoying yourself…” You whined as he spoke, eyes opening slowly as you let him guide you into a steady but shallow rhythm. “I-You…yeah you made me sh-shy…” You choked out as he chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to your sternum. 

“Good, that's a good girl…” he murmured, feeling your walls twitch around him as he praised you. “You just love it when I praise you, don’t you?” Kento hummed yet again, tongue flattening against your breast as he never broke eye contact. “Y-yes…Kento.” You moaned as your orgasm built, the pressure in your gut intensifying as you began rocking your hips in time with his shallow movements. He was meeting you now, each barely there bounce was met with his hips leaving the chair to meet you. “I’d rather… fuck you on… a bed… ya know…” 

He spoke in between the kisses he showered your chest with, a terrible time to really complain but he couldn’t care. “I always envisioned taking you on my bed, ya know, laid out nice and pretty for me, at my mercy… a chair limits our possibilities.” He sighed, rubbing your clit just a little quicker as your breathing turned more ragged, you were close. “You’re always so obedient in my fantasies…” he smirked as you let out a strangled whine “you thought I forgot about my promise, didn’t you?” you nodded, having completely forgotten Kento’s promise in the first place. 

“I would never break my promise to you, Sweet girl. You wanted to h-hear about my fantasies, so I’ll tell you all about them while your pretty pussy suffocates my cock.” You felt like your bones had been liquified, every vulgar word he uttered made your body react. If you weren’t careful, you’d be coming and overstimulated in seconds. “T-the vibrator, Kento tell me about the vibrator you use…” You nearly squealed, the tension in your gut building until it nearly rendered  you speechless. Every drag of his cock over your velvety walls felt like molten pleasure. 

“Course you’re still hanging onto that, clever girl…” he kissed your chest again, smiling up at you before leaning back to give himself better leverage to thrust upwards. “The damn thing is pink, hot pink too. Never f-fails to remind me how fucking lonely I was.” He seethes, ears dark red as he reveals his darkest secret. “I use it just how you’d think, I drag i-it along the underside of my cock…” he inhales sharply as your hips jerk, orgasm nearly upon you. “When I’m really fucking lonely… fuck when all I could think about was your pussy…” you cut him off with a loud moan. 

You were close, so close you were certain he wouldn’t get to finish his story before you were coming all over his throbbing length. “...You haunted my every thought, sweet girl… to the point only that hot pink fucking toy could get me off the way I wanted…” he was trying his hardest not come yet, needing to feel your orgasm completely untouched by his own. “Kento…close…” your hands found their way to his shoulders, hips bouncing harshly as you chased the high that was just within your reach. “Then come for me, sweet girl, I want to feel it.” 

Your head shook, suddenly embarrassed at the fact that you were about to cum all over his cock. “Don’t get shy on me now, sweet girl.” His fingers tightened on your clit, smirking as your hips jerked erratically, your orgasm hitting you hard as your hips sunk completely onto his cock. Kento didn’t slow, fingers still toying with your clit as your walls stuck to him like a vice, spasming every time you took a labored breath. You couldn’t see, nevermind hear. Your vision was covered in spots as you tried to calm down, ears ringing loudly before you slumped forward. 

Nanami huffed out a laugh, finally removing his fingers from your over stimulated and puffy clit. Both arms wrapped around your middle, his hips still moving in and out of you shallowly as he whispered you endless praise. “I’m gonna come, sweet girl, just another minute… won’t overstimulate you for too long…” his brows creased, focus crossing his face now that you were burying your own into the crook of his neck. He had been trying so hard to maintain an easy going look, not wanting to scare you during your first time together. 

Kento mumbled praises to you, quieting your whimpers as his cock pressed into you one, two, three more times before coming to a stuttering halt. You shivered, feeling his sticky release spurt into you, painting your velvety walls in white, hot cum. “Good girl, my good, sweet girl… take it all, it’s all for you…” He babbled as he came down from his own high, settling you gently into his lap, length still buried inside of you. Silence fell over the two of you, saved for some labored breathing before finally calming down. You were the first to break the silence. 

“D-did I do good for you, Kento?” his first name was still foreign on your tongue but you were quickly becoming addicted to the way it sounded. “Did you do good? You did amazing, sweet girl. Nothing… no one… will ever compare.” His endless praise set your heart on fire, face nuzzling closer to his sweaty skin before placing a few chaste kisses along his racing pulse. “I love you.” So soft you were shocked you even dared to say it, but Kento heard you, of course he did. 

“I love you too, sweet girl… get some rest. I’ll take care of you. “

[sturnlsstuff]

TEASING GHOSTFACE!MATT THROUGH THE CAMERA.

[smut, masturbation]

matt's room was cloaked in darkness, save for the faint glow of the monitor in front of him, casting an eerie light on his face. his skin burned with the heat of his focus, his gaze locked in your every move. every inch of matt taut with the need to bridge the space between you two, but he was too mesmerized and hard to move, so all he could do was watch.

a heat crept through you as your fingers run along your slick folds, a quiet gasp falling from your lips. the desire you felt was bigger than ever, mostly caused by the awareness of matt watching you. he was always watching, sometimes making you cover the camera that was between your books on the shelf opposite your bed, but other times, in moments like these, you took advantage of him being able to see you— and you made him lose his mind.

it should've made you nervous, but instead, it made you feel alive. the confidence you had at that moment made power surged through your veins, a dark little secret shared between you two. matt was craving, desperate to consume every inch of you, and you feel it, that undeniable pull— his hunger, his obsession. and you were feeding it.

your gut is raveling with the growing pleasure, your fingers circling your dripping entrance, legs spreading wider to be on full display for him. a small whimper leaving your lips, making matt groan as his hand was already working on his hard length, his pulse throbbing in his ears, the rhythm of his breathing unsteady.

he strokes himself slowly, matching your teasing, his blue eyes locked on the monitor just as you push two fingers inside your pussy. matt's grip on the armchair tightened as he watches you pumping your fingers in and out. you were so wet that he was able to hear it even through the computer as you continued.

"oh my god, matt... wish it was you touching me right now—" you choke out, circling your clit with the other hand. your eyes squeezed shut, there was no point in guessing of who you were thinking about, since it was pretty obvious.

he moans after hearing your words, the pink hue tinting his cheeks, his hand moving faster now, more desperately. his thumb brushes over the head of his cock, his grip tightening as he starts pathetically bucking his hips in rhythm with the growing ache in his stomach. "fuck, sweetheart... drivin' me crazy..." he growls just as you whimper his name again. the power you had over him made the lust burn hotter, more insistent. he keeps fucking his hand, not being able to look away from the monitor, his shirt between his teeth to muffle his noises.

"mmhp— so good—" another desperate whine leaving your lips as you curl you fingers, hitting your g-spot and making your toes curl. you bend your knee, your back arching up, exposing yourself to matt even more and giving him a better look.

"oh, shit, gonna... gonna make me cum..." his voice hoarse, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. he throws his head back, but his eyes still remain on the computer, not wanting to lose any second of watching you, his hips constantly moving upwards as he continues jerking off. you move your fingers deeper and faster, completely unaware of matching his movements, your jaw hanging low, eyebrows knitted together in pleasure.

"m-matt, i... i'm so close—"

"come f'me, sweetheart, c'mon...." he mutters to himself, his dick twitching in his grasp. "f-fuck, keep... keep going..."

it's definitely a sight, the way you're fucking yourself on your fingers, your gummy walls sucking them in, the other hand circling your swollen bud. but it's when he hears your next words that he loses the last control he had.

"thinking of your cock deep inside me— miss this... miss you— fuck, please—"

a loud groan leaving his lips, his chest heaving, "shiiiittt—" he chases his release, his movements erratic. there's a moan of your name leaving his lips just as cum spurts out of his cock, painting his skin.

"need to... feel you— please, matt—" you cry out just as your legs start to tremble, your pussy throbs. you're completely a mess, the pleasure that overcomes you is so intense that it leaves you gasping for air. you try your best not to close your legs as you start creaming around your fingers, letting him see everything, your fingers moving in the same pace as you work yourself through your orgasm. "fuck, i can't..." your legs automatically close, your hips lifting from the bed to start grinding against your hand.

for the next moment, both rooms are filled with heavy breathing, the air around you thick. both of you breathless, his skin burning with the ache of want, his chest tightened with a raw, possessive need— matt couldn’t just watch anymore. he needed to be there, to close the distance, to feel you under his hands as always.

"little fuckin' tease," he pants, and sends you a short message.

your phone buzzed just as you come down from your high, pulling your covered in slick fingers out of your pussy. you reach for the device blindly, still trying to come down to earth after the release you just had.

matt 🥷🏻🔪 ;

Gonna be there in 10 leave your doors unlocked

divider credits. @anitalenia

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[tadpolesonalgae]

Fire In His Blood

Lucien x reader

For Day 2 of @acotar-omegaverse-week - Turning Up The Heat: You seem a little flushed, darling... is everything alright?

a/n: avert your eyes

warnings: smut obviously, knotting, pussy-eating, overstim, squirting, light nipple play, spanking, praise kink, breeding kink, kinda rough sex, biting, belly bulge

word count: 3,696

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Across the room Lucien sits patronisingly silent, both eyes focused with infuriatingly faux concentration on the book clasped in his long fingers. 

Your throat rolls, a pearly bead of sweat gliding down your spine, throat rolling as you shift once more in attempts to shy from the blazing heat of the miniature furnace. If you’d also hailed from the Autumn Court you’d be singeing the carefully trimmed ends of his thick, silky hair; burning the hem off his perfectly tailored trousers that wrap themselves greedily around the mouth-watering muscles of his thighs; turning his slippers to coal. 

Perspiration gathers between your breasts, but you refuse to yield an inch. He’s used this tactic plenty of times before, and each and every one you’ve naively fallen for it; not this time. 

In the evenings when the light fades, and the air becomes cool but dry and the two of you take up your seats in the living room, windows flung wide to allow that evening breeze to sweep through the interior should the day have been too much of a struggle, he’ll do this. Slowly raise the temperature of the room, incrementally inching higher until you discard your outer layers. Then it will continue to creep higher…and higher…and higher…until there’s a dewy shine to your skin and you’re in little more than a vest and underwear. Then one thing will lead to another. 

“Your clothes are already off.” He would reason with a self-satisfied smirk, a broad palm gliding up to pause between your shoulder blades, the pads of his fingers splayed across your skin. “Might as well help you sweat out the fever.” 

Of course, it was never a fever. Nor an oddly warm night. Always Lucien Vanserra, inching up those degrees. 

On this cooler night, however, there’s a fire lit in the spacious living room, burning and crackling and sparking. A log splits, popping cavernously and you flare your skirts under the guise of rearrangement. The temporary rush of air that sweeps up your legs is welcome, but the following stagnancy is hellish. With a subtle glance to the windows, you ache for them to be open, for the curtains to be swaying in a nighttime breeze bringing in a moon-kissed wind that would soothe the burning heat of your skin, but as it is the curtains are drawn shut, trapping you within the sweltering furnace of a room. 

Breathing becomes difficult, the dry air itching at your parched throat, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth and lips sticking shut. 

When a bead of sweat rolls down your temple, your jaw grinds, pushing abruptly from the armchair to stride over to your mate. Arms fold beneath your breasts, glaring down at the cocky alpha you’d somehow thought would be a good idea to spend the rest of your life with. 

“Lucien.” His name is a sharp hiss of vehemence from your lungs, his eyes snapping from his book at the furious tone. “Cut it out.” You grit the words through a clenched jaw, nostrils flared with indignation.  

His brow raises in denial, lips parting to produce a no-doubt snarky reply, when he pauses. His pupils dilate, chest expanding on a slow and deep inhale. A few seconds pass with you stood before him, arms crossed tightly as you glare down at your alpha while he stares silently upward. Then his book closes. He doesn’t take his eyes from you as he lays it across the chair’s arm, and the heavy novel slides from the fabric, thumping to the wooden floor. 

Lucien’s attention remains on you, making the heat increase tenfold, blood scalding as it gushes through your body. 

“I said cut it out,” you pant, fury singeing at the edges, steadily disintegrating to ash as you have to drag your sleeve below your jaw, drying the dampened skin. 

Lucien’s throat rolls, irises almost entirely swallowed by the black of his pupils. “Lovely…” he tries, but you cut him off with a low hiss that boarders on a snarl. “Right now, or I’m—” 

Hot palms caress your hips before long, deft fingers curl around the sweep of bone and your pulse fumbles, spiking higher than you thought possible. Breath catches and sweat slowly slips down your inner thigh, trickling over the scalding skin—so hot you’re surprised it’s not evaporating. 

Lucien swallows again, hot mouth parting on a short breath, a fang glinting shy from beneath his lip. “That’s not…” He’s breathing heavily now, nostrils flaring delicately and his grip closes around your ribcage, fingers splaying up your back while his thumbs graze beneath the swell of your breasts. Your inhales match his, growing laboured as he stands from his seat, slowly rising higher until your head tips back, forced to crane your neck from the proximity. 

Another droplet of sweat slides down your inner thigh, meandering down until it drips over the roundness of the interior of your knee. “Turn down the heat,” you demand breathlessly, “it’s too hot.” 

“That’s not me,” he murmurs, tongue flicking over his lips, eyes refusing to remove themselves from your face. “Lu, there’s currently sweat dripping down my thighs, don’t you dare…” You trail off in a moan when hunger darkens his eyes, pulling you tight to his body and sliding those long fingers between the roundness of your ass, pushing between your legs to graze your clothed sex. “I don’t think that’s sweat, princess.” 

He spins you around faster than you can blink, pushing you down into the deep cushioning of his armchair, spreading your thighs so they hook over the arms, skirts shoved up to your hips. Firelight shudders over the burning orange room, walls alight with the heat of flame and arousal liquefies in your lower belly, hundreds of tiny butterflies fluttering wildly in your abdomen, between your legs, so much intensity your thighs begin to shake. “What-…?”

It seems Lucien’s figured it out before you, knees hitting the hardwood floor with a painful thud, fingers wrapping around and squeezing the flesh of your thighs as he pushes them closer to your chest. A shiver breaks down your spine as his fangs graze the interior of your knee, tongue dragging hotly against your skin, flicking up over that heavy droplet of— 

The growl he releases has you sinking further into arousal, leaning deeper into the instincts that are swiftly surfacing. You push your legs wider, leveraging yourself upon the arms of the chair to incline your hips, offering and begging for him to do something. 

A russet and a golden eye both flick upward and you swear you can feel them over your pussy, skating up over your breasts, nipping and tugging at your lips. Heat, they say, You’re in heat. 

