#but its too hot for tighter trousers

[cult-of-the-eye]

brooo it's literally impossible to be anything other than skinny during the summer

[yameoto]

butch pussy + femme cock = using you

tw; free-use, somno, cnc, morning sex, butchpussy (vi) femmecock (cait), implied bratty!reader. wc; 1.2k

vi and caitlyn linger at the doorway, to your shared bedroom. patrols are a bitch—and it is not always that they can get home, early. it's never been a problem exactly. except—

“ah..” vi’s mouth waters.

dawn crawls on the horizon. its heralding light seeps in through gossamer curtains, spilling out to bask your sleeping form in an unmitigated glow. your very nude, sleeping form. as if teasing them—you let out the most adorable yawn, in the midst of sleep. your leg curls upwards, covers slipping off.

caitlyn swallows, hard.

the two of them are immediately seized with an irrational jealousy for being so robbed from witnessing you, like this. “since when does she sleep naked?” “suppose it’s hot nowadays.” caitlyn answers airly, as if her nails aren't digging into the heel of her palm and the tent in her trousers' isn't stiffening. urgently. since when did she have the libido of a teenage boy? vi elbows her, voice teasing—if not equally as hoarse. “cupcake. you’re packing.”

"like you're not thinking the same." caitlyn scoffs, and vi can't argue with that. she is thinking the same. if the same, is the idea of hovering over your blissfully relaxed figure, splayed out on the bedspread. tearing off her pants and—

“..perhaps, we could.. indulge.”

“oh, baby. you read my mind.”

you wake, to a burning in your lungs, and your cunt. there's a stuffy headiness enveloping your head, something hot and wet and slippery pressing up against your chin. you open your mouth, only half-consciously, when your tongue meets salt and your eyelids flicker open in sleepy befuddlement. heat, and muscular thighs clamp down on either side of your head. a rough hand twists in your hair.

vi jerks you tongue-first into her cunt. your, whatthefuckisgoingon??? comes out more like; "mmrmgh?”

"poor baby. can't breathe, huh?" vi only shoves you deeper up the wedge of her thighs, your nose burrowed into the curls of her hot-pink bush and mouth at her sopping pussy. "oh, right there, princess."

she hisses, wresting you by the hair and rubbing her slickened folds against your face. your hands are scrambling at the mattress, each and every attempt at speech muffled by the squeezing of vi's legs. she pants in pleasure, as you pant in need, into her pussy—choked out by the sheer force of which vi's thighs are coiled around your head. she eases up, just enough for you to wriggle your mouth to gasp for air, and release a breathy, plaintive whine—eyes sleep-glazed and blinking hard, trying to get your bearings. c'mon, now—get with it; you're being suffocated by your girlfriend's pussy. not four AM on a workday and your chin is coated with slick. vi lets out a petulantly dissatisfied noise when you're gulping air for too long—shoving your head back down with a low growl. "don't—hah—you fuckin' stop."

you're so preoccupied with trying to breathe, head spinning, cogs whirring at a slow, slow pace as it attempts to process the fact you're gasping into your girlfriend's pussy; you almost don't realise the burning in your belly has rescinded to a low simmer. mistake.

"don't tell me you forgot about me, darling." like caitlyn can sense your distraction, there is a blinding jolt of lightning that crackles through your body as she gives you an idle jerk. something twitches, and you realise, belatedly, there is a cock inside of you. you tense up, and your walls clench. caitlyn's moan is dizzying.

"ah—ah.. fuck, sweetheart. you feel almost as good as you did, before."

vi presses up flush against your face, groaning as she rocks, grinding picking up the pace. of course, the tighter she holds, the less you can breathe, and your limbs jerk, fingers fisting into the sheets.

"stop squirming. you're only going to make it worse." caitlyn's pace is leisurely, manicured nails pinching either side of your hips. she rolls her hips forward, teeth biting down at her bottom lip. "it's a shame. you made such a good cocksleeve. all relaxed. pliant." 

it feels wrong to hear words so vulgar rolling off her silken tongue, so casually, so early-in-the-fucking-morning, as if you haven't heard filthier come out of her mouth. the shock of it is wearing, giving way to the blazing warmth that so throbs in your pussy that you can't believe you hadn't noticed. though perhaps, that was the whole point.

"you didn't expect me to wait my turn, did you?" oh, caitlyn is definitely smirking. you can hear the smug undercurrent in her voice; even if you can't see a thing, other than the swollen nub of vi's clit and the hastily-cut bristles of her bush as she gets off, chest rising and falling in shallowing breaths. caitlyn, however, is still only working in idle, languid pumps. like she's savouring your sleep-ridden compliancy; how you are, for once, thoroughly silenced by the clench of vi's pussy and vice of her thighs.

"you—mm—do look pretty when you shut up." vi gasps out, and you can feel her cunt pulsing around you, you want to whine, grumble, protest—anything—but the press of your lips only spurs her on, the hand in your hair yanking you deeper. vi's breaths stutter, tensing. "..shit." vi cums, her weight on your chest shifting, smushing you against the mattress as she squirts, right down your throat. caitlyn barely moves, content to, apparently, continue using you as her personal cocksleeve as vi humps out her orgasm against your face, milky fluid and your own saliva—from having nowhere to go—completely immersed in heat. caitlyn's thrusts are lazy, and vi's grinding vigorous. your chest is tight, thoughts almost nothing in your light-headedness, mindlessly gaping open and simply taking it.

the second vi collapses, thighs finally, finally lifting off your shoulders—caitlyn rams her cock into you. no longer muffled by vi's cunt (though, her cum still dribbling out from your lips), you cry out. you really can't catch a break, can you?

"shh." caitlyn commands, and now, you can see her eyes flicker up at you in annoyance, though beneath the gaze—gleams amusement. she slides herself in, deep, and your own hips rise in instinctive reaction, whimpering, lungs all used up.

you manage to do as caitlyn says, and shut up, chests heaving as you needily gulp in the mercy of fresh air. vi's large hands skim your bare chest, circling your nipples, thumb swiping underneath your breasts. "easy," she husks, voice gravelly, as if you have the energy to go anything but. or perhaps, she's talking to caitlyn. you can't tell, because caitlyn is certainly not going easy—and you are paying the price. in fact, she's begun to jam her hips with vicious force, pace vigorous—pulling out, ever-so-slow, before plunging back in again. there is no longer any restraint; as if she has held herself back, enough, and deserves this. to plow your pussy and drink in each and every broken gasp it elicits.

she thrusts, particularly brutal. you gasp—throat raw—and you unspool all over her cock, body betraying you. caitlyn's pupils dilate, just like that, at the sight of your cum oozing out in thick, creamy bursts around her base, with each slam of her body—has her head falling back, throat baring. her hips falter, before she drives inside you, harsh and hard—one last time—and paints your insides sticky.

[moonmaiden1996]

Bound By Fate Chapter 4

Please note this chapter is just mindless smut involving Shanks- only. You can skip this chapter if that is not for you. I hope you enjoy, please like and leave a comment if you can.

Shadows pooling in the corners of Shanks’s cabin as he sat on the edge of his bed, your dress clutched tightly in his hands. He barely registered the solid wood under him, only the delicate fabric, the faint but undeniable essence of you woven into its fibres.

His hand trembled, the tension within him twisting like a knife, coiled so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t yet snapped. Every breath he took was laced with your scent—a mixture of salt, warmth, and something uniquely yours. It lingered, teasing him with memories that weren’t even there, but ones he couldn’t stop imagining. He let his fingers skim over the silk, closing his eyes as he let the scent drift through him, grounding him just enough to stave off the worst of the longing tearing at his insides.

His knuckle turned white as he gripped the dress tighter, bringing it closer to his face. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the warmth of your skin left behind, letting it settle within him. The faintest hint of lavender floated through it, mingling with the salt of the sea, a delicate contrast to the storm churning inside him. He forced his mind back to the image of you—the fire in your eyes, the quiet strength in your defiance—every detail etched into his memory. He let that strength soothe him, if only slightly, against the maddening ache brought on by the pollen.

The need gnawed at him, relentless and unyielding, every inhalation intensifying the unbearable pull to have you close. He tried to imagine your voice, grounding himself in your words, the way you’d pushed back against him, fierce and fearless. But it only made him ache more, the fight between the logical man he knew himself to be and the feral instinct clawing at his self-control growing more difficult with each heartbeat.

In the silence of his cabin, he found himself murmuring your name, as though saying it aloud could somehow quell the fire raging within him. His fingers brushed over the delicate fabric, running his thumb over a frayed edge that had worn from the journey. The roughness steadied him, a tether in the dark, a reminder that you were real, here on his ship, and not just some fever dream conjured by the pollen.

With a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forehead on the soft fabric. He closed his eyes, breathing you in, letting the quiet settle over him like a balm against the chaos that had seeped into his blood. And in that stillness, his resolve flickered, almost breaking beneath the weight of his longing, the need that urged him to go to you, to throw caution and reason to the wind.

But for now, he stayed rooted in place, fighting the wild storm within him, grounded by the only connection he could allow himself—the delicate scent of you in the room, he needed this. 

His cock was straining against his trousers as he took another drags of our scent. He needed this, just to give in for a moment, to indulge himself so he could take the hash edge off so he could function, with you around it was a battle that he was quickly losing. 

The bronze skins of his body were now shining with a sheer layer of sweat. Nibble fingers pulled at the laces of his breeches, the knot surrendering with ease and the sagged around his hips. He was too hot. To hot to function. Every scrap of clothes felt like an inch of lava smothering his body, burning him alive. Frantically, he freed himself from his boots, his shirt and his bottoms. Freeing himself into the cool sea air. He let out a satisfied hiss as his cock bobbed against his stomach. This was wrong and he knew it, but he didn’t care, the guilt would have to wait. For now he just need to feel, to satisfy the thirst he had for you.

Tossing himself on to the bed he nestled himself comfortably against his bedding. He would have to get new stuff if he was going to share this cabin with you, he would not lay his one and only again the soil and stain sheet and lumpy pillow. He cursed himself as a surge of desire pieced him. Just the mere thought of you being in the same room made his thick thighs tremble uncontrollably. God, he needed this. Needed it to reign back the control.

Peeking down he saw the thin trail of red hair leading down to his cock, the head was engorged, red and angry weeping hot beads of precum his balls rested heavy beneath, aching. He stroked himself, languidly, rolling his wrist as he let off a long, low hiss. His touch both pleasurable and painful, he released the feeling coiling inside but it was a cold reminder that you were not there with him.

Letting his cock go for a moment he brought the garment to his nose and inhaled deeply. A juddering moan rattled from his chest, as he tugged a little harder. If he scrunched his eyes shut it was just like you were there with him. Breathing deeply he rocked his hips to meet nothing. The dress fell beside his face as a wave of need crashed over him, forcing the very breath from him. The smell of you was so strong it seeped into him, spurring him on. 

Wrapping his firm hand once again around him he quickly found a rhyme, hips juddering off the bed as he found a relentless pace. His hand moving with desperation, everytime he was close, the coil inside him would slip, loosen till the point that of madness, he was so close but as soon as he got to the edge he was cruelly snatched away from the brink.