You think you shake your head but you can’t be sure, not with the haze that’s descended down on your mind like a wave of fog cresting the mountains and falling to fill the valleys. 

“Lucien,” you breathe. “Lucien…” 

His nostrils fare, scenting the arousal that’s practically rolling off your body, almost vibrating with need, slick dripping from your sopping pussy. Soaking all the way through your underwear. Dampening the fabric of the cushions beneath you. 

A moan spills from your lips, hips rolling upward desperately as he tears the underwear from your body, fangs having pierced the delicate fabric, ripping them clean from your sensitive skin. His eyes are glued to your cunt, glistening in the firelight, and pulses of pleasure flutter up through your abdomen as he drags his tongue through your centre. A thick thread of slick is attached to his chin from a single lick, and he dives back almost instantly, tongue, teeth, and mouth centring at your entrance, his nose pushing against your clit and your thighs fall apart for him.

The sound of slurping bounces off the walls, his tongue practically burning as he licks you clean, swiping against the innermost parts of your thighs, trailing around the the curve of your cunt, lapping from where your ass meets the cushion to the tip of your clit. You want more. You need more. You open your thighs wider, as wide as they can go, hips bucking and rolling, rubbing against his face. Fingers lazily, weakly, thread through the length of his silky hair, feeling as it slips between your digits, perfect to grab onto—like luxury reigns. 

Your hands bunch into fists, knuckles turning white from the grip you have on him. Powerful arms band around your thighs, muscles stretching from how far you’re being pushed apart, aching from the pleasurable strain but it feels so good. The babbling moans that are falling from your throat are probably more than enough to tell him that, though. 

The orgasm rises smoothly, swiftly, dragging you under like a stray riptide as a wave passes overhead, dragged down, down, down, as breath is locked in your lungs, drowned as the pleasure pulses through your thighs, cunt fluttering as your clit aches. 

It’s not enough. 

It’s not enough. 

“Lucien.” Hands tug on his hair but his face is still buried between your thighs, tongue and teeth working hungrily, dragging up through your centre, licking up and tasting your orgasm. “Lucien. Lu. More. Please.” Your breathing is far from even, laboured and huffing from your lips, fabric rustling as laces fly free from loops, ruffles strewn from your waist and arms, flung to the floor as you surge forward to meet the firm body of your alpha. 

His palms wrap themselves in a cage around your ribs, moans and groans spilling hotly as your lips meet, arousal gleaming thickly over his mouth as his tongue dips inside. Fuck, you can feel him against your stomach, the hard outline of his cock digging into your abdomen, and he can’t have all those clothes on. Feral fingers claw at buttons, sending them flying as linen is ripped away from hot, bare skin, your tongue instantly dragging up his sternum, teeth biting hungrily at his collar bone like you might be able to feast on him. 

“Love,” he pants, hands squeezing and exploring, tracing and retracing each line of muscle, every swell of your body as if he’s blind. “Love.” It comes out as a snarl, fresh arousal bursting through your body, every spec of skin aching with acute awareness, searching for the feeling of his rough hands to satiate the keen yearning that’s itching below your flesh. 

His hand fists in your hair, tugging you back, forcing you to stare into his molten gaze, starving hunger simmering so blatantly a whimper escapes your throat. His fangs glint in the flame light, then he’s hauling you back with him, shoving you down to the floor, the impact hardly registering as he fits himself between your legs, and you can feel him. Oh gods you can feel him. 

“Lucien,” you cry, on the verge of melting into nothing. “Inside…I need you…inside, now.” 

Thigh are pushed upwards, knees to your chest, sweat trickling down the nape of your neck, dripping onto the rug below. Your eyes lock as he slides in to the hilt, the entrance swift and effortless. Wet slurping noises sound between you as your arms and legs lock around him, panting and crying as you feel him deep inside, powerful muscle hot and firm against your soft and supple form. 

Lucien groans, muscles flexing in his arms as he pulls back to look at you. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growls, jaw straining as molten iron simmers in his one russet eye. He leans closer, lips searing your own. “Perfect little omega cunt.” 

Your eyes flutter, grinding sloppily against one another, hips rolling and bucking lazily, not yet focused enough to organise your movements. His cock rubs against your walls, pushing a bulge into your stomach and your toes curl. “Lucien…I— I need—”

“I know what you need,” he growls, palms splaying across the carpet as he pushes himself up, firelight kissing sun-warmed skin. “And—fuck—I’m right here.” 

A loud moan is shoved from your chest as he pulls back and slams in, pleasure knocking the breath from your lungs, and you don’t think you’ll be able to live through this if he doesn’t let you take his knot. 

You need his knot. 

Need to feel it swelling inside of you, locking you so firmly in place as he releases into you, making sure you can’t pull off him when he unloads inside of your sweet, dripping pussy. Not until you’re dripping his cum down your thighs from being stuffed full, so full— 

Lucien hits a spot than has your nails scraping and scratching his back, clawing hungrily as your arms shake, needing to feel him inside of you, spilling into your cunt, filling you up until you can’t move without some of him dripping out. Lucien curses under his breath, hips stuttering as he feels you tighten around him, sucking him deeper into your wet heat. “Such a perfect cunt,” he groans, hips rolling roughly to your own, bucking sharply as instinct demands he give and give and give. “So fucking pretty. So fucking prefect of you.” 

Your eyes flutter, and you’re coming, squeezing his cock tight, hips bucking as your clit grazes his abdomen, thunder and lightening storming in your veins, fuelling the fire that’s burning between the two of you. 

Lucien releases a deep-throated groan, bordering on a growl as he feels you fluttering around him. His brows furrow, eyes shutting as he pants, basking in the aftershocks of your cunt. “Feels so good,” he mutters, hot breath fanning across your throat, fangs scratching faintly, promising more. “Gods, I could stay in you forever.” 

“More,” you urge, thighs squeezing him, hips already bucking against his despite having just orgasmed. “Lu, please. Need your knot. Need it inside of me.” 

“If that’s what you want…” 

You whimper with pleasure as he rolls onto his back, bringing you with him so you’re straddling his hips. Tears slip from your lashes as gravity pulls you down on his cock, his tip pressing against that spot that… 

Your palms splay across his chest, his hands gripping your hips tight, cock nestled deep inside your dripping cunt. “Lu…” you start, but his grip tightens on you, lifting you sharply from his hips only to slam you down, bucking up to meet you. Your spine arches with the surge of pleasure, teetering along the line of overstimulation…but that’s exactly what you need. To be shaking, trembling, sobbing. Need to hardly know up from down, and still have him pounding your pussy, filling you up. 

His hips buck, and your nails push against his skin. “There…!” You pant breathlessly, “right there…!” Lucien angles your hips, keeping you from moving away. “Here?” 

“Yes…yes, yes, yes!” 

Your breathing falters as you feel a swell at the base of his cock, noting how his chest is lined with tension…you begin bouncing, vibrating with pleasure when you feel him swell, grow larger, and larger…and… You whimper, wiggling your hips faintly, nestling down on him as you feel his knot lodge inside of you perfectly. Lucien groans, and you know he’s undeniably close. Close to spurting loads of cum into your pretty pussy, his knot keeping you locked on top of him as he finishes…you can’t wait for it. 

“Lu…” you whine softly, bringing your body to a still, fingers half-wrapping around his wrists, encouraging them higher. “Touch me…please…” 

“You want more?” The laugh he releases is strained to say the least, but his russet eye is glinting with hunger. “Greedy little omega. Isn’t that right?” Your teeth find placement in your lip, nodding eagerly as a lazy smile curves your lips. “Greedy…so greedy, Lu.”  

“Want my cock and my knot, huh?” 

“So badly.” You arch into his touch as he palms your breasts, grazing the pads of his fingers over your sensitive nipples. “So, so badly.” 

“Mhmm. So if I do…” Fingers pinch at your nipples, hips rolling up to meet yours, grinding against you so his knot rubs against those sensitive inner walls. 

Lucien chuckles as your eyes roll, hands falling away from his wrists, barely holding yourself upright on his cock. “Please…” you whisper, swirling your hips, tightening around him in encouragement. Urging him to finish inside of you. “Want to take it…” 

“You think you can?” He taunts, bucking upward sharply. 

“Mhmm. I can…”

“And you’re gonna do it…?”

“Well! …so well,” you pant. “Please…!”

A smirk curves his mouth, and you hungrily slide over him, lips pushing together as you moan into the sloppy mess of a kiss. His palm connects with you ass, squeezing appreciatively, soothing the sore skin before pulling back and spanking you again. Curses are muttered over your lips, Lucien feeling how you tighten around him with every impact, his canines nipping at your lips, his own still tasting of your arousal. 

“You’re going to be a good girl and take it? All of it?” A nod, followed by a hard spank. 

“My sweet little omega? Desperate for my cock? Not going to complain or whine when it gets too much because she doesn’t know her own limits?” Another nod, another spank. 

“Gonna take everything you can? No complaints? Not gonna brat about how it’s too much when you love it being too much?” An eager whimper, followed by a firm and final spank. 

“I won’t…I’ll take it…I’ll be perfect…!” 

“Such a good girl,” he praises, russet eye twinkling with male satisfaction, pride shining in his blown-out pupils. His fingers flex around your hips, readjusting his hold. “Have it.”

Together, you lift as far as you can go and slide down, swiftly finding motion and rhythm that works—you finding what you like, and Lucien carrying your movements with his grip, following whatever direction you choose. 

Both of you curse as he reaches his peak, feeling his knot pulse inside of you, feeling all of him inside of you, releasing, spurting hot cum, unloading himself deep into your cunt. Euphoria floods your body, heart fluttering in your chest. Your head tips back, hips swirling over him, Lucien’s hands pressing you down tight to him. Cock nestled deep, cum releasing deeper. 

Power crackles through the air, magic blazing from within his chest, the very tips of his fingertips glowing with red-hot brightness, russet burning the colour of freshly forged steel as pleasure courses through his body. 

Breath is knocked from you however, when he flips you over. 

You gasp at the sensitivity, shuddering with overstimulation, sweat surely beading down your spine. Is he—? “Lucien!” 

His hands grip your hips tight, his knees between your own on the rug, your palms flat against the soft fur and tears line your eyes as he pulls himself out, knot deflated enough for him to slip away. 

And slam back in to the hilt. 

The force knocks you forward, arms giving out beneath you as he pounds your poor pussy, slick coating your thighs—his, too—as it continues dripping, spilling from where you’re joined. One hand snakes between your legs, the pad of his middle finger effortlessly locating your clit, and you squirm as he begins circling it—mean, tight circles than make your muscles lock. 

Pleas fall from your lips, begging for more, for less, to go slower, to go harder, to fill you up, to full out, to fuck your mouth, to fuck your pussy, to come on your tongue, to spill more inside of you…to fuck you into babbling, sobbing mess of pleasure, arousal, and come.

“That’s it,” he soothes, curving over your arched back, heat pressing into your spine. “You’re taking it so well. Let me keep you full, yeah?” 

You moan your desperation, nodding your head as much as you can, feeling heat boil and bubble within your core, having trouble dealing with all of his stimulation…and with another knot forming… Gods, this. This is perfect. This is what you need. Every minute of every hour of every day for the next week. Maybe more. 

Lucien pulls himself upright so the hand that was bracing him on the rug can drop to the slick interior of your knee, gripping tight as his fingers wrap a good way around the circumference of your thigh, cocking your leg. You drool into the carpet as he fucks you deeper into the pleasure, knot swelling larger, larger than before, once again locking you tight together, except this time his fingers are rubbing against your clit and you sob as you reach your peak. 

Pleasure unlatches within you, and you feel as liquid pleasure releases onto him, gushing as he hits those spots again, and again, and again. Fucking you into an oblivion of ecstasy. 

In the back of your mind you can hear the breathless praises falling from his mouth. Telling you how perfect you are, how well you’re taking his cock, how full you’re going to be by the time he’s done with you. And sure enough you can feel him spurting into you, releasing himself deep inside your cunt. 

You’re a panting, sweating mess beneath him—both of you are, really. Skin glistening before the hearth, flame flickering its heat onto the walls. You’re far too sensitive to be moving, the aftershocks still fluttering through your overstimulated cunt, and yet part of you wants Lucien to roll you back on top of him and start slamming you down again, pounding into you until you’re orgasming again, feeling his knot swell inside, keeping you together. 

Teeth prod into your lower lip, tilting your head to one side. Together sounds good. Joined; locked; tied. 

Your throat rolls as Lucien’s tongue licks up the side of your neck, a low growl rumbling in his chest where instincts are ordering him to bite, searching for the spot he likes. And when his fangs find those marks, the rightness of your unity floods you with pleasure, weakly pushing back against him so his cock remains tight inside of you. 

Gods, a week of this…fucking heaven. 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna

[dreamescapeswriting]

Lights Out ~ JJk

⤜WORD COUNT:2.7K

⤜PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Girl!Best friend

⤜GENRE: smut. Pure filth MINORS DNI, includes tit sucking, tit kink, threesome, oral (both giving and receiving) tit play, ice play (on nipples) hope this is okay for you my love, unprotected sex

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

This content is a work of fiction and is meant for entertainment only!!! All content is made for 18+ only. No one was harmed in the making of this fictional piece, all parties were consenting and above the age of 18.

The sun blazed mercilessly over Seoul, casting an oppressive heat that seemed to suffocate every inch of air that was available. Even with the AC running it still didn't feel like enough for you to breathe properly. Jungkook lay sprawled on his bed, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he tried to force his body to relax, he'd decided to do a small workout and was now regretting the decision to even move from his bed that morning. The ceiling fan whirred feebly above him, doing little to alleviate the stifling heat that had invaded every corner of his bedroom. He sighed, lazily reaching for the glass of water on his nightstand, only to find it empty.

In the living room, the sound of laughter and animated conversation drifted in. You were sitting with your best friend Jihyo, lounging on the couch, their voices a comforting hum in the background. Despite the heat, the two of you were in high spirits, trying to make the best of an unbearably hot day. The windows were thrown wide open in a desperate attempt to catch any semblance of a breeze, but the air was stagnant, heavy with humidity making it damn near impossible for any fresh air to fly through.

"You have told him I don't bite right?" Jiyho laughs as she looks at you. Jungkook had decided to give the two of you some space while you had her around to the apartment that day despite you telling him he was more than welcome to join you both.

"He says I need 'girl time' with you," You giggled, shaking your head as you remembered Jungkook's face when you told him he could join you. He wanted to but he also wanted you to have a nice morning with your friend while he stayed out of the way.