Shanks gasped, pressing his face deeper into the silk of your discarded dress, inhaling as if each breath pulled him closer to relief. His body was taut with desperation, every muscle strained as he worked his hand over himself, the sensation agonisingly intense. Each stroke seemed to feed the need inside him rather than quench it, until every nerve was singing with an almost unbearable tension.

He clenched his jaw, stifling another whimper, trying to hold himself together, but the feel of your scent, so faint yet somehow so overwhelming, seemed to unthread his very self-control. It was as though he could almost feel you there with him, your warmth, your touch, and that elusive softness he’d been craving since the moment he brought you onto the ship. The pollen still simmered within him, amplifying every sensation, every fantasy that slipped into his mind, igniting him further.

The tension coiled, growing sharper, white-hot, and then finally—his control snapped. Instinctively, his face buried itself in your dress, biting down hard as a  rough, broken moan escaped his lips as he surrendered completely, riding the waves of bliss as jets of cum painted his chest, cresting his jaw as he inhaled your heady scent. For a moment, he simply lay there, body spent but mind still restless, the echo of you lingering on his senses, grounding him in a way that felt both soothing and excruciating.

In the dim cabin, with the traces of you clinging to his skin and the haze of his own need beginning to fade, Shanks let out a soft, rueful laugh. He’d never wanted anyone like this, with such helpless urgency—and he knew, as he lay there, that his need for you wasn’t just physical. It was something deeper, more consuming than he’d ever allowed himself to feel before. And now that he’d tasted it, there was no going back.

@commanderfreethatdust @hauntedluna

[lipglossanon]

Day 23

Kink: Edging

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x witch!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, edging, AU - heavily inspired by Young Goodman Brown lol, cnc, handjob, teasing, slight dirty talk, slight voyeruism

not proofread

He never should have followed Goody Brown into the forest. There had been talk of witches at the ale house and after being plied with too much drink, he stumbled out into the night. He caught a glimpse of the blacksmith’s wife slipping off into the trees out past the edge of town and began to follow. 

A cold wind blows—the rattle of dead branches sounding like bones being jostled in a coffin. Leon pulls his frail coat tighter to his body and pushes forward, keeping to the path cutting through the forest. He hears sounds in the distance and catches whiffs of smoke. 

Finally, a gleam of firelight tempts him off the path and deeper into the trees. He sees Goody Brown slip between the bark and follows after, not prepared for the scene he stumbles upon. 

Dozens of people from the town are here; Leon’s shocked eyes bounce from one to the next. 

“Welcome to our Sabbath,” a voice speaks from behind and he turns. 

He’s never laid eyes on you before, a nymph in modest clothing. 

“Sabbath?” He repeats, brows pinching. 

You grin and his heart races with nerves. 

“Yes, come pr’thee hence,” you lead him over to a chair at the edge of the makeshift circle. 

Settling into the seat, he feels a lethargy like never before. A wooden bowl at his feet gleams in the firelight, eyes dazedly jumping around, catching sight of the other townspeople. Goody Redfield lay with Goody Valentine while Goodman Wesker watches. 

“This is devilry,” he gasps out, unable to move from the chair you pressed him into. 

“Mayhaps, but tis pleasurable nonetheless,” you smile, a sharp curve of your lips, as you undo his trousers. 

“Thou must enjoy the sights of devilry,” you mock, pulling his half hard cock free from its confines.

His muscles feel weak and he’s unable to stop the groan from slipping out when you grip his stiffening length. 

“Stop this madness, witch,” he bites out, body shaking under your touch. 

“Goodman Kennedy,” you click your tongue, moving to kneel beside him. “Thou sought us out wen’st thou followed Goody Brown.”

His cock throbs in your hand as you stroke him once, the skin slipping back to show off his drippy tip. Before he can voice another complaint, you form a tight tunnel with your fist and begin to raise your hand up slowly. Once only the head is being squeezed by your wicked fingers, do you slowly move back down his cock. 

You keep this maddening pace until Leon’s whimpering and begging, hot shame pushing his lust higher and him closer and closer to climax.  

“Worry not, Goodman Kennedy,” you murmur in his ear. “Tis only your seed we ask of you, not thy soul.” 

He groans, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, tasting the smoky air of wood burning and incense. His eyes flick down to watch your hand grip his cock, fingers cold against the blood hot skin. Wasting no time, you pick up the pace again, thumb brushing his slit to smear what’s dripping across his sensitive head. 

You stop right before he’s able to climax and he keens, thighs shaking and tears gathering in his lashes. 

“Aww,” you coo, falsely sweet. “Tis no fun if it happens too soon, Goodman Kennedy.”

His balls ache from being made to stop so suddenly, your devilish fingers teasing his swollen sac and making him whimper. 

“So heavy,” the serpent’s tongue in his ear does nothing to quell his lust. “Doth thou wish to gift me with thy spend? Twould ease that awful ache in thy body.”

Shuddering, Leon bucks his hips into your hand. 

“Pr’y thee may have it. I only wish to end my misery,” he moans.

“What a misery it is,” you laugh, high and mocking. “Well met, Goodman Kennedy, I shall rid thee of thy burden.”

All the air leaves Leon when you grip his cock more firmly, hand working over him in quick, rough strokes. His tip weeps pearlescent seed, balls drawing up tightly when you spit on his dick. 

“To help thee,” your wicked laugh sends chills racing down his spine. 

“I’m—“

“Good boy,” you purr, jerking him faster. 

His back bows, legs stiffening as he spills all over your hand and into the bowl on the ground. You say something but it’s lost to him, focused only on the euphoria blazing through his body. Your hand keeps pumping his throbbing cock and more and more of his seed spurts from his tip into the wooden bowl. 