"He's one of us now," She giggles a little but the lights flickered ominously before plunging the apartment into darkness. A collective groan echoed through the space as the sudden silence signalled the loss of the fan’s gentle hum and the whir of the refrigerator. Soon the AC shut itself down and that one bit of coldness you'd experienced was ripped away from you leaving you in a hot mess.

"No, no, no!" Jihyo exclaimed, her voice rising in dismay, she stared around at the lights waiting for them to come back on but nothing did. 

"The power's out!" You glanced around, your eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains, you knew that it was likely coming since the AC had been struggling all week to deal with the overwhelming amount of work it was going through all week thanks to everyone using it. 

"Great, just what we needed," you muttered, but your tone was more resigned than upset. Jihyo began to fan her shirt away from her body, whimpering a little as it stuck to her body thanks to the sweat that was now leaking from her body.

"Mind if I take it off?" She asked you, your eyes landing on her as you shook your head at her. It wouldn't be the first time the two of you had stripped off in front of each other. Hell, the two of you had seen each other naked more times than either of you could even count.

"Not at all." You giggled unbuttoning your own shirt and revealing the black bra you'd been sporting since that morning, throwing your shirt onto the armchair on the other side of the room as Jihyo did the same revealing her bright purple bra. 

"Damn, did they get bigger?" She gasps at you, running her fingers over your bra and making your back shiver a little as you let out a small whine, your cheeks heating up at the sudden attention from her. 

"I think so," You laughed a little as she smirked at you, slowly taking off the rest of her clothes, you joining her, until the two of you were sat in nothing but your underwear and yet it still felt too hot for even that.

The two of you sat there together practically naked as you let out a small whine, it was doing nothing to cool you down and you were starting to get a little bored.

"Jungkook, are you okay in there?" You called out, your voice carrying a note of concern as you realised he hadn't even come out to talk to you about the power going.

"Yeah, just trying not to melt," Jungkook replied, forcing a chuckle. He ran a hand through his damp hair and decided it was time to join the two of you out there. It had to be a little cooler out there than it was in the bedroom at least. Maybe your energy would be contagious, and he could forget about the sweltering heat for a while. But as he stepped out of his room, his gaze landed on the two of you as the breath was knocked from his lungs.

He hadn't expected to come out to see the two of you standing there in next to no clothing and he bit down on his tongue. Doing his best not to make it weird, he sat down on the armchair and looked over at you.

"Well, looks like we're all in this together," he said with a wry smile, you could read him like a book and you knew exactly what seeing the two of you like this together was doing to him. 

"Any ideas on how to survive this heatwave without power?" His voice cracked a little and he moved one of the pillows to his lap, his erection only growing harder as you bent over and reached for your cup of water, squeezing your tits together more and driving him up the wall.

Jihyo grinned despite the situation, your boyfriend's growing hard-on hadn't gone unnoticed between the two of you and she squeezed your hand teasingly. 

"We could tell ghost stories to distract ourselves from the heat. Or, better yet, find some ice and have a cold drink contest." She suggested but it only made your mind wander as she bought up "ice" and you couldn't stop the smirk from growing.

"I can think of a better idea for the ice if you're okay with it?" You suggested, your eyes finding hers as you had a silent conversation with one another.

"Back when we were in Uni we did it," She smirked already knowing where your mind was going with it.

"Baby, can you go and get me some ice?" You turned your focus on Jungkook who nodded, carefully getting up and heading to the freezer as you giggled with Jihyo slowly reaching up her back. 

"You're okay with this?" You asked, your voice coming out low as she let out of soft whine and nodded her head,

"Fuck yes," She whispered as you unclasped her bra, leaving her tits completely exposed as you slowly licked your lip, your best friend was hot there was no denying that and you were attracted to her. Not that you'd ever do anything now that you were with Jungkook but the two of you had done plenty together in the past.

"Your turn," She giggles, leaning down and kissing the top of your breast before exposing you to the world, throwing your bra in the direction of the kitchen having it land in front of Jungkook who was standing there. His face was now the colour of a tomato as he stared at you both, your huge tits just sitting there as he let out a low groan.

"It was too hot," You gasp out, exaggerating a little as you pull Jungkook to sit on the sofa beside you, you slowly take an ice cube from the tray he was holding and place it in your mouth. 

"Yn." He whimpered a little, watching intently as you leant down toward Jihyo's breasts and began to trail the ice cube from the nape of her neck right down to her nipples, sending them hard within seconds as she let out a strangled gasp at the cold sensation running through her.

"Fuck that's good," She moans out, rolling her head back against the sofa and arching her back toward you a little. You glanced over at Jungkook to make sure this was okay but he was already rubbing his cock through his shorts making you smirk at him. 

"We could pass some time," You whisper as you take the ice cube from your lips, slowly trailing it over Jihyo's other nipple as she let out a string of curse words. 

"D-Doing what?" Jungkook's voice cracked a little, his eyes never straying from Jihyo's breasts but you didn't mind as you giggled a little. 

"You know what," You whined leaning down to her tit, taking her nipple into your mouth and sucking softly as you used your other hand to play with the other. Moans filled the room as Jihyo cried your name out and ran her hands down your back, pulling you closer to her body. 

"Jungkook," She whimpered as she watched him rubbing his cock through his shorts,

"Join us," She whispered, as you smirked around her nipple, biting down softly as she let out a loud scream of your name and whimpered a little at you. 

"Evil, bitch." She hissed out as you left her without your mouth, turning your attention to your boyfriend who looked like he was trying to sus out if this was real or not.

"Baby...Do you want to join us?" Your fingers slowly trailed up his thigh until your hand was over his hard cock, rubbing softly as he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut.

"N-Not a dream, not a dream." He moaned out in ecstasy as you giggled at his innocence.

"No baby, not a dream." You confirmed, slowly undoing the tie of his shorts and freeing him from them.

"Jesus, now I know why you struggle to walk for a while," Jihyo whined as she saw the length of Jungkook's cock on full display, precum already leaking down his shaft as you giggled. 

"Fuck that's hot," You moaned out as you gently run your index finger along the underneath of his dick, watching in amusement as he twitched as you got to the tip of his dick.

"Does seeing us together get you hard baby?" You whispered, your free hand starting to rub Jihyo's tit as she ran her fingers down your nipples, squeezing them softly. Jungkook's cock twitched and he nodded frantically at you both.

"I know what will get him harder," Jihyo whispers as she leans down and takes your left breast into her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue around your nipple as you let out a moan of her name. 

Jungkook soon leaned down on your right nipple and did the same, his eyes locked onto Jihyo's as he paid attention to her movements on what she was doing.

"S-Shit," You stuttered out as you looked down at them both, your moans getting louder as they continued to suck and tug on your nipples.

"Shit baby didn't know you liked it this much," Jungkook chuckled as he kissed your breast,

"Fuck it's so good." You pant, looking at him as he took your breast back into his mouth and sucked harsher this time.

Jungkook had always been a tit man which was why he rarely came out of his room whenever you and Jihyo were around together. How could he? The two of you had huge breasts and he didn't want you to get upset if he stared too long. 

"I-I want you to fuck me." You whimper a little, looking at Jungkook who was licking his lips. Jihyo smirked at you, sucking harshly on your nipple as she felt herself getting wetter at the thought of it. 

"Are you sure?" Jungkook whispered, looking at you with lust in his eyes. It was almost every guy's dream to get into a situation like this and as much as he wanted to dive in head first, he wanted to make sure this was something you were comfortable with.

"Never been so sure in my life," You moan out, rubbing his cock softly in your hands as he let out a strangled moan of your name.

"You better be a good little whore and get on your hands and knees then," He smirked, his dominating side coming out through his words as you squeezed your thighs together.

"Where do you want me baby?" Jihyo whispered to you as you watched her kneeling in front of you,

"L-Lay below me, let me eat you out while he fucks me," You smirk as she kissed down your neck, her hands squeezing and rubbing your tits as Jungkook positioned himself behind you.

"Don't need these anymore," He grunts, practically ripping the fabric from your hips and throwing it down to the ground making you whine at him.

"Those were new," You pouted as Jihyo giggled, sucking on your neck softly.

"He can buy you more later, baby." She coos, your lips meeting hers in a messy make-out session, only making Jungkook's cock harder as he watched the two of you.

"Don't blow your load yet, Jungkook. She wants to feel you," Jihyo tuts, smirking as she lays down below you and sucks on your clit making your knees buckle a little.

"F-Fuck Jihyo," You whine out as she continues to suck on your clit, 

"Her tight cunt knows who it belongs to." Jungkook growls, the tip of his dick at the entrance of your pussy making you roll your hips back for more from him.

"Ask nicely," Jihyo and Jungkook said in unison making your head roll back in ecstasy. 

"Please, I need it." You whined out, not having it in you to be teased tonight. Without a second thought, Jungkook slowly pushed into you until he was buried deep inside of you, your back arching deeply as you felt him at the deepest parts of you.

"Shit," You cry out, pulling Jihyo's legs open and ripping her underwear off her body the same way Jungkook had done to you.

"Someone's needy," She giggles as you pull her toward you, pushing your tongue deep into her cunt and making her moan out loudly. In return her lips found your clit once again and she started sucking in time of Jungkook's rough thrusts. 

The three of you moved in perfect time with one another, every time Jungkook sped up you did too. Thrusting two fingers into Jihyo as she cried out your name, her fingers gripping your hips as she sucked on your clit.

"J-Jungkook." You panted, clenching around him as he continued to fuck into you roughly. The sight of you eating out your best friend sent him wild as his thrusts began to get erratic. 

"You gonna cum baby? You wanna cum all over my cock?" He moans out loudly, holding your hips in place as he ploughed into you from behind. The combined thrusts from him and sucking from Jihyo sent your head into a frenzy and you could barely form the words to agree with him.

"D-Don't stop! F-Fuck, I'm right there." You begged, as your orgasm began to build. Jihyo's back arched as you moaned against her clit, cumming around your fingers and over your face. The action sent Jungkook reeling as he frantically sped up inside of you,

"F-Fuck, Yn! Shit, Jihyo." He cries out as you cum around his cock, whimpering loudly as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm until he came deep inside of you, holding himself perfectly still as you looked up at him from below. 

"T-That was so good," You whine out, Jungkook opened his mouth to speak but the sound of the AC turning back on and the lights flickering back on stopped him as you all let out soft giggles.

"I guess it really did pass some time," Jihyo laughs as she slides out from under you and watches as you slide away from Jungkook letting out a small whimper at the loss of contact,

"Who wants ice cream?" Jihyo grins, rushing to your freezer as you giggled, leaning your head on Jungkook whose cheeks were flaming red.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @tinyoonsblog @whitefoxgirl @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @wolfgurl2600 @choisoorin @heyjiminnie @btsiguess-kpop @alicejustwakeup @halesandy @gothic4under4lord @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lenfilms @elizaschuyler18 @whitefoxgirl

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

🔮A True Love Of Mine 🔮

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

tags: SFW, storms, fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, fear of thunder, love confessions, revelations, sleepy cuddles, lilia cuddles, palm reading

wc: ~ 4.1 k

summary: On your way home from town, you get caught in the rain and find shelter at Madame Calderu's Psychic Readings. That night, you learn things about yourself you never would've imagined.

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

The storm hit earlier than expected. You'd gone into town to stock up on ultrasonic cleaning solution and clock oil for your father as you did every other week—the walk wasn't too long and the scenery pretty—only today, the world was ending.

Or so it felt as you pushed forth through the wind lashing in your face and waded through the water that went up to your ankles and had soaked through into your lace-up boots. The raindrops pierced your face like needles, and your coat hung like seaweed from your shoulders, long and heavy, and had ceased to provide any kind of warmth. You made it down the road, cautious of the trees for they might fall, and reached a row of shops.

A nail salon, a shop with pool supplies, and between them, Madame Calderu's Psychic Readings. Since the nail salon was closed and the other shop didn't make the friendliest of impressions, you decided to try and find shelter with the psychic.

Water dripped from the ends of your hair, your nose, and your chin, and you felt like a wet dog. You just hoped you didn't smell like one, too. You approached the glass door, dusty as were the large shop windows, and pushed it open.

A bell chimed above your head, and thick oven warmth embraced you. It was a relief to your shaking, chilled form, and for a moment, you didn't take in anything else but this.

When you opened your eyes again, an array of plants greeted you, which you assumed the owner must've brought in when the storm had reared its ugly face. The interior was colourful, filled to the brim with crystals and knickknacks, with grand drapes on every window, one of which had been decorated with shards of painted glass hung up on a thread. It was so unlike your father's workshop with its dark, antique furniture, the grandfather clocks, the worn carpet—despite your best efforts to bring life into it with some fairy lights and lace tablecloth. This looked homey and inviting.

...unlike the owner, who stepped through the beaded curtain that separated the shop from her private quarters, you assumed, looking nothing short of intimidating.

And there you were, dripping on her Persian rug.

"Um... M-madame C-c-calderu?" you stuttered with chattering teeth.

You expected to get yelled at by the older lady, but the moment she realised you were soaked to the bone, she slipped off her knitted cardigan and rushed to you, muttering, "Oh, honey, oh honey."

She laid it around your shoulders and rubbed your upper arms with her warm, wrinkled hands. "You're drenched, dear." She studied your face with knitted eyebrows. "And your lips are blue, Divine Mother..."

One of her grey curls that framed her face bounced whenever she moved her head. She must be in her seventies, but was still exceptionally beautiful.

"May I—wait out the—s-storm here?" you asked, on the verge of tears from how frozen you were. The tip of your nose, your fingers, your toes—they all ached as if they were about to fall off.

"What a silly question!" She ushered you to sit in a floral-patterned armchair surrounded by countless candles. "I'll get you some dry clothes, girl."

And off she went, through the beaded curtain again, and you sat trying not to freeze to death. The storm raged outside, sent everything that wasn't fixed flying across the road, and bent the trees to breaking. It was early in the evening, but the dense clouds had darkened the sky as if it were almost night.

You set your shopping bag on the ground and rubbed your palms over your thighs to warm them up. Madame Calderu returned a moment later with a folded stack of clothes and towels and set them down on the side table, handing you a towel first and taking one herself.

"Dry up as best as you can and then slip into these. They're from when I was younger," she chuckled, "so might fit you somewhat."

"Thank you so much," you said, and she gave you a warm smile that made your heart squeeze.

It was nothing compared to the leap it made when she began to dry your hair for you while you dragged the towel across your arms and chest. She wrapped the ends of your long, dirty blonde waves up and wrung them out. With her own unruly curls, she must know how to care for hair properly. Her fingers moved to your scalp and massaged it with the towel, and you almost moaned at the feeling.