When he’s unable to give you anymore, you remove your hand and bring it to your mouth. He watches with tired eyes as you lap up the seed marking your skin. 

“Many thanks, Goodman Kennedy,” you grab the bowl and stand. “You may join the others if thou wish. Or leave. It matters not to myself.”

“What are you—“

You tap his nose with your clean hand, “Ah, that would be telling. Run home, Goodman Kennedy. It seems thou wouldst not wish to stay after midnight.”

Leon shakily rises from his seat and stumbles away from the fire, from the debauchery happening mere feet away. He collapses upon his bedding once he finally makes it to his abode. Your laughter and touch stain his body long after the night is through. 

[sugusat]

Vampire! Suguru x Reader

Warnings: Slight blood, mention of biting (he's a vampire duh)

This is my first smut, pls be nice (Picture is not owned by me, credit to artist!)

Vampire! Suguru loves feeding off you whenever he gets hungry. He'll have you straddle his lap, making sure you're nice and comfortable before slowly lowering his lips to your neck, making sure to leave light wet kisses up and down and then sinking his teeth right into that sweet spot he needs.

Your initial gasp will cause him to frown slightly out of concern but that gasp soon turns into a moan as his teeth leave you hot and needing more. One hand on your jaw and another on your thigh that slowly makes its way around to cup your ass and pull you closer. The friction making you moan further, his hands now slowly guiding you to start grinding down into his hard cock.

"Nmghm Suguru, fuck that feels good" you mewl as he drinks down his serving slowly, not wanting to rush this moment. Your hips begin to rotate downwards, the motion and his sucking on your neck making your head swirl. As the desperation begins to grow, your movements become more rapid and so do Sugurus ministrations on your neck. Just as your orgasm starts to build in your core, Suguru pulls away from his feed as you whine at both sensations coming to an abrupt stop.

"Suguru pleasee" you whine once more as you begin to forcefully move your hips despite his grip on your ass holding firm. "You're such a brat when I feed y'know?" Suguru whispers into your neck as he leaves light kisses where his teeth were. "Gettin all riled up and we're not even naked." As he finally releases his grip, your hips begin to buck again, loving how his hard length feels against your clothed pussy, the friction no longer enough anymore. "Be a good girl and cum for me and I'll fuck you hard afterwards"

His words only further the need growing in your core as your movements become more sporadic, "Hm feels good" you moan as the tightness in your core begins to build, "Fuck princess, you're gonna make me ah cum too if you keep that, hmhm, up"

Those words alone rile you further, grinding down hard, using his shoulders for support as he continues to lap at the small pool of blood leaking from where his teeth have just been. "Suguru fuck please, I'm gonna nhmh fuck"

"Shitttt Princess, ah maybe just sl-slow down yeah?" he grunts as his grip becomes tighter, guiding your body faster despite his words.

"Whaa-t?" You mewl too far gone, as Sugurus hips jut up into you. And just as the tension coiling in your stomach becomes too much, Sugurus teeth find your neck again. Biting down and sucking, and then you're falling over the edge. Cuming hard as you feel your panties soak, core clenching around nothing. Sugurus grip now tight on you again, pulling your body close to his, you feel him shiver and grunts into your neck as your body twitches uncontrollably riding out the last moments of your orgasm.

Suguru unlatches from your neck for a second time and laughs into it as you moan from the overstimulation. It's at that point you look down and notice the wet patch taking over Sugurus dark trousers as you realise you just made your vampire boyfriend cum in his pants.

Holy shit.

"Well Princess, if I wasn't already dead I think you'd be the death of me" he chuckles as you collapse your head into his shoulder, exhausted.

[latoyalestrange]

heirloom

s. sallow x reader

summary: drabble based loosely on this request. to be honest i think if i wrote this with any angst at all it would be too painful lmao so here is a fluffy version where sebastian gives you his mother's necklace and its just a really sweet moment.

words: 630

warnings: fluff, establish relationship, sebastian being hot and dominant, aged up seb and mc, not edited!

you'd gotten an owl from sebastian during free period while you were studying in your dorm.

Meet me near the lover's lookout. Urgent.

S

you instantly smiled at his scribbles. you'd missed him all day, having a completely different class schedule than his. deciding not to waste any more time, you quickly fixed yourself in the mirror and left to meet him at your designated spot. it was a short walk across the hogwarts lush grounds before you could spot him pacing on a nearby hill with a small, cobblestone courtyard on top. the autum leaves danced in the breeze around him and the sunset made it look like his skin was glowing. you didn't notice the smile that instinctively appeared on your face as you quickened your pace. his expression mirrored yours as you caught his eye when you approached.

"ah, love. there you are." he sounded relieved as he opened his arms for you to curl into, kissing the top of your head when you closed the gap.

"i missed you all day," you mumbled into his chest, taking in his comforting scent. "what was so urgent?" you craned your neck to meet his dark eyes that looked like tiger's eye stones in the sunlight. you could see his face shift as he swallowed, his tie seeming tighter than before around his neck.

"i...have something for you." he patted his pockets frantically after stepping back, looking in his pockets nervously. a blush formed on your cheeks, he was always giving you little gifts to remind you of his love for you. he wasn't the best at writing poems but he was an incredible shopper.

"ah, here..." he dug in the pocket of his trousers and held the small contents out to you in his hands. you saw a delicate, sparkling chain with a brilliant stone pendant that changed colors when you shifted it in the light.

"oh, sebastian..." you were breathless as you stared at the gem in his hands. "it's stunning!" your hands covered your heart as if to protect it from the overwhelming sweetness.