"Better now, darling?" She stepped back in front of you, and you missed her touch already, but nodded.

"Much."

"Then get changed while I make tea." She took the wet towels with her and turned over her shoulder to say, "Come to the back when you're done."

-> continue

[hauntedbysmut]

Dark Desires

Tags: voyeurism, masturbation, mentions of violence (not against FMC), PIV, creampie

Full fic below the cut or you can take the link.

Darkness had fully blanketed Linkon by the time your hurried steps took you to your apartment building’s doors. A last minute mission with a particularly stubborn Wanderer had demolished your plan to get home early to call Caleb for your nightly chat. Taking another anxious look at your phone, the 8 missed calls and 13 unanswered texts from him glared menacingly from the apps on your screen. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck, knowing that the sheer number of notifications was a bad omen when it came to your rather unpredictable and possessive boyfriend.

Boyfriend. A new label he had given himself the last time he visited, not content to be introduced as a friend anymore, especially around your friends and other men. It wasn’t enough that he owned your mind and body, he wanted everyone to know it, too. Heaven forbid any coworkers saw you as a potential love interest. The thought alone made you swallow heavily.

Pressing the elevator button repeatedly in hopes it would come down faster, your heart began to pound for an entirely different reason. You had spent the whole day teasing him in between work missions. Knowing he was coming back from his own mission this afternoon, you’d had the bright idea to send him some tasteful nude photos you took this past weekend and rather sexual texts, all with the intent for him to see them as soon as he landed and was within range to receive them again. Build up for tonight’s call. Then work ran late… and here you were, trapped in the lobby of your building, praying to gods who probably weren’t listening to get you into your apartment as fast as possible.

The sudden ding of the elevator doors opening in front of you drove you to action and you quickly entered, pressed your floor’s number, and spammed the “close door” button. Your foot tapped nervously on the tiled floor as the elevator finally began its ascent, floors seemingly passing slower and slower the closer you got. Dashing from the elevator seconds after it landed on your floor, you ran down the hall to your apartment and jammed your finger onto the sensor.

“Error. Please try again.” Sighing heavily, you pressed your finger down more firmly.

“Error. Please try again.”

“Come ON!” Your frustration was beginning to boil over as you pressed your finger down one more time, rolling it back and forth lightly on the pad to get it to read. With the small chime of success and a quick press of the doorknob, you stumbled in your front door. The entryway light dimly lit your path as you hurriedly threw down your bag and unlaced and removed your boots. Free of your shoes and bag, you padded into your living room, stopping suddenly as a small gasp escaped your lips.

With only a light glow from his phone screen and the entryway light shining on him, Caleb sat menacingly in the darkness of your living room. The armchair he rested in belayed a comfortable relaxation, but his face was anything but. “Caleb?” You craned your neck to look at him more closely, taking a couple of steps forward in an attempt to see him better.

He was leaned back in the chair, still wearing his uniform pants, which you noticed were undone at the top, as if he had released the button to give himself more room to breathe. His bare chest and abs shone with a light red tint from the mingling lights, casting him in a sinister glow, the shadows playing against the divots and curves of his body, and on his head, his colonel’s hat rested as if he had just come off duty. The metallic glint of his right arm winked from the armrest while his left hand rested against his face, just below his lips. He was smiling. Your legs trembled. Even knowing him as he was now, intimidating and taciturn, he could still make your body react with primal fear at times when caught off guard. His eyes took you in, one detail at a time, resting on each part of your body as if looking for some grave injury or illness that may have caused your delay. Finding nothing, his eyes hardened further.

“Welcome home, pip-squeak. Long day?”

Your eyes were locked on his, watching for any change in expression or twitch in his powerful body. Your legs were tense and ready to run at a moment’s notice. When none came, you shifted from one foot to the other, crossed your arms protectively across your chest, and answered him. “I had a mission that ran long. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” You paused briefly for any reaction. Nothing. “I thought we were video calling tonight?”

He hummed briefly. “That was the original plan, wasn’t it?” He swiped on his screen and your eyes snagged on a familiar photo. Your mouth dropped open in shock. Noting your reaction, he continued to swipe through the nudes you had sent him today. Despite his slow perusal, his eyes were still on you, a predator watching his prey. “Bold of you to send me such sensitive information when I could have pulled these up by accident in front of anyone.” His eyes glinted as his head tilted toward his left hand, still resting against his chin. “What exactly was your plan for us this evening when you sent these pictures?”

Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, and you swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “I assumed we could spend some time on a video call together.”

He quirked an eyebrow. His smile hadn’t faltered this entire time. Your stomach roiled with butterflies at the lewd thoughts you’d shared via text with him today. “You were going to make me watch?” His voice was so soft, but the undercurrent spoke of danger. Goosebumps broke out along your arms and his keen eyes seemed to notice.

“No?” Your uncertain tone coupled with an apologetic smile had his smile sliding off of his face.

“You’re lying, pip-squeak.” He closed the phone screen, pitching both of you into a deeper darkness. The entryway light’s glow was only so strong this far away. He shifted in the chair, leaning forward until his arms rested on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared up at you from under the brim of his hat. His eyes were so dark they looked almost black, pupils expanded over the usually brilliant purple of his irises.

“Caleb,” you whispered. Another tremor rocketed up your spine and he smiled with predatory intent as he noticed your light shaking. He was like a viper coiled to strike, and you, a harmless mouse, were about to become his meal.

“Scared?” He stood up slowly, taking deliberately measured steps toward you. Despite your instinct to step back, you stood your ground, tightening your arms banded in front of your chest and staring up at him defiantly.

“As if.” Your voice wavered slightly, and internally, you berated yourself for how weak you sounded.

His left hand moved toward your face, brushing a strand of hair that had come loose from your braid back behind your ear. His fingertips grazed your neck as he let his hand trail downward, and another small shiver moved through you at the gentle but intimate touch. Struck stock still, you breathed in short bursts as his head moved forward, leaning down to your neck rather than your face.

His quiet chuckle brushed your ear as his nose bumped your pulse point. He lifted his head and you could feel his lips moving against your earlobe as he whispered, “Such brave words for such a scared little bird.” His left hand came up to snake around your waist, pulling you in closer to him, your feet making stuttered steps as he dragged your torso closer to his own.

You squeezed your arms tightly with your hands as the pressure of his body increased against yours. Much like his evol, Caleb was like gravity, ensnaring you in his orbit whether you wanted to be or not. His face continued its sensory trail along your neck and jawline before his mouth returned to your ear.

“Someone saw me open one of your pictures,” he began. Your eyes widened and a rush of air escaped your mouth. You turned your face toward him abruptly.

“What?!”

His eyes met yours, and they were flinty and hard. His voice was just as dark and angry. “Don’t worry, I made sure he wouldn’t see ever again.” You squirmed in his grip and untangled your arms, trying to push him away. His arm was like a steel band around your middle though, and you were unable to get any kind of distance.

“Caleb, did you kill him?” You searched for any kind of answer and when he didn’t say anything, you pushed against his chest again. “Caleb!”

His hands moved so quickly that you were unable to stop him before he gave you a couple of shakes, hands repositioned on your upper arms. “Nobody gets to see you like that but me. Do you understand?”

You shook your head and hit his chest with your fist repeatedly as you demanded an answer again. “Did. You. Kill. Him!”

Exasperation suddenly burst out of him, “Why do you care? He saw parts of you only I am allowed to see! Has someone else ever received those kinds of pictures from you?” He watched you closely to see if your expression would give the answer away. “Because if there are others, I want to know. NOW.”

You set your jaw stubbornly and shook your head.

His expression relaxed slightly. “Good.” He used his grip on your arms to place them over his shoulders, moving in as closely as he could be to your body. “You’re mine, pipsqueak. Say it.”

Despite the turmoil in your head, the knowledge that he had probably ended someone’s life just because they looked his way at the wrong time and had seen you, you couldn’t ignore the dark, twisted pull you still felt towards him. A single tear slid down your cheek at the realization that you were just as dark and twisted if you could still accept him like this. If you were still willing to be with him even if he would have you no matter the cost. He wiped the tear from your cheek with gentle precision, pressing his forehead against yours, his hat pressing up into his hair, and tilting his head back and forth while he waited for your answer. “Say it,” he murmured, his lips mere centimeters from your own.

You wished you were stronger, that this insane, unbreakable connection didn’t make you feel so out of control and trapped, but simultaneously totally whole. “I’m yours.” Your whispered confession brought his lips down on yours, the previously curbed affection bursting forth like a freed bullet, piercing your heart. You had lost him once. You knew you wouldn’t survive that again. You would take him in any form. If that meant accepting the new darkness that seemed to surround him, you’d do it. Neither of you would be alone ever again.

Your mouths met over and over in a frenzy, and in an effort to appease him, you opened your mouth and touched your tongue to his lips. He groaned into you as his tongue met yours, his dominance rising as he pressed into your mouth with reckless abandon. His hands were firmly locked around your back, bodies flattened against each other as you held on to his neck, legs straining as you pressed onto your tip-toes to be as close to him as possible.

He gave you a sudden nip to your lower lip and shoved you backwards onto the couch. Your arms slapped into the cushions as you braced yourself on impact. “Take off your clothes.” He stood above you, fixing his hat back onto his head. Eager to obey, you pulled at your clothes, unbuttoning your pants and shucking them down your legs, snagging your underwear with them. You peeled your socks from your feet and then ripped your shirt off over your head. Your clothes flung around the room as you hastily discarded them, bra following, Caleb stepped back to the armchair, sitting back down and resuming the position he had been in when you came home.

Panting and dripping across from him, you stared, waiting for his next order. You shivered in the sudden lack of his presence, cool air rushing around your body from your furious disrobing. Your nipples pebbled and strained into the semi-darkness. A brighter light flared to life in Caleb’s view, the screen of his phone lighting up the space marginally and causing your eyes to strain.

“Caleb?” You looked at him with confusion, a blush staining your cheeks red as his right hand clicked a few buttons on his screen.

“Since you wanted me to watch, I’m going to watch.” His smile caused your stomach to flip flop.

“Why is your phone on?”

“Because I’m going to record you.” You inhaled suddenly, pulse sky-rocketing at the implication. He let his eyes drag along your damp, tensed body, and dragged the pointer finger of his left hand through the seam of his lips. “That way, whenever I can’t be with you, I can watch you make a mess of yourself while you scream my name and know that I’m the only one who gets to do this to you. The only one who can touch you or watch you fall apart.” His hand fell from his lips and squeezed his cock through his pants. The dark outline of his length strained against his pants, the tip just below the edge of his underwear, peaking out of the unzipped crotch. “I’m going to direct you, love, and like the good girl I know you are, you’re going to listen, aren’t you?”

Without letting you respond, you watched as his right hand pushed the red record button and swallowed heavily. This felt so wrong, yet so hot. Getting to see how you affected him, knowing he would use this video later to touch himself and come all over his hand watching you, turned you on so much. A little moan slipped past your lips as the mental picture of him stroking himself roughly to your video played in your mind.

“That’s it, baby.” His encouragement reminded you of your new mission, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Sit all the way back on the couch.” You shifted until your back was against the cushions, legs slightly dangling off the ground. “Now pull your feet up until you’ve got them both on the couch in front of you.” One leg at a time, you pulled your legs up until they were folded in front of your body, acting like a barrier between his eyes and your naked flesh. “Shift your feet outward a bit so I can see that pretty pussy.” You could feel your cheeks flaming at his request, knowing your wet lips would soon be visible to the camera and his greedy eyes. You dragged one foot out a few inches before repeating it with the other, letting your knees fall together in the center and biting your lip. Your face felt so hot, and the weight of his gaze on you was like a palpable force, even with him being feet away.

He groaned as he shifted, the brush of fabric against fabric your only hint that he was moving at all. “Spread your knees, baby.” You tucked your head against your chest, taking a deep breath, then gradually letting your knees fall apart. Caleb licked his lips. The way your arms were positioned next to you pressed your breasts together. A subtle pink tint warmed your skin with a mixture of your arousal and embarrassment, and the camera’s light gave your moistened lower lips a gorgeous glow. “Fuck, look at you.” His voice was like crushed velvet, so soft and supple it felt like a caress against your heated skin. “Take two fingers and drag them through your lips for me.” With a full view of his face, watching as his eyes took you in, your excitement mounted. You took a hand and dragged it across your stomach, knowing his ears were picking up every hitched breath, every tiny response your body made, even as his hand squeezed his erection erratically. You wanted to make him lose control.

Even though he hadn’t told you to, you let your other hand shift up and grasp a breast, eyes fluttering shut as you palmed it and then squeezed a nipple between two fingers. Your other hand continued its quest downward, playing in your curled pubic hair and spreading over your labias before you dragged them back up to your pubic bone to slide between your cleft together. The brief stimulation over your clit as your fingers moved made your knees twitch, and as you whined, Caleb hissed through his teeth. You dipped your fingers into your soaking hole, spreading the slick up and down your lips.

“Oh yessss…” He was mesmerized as you pulled your fingers out before plunging them back in. He sat up a little straighter, hand still gripping his dick through his pants, eyes locked on your fingers, even as your back arched from the stimulation you were giving your breasts. “Show them to me.” The need in his voice made you clench on nothing, the noticeable absence of him sending several pleasurable clenches through your core. You lifted your hand and spread your fingers, the fluid on them shining in the low light and stretching between them. You watched as his hips bucked up against his immobile hand, control beginning to slip away as he was riveted by your show. His right arm clenched the armrest as if to keep him from moving toward you, anchoring him in place. A thrill of power despite your submission sang through your bones, and you brought the fingers to your mouth, licking deliberately between them before popping them both into your mouth and sucking them clean.

You knew that this was a dangerous game. At any moment, he could snap and be on you, but for now, you internally celebrated the hold you had on him. Knowing he wouldn’t last much longer, you plunged your fingers back down into your cunt, pumping hard and fast and moaning with abandon as you gave yourself over to the pleasure. Your other hand continued to squeeze and play with your breasts as you fucked yourself with your fingers. The wantonness of the act made you feel bold and uninhibited. You let Caleb’s name slip from your mouth as you added a third finger. You could feel the build-up increasing and decided to go fully in with both hands, redirecting one to your clit while the other thrust in and out of you. The spray of your own fluids against your thighs and Caleb’s answering growls and moans drove you higher and higher until it felt like you were on the edge of a cliff. With a concentrated effort, you took the leap, strumming and stroking until you knew you were screaming his name, just like he wanted.

Caleb strangled his cock as your cries trailed off, fingers wet and shining as you ceased your movements. The shine of the camera light and the sheen of sweat on your skin created an incredible glow. You looked radiant. Sitting up fully, he pressed stop on the video and turned the phone screen off. He stood quickly and turned on the lamp next to the couch. Your eyes blinked blearily up at him, a satiated smile gracing your face as he looked down at you, naked and unashamed, bathed in the pleasure you had taken for yourself by his command. He dropped to his knees, reaching out to stroke your face with his left hand, pulling your right hand up to his mouth and licking your fingers clean.

“You’re so beautiful,” he moaned around your fingers. “So incredible.” He grabbed your other hand and began to lick it clean. “So sexy.”

His reverent expression gave you a new satisfaction. You reached for him, even as he pulled back, shifting to sit on his heels. His hands worked to pull his dick out, pushing his pants and underwear down to his knees. The swollen red tip leaked pre-cum and the new light showed the wet spot on his underwear as they disappeared down his legs. He reached out and grabbed your hips, pulling your ass to the edge of the couch cushion. His frenetic energy had you gripping his arms as best you could, a brief shock of knowing pinging through your pleasure-addled brain. You wanted him to lose control. His pupils, despite the brighter light, were blown wide, and you knew he was lost.

He shifted back up onto his knees and with a quick adjustment, plunged his full length into you. You cried out in surprise, unprepared for such a sudden intrusion, despite having come only minutes before. He drove a hard pace, using his leverage of your hips to shove you down onto him as he bucked up into you until you were halfway off the couch, fingernails digging into his arms as you held on for dear life. He fucked you like a man possessed. His eyes never left where you were joined, watching as his cock shone with your slick on each retreat only to disappear to the hilt as he shoved back in. The angle of the position had him driving up into your g spot on each press upward, and a strange pressure built that you had never felt before. He released one hip to press down on your lower stomach and you screamed as the change in sensation became sharper and more insistent.

“Caleb! Fuck!” You tried to breathe. Tried to warn him of what you thought might be coming, but it was too late. All reason, all sense fled your body as you seized along his cock, body tensing and squeezing as your eyes rolled back in your head and a feeling like none you had ever experienced short-circuited your brain.

Caleb watched in awe as your pussy pushed him out, squirting all over his torso. He looked up to see you convulsing against the couch, hair plastered to the sides of your face and mouth open on a silent scream as your dripping hole clenched on air. A roar of primal pride bolted through his brain and he shoved his now dripping dick back inside of you, pressing your legs further back into your chest, moving to half standing, and unleashing himself. All he could think about was the tight squeeze of your cunt, the fucked out look on your face, and the recognition that you were his.

He leaned forward and kissed your lips. You tried to kiss him back, but found it hard to focus after the barrage of pleasure you had just endured. It didn’t take long for him to lose rhythm and come inside of you, his whole body alight with you and the tight clutch of your body on his.

Both of you were panting hard as he lifted you into his arms, still buried inside of you, and turned so he was sitting on the couch. He draped you against his chest, kissing your forehead and wiping the sweaty strands of hair away from your face. Your skin slicked against each other as he shifted to get comfortable. His heart pounded beneath your ear and you knew yours kept the same pace.

“Caleb?” Your voice sounded weak and thready, even to your own ears. You coughed to clear your throat a bit more. He chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, pip-squeak.” He pulled you as close as he could, arms tight against your back and you felt him sigh in contentment. His head bent down to your ear and his voice was suddenly darker and more intense. “You’ll always be mine.”

[blank3tsin]

NO NUT NOVEMBER

JUDE BELLINGHAM

DAY ONE:  november 1st

THE FIRST DAY    of November sneaks into Madrid like a thief, a crisp chill seeping through the cracked window of your apartment, tugging at the edges of the gauzy curtains.

You're laidback on the deep burgundy sofa, one leg hooked over the armrest, the other bent beneath you, a glossy magazine splayed open on your lap. You're not reading it, just flipping pages, the crinkle of paper a restless underscore to the tension already brewing.

He's in the kitchen now, rummaging through the fridge, the door creaking as he pulls out a water bottle. His broad back flexes under a tight black T-shirt, gray sweatpants slung dangerously low on his hips, the waistband dipping to reveal a sliver of tanned skin.

Yesterday, he'd come home buzzing about this stupid bet—No Nut November, a locker room challenge he'd leapt into with that cocky grin, tossing his Real Madrid kit bag by the door and declaring, "Piece of cake, babe. I've got this."

You'd smirked then, knowing you'd turn it into a war, and now, Day 1, you're already laying the groundwork.

"Day one," you call out, voice light and teasing as you toss the magazine aside and stretch, letting your loose tank top ride up slow, deliberate, exposing the soft curve of your waist, the edge of your ribs. No bra today—your nipples press faintly against the thin fabric, a subtle taunt you know he'll clock. "How's that iron will feeling?"

He turns, water bottle in hand, leaning against the counter with that smug smirk, but his eyes betray him—flicking to your chest, lingering on the outline of your nipples, then snapping back to your face.

"Solid," he replies, that accent thick and lazy, taking a slow sip, his throat working as he swallows. "You're not gonna get me this easy."

You stand, movements calculated, padding across the hardwood in bare feet, your shorts riding high on your thighs, barely covering the curve of your ass as you saunter toward him.

The kitchen's tight—tiles cool underfoot, the counter cold against your hip as you lean in close, brushing past him to grab a glass from the cabinet.

Your arm grazes his, your chest presses just enough against his side, and you feel him tense, breath catching for a split second.

"We'll see about that," You murmur, voice low and syrupy, pouring water you don't intend to drink, letting a drop spill over the rim, sliding down your chin, your throat, catching the light as it drips onto your collarbone.

His jaw ticks, eyes tracking the bead of water, and he shifts, turning slightly away, gripping his bottle tighter.

"Keep dreaming," he mutters, but it's strained, the edge in his voice sharp enough to cut.

You smirk, brushing past him again—closer this time, your hip nudging his—on your way back to the sofa, leaving him there, rigid and silent, the first crack already forming.

DAY TWO:  november 2nd

The second day dawns gray and damp, rain tapping a restless rhythm against the windows, a soft patter that fills the apartment with a restless hum. You're curled up on the sofa under a thin blanket, the TV flickering with some Spanish drama you're not watching, the dialogue a dull drone in the background.

Your focus is elsewhere—on Jude, sprawled in the armchair across from you, legs spread wide, scrolling through his phone in a white tank top that clings to his chest, those gray sweatpants still taunting you, the fabric outlining every inch of him.

He's quieter today, less cocky, and you can feel it—the tension creeping in, the way his eyes keep darting to you when he thinks you're distracted.

You shift, letting the blanket slip down slow, revealing the thin cami you're wearing—barely there, straps sliding off your shoulders, no bra, your nipples hard and visible through the fabric.

Your sleep shorts are tiny, riding up your thighs, and you stretch out, arching your back just enough to push your chest forward, letting the cami ride higher.

"Cold in here," you say, voice casual, rubbing your arms like you mean it, watching his throat bob as he swallows hard, his phone screen forgotten.

"Yeah," he grunts, not looking up, but his grip tightens on the device, knuckles whitening, and you catch the way his sweats shift, the bulge more pronounced now. "Put something on then."

"Maybe I like it like this," you reply, sliding a hand up your thigh, brushing the hem of your shorts, letting your fingers linger there, tracing lazy circles on your skin.

His eyes snap up, dark and narrowed, and you hold his gaze, smirking as you uncross your legs, letting them fall open just a fraction, giving him a glimpse of the soft skin between your thighs. "You okay over there? Looking a bit... tense."

"Fuck off," he mutters, voice rough and low, shifting in his seat, one hand rubbing his jaw like he's trying to distract himself.

You grin, standing slow, letting the blanket drop completely as you saunter past him toward the kitchen, hips swaying, the shorts riding up to flash the curve of your ass.

You hear him exhale sharp and loud, a muffled "fucking hell" under his breath as you bend over the counter, pretending to rummage for something, your cami slipping higher, exposing the underside of your tits.

"Want anything?" you call over your shoulder, stretching the moment, knowing his eyes are glued to you, and when you glance back, he's gripping the armrests, jaw tight, staring like he's about to snap.

He doesn't answer, just shakes his head, and you laugh softly, sauntering back to the sofa, leaving him simmering, the air thick with what he won't let himself take.

DAY THREE:  november 3rd

By the third day, the apartment's a pressure cooker, the air heavy with unspoken heat, every glance a spark waiting to ignite. The rain's stopped, but the windows are fogged, the city outside a muted blur of lights and noise.

You're on the sofa again, relentless, legs tucked under you in a cropped hoodie that barely covers your tits, unzipped halfway to show the swell of your chest, no bra, and a black thong peeking over the waistband of your sweatpants, the straps thin and deliberate.

The TV's on, some football highlight reel droning in the background, but neither of you is paying attention—your focus is on him, and his is fraying fast.

Jude's leaning against the wall by the window, arms crossed, staring out at the street like it's his salvation. His black hoodie's unzipped, showing a sliver of his chest, sweat-slick from pacing, and those gray sweats—fuck, those sweats—are tight, tenting slightly even now, no briefs underneath, the outline of his cock blatant and twitching with every move.

He's been dodging you all day—long showers, muttering about errands, snapping at you over nothing—but you're not letting up, not when he's this close to breaking.

"Day three," you muse, voice teasing as you stretch out, letting one leg dangle off the sofa, toes brushing the floor, the hoodie slipping higher to flash your stomach, the edge of your tits. "Still think you've got this in the bag?"

He doesn't answer right away, just turns his head slow, eyes raking over you—dark, dangerous, like he's picturing every filthy thing he's holding back.

"You're fucking annoying," he says finally, voice low and gravelly, stepping closer until he's looming over you, hands shoved deep in his pockets like they're the only thing keeping him in check.

"Me?" you say, all innocence, sitting up so your face is level with his hips, looking up at him through your lashes as you unzip the hoodie a little more, letting it fall open, your nipples just barely covered. "I'm just sitting here, Jude."

You shift, spreading your legs wider, the thong's straps catching the light, and his breath catches, loud in the quiet, his eyes dropping to where your sweats dip low, showing the lace against your skin.

"Stop," he warns, but it's weak, his hands flexing like he's aching to grab you, and you grin, leaning back on your elbows, arching your back to push your chest out, the hoodie slipping completely now, baring your tits fully.

His gaze locks there, jaw ticking, and you can see the bulge in his sweats grow, straining hard against the fabric.

"Make me," You whisper, voice soft and daring, and he groans, low and broken, turning away fast, muttering a string of curses—"fucking hell, you're unreal"—as he stalks toward the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

You laugh, low and satisfied, knowing he's on the edge, knowing tomorrow's the day he'll crack.

DAY FOUR:  november  4th

The fourth day shatters him. It's late afternoon, the sun sinking low over Madrid, casting long, golden shadows across the apartment, the light catching the dust motes in the air.

The tension's a living thing now, thick and suffocating, the vanilla candle long burned out, leaving only the raw, primal scent of him—sweat, cologne, desperation—hanging heavy.

You're on the sofa, relentless, in nothing but a black lace bra that's more sheer than solid, your nipples dark and hard beneath it, and matching panties that cling to your hips, the fabric damp already from how long you've been planning this.

You're sprawled out, one leg over the armrest, the other bent, fully exposed, waiting for him.

Jude's been avoiding you all day—training till he was dead on his feet, running pointless errands, anything to stay out—but now he's back, pacing the living room, his Real Madrid tracksuit jacket unzipped, gray sweats tight and tenting hard, no briefs underneath, the outline of his cock blatant, twitching with every step.

He's a wreck—eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched, hands flexing like he's fighting himself—and you've never seen him this close to breaking, this raw.

"Day four," you say, voice dripping with taunt as you stretch, letting the bra strap slip down your shoulder, one nipple peeking out as you arch your back, watching his eyes darken to black. "You're looking rough, Jude. Sure you don't wanna give up?"

He stops pacing, turns slow, and his gaze is feral—wild, unhinged, like he's been pushed past every limit, every shred of control incinerated.

"You're fucking killing me," He growls, voice raw and ragged, stepping closer until he's right in front of you, towering over the sofa, chest heaving. "This what you want? Me losing my fucking mind over you?"

"Maybe," you reply, sitting up slow, letting your legs fall open wide, the lace panties stretched tight, soaked through, clinging to every curve of your cunt. "Maybe I want you to break—want you to fuck me like you've been dying to."

He snaps. His hands seize your hips, yanking you up so fast you gasp, and then he's on the sofa, pulling you onto his lap, straddling him as his mouth crashes into yours—hot, desperate, a collision of teeth and tongue and four days of pent-up need.

You moan loud, grinding down against him, feeling his cock through the sweats, rock-hard and throbbing, the friction electric as he groans into your mouth, hands ripping your bra off with a snap of lace, straps tearing as he tosses it aside.

His lips are on your neck, biting hard, sucking marks into your skin, and you claw at his jacket, shoving it off, then tugging his shirt up, nails raking down his chest, leaving red lines he'll feel later.

"Fucking tease," he snarls, voice wrecked as he yanks your panties down, the fabric ripping slightly as he shoves them to your knees, freeing you completely.

His hands are everywhere—gripping your ass, squeezing your tits, thumbs flicking your nipples until they're aching, and you're loud—moaning, cursing, grinding harder as you fumble with his sweats, tugging them low enough to free him.

His cock springs out—thick, veined, leaking precum, flushed dark with four days of denial—and you wrap your fingers around him, stroking slow and tight, thumb smearing the tip as he bucks into your hand, cursing loud, head tipping back against the sofa.

"Jude—fuck—" you gasp as he lifts you, hands bruising your hips as he lines himself up, the tip of his cock brushing your entrance, teasing, not pushing in yet.

You're dripping, slick and hot, and he groans, low and guttural, dragging himself through your folds, coating himself in you, making you whimper, hips bucking.

"Four fucking days," he pants, voice thick with need, eyes locked on yours as he finally thrusts in—slow at first, stretching you inch by inch, then hard, deep, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke.

You scream, nails digging into his shoulders, the sofa creaking under the force as he fills you completely, thick and pulsing, the stretch burning and perfect. "You happy now? Fucking ruining me?"

"Yes—fuck, yes—" you choke out, clenching around him, already trembling as he starts to move, slow at first, dragging out every thrust, letting you feel every inch of him.

His hands grip your ass, lifting you, slamming you back down, and you're loud—moaning, gasping, his name spilling out as he picks up the pace, fucking you fast, hard, the sofa rocking, cushions sliding off onto the floor.