"it was my mums." he looked down at the necklace in his hands adoringly, a sad, but content smile on his lips.

"oh, you don't have to--" you began to refuse, but he interrupted you.

"i want you to have it." his eyes finally met yours again, smile still unfazed. you couldn't find any words as he walked around you, brushing your hair to the side. his fingers ghosted over your neck, sending bumps across the skin around them as he wrapped the cool metal around your neck and clasping it together. he fixed your hair once he was finished and pressed a loving kiss to your temple, comforting you slightly. you looked down at the jewelry that now decorated your bosom with amazement, taking it in your gentle palm. he came back into your view, relishing in the sight of his family heirloom around your neck.

"i don't deserve this, sebastian." you shook your head, feeling entirely unworthy of such a beautiful and meaningful gift. he stepped towards you, palming the side of your face with his toned hand, forcing your gaze to lock with his.

"hey, none of that." his eyes trailed down to your lips, then to your chest. "you are to never take it off. understood?" you didn't have the courage to protest as you saw him looming over you with such a firm grip on your face. you nodded instead.

"understood." it was your turn to trace your eyes over his plush lips, silently begging for contact. it was visible in the way you bit down on your lower lip with anticipation. he granted your wish, your lips connecting tenderly. you huffed as he pulled away.

"good."

reblog if you made it to the end!

[aghoulnamedmeliora]

Kinktober 2024

Day 13 - Exhibition

Word count: 656

Synopsis: Cowbell sat by the greenhouse jacking off for anyone to see.

Thank you @kroas-adtam for making these prompts.

The summer sun was warm on Cowbell’s exposed skin. It wanted to blame the heat for the fuzzy feeling in its stomach, but it knew that wasn't the reason. Instead, the fuzzy feeling resulted from being entirely naked in front of the greenhouse, cock hard in its hand.

It usually wasn't one for exhibition, but after hearing Special alone in his room one night, it decided to try being on the other side.

So far, no one had passed by or exited the greenhouse, but the thrill of getting caught was still there. It could hear Mountain working away inside and the desire to open the doors, sit in front of him and continue its slow, languid pace was tempting but ultimately not its goal. Its goal was for Mountain to walk outside and catch it in the act. It might take a while, but Cowbell was nothing if not patient.

A couple of hours passed before Cowbell heard Mountain moving towards the doors. It had edged itself a few times and knew it wouldn't last when he does catch it in the act. It found it didn't quite mind. The idea of cumming in front of Mountain only spurred it on more.

Finally, with a grunt, Mountain pushed the greenhouse doors open and stretched, appreciating the soft breeze on his overwarm skin. Cowbell’s mouth started watering at the sight. The thin shirt he wore rose up slightly showing off strong back muscles glistening with sweat.

After staring out at the sunset for a few seconds, Mountain turned around and was immediately met with the sight of Cowbell slowly jacking itself off. He wanted to look away, give it some privacy, but his gut told him that this is what it wanted. He looked up and met its eyes, its gaze sultry, filled with want. Mountain gasped, his dick twitching to life.

Cowbell felt its balls draw up tighter. It wanted to last longer, bask in the attention given but the image of the tall earth ghoul staring at it in shock, pants growing tighter by the second, was too much. It came with a small whine, hot streaks of white painting its black shirt with the evidence of its debauchery.

Mountain’s eyes were transfixed on its cock, he couldn't look away even if he wanted to. The sight was too much for him, hand flying to grab at his own cock to ease the ache. Cowbell looked up and smirked, the wild look in his eyes made its cock twitch even after just cumming.

“Go on. Be a good boy and get your cock out. Show me what I did to you.” Mountain blushed, its words going straight to his dick.

He immediately unzipped his trousers and fished his cock out, the idea of disobeying Cowbell nonexistent. His dick was hard and flushed a deep, angry red aching for some sort of stimulation. He gripped his cock properly now, a bead of pre dribbling from the tip.

“Aww, did I get you that worked up already?” It chuckled, licking its lips at the view. Mountain whimpered pathetically, nodding his head.

“Why don't you sit down next to me and we can wait for someone else to pass by together. I’m sure one of your pack will be down soon to find out where you are.”

He was already dangerously close just from watching Cowbell, the idea of someone catching him like this pushing him closer to the edge than he would have thought possible. Still, he sat down next to the ghoul.

He looked over waiting for his next instruction, but the dark smirk plastered on Cowbell’s face threw him over the edge. He came with a loud groan, shame washing over him. Cowbell tutted, feigning annoyance.

“What a shame no one else saw that. Oh well, guess we’ll just have to keep going until someone comes down.” Mountain was in for a long afternoon.

[fic--writer]

Crime in Ramazith's Tower

Fanfic Rolan/femTav 18+

Life went on as usual until a prankster appeared in the tower, who “played” with the master of the Ramazith tower, put everyone in an awkward position and disrupted all plans. Adventure novel with NSFW elements. P.S. This chapter is just over 2000 words I will be happy if you are inspired and make art inspired by this text. tag me.

Chapter 1

"Let's not talk about it"

The evening was cloudless, warmth permeating everything.

Tav was resting on the balcony of Ramazit's tower, gazing into the distant contours of the landscape. The sky was painted with the rays of the departing sun, surrounding everything in a golden light. It had been four months since the fall of the illithids.

Days went by, former allies now had their own affairs. As for Tav, she lived and worked in Ramazit's tower. After defeating Lorrokhan, Rolan had mentioned that everything that was his also belonged to her. Deciding to take advantage of this, she, as a seasoned mage, took Rolan as her apprentice and moved into his (of course, his!) tower. Her days mainly consisted of routine: assisting with Sorcerous Sundries, teaching Rolan, her own magical experiments, and overall, she was content with her now peaceful life. Everything would have continued in its own course if not for this.