He's relentless, hips snapping up to meet you, every thrust hitting that spot deep inside that makes your vision blur, your body shaking.

"So fucking tight," he growls, one hand sliding up to squeeze your tit, pinching your nipple hard as the other slips between you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, messy circles that have you crying out, loud and shameless.

Sweat drips down his chest, soaking into your skin, and you pull him closer, biting his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise as he groans, thrusts turning sloppy, desperate.

"Don't stop—fuck, Jude, don't—" you beg, voice ragged, legs trembling as you ride him harder, the wet slap of skin filling the room, drowning out the city outside.

He growls, fingers digging into your hips, lifting you higher, slamming you down so deep you feel him everywhere, the pressure building fast, too fast.

"Come for me," he snarls, voice wrecked, thrusts erratic as he rubs your clit harder, faster, his cock throbbing inside you. "Fucking soak me—now."

It's the raw edge in his voice, the way he's shaking, that shoves you over—you shatter, a sharp, broken scream tearing out as your orgasm hits, hot and wet, pulsing around him, gushing down his cock, soaking his sweats, the cushions beneath you.

He groans, loud and primal, hips stuttering as he buries himself deep, cumming hard—thick, endless spurts filling you, spilling out around him, slicking your thighs as he grinds into you, riding it out with shallow, sloppy thrusts, drawing every shudder from you both.

He slumps back, panting, still inside you, and you collapse against him, trembling, the sofa a wreck—cushions scattered, fabric damp with sweat and cum. His chest heaves under you, his hands still gripping your hips, and you feel him twitch, softening slowly as the aftershocks ripple through.

"Lost," he mumbles, voice hoarse, accent thick, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he presses a lazy kiss to your shoulder. "Fucking worth it."

You laugh, breathless, threading your fingers through his damp hair, your body still shaking, still wrapped around him.

"Told you I'd break you," you murmur, and he chuckles, low and tired, pulling you closer, like he's not ready to let go.

[pit-and-the-pen]

(Nothing But) Flowers

a smutty Eris fic for @tsunami-of-tears's birthday! Happy Birthday! Here's some Eris sex pollen to hopefully add to a wonderful day <3

Eris x reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), Sex Pollen, fingering, p in v sex, praise, Porn without plot.

Wc: 4k

Autumn was still so beautiful to you. Despite being mated to the high lord, you were still in awe of every sight you sunk in. Spring was so different from autumn. With its trees and their myriad of colors, the way the animals scurried around silent safe for some crackling leaves under their feet. And all the new plants you got to explore. Being from spring you had grown up around the soft petaled blooms but here it was so different. Deadly mushrooms and ferns as large as houses. There was always something new for you to find. 

Which is how you ended up far off the path in the forest. Following a trail of almost glowing dust that led to a large clearing full of bright purple blooms. The smell was enticing on its own but the flowers were just so pretty, reminding you of violets. Your hand reached out to touch one of the petals and it seemed to open further to you, almost begging for you to run a finger along the petals. They were soft under your hand. Velvety almost. The pollen at the center of the bloom stuck t o your fingers. The fluff was almost as stick as tree sap and you couldn’t get it off of your fingers as you tried to brush it off on your skirt. You just stared at it, wondering why it wouldn’t leave your skin, but a tree branch snapping in the distance made you realize how dark the sky had gotten. Not wanting to figure out exactly what happened in the forest after dark, you started the trek back to the forest  house.

Despite the air temperature lowering with the sun, you felt your skin starting to heat up. You placed a gentle hand to your forehead, trying to gauge for any fever. It felt normal enough to you, nothing that would explain the way your whole body was starting to flush. It must be all the walking. You thought and just continued on your way. 

By the time you reached the house, you had shed your riding cloak and the first layer of your dress. Skin flushed, you could feel a bead of sweat dripping down the back of your neck and the contrasting coolness had you squirming. 

Eris was sitting in the armchair by the fire, feet perched up and a book in his lap. His reading glasses were halfway down the bridge of his nose. Your mate turned to look at you when you entered and you saw his eyes widen. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You look like you’re burning up.” He put his book down and started walking over to you. His scent hit you full force then. Cinnamon, tart apples and a musk that was exclusively Eris. It was enough to send another wave of heat over your skin and draw a long whine from your mouth. The concern only grew in his face as he misunderstood the noise. Thinking it was due to whatever sickness was coursing through your veins and not the growing desire to jump him right then and there. 

He closed the distance between the two of you and reached a hand out to copy your earlier movements, checking for a fever. He jumped at the contact. “Sweetheart, you’re burning up. Why would you go out if you were feeling this bad?” You could only focus on the lingering feeling of his hand on your forehead, the way you leaned in closer to him at the contact. You willed your brain to listen to the words he said, his face letting you know he needed an answer. 

“I wasn’t feeling this bad when I left.” The words felt heavy in your mouth, like your tongue had been changed to iron in minutes. You fought through it as best as you could. “I was walking back to the house and I started feeling like this.”

He didn’t hesitate before he asked, “What did you do while you were there?”

It took you a while to remember. To think back on what you had done all day. 

“I was walking down the path. Just looking around at all the animals, and plants. Then I saw a few flowers that I haven't seen before and went to go look at them. They were so pretty. But they had a…” You searched for the word. “Like a sap almost.” You held out your hand to show him the lingering pollen and found that there was no sign of it, not even a residue. You stared at your hand in disbelief. You haven't washed away the sticky substance, your hands weren’;t sweaty enough on their own. Eris noticed you looking at your fingers and gently cupped your hand in his. You squirmed under the touch. You felt another wave of arousal shot through you and his eyes snapped to yours, nostrils flaring.

“Did the flowers happen to be purple, love?” He asked, voice suddenly low. You nodded and he sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Is that bad?” You asked, scared of his reaction. 

He must have sensed your unease and he calmed the nervous expression on his face. 

“Not bad. Necessarily. We should probably get you in the bath.” He said quickly, changing the topic. 

“Eris, what are those flowers?”

He sighed heavily. “They’re flowers that we grow specifically for Calanimia. You have the stag in spring, and we have a tea that we make from the leaves of those particular flowers. And they…well..they.” His hand came up to scratch the back of his neck as he seemingly searched for the words. It dawned on you then. A tea for Calamia.Your face flushed even more as you took in his words.

“Oh.” Was all you could think to say.

“Like I said, we should get you into a bath. Try to cool you down.” He started leading you to the bathing room attached to your bedroom but his hand on the small of your back pulled a loud moan from your mouth. The heat on your skin is almost searing under the weight of his hand. You arched into the touch as you felt your wetness start to coat your inner thigh. Eris swore under his breath, fingers clutching at the fabric of your dress, trying to steady himself. You turned around to face him and were met with his blown out pupils. His jaw was set tight, teeth picking at the skin of his lip as he stared back at you. All the heat evaporated from your body at that look, pooling into your stomach and breasts. Both started to ache in a delicious way that had you surging forward to capture your mates lips on yours. 

He held you gently, lightly returning the kiss. A groan of frustration left you as you tried to deepen the kiss but he just pulled you away from him.

“Sweetheart.”

“Please Eris. I feel like I’m on fire right now. It’s…Gods it’s like the fucking mating frenzy all over again.” You pleaded and you were telling the truth. Eris and you were unable to keep your hands off of each other for nearly a month when you accepted the bond. It got to the point where you had to send servants away because of the amount of times that they had caught you in various areas of the house. Even then, when you borough them back, you noticed the lack of male servants in the forest house. This burning was so similar, but somehow worse. Fat tears started forming in your eyes at the thought of him not touching you. Even now you were wondering why he wasn’t already inside of you. You could smell his arousal and a quick glance down at the front of his pants showed that he was already mouth wateringly hard. 

“I know. But let’s get you into some cold water and see how you feel after that.” You perked up at the idea. You would have to be undressed to take a bath. And you knew your husband. He was never one to say no for taking you in the tub. So you let him lead you up to your bedroom, knees slightly wobbly like a baby deer. 

He kept the touching to a minimum. Not wanting to rile you up any further, plus his hands were buddy trying to keep yours off of him. 

By the time you two both got to the bathing room, he practically had to pin your arms to your side to keep you from unbuttoning more of his shirt. A heavy pout graced your soft features and he only pulled your lips together before he started to slowly unlace your dress. 

You leaned into his chest as he undid the strings of your corset. Nothing like you normally wore, just a casual walking corset and a single layer of dresses thanks to you discarding part of your outfit earlier. But when his knuckle dragged across the bare skin of your back as he pushed the corset down, you shuddered violently against his touch. His arm snaked around your waist to keep you from collapsing into a puddle on the floor. 

He placed you on the bathroom counter before going to fill the tub. You felt your brain fogging even more as you watched Eris’ back muscles contract. The sight was enough to make you drool. You couldn’t help the thought of how his muscles would flex as he was pounding into you. Eris stiffened as soon as the image popped into your head. Your intoxicated state must have opened up the bond wide and clear for him because you were able to smell his arousal in the room. It almost floated towards you, wrapping around your whole body and making you want to drown in it. 

“Eris.” You whined. You saw the small shake of his head before he turned to face you. 

“Sweetheart.” He took one look at you, the way your skin was flushed, your pupils too-wide pupils, and he moved towards you. He took two long steps before he froze. “Gods. You look good enough to eat but I….” He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, sending a calming caress down the bond. 

Eris picked you up and pried off your arms as he deposited you in the bath. A hiss rushed past your teeth at the cold temperature. He sighed a little and placed his hand in the water, warming it ever so slightly that the goosebumps on your arms went away. 

“Can you come in too?” You asked him, the water clearing your mind a little. Washing away some of the raging heat but leaving you craving your mate none the less. 

“If I do, you have to keep your hands to yourself? Do you think you can do that for me?” He was speaking slowly, giving you time to process his words. You frowned slightly at the idea but nodded anyways, desperate to feel your mate in any way. He placed a small kiss on your forehead and rose to his feet to start taking off his own clothes. 

You didn’t take your eyes away for a second, afraid to even blink and miss the sight in front of you. Inch by inch all of his wonderful body was exposed to you. His pants were last, pulled off his feet with his boxers in a swift movement. Your eyes zeroed in on his hard cock. The tip bright red. He followed your eye line and somehow managed to get you to look in his eyes. 

“Remember what I said?” He asked simply, voice still soft. 

“No touching.” You responded and that seemed confirmation enough for him to climb in behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest. It took every bit of self control you had to keep your arms pinned to your side. The rational part of your brain reminding you that he was doing this for your safety. For your comfort. 

So you leaned into his touch, savoring the bit of himself he was giving you. Your head was resting on the middle of his chest. Just content to sit in the water with him. But as soon as you got comfortable, another wave of desire pulsed through you. Somehow stronger than before. The feeling made your skin tight, almost itchy and it was painful. You let out a quiet whine, trying to hold back the sound from reaching your mates ears. It obviously didn't work. He would have been able to hear the discomfort if he was in the other room, plus you knew he could feel it being sent down the bond. His arms started to trail lightly up and down your side, resting on your shoulders where he lightly tried to knead out some of the tension resting on them.

The calming action seemed to have the exact opposite effect. HIs hands might as well have been between your legs with the searing pleasure it brought you. A deep moan left your lips that had Eris stiffening again behind you. You felt his touch start to recede and reached a hand up to keep him there. But you remembered the condition he gave you. 

“Please, don’t stop.” You whined out pathetically. Much to your delight, his hands didn’t leave your shoulders. But they stayed still, not wanting to cause another reaction. 

You stayed like that for a few more minutes, the pressure between your legs slowly building hotter and hotter. 

Eris dragged his lips lightly over the junction between your neck and shoulders. You shuddered against him. When he spoke, his lips were right against your ear. 

“Can I try something, my love?” You could have cried at his words, relief rushing through you and causing you to relax further into him. 

“Yes, nother above, Eris please.”

“I know it hurts but I want to see if I can help just a little.” At his words, you felt his fingers gently wrap around your front. Hands slightly warm as he reached for your breasts. Grabbing one of your taunt nipples in between the long digits and putting the perfect amount of pressure on it. When you cried out, he repeated the motion on the other side. Letting you squirm against him, soaking up the pleasure he was giving you. 

ONe of his hands started to glide down your stomach, searing a trail down between your legs. You screamed his name as his finger made contact with your swollen clit. Hips already bucking into his hand. He wrapped his legs over yours, pinning you in place. 

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself, sweetheart. Just sit back and let me do the work.” He said before he resumed his earlier kisses along your neck as he started to slowly circle his finger on your clit. Your head was thrown back, eyes already squeezed tight as you clutched the edge of the tub, knuckles white as you tried to fight the urge to grip his arms. His hand that was still kneading your breast came and gently moved your hand to his thigh. Instantly you clawed your hand around it, grateful for the grounding presence. 

You could already feel your peak nearing, your moans and cries reaching a higher pitch. Garbled version of Eris’ name leaving your lips signaled just how close you were. He sped his fingers up, drawing tighter, faster circles that had you seeing stars. You back arched off of his chest as you felt yourself about to fall over the edge. His teeth lightly nipping at your neck was all you needed to fall apart. Your body jerked at the force of your orgasm, hips twisting as much as you were allowed to. You could still feel your walls clenching around nothing as Eris swiftly drove two fingers inside your aching hole. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, back still arched, head facing the ceiling. Your nails bit into Eris’ thigh, harder than you meant to but as he sunk his fingers in and out of you, you couldn’t find a way to realize your hand. All your brain seemed to be able to do was focus on his thick fingers inside of you, the cold metal of his wedding ring hitting the inside of your thigh. 

“Good girl. You’re doing so good for me.” you whined at his words, unable to respond. 

“I know it hurts but you’re being so good. Just cum for me.” And his words were enough to push you over the edge again. Already so worked up from your first orgasm. His fingers didn’t stop though as you screamed his name. It was hard to tell where one orgasm started and the other one stopped after that. His fingers refused to stop until you were scratching at his wrist, pleading for him to at the very least slow down. He milked one last orgasm from you, fingers brushing against the soft spot deep inside of you and pulled his fingers out from your aching center slowly. You turned around in the tub, facing him before you rested your head against his chest. You heartbeat was frantic at this point but nothing compared to his. 

When you looked at Eris, his face was flushed matching your own. His lip looked like he had spent a good amount of time between his teeth. You placed a small kiss to the small indents on his bottom lip. 

You just rested against his chest, Eris using his powers to keep the bath warm while you came back down to earth. Once you couldn’t hear your heartbeat in your ears anymore, he helped you climb out of the bath. Thinking clearly for the first time in what felt like hours, you blushed. 

“Thank you.” You said to your mate while he helped you dry off, avoiding your breast and between your legs. He slipped one of his shirts over your head, letting it fall past your thighs.The fire was still there but was tamed down to a dull roar. Nothing like the all consuming feeling from earlier. Eris had a self-satisfied grin on his face when he captured your cheek in his hand, pulling you to him as he layed back on the bed. You could feel how hard he still was, even through his sleep pants. 

“Eris…”

“I’ll be fine.” He said in a sleepy voice. He sounded more worn out than you did at the moment. 

“But I don’t want to sleep…” You trailed off as you started running your hand down his bare chest. He groaned when you ran a single finger along the line where his pants sat, hips slightly bucking towards your hand. You looked up at him, his eyes closed, hair still damp from the bath and felt desire sink back into your bones. You paused for a second as your hand dipped into his waistband. He nodded his head, eyes now looking down at you. That was all it took for you to pull his pants down just enough for his cock to spring against his stomach. Your mouth watered at the pretty pink flush it had and as much as you wanted to take him into your mouth the ache between your legs was too much to ignore now. So you quickly slung your leg over his hips and grabbed his throbbing cock in your hand. He let out a string of curses as you ran his tip through your drenched folds, once, twice and then began to sink down onto him. your hands shot out to his chest, catching yourself before you could slump against his chest. His hands were instantly on your hips, clutching at the flesh. Fingers digging in so tightly his nails were leaving behind pretty half moon indents. His throat was tight by the time you sank all the way down. Letting yourself just absorb the pleasure that was the feeling of his cock inside of you. You rocked back slightly and threw you head back at the way his tip pushed against your cervix. This was a million times better than his fingers and once you had adjusted to the feeling you were rocking back and forth on his lap. Hands helping you push off of his hips. He did his best to keep still, the strain in his face proof of that. He wanted to let you chase your high, let you get this damned pollen out of your system. But you weren’t having any of it. 

“Gods, Eris. You feel so good. Filling me up so perfectly.” You started to babble. Letting the words come out in a breathy whine. His hips bucked up as you spoke. Breaking some of the words with high pitched moans. Your nails were leaving angry red lines on his chest and the slight pain only seemed to nudge him even more. You could see the struggle in his eyes as you looked down at him. His lip was slightly bleeding because of how hard his teeth were sinking into it. You lifted a hand off of his chest and pulled his lip from his teeth. You leaned down and gave him a deep kiss. Tongue sweeping across his bottom lip to sooth the angry flesh. The hands on your hip grew slightly warmer as you started to speed your hips up. Rocking back and forth to a tempo you both loved. Your breasts were pushed against his chest from the angle of the kiss, rubbing your nipples against the smattering of hair on his chest. He whined into the kiss as you raised your hips up slowly before slamming them back down. 

“Good boy.” You teasingly muttered against his lips and that was all it took for him to lose that last little bit of control. He grabbed one of your shoulders and pulled his feet flat on the bed. The new angle forces you to sit up. He pulled the prettiest of moans from your lips. Soft cries and hiccups. You felt like he had filled your veins with electricity as he thrusted into you harder. He was grunting from the heavenly pace of his thrusts. You could only let your head fall back as you started racing towards your orgasm. 

‘Are you gonna cum for me sweetheart, come all over my cock?” He said in a mocking tone. He already knew the answer, you could feel your walls fluttering tighter against him. “Go ahead my flame.” His command had you writhing against his lap, legs shaking and it was only his hand on your shoulder guiding you that kept your hips moving. Your whole body felt so exhausted suddenly. But you focused on letting him chase his high. He kept pounding into you. Filthy grunts and moans leaving his open mouth as you felt yourself coming back down to earth after your orgasm. He gave you a few harsh, long strokes and you felt his thighs tense as he came deep inside of you. The feeling of his cum against your walls acted like a balm to the heat against your skin. Satisfying whatever senses the pollen had overtaken. You collapsed against his chest. Both of you sucking down lungfuls of air. You stayed on his chest, only moving enough to lift yourself off his softened length. You giggled a little as you felt his cum pool out of you. The both of you sat there, letting your heartbeats slow down until they're almost in sync. 

“Are you feeling any better?” He said into the crown of your head, his hand tracing feather light touches up and down your back. You just sighed happily and nuzzled further into his chest. 

“I do think we’ll have to take another bath…” You propped yourself up on your elbows, a wide smile on your face. You gave him a dramatic wink. Eris grabbed your arms and rolled you over onto your back. 

“Then let's make sure you’re properly dirty then, shall we my love?” His words made you pull him by his hair to your lips. Whatever it was seemed to be out of your system but seemed to be just getting started for your mate. 

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 4

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Predator/Prey, Self-Harm

Chapter Summary: Horns. Antlers. A long tail with smooth scales. A short tail. If those are gone, then both of you are almost the same, right?

Author's Note: Some lines have references to existing media. I have been playing Disco Elysium every now and then with a dash of Reverse 1999. Still going with the main themes tackled by Beastars and BNA though but you know, I really do love certain lines from these games that I just want to put it in here as well.

Enjoy!

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

4: My Dearest, Generous

A little downpour has visited the N109 zone today.

It was close to the afternoon when you heard the soft pitter patter against the windows of your studio that is steadily increasing intensity within each passing minute and you immediately rushed to close them one by one, not wanting water to get inside and ruin the patterns and the fabrics you have prepared to sew for tomorrow.

You were about to close the last window when a small, dark figure zoomed past you, spreading droplets on the wooden floor.

It looks like your odd little crow friend has decided to take shelter here at your studio.

Daisy settled on one of the armchairs, shaking the excess rainwater that clung on its feathers, letting out an indignant caw before preening itself.

“I know. It is quite sudden,” you chuckled softly, locking the last window with your ears flicking away little beads of rainwater that clung on your fur.

Daisy seemed to also agree and it let you remove the damp good luck ribbon you have made for it. It is a little worse for wear now so maybe it is time to make a new one. 

Perhaps something more stylish? The image of your crow friend wearing a scarf made you smile. Very fitting because it is becoming colder but for now, another good luck ribbon with the color it prefers should do.

“It’s alright. I won’t throw it away,” you assured it when it hopped along with you, worried where you would put its cherished item.

Will you repair it? Mephisto thinks you can. 

If its master can repair its circuits easily then it thinks you can do the same. You seemed very capable of fixing everything after seeing you stitch together large tears on the twins’ jacket before so it also means piecing back its worn ribbon should be easy to you.

For Mephisto, it doesn’t matter if its good luck charm is slightly damaged (What do you mean it's hanging by a thread?) All the affections you have poured into that ribbon will always be there no matter how it looks and it feels rather naked now that you have removed it.

Your finger grazed against the old wood of the cabinet while you hum absentmindedly, counting the number of the rows of shelves that store everything you need to sew any of your clients’ requests.

‘Oh, dear stranger journeying to a far off land, how many days must pass till I see you again?’

Third column from the left of the cabinet. Above where you keep the little boxes of buttons of various colors, all neatly organized, and then you finally pull out the drawer to retrieve a box inside of it.

Your crow flapped up to your sewing table, watching you set the item and it hopped in excitement.

Mephisto knows this particular box. This is a box where you store all of its trinkets it gave to you (Fine, and its master’s too.)

It was one of the few belongings you brought along before you left the place you once called home with your father. 

A little gift to you when you were young by an old hybrid couple after you knitted them scarves. You never quite remember their faces anymore but even then, the memory of their gratitude lingered, the playful pinch on your cheeks when you handed them their scarves wrapped in brown paper and twine.

“Do you want me to play it?”, you asked Daisy, opening the box to reveal the various precious ores and gemstones resting together with the dried flowers your crow has brought for you.

All of it, hidden in one place, little memories preserved and forever cherished.

Mephisto let out a beep, a yes, its optics adjusting to take a recording once again of this little moment that it may or may not hold over its master’s head (Again) upon its return to the base when the rain subsides.

You nodded in approval, tying around Daisy’s old ribbon around one of the horns of the little black dragon figurine sitting inside the box then turned the key.

A soft melody began playing and both you and Daisy watched the black dragon spin among the field of red blossoms painted in the background as if it was chasing the white ribbon on its horn, a lonesome game but still fun while the two of you looked back at your reflections on the small mirror.

Mephisto pushed the top of its head under your chin, nuzzling you and you laughed softly, petting its back while you listened to the gentle lullaby.

“Quite a downpour, don’t you think?”

Your heart skipped a bit, the lullaby cut short as you immediately closed the box, pushing it near the pile of fabrics beside you. 

These impromptu guests of yours always catch you off guard. Perhaps it comes with their innate trait of being able to make their presence hidden until they choose to reveal themselves.

Or so you thought.

The door shut with a soft click, your surprise visitor making his way towards you and your eyes widened. His footsteps were quiet, almost like Skye’s and twins’ but how is it possible? How is it possible when you and the person standing across your table are certainly alike, are of-

-the same species.

You nodded slowly, and Daisy hopped between you and your visitor, silently assessing this newcomer, one of the many who had made themselves comfortable in your studio.

“Louis,” the deer hybrid said, raising his hand for you to shake which you returned, telling him your name in return but not like you need to tell him, he already knows about you anyways. Everyone who has transactions with Sylus is fully aware of who you are.

The seamstress who dresses all the wolves of this den in sheep’s clothing.

The deer fiercely guarded by the dragon kept in this hidden corner of the N109 zone.

The object of Sylus’ affections.

Or, from people who harbors deep hatred to Sylus-

Sylus’ well-seasoned meal.

“What brings you here, Mister Louis?”, you asked politely, your hands on your lap. You haven’t seen this deer before. 

Is he a new resident here in the N109 zone? 

He is well-dressed, clearly wealthy, and the cut of his clothes fit him well. 

His eyes lingered on Mephisto and he knew that this was the  little heathen made by Sylus to carry out his commands. One of his three errand runners  as people said who goes about doing his dirty work on his behalf. 

That dragon really does keep a close eye over you, doesn’t he?

It was almost concerning. A predator hybrid and prey hybrid spending too much time with each other spells trouble. Is Sylus fattening you up? A meal reserved for a special occasion?

“I heard you are Sylus’ personal tailor,” he said, walking around your studio, studying the clothes on display.

“Yes, but more like his lead tailor,” you corrected him, your eyes watching him closely. It has been so long since you have met your own kind. Is it comforting? Maybe, “He still has other tailors as well.”

“Did he come here often?”

“Oh, never.”

“Never?”

“Yes, he has yet to pay us a visit.”

His eyes narrow slightly at you. The word in the streets is that you and Sylus are seen together more often and people have claimed that he is very forward on his affections to you, how his tail wrapped around your waist, and even how he gazed at you as if when you tell him to jump, he will ask how high you want.

“He only sends his people here,” you continued but you caught the subtle hint of confusion in his gaze and then you added, “Good people.”

Good people?

A brief look of surprise crossed your visitor’s face. Did he hear that right?

You think those wolf cubs, that crow between you, and Sylus of all people are good ? 

Maybe it is true that every hybrids like you and him indeed lost their instincts when they stepped here in the N109 zone which is why your lot has to look after each other just in case, just in case that the beasts who reside here decide to remove their masks and hurt you just like how the humans did outside. 

Because you prey hybrids are just so damn pitiful.

“It didn’t cross your mind that they would hurt you?”

“Everyone who entered this room didn’t.”

“There will always be the first.”

“I trust them more over the humans,” you replied. His concern is valid, of course, and Mister Louis here isn’t the first prey hybrid who expressed his worry over you being friendly with any of your visitors.

Your father is a different case, though, who is specifically worried about Skye.

Skye, of all people.

Skye who never crossed the line when he was here. Skye who doesn’t have to stay but chose to. Skye who helps you if he doesn’t have to.

But you know their concern stems from reality. 

Humans. 

Predator hybrids. 

Prey hybrids. 

That’s how the hierarchy goes. That’s how it has always been. Your kind stood in a delicate balance, docile enough in the eyes of the humans that you are taken advantage of often and weaker than the weakest predator hybrid as long as they have fangs to nip and claws to scratch.

“We’re deers by the end of the day.”

“I know but even then, it doesn’t make much difference.”

If anything, predator or prey, you are all just animals in the eyes of humans.

Tainted blood.

“I appreciate your concern, Mister Louis,” you added politely, giving him a small smile. “But it wouldn’t be fair for us to judge them easily when they haven’t harmed any of us here so far.”

Louis studied you closely. You genuinely do believe that all of you hybrids are equal.

How naive. How idealistic.

It will take centuries or more for prey and predator hybrids to get along and another more for hybrids and humans.

But then again, your father did mention to him you would rather run towards the nearest predator hybrid when in danger than seek help from a human.

“You’re an odd deer, Miss,” he chuckled softly.

He pushed a small package towards you wrapped in old newspaper.

“But just so you know, I heard dragons play with their prey before they eat them alive.”

────────────────────

Sylus adores the subtle signs of affection every time he is visiting you.

The faint blush on your cheeks when he stepped in to observe what you were doing. How you automatically shift closer when his tail is wrapped around your waist or when you listen to his words, your ears flicking while you pay attention.

His species in particular are naturally warm yet he only grew to understand the value of another person’s warmth every time he is with you and if he only can pull you closer, it is an irrevocable fact that you will be the warmest treasure he ever had held in his hands.

Not because of the blood pumping on your veins.

But because of the peaceful grace you have with you.

The deer doesn’t need to step out of her meadow if anything. He had already stepped foot on your paradise under the sunlight that passed the trees and if he can, he doesn’t want to leave the only place that treated him with sincere kindness.

Today, Sylus has been eagerly looking forward to his visit despite the sudden downpour. 

As if a little rain would stop him from seeing his favorite deer and as usual, he is not one to be in your shop without gifts for you.

He gave your father an easy smile and the older deer simply nodded in return, a polite greeting, when the dragon hybrid passed by him.

Thirty steps from the entrance of your shop to the hallway and another set of ten from the hallway to your studio. Oh, Sylus can’t wait to see his hardworking darling and he was halfway to your studio when he stopped, his ears picking up your sweet voice from behind the closed door and well, well, what’s this?

His eyes narrowed, picking up the scent of another guest. Another deer hybrid just like you and-

-A male one.

Your voices were muffled by the walls of your studio but he would always recognize the always gentle and polite tone you used when talking to anyone.

Then, the door opened and Sylus immediately piece together the identity of the newcomer you were just talking to earlier.

He isn’t one to forget the name to the face, afterall.

A young upstart in the N109 zone trying to make a name and recently, the little birds had told him that this one is creating a small association for all prey hybrids living here, not that Sylus minds.