Rolan stepped out onto the balcony after a day's work at the shop and unusually closed the door behind him carefully. "Hey," he greeted, leaning against the railing. "How was your day?"

He was dressed in a beige frilly shirt and dark trousers, seemingly in good spirits.

Their relationship with Tav had taken on an almost friendly tone but maintained a formal demeanor. Rolan treated Tav with respect, as one should treat their mentor. This was particularly appreciated by him, considering his experience with his previous teacher. He was sincerely grateful.

As for Tav, she didn't deny to herself that the master of Ramazit's tower possessed true charm. However, she didn't dare to tread on thin ice and spoil their relationship with flirtation. Sometimes Rolan allowed himself to linger his gaze on her slightly longer than appropriate, but nothing beyond the bounds of decency. Tav was delicate and respected the boundaries they had set.

"Oh, I've been experimenting with different ways of manipulating weaving. Everything okay?"

He just warmly smirked, "More than okay."

But his eyes slid past her, as if searching for something unsaid. Rolan moved abruptly closer to her, closing the distance between them. Tav looked uncertain, and before she could grasp anything, he silenced her with a passionate kiss. It started boldly, without any prior courtship. The one who had previously shown prudence and behaved decently had changed for some unknown reason, or decided to take a risk. His wild outbursts, which had been of a completely different nature before, confused her. He didn't give her time to think. Tav hesitated and resisted the thought of what was happening, but something inside her clenched and demanded the continuation of this forbidden dance.

She decided to allow herself to drown in this moment. His audacity startled her, but how could she know what tieflings were like in the art of passion? After all, she had never been with a tiefling.

At first, his kisses only felt on her lips, they were so hot against her human skin. Then his tongue ventured into exploring her mouth, and Tav felt something velvety and ridged on its surface, which made her marvel. He was literally consuming her, so impatient and unrestrained, yet once he taught her not to be greedy. But now he embodied greed itself. And the question of how long he had desired this haunted her.

He squeezed her waist tighter, his hands finding their way beneath the neckline of her emerald, suede dress. He unabashedly groped her thighs, lightly pressing his claws against her skin but not scratching her. His fingers almost reached her undergarments. Tav felt like everything was happening too fast. Did he assume she should just surrender to him at his first demand? Tav hadn't shared a bed with anyone since her breakup with Gale (ah, his ex and ambitions), but she hadn't lost all shreds of dignity. If she hadn't earned even a drop of respect from Rolan, then she didn't know how to earn it at all.

Finally, she pulled away from his kisses with effort, breathing heavily, and said:

"You know, Rolan, usually before diving under a woman's skirt, people say at least a few words. What's gotten into you?"

"Hmm, I thought after last night, we wouldn't need words."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Tav backed away slightly and looked at him incredulously.

"Pff... Really? You decided to pretend like nothing happened, huh? Did you really decide to laugh at me? - He looked at her incinerating, with a deep sigh. - How did I not realize it immediately. Oh, bloody people..." He instantly became agitated and stepped aside, his face changing, reminiscent of the time when, long ago, in the grove, he yelled at Lia.

"How did I not realize it immediately... Why like this, Tav... Did you decide to use me as your silly toy!? You can't just show up in the middle of the night and... make me think I mean something to you, and then just use me. Nobody! Damn it! Nobody deserves that kind of treatment!!! Have the guts to say to my face that last night was just a one-night stand!"

"You know what? You bastard!" Tav boiled over and raised her voice. How dare he talk to her like that? Especially since she really had no idea what he was talking about. "Last night!? We didn't even see each other, you son of a bitch, yesterday. I spent the ENTIRE day with Kal and Lia, we had breakfast, walked in Bloomridge Park, arranged books on the second tier, in the evening I gossiped with Lia about Alphir and Lacrisse, and then I went to sleep! And I have no idea what the damn master of Ramazit's tower was up to. Honestly, damn you, it would have been better if it stayed that way! And on top of everything, it was you who groped me as if nothing had happened!" Tav finished,

"Now you decide to make a fool out of me?" He met her gaze, and an indescribable sorrow shone in his eyes.

Tav adjusted her dress, grabbed Rolan's shoulder sharply, and under her confident hand, he quieted for a moment. If the bastard had lost all sense, she would have to act. She opened the doors he had locked. Right in front of the threshold stood Lia and Kal. So close that you could hear their breathing. Half an hour ago, they were busy with descriptions on this tier, and now... Of course, they were eavesdropping, ever since they heard the screams.

Caught, they remained silent. Everyone seemed to be waiting for someone to speak first. It was like waiting for the verdict in court. But now, in this absurd tangled situation, delivering a verdict could be postponed.

"To your brother and sister, I hope you still trust?" Tav glanced briefly at Rolan and then stared back at the troublemakers. "Both of you, please tell us what happened yesterday. In order."

Dumbfounded, they merely repeated everything Tav had already told.

"Wait, what are you trying to say?"

"Rolan, I really have no idea who you were with yesterday and what happened there, but I know for sure that whatever it was, it WASN'T ME!"

Rolan squeezed her hand and led her back. Closing the balcony, he sharply shushed his brother and sister and slammed the door loudly so they wouldn't eavesdrop anymore. Now he paced nervously from side to side, putting a finger to his lips.

"I don't understand, to be more precise, I'm completely confused."

"Just tell me what happened. Let's try to figure this out." Seeing Rolan completely bewildered, Tav cooled down a bit, realizing he was sincere.

"It's incomprehensible." He raised his hand up so that his beautiful long claws pierced the air. "Well. I was working in Sorcerous Sundries, nothing special, but I was more tired than usual, decided to skip dinner, I knew if you needed me, you would have called, but no one bothered. In the evening, I went to my room, and I was already lying on the bed, reading my notes. Suddenly, there was a knock. I opened it, and it was... well... you.”

"Speak."

"Next, you, I mean, it looked exactly like you. Well, how should I put it, um... hm..."

"Well, what?!" Tav was already beginning to suspect what could have robbed the master of Ramazit's tower of all eloquence. It was evident from what he had done to her just a couple of minutes ago.

"Well, you jumped on me."

"Jumped? What do you mean, Rolan? Damn it, just tell me how it all happened."

"Phew," there was something like a muffled snort. "When I opened the door, you offered me to become something more from the doorstep. You said... Well... Different things. Started kissing me. And then... uh..." At that moment, Rolan could easily have taken first place in the contest for "The Reddest Tiefling in all of Faerûn."

"Stop. What? You mean, you... You fucked my "form"?!" Tav was indignant, either from the speed of his decision-making, or from the fact that they had been used so easily (after all, she had personally taught him to detect illusions and enchantment schools), or from the fact that everything didn't work out for her. Just think, she could have just shown up at his place in the middle of the night, and all that arrogance of his would have disappeared in an instant.

"What? No, I, we, I mean, you... um... not exactly."

"What???"

A deep sigh from Rolan. "Let's not talk about it."

What's there to tell, that pathetic copy lured him, attracted him, and enchanted him, pulled him between her thighs and entertained herself with his tongue as much as she could. Afterward, he fell asleep like a dead man, and she vanished. And that would be the most modest interpretation of events. But how could he tell Tav about it, I mean, the real Tav. Moreover, now he realized that back then it really wasn't her, no, her body, but something in the look, behavior, way of speaking, was different. He felt a sense of guilt, how easily he was deceived, how fooled he was.

"And then? Anything else? Was there anything strange or was it just... um."

Now Rolan realized the full scale of what was happening, and anxiety gripped him. Someone had fooled him, an archmage, in his own home. This someone possessed knowledge of his vulnerabilities and could manipulate them with incredible precision. His only weak points - his loved ones, his family. His brother and sister, who were infinitely dear to him, might now be in danger, who knows what the criminal had in mind else. And, of course, his dear Tav, who had become so dear to his heart (although he was ashamed to admit it to himself). With whom he tried to be careful and cautious. The one who took so many risks for him, and now taught him magic. He regretted how unfairly he had treated her in the past, and now it was all repeating. "Oh, Tav.”

"Fool, what a fool!" Rolan shouts, slumping. "I pounced on you like a dirty animal, I didn't even listen to what you were saying, and then I yelled at you. Damn it! Why didn't you push me away right away?" He was filled with regret.

The lump stuck in her throat. "Just... Let's not talk about it," she said, shyly lowering her gaze. Of course, now he understood everything too. Now he knew for sure that she wanted him too. Oh, not like this, she had never imagined this moment like this. And this moment was torn away and spoiled by some creature, daring to steal her appearance. Hers, whose huge statue adorned nearby. Hers, the savior of Baldur's Gate, the legend of the Sword Coast. And if for someone it wasn't enough of an argument that they should never, (never!) cross her path, then she intended to convey that personally.

She changed the subject and continued:

"Do you have anything else to add?" Tav, observing Rolan attentively, asked. "Okay. Let's think about what it could have been. Something was able to assume my form, but it wasn't me, so it wasn't hypnosis. Perhaps some creature or magic. Was there anything else suspicious?" Tav was determined to punish these villains, whoever they were, no matter how difficult they might be to find, and whatever they might think of themselves.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Hi, could you do an NSFW for a sub male reader with Ayaka and Kokomi? I’m curious to see how the situation would play out when the roles are reversed :P

Kokomi & Ayaka x Sub!Male!Reader headcanons

A/N: Hi Anon! I didn't know how to bite into this request at first, but I decided on making a headcanon-like format. Sorry if this is a little chaotic because of that. Anyway, enjoy!

CW: Bondage, Male!Reader.

NSFW under the cut.

Kamisato Ayaka

Ayaka is a very gentle dom, which comes from her naturally shy nature. 

Constantly asks you if what she's doing is okay with you until she learns your preferences.

She's not really into hard domination, like using honorifics. She feels like calling her anything other than her name (endearments aren't allowed for subs) puts uncomfortable distance between you. 

Ayaka isn't into real bondage. The most she's going to do is tie your hands behind your back with a hairband or some silk ropes. 

Because it's not seeing you tied and vulnerable that gets her going - it's the knowledge that you do it willingly. 

She knows that, at any point, you could break the bindings, lift her up and take revenge for all that pussy rubbing and teasing she does. Yet you don't. And that's what's hot in it for Ayaka. 

Despite being the sub, you'll be the top in bed most of the time, because Ayaka likes being the bottom. But still, you'll have a nice collar or some soft rope around your cock, or even better - lightly stretching your sack. Just so you don't forget who's really in charge. 

She'll mark you outside of bed as well. You'll get luxurious clothing and jewelry, all containing some rendition of the Kamisato crest so everyone can see who you belong to. 

After some decent time, you'll get to see Ayaka's '"evil'" side. All of her life she had been jealous of other couples, and now that she has you, she's going to give everyone a taste of their own medicine. The clothes you'll wear will be custom made. More often than not the garderobe she picks for you reveals even a small part of your chest. All of this to make other girls jealous of Ayaka's 'snack'. 

Expect any trousers she'll get you to be a little on the tighter side. Not too tight, but small enough to make your bulge more visible. 

Ayaka will also make sure to hold your hand, so others know you're already taken. 

She loves you, and would like to show it by appreciating your whole body. She can do that now, since you're unwilling unable to resist. 

Expect three-hour long baths with Ayaka constantly hovering over you. She is the dominant here, so it's her duty to keep her little pet nice and clean. Also, it's a great opportunity to touch every single inch of your skin. 

She'll gently wash your hair, clean you up and down with a sponge, clip your nails and shave both your face and your cock to her own liking. 

These procedures could be done by you or any of her servants, but nothing gives her more pleasure than getting to take care of you. 

This lasts so long because poor Ayaka gets distracted two or three times during it. You're just so irresistible…

Sangonomiya Kokomi

Kokomi is the leader of Watatsumi, and the commander of its army. She has a lot of men under her command, willing to give or do anything for her. But having one of them, especially someone as special as you, to do with as she pleases is entirely something else. 

She prefers to be the bottom, as she likes being the one to lie back as you think for her. But if you like being bottom, she'll oblige. 

Don't expect your relationship outside of sexy time to change. Kokomi puts quite a thick wall between the two. 

Since she has power over you, it’s obvious she’ll make a few rules. 

Expect to lose the right to wear a shirt when you’re at home. Your chest, stomach and back, be they muscular or not, are her favorite eye candies. And if you spend a day inside together, the privilege of having clothes will be completely revoked. 

Good luck trying to do anything requiring more than an hour in that predicament. Kokomi reserved herself the right to use you whenever she wants, and she is willing to act on that. 

You’ll be cooking something, and suddenly you’ll feel a pair of hands roaming around your stomach under the apron, and a soft pair of lips on your back. 

Most of the time, you’ll have vanilla sex with Kokomi on top, doing most of the work and setting the pace. 

There are, obviously, times when she’s feeling a little kinkier. 

Kokomi loves the noises you make. She doesn’t get a lot of them during standard sessions of bouncing up and down your cock, and the priestess feels it’s a real shame. Nobody makes cuter sounds than you.

You’ll be on a first name basis with handcuffs. As your hands will be tied behind your back, you’ll become Kokomi’s instrument. 

Her tools? A bullet vibe and some lube.

God she gets so wet at your whines and moans as the vibrator buzzes away at your cock head. She loves how you cry when she pulls it away, just in time to avoid a cum leakage. 

Until Kokomi’s ears are pleased, there’s no cumming for you. And that can be a very, very long time.

If she’s not in the mood, but still wants to enjoy your body, she’ll grab some rope and tie you up very nicely. Shibari is quite the kink for her.

If you see no problem with that, Kokomi will snap a few pictures of your bound and gagged form. Don’t worry - they’ll end up only in her personal little album, to go through when you’re away.

Thanks for reading!

[racfoam]

be proud ch 1 NSFW graveyard scene what-if snippet

I spent 8 hours wracking my brain around this and I’m still not satisfied with it. Let me know in the replies how it is. Also, should I add it into chapter 2 but change the surrounding? 🤔

Notes: Harry is paralyzed for the entirety of this scene. Some things are deliberately kept vague because Harry is emotionally exhausted and has a sort of shutdown.

Warnings: Underage, Non-Con, Smut, Explicit Content, Improper Use of the Soul Bond

Voldemort readjusted Harry’s thighs in his hands, the sharp nails of his fingers digging into Harry’s skin. Harry whimpered at the press of them, deep and rough, tearing the barrier of cloth of the trousers, leaving crescent marks on her skin. No barrier seemed good enough now. It all turned into feeble shields that shattered upon the slightest touch of his fingers. 

Upon the discomforting sound, the grip softened, skeletal fingers spreading over the flesh, holding. The pads of his fingers started rubbing soothing circles on the places where they dug too deep.

Voldemort sighed, sounding in a deep state of bliss. The hands trailed up her legs, trailing up, over the shape of her hips. The touch left sunlight in its wake.

Harry whimpered. 

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to the side of her right cheek. His right hand dipped under her shirt, landing flat on Harry’s lower back. The coldness of it sent a surprised jolt over Harry. Another sob shook her body. She was so drained that she barely noticed it sliding up, the fingers gliding along her spine.

It felt like being in a trance. 

Teeth grazed at the skin of her earlobe. A hot, velvet tongue momentarily flicked out, gliding over the shell of Harry’s ear, trailing saliva, wet like poison. Harry could do nothing except take it.

The coil of fear inside her stomach was soothed and comforted by the soul bond until the cram was all but gone. The quickened heart rate was slowing down. The terrified heart melted into the embrace of comfort, calming down. 

“That’s it, Harry,” whispered Voldemort, caressing her ear with his voice. “Relax.”

Gold rushed through her blood. Something inside of Harry’s core clenched, liquified, and she felt a pulse of her heartbeat between her thighs.

Voldemort must have felt the pulse, the stutter of the mound pressed against his stomach, because the grip of his hands tightened on Harry’s back and right thigh. 

“Harry,” he hissed, dark, wanton and deep. It resounded all across Harry’s body, sending shivers down to her toes, hanging uselessly down his lower back. 

The hand on the back pulled her closer, pressing Harry’s pelvis tighter to his stomach.  The kisses turned open-mouthed, trailing down Harry’s throat, hot, touching vigorously. Teeth grazed at the skin of her neck, causing another shiver. Biting down, they dug gently — firmly — into the flesh. Then, the tongue glided over the indent shaped in the form of his teeth, soothing the little hurt away with its warmth.

Shudders juddered down Harry’s spine, heat flushing her face, and she was very glad her chin was laid on his shoulder, that he wasn’t looking at her with his piercing, red eyes. The mouth wrapped