He caught the familiar scent of fear from the male deer hybrid but this one was able to put all of his apprehension under a nonchalant expression laced with subtle defiance.

This gaze is all too familiar to him at this point.

This visitor of yours does not like him.

“I was told you had never set foot in this shop,” the deer hybrid started, not looking away from Sylus.

Brave, perhaps there is a reason why this one managed to reel the leashes of all the predators following his orders but he has a thought that this particular hybrid will be a little nuisance.

“And what exactly have you been told?”, Sylus asked casually, studying the newcomer. A good looking one but he is aware your father wouldn’t set you up with anyone, not when the older deer had gotten the message loud and clear that he is pursuing you.

“The miss said you only send good people in this shop,” the deer hybrid answered, as if piecing together your words and Sylus’ presence, “That Sylus himself never set foot here. Not even once.”

“Is this miss lying, Sylus?” the deer hybrid continued, letting go of the door handle, “Or are you deceiving the poor girl?”

“You’re quite a detective, aren’t you?”

“I took it as my responsibility to look after people here who get too cozy with predators like you.”

“Are you implying I am going to snap and attack her one day?”

“There are too many cases of your kind that did,” the deer hybrid countered. 

These answers, these excuses. 

The same lines recited by predators who thought they could reel in their natural instincts and not harm the prey hybrids they claimed they love and adore.

“Oh really? I suppose you have a solution for that? Locking my sweetheart away just to make sure she is safe from the big bad dragon,” Sylus replied, taking a few steps forward but the deer hybrid did not seem to falter.

Sweetheart.

So the words are true. Sylus is indeed courting you in his own twisted way.

“No, my solution is not drastic,” the male retorted, walking towards him until they were shoulder to shoulder. “You still seemed a reasonable man so just a word of advice-”

“-Pursue your own kind and leave her alone.”

The newcomer walked away but Sylus can’t shake the audacity of this upstart. 

Why? 

Why do people think that he can’t love you or be loved by you just because of your differences?

If you removed your antlers and he cut his horns, both of you would have been humans and no one would bat an eye.

Sylus took a deep breath, the faint scent of rain still clung to his hair and clothes, calming him down slightly and even when the smell of your previous visitor hung about, he could still shift through all the mixed scents and pick up the aroma of cotton and wildflowers.

The scent of you.

It was more than enough to soothe him and then, he opened the door to your studio, ready to see you.

The tension that lingered on his interaction with your previous visitor breaks, in this room, in the garden of fabrics and threads where there is only the two of you, the world is a distant away. 

The ocean of chaos in his heart slowly subsides.

In this little piece of paradise, a small voice emerges. Yours .

The dearest thing he wants to hear for his remaining days.

“Skye, quite a rain we are having, don’t you think?”

If all the precious metals and minerals he had ever owned merged together, its value will not be able to measure up on the fondest smile you wear when you see him. 

Warm like the first rays of the sun after a long winter.

“Well, it certainly did not stop me, didn’t it?” he remarked, all the words the deer hybrid said to him fading in the background and your voice is the only sound he can hear.

He watched you move around your desk, coming close to him to examine him and he chuckled softly when you had to stand by your tiptoes to do so.

“Are you wet? Do you want me to get a towel for you?”, you fretted about.

“You’re so considerate,” he replied, his hands reaching out and settling on your waist to steady you, “But I’m fine, little doe.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have really come over. You might get sick,” you pointed out, looking up to him.

You’d be surprised how far his constitution goes as a dragon but then again, he does love being doted by you.

“I’ll be fine, sweetie.”

“You could always turn down Mr. Sylus. His gifts can always wait.”

“But bringing his gifts to you is the only task I do enjoy.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else, Skye?”, you asked while he brushes the threads hanging on your antlers. 

There are so many things he wants to ask from you. Those kisses you give freely to the twins and Mephisto, to hold you close and take in your comforting scent, and for you to finally call him by his real name but his requests, his pleas overflow, the words lost in his tongue and only then what matters is you, you, you.

Just you.

“Just keep doing your own thing, hm?”, Sylus replied, tapping your nose playfully.

“How about you help me and Daisy then?”, you asked, and you were so quick on pulling a chair for him, setting it beside where you usually sit on your sewing table, “If you don’t mind being my second assistant for today?”

His eyes fleeted on Mephisto which is busy shifting through the pile of fabrics you have laid out on the table. His mechanical crow really does enjoy spending time with you from the looks of it and he caught the absence of that familiar white ribbon you tried around its neck. 

Had his companion managed to lose its valuable treasure already? That seemed unlikely. He had seen Mephisto snap at another crow once who tried to pull it off its neck.

“Just tell me what to do, darling deer.”

“Daisy and I are making another good luck ribbon,” you said, sitting on your chair and you patted on the chair beside you, an indication for him to do the same which he gladly did. 

Oh, is that how that little item is called? No wonder Mephisto is very attached to it.

“A good luck ribbon?”

“Yes, to keep Daisy safe.”

“Well, isn’t Daisy a lucky bird to have you, miss seamstress.”

“I’ll make one for you as well, Skye”, you smiled, and the idea of having Mr. Sylus’ bodyguard wearing a ribbon in one of his horns sounds quite appealing to you. He would very much resemble the dragon figurine inside the music box you have beside you and he will be more approachable, you are sure.

“Are you saying I need good luck, sweetheart?”, he replied but he was already shifting through the fabrics laid out in front of him together with Mephisto and he already had a color in mind.

Afterall, he had always loved the color of your eyes. Warm, welcoming, and eager. He certainly wouldn’t mind a ribbon of that hue tied around one of his horns.

Your ears drooped slightly on his response, “You don’t want one?”

Oh, he doesn’t need luck. 

Not when he already has you near him but how could he resist that cute pout on your face? This little tactic of yours, even if you are not aware of it, always works so well that he always finds himself abiding to whatever you would say.

“Don’t give me that look, Miss Deer,” he gently chided you and tapped your nose, “Of course I want one.”

Your tail wagged just slightly upon hearing his reply. It always gives you a sense of purpose when people say they like to receive gifts from you and since you are now making him one, maybe you should sew one for Mr. Sylus as well, a little token of gratitude for all the gifts.

“Do you think Mr. Sylus would want one as well?”

“I am sure he will appreciate it.”

“What color do you think he would want?”

“Red,” Sylus replied, an idea already forming in his head after you are done with this project while he fiddled at the edge of the fabric that shares the color of your eyes, “Definitely red, sweetie.”

Daisy hopped near you, dragging its chosen fabric by its beak and Sylus shifted closer to you, your shoulders touching and ready to take any instructions you would give him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the sewing part.”

“Just say the word, miss seamstress.”

Certainly not a bad way to spend a rainy afternoon with you.

────────────────────

Sylus had always detested the horns sitting on top of his head.

Monster.

Among the thousand curses and more he has been called, the word had always carried a certain weight every time humans and hybrids alike had laid eyes upon him. 

His kind is a rarity these days, a dying breed after being hunted and culled like livestocks when the humans had deemed they are a threat.

How many times had he sawed them off? He only lost that habit when he realized that they always grow back, more pointed than ever and-

-If he can’t convince his hunters he meant no harm, then it is time to prove their fears right.

The blood drips from the blade, into his face, and then into the white tiles of the bathroom. In this world overflowing with laughter mocking him from being the last of his kind, he had decided to level the playing field and carve a utopia for himself that slowly grew, a twisted safe haven initially meant for fiends such as him.

Then, on this land of despair, a small patch of paradise had taken root. Clearly impossible but certainly, without a doubt, a miracle.

Sylus then realized having horns isn’t too bad. A grotesque reflection of your elegant antlers, a bad imitation, but one of the similarities you both share.

“I am glad you love it, Daisy,” you clapped your hands, watching your odd little bird hopped about and turn for you and Skye, showing off the little ribbon you have sewn together.

His mechanical crow is more than pleased and Sylus is already sure it is about to show it off to the twins for receiving a new gift from you. 

It has become a little competition between those three and they don’t need to know that their boss is more than aware their contest involves who gets the most kisses and pats from you.

And here he is, sitting at the bottom of the list with the lowest score even if he isn’t technically part of that game.

“Do you want me to put on yours as well, Skye?”, you asked him.

“Just try not to tie it too tight, darling deer,” he said and he bent his head slightly, enough for you to reach his horn.

There was a shiver that ran on his spine when your fingers grazed his horn while you carefully fastened the ribbon around it and he let out a small whimper. 

It was a gesture of trust but you wouldn’t know that, not when it was common for you deer hybrids to touch each other’s antlers.

But it was more than a gesture of trust.

Afterall, Sylus is more than aware that his kind only allows closed family to touch their horns and-

-Their mate.

He almost sounded pathetic in his own ears and for once, he is afraid to see the look of pity on your eyes. Here is your liar, Miss Deer, he wants to tell you but he wouldn’t deny there is a hint of fear that eventually you will realize ‘Skye’ and ‘Mr. Sylus’ are one and the same. 

Would your fond gaze turn to fear by then?

“Oh, did I put it on too tight?”, you asked when your ears picked up the sound he made.

It was not pity that he saw but a flicker of concern if you have hurt him and oh, his sweetheart, always so caring. What did he do to deserve your kindness?

Too tight? Hardly. Your touch was so gentle, so unfamiliar yet he yearned for more.

“No sweetheart, you haven’t,” he replied and then you let out a small laugh when he pinched your cheek.

“I am glad,” you nodded and you studied the bow closely placed at the base of his horn. You should put more ribbons on him because it certainly made him look less threatening. 

Maybe then, your clients wouldn’t have a heart attack if you and him had to go again to do a delivery run soon. 

“It really looks good on you, Skye. People would believe you are a nice and friendly dragon now.”

“Perhaps I should wear ribbons more often then,” he joked but your ears seemed to perk up at his comment, and he caught the anticipation in your eyes at the prospect of making him more bows.

You nodded, and he froze slightly when you rub your antlers against his horn where the ribbon is tied in approval, “That sounds great. I can’t wait to see you in them.”

How many years has it that Sylus had long for such affection? To be treated gently and not as a lesser animal? Now, all of those wishes, his yearning for love that he thought he will never have, were slowly fulfilled unknowingly by you and he closed his eyes, rubbing his horns back to you.

“And I can’t wait to try out more ribbons for you, sweetie.”

“I hope Mr. Sylus will like what I made as much as you do, Skye.”

He may have stayed longer than usual today, especially when you ask him to only leave when the rain stopped. The sound of the downpour, the soft conversation between the two of you, and the sewing machine humming filled the room and even when evening fell, he watched you still push through, making your patterns, until you accidentally dozed off mid-conversation.

Little deer always forgets she is in the company of a beast.

He gently tucked your hair behind your ear, his hand lightly grazing the fur from the base until the tip, fleeting, not enough for you to even stir and the red gemstone that adorn your hairpin twinkled for a moment, like a wink.

Sylus left Mephisto with you, who almost looked like a plushie with you curled up against his companion and he set the gift he had brought for you near your hand holding the pencil.

Perhaps this is the start of another small game. A back and forth. A gift from him in exchange for a little trinket from you this time but Sylus will have to see.

He tied the red ribbon you said to give to ‘Mr. Sylus’ upon his return around the leather strap of his watch before he left your studio.

A small smile formed in Sylus’ lips when he took one glimpse of you before leaving.

If you opened your eyes, you will see that your Mr. Sylus is already more than pleased.

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It was such a relief to see the boss returned to the base all too pleased with himself.

Luke and Kieran never found out what actually ticked him off last time he had visited you and their little investigation never arrived on a conclusion because you just looked at them confused when they tried to ask you if you and the boss had a little misunderstanding.

“Do you think he got upset because I asked for a piece of his lemon tart?”

They decided not to press on further, not wanting to upset you (Also because you offered to share the box of macarons they stole given to them begrudgingly by that cute, feisty sheep hybrid.)

They welcomed him in the base as routine but mostly because they are excited to see their father boss once again and he is usually more forgiving with their little antics every time he sees you, their tails wagging in excitement.

(Not that they blew up something again. They have been good while he is away for once. This whole sewing hobby is really taking up their free time.)

Yet, when Sylus went past the double doors of the base, they caught a scent quite strong that clung on him.

The scent of cotton and wildflowers.

Luke and Kieran looked at each other, a flicker of understanding. Is that why the boss is happier today?

“Boss, why do you smell like Miss Deer-”, Luke was about to ask but let out a yelp when Kieran stepped on his toes yet even then, the question had already made its way into his ears.

“What are you two on about?”, he asked, a small smirk tugging on his lips. He knows these two wolf cubs had a superior sense of smell, an already inherent trait for wolf hybrids amplified by whatever the humans did to them before arriving here in the N109 zone.

That little gesture of yours where you rubbed your antlers against his horns is supposed to be an affectionate one, fairly common among deer hybrids who are known for being very friendly to those they like.

He is still wearing the little ribbons you made for him which he had not removed until now but he is more than aware you have unknowingly left your scent on him.

Not that he minds, anyways, especially when he had also left his on yours as well.

He had to give these two points for asking him bluntly unlike your father who had given him an odd look when he exited your shop but he is sure you will be able to clear everything up. 

You are not one for lying after all.

But these wolf cubs have no sense of subtlety. So nosy.

“Did you and Miss Deer had-”, Luke let out another yelp when Kieran stepped on his toes again, “Can you stop that, Kieran?”

“I am not giving you allowance for you both to sniff on my clothes,” Sylus said dryly.

The two looked at each other, their tails wagging harder. They wouldn’t dare do that knowing full enough the boss retaliates during their sparring sessions and it wasn’t their fault when their noses can smell up to miles.

“Come on, boss,” Kieran said, the two walking with him deeper into the base, “We aren’t animals.”

“Actually, it is pretty much stronger around your horns,” Luke piped and his eyes widened slightly, noticing the ribbon fastened on the base of his horn and another one in his watch.

The twins looked at each other, their eyes studying the neck scarves you have gifted them.

The boss had finally received a gift from you just like they did.

“You both are acting like animals.”

But the little scratch he gave them on the back of their pointed ears betrayed his words.

.

.

.

Little gremlins.

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Author's Note: Yes, I borrowed Louis from Beastars. He is absolutely necessary in the world building of this story even if he will appear here just ONCE. What did Louis left at Miss Deer's table? What is Sylus' gift? These will all be revealed in due time.

Will there be a side story with the twins? Maybe, maybe. We will see how the stars will align in the coming months.

Anyways, this is so fun to write. I try to write in between my free time and sometimes I just woke up at 2am because the ideas JUST HAD TO COME AT THAT TIME.

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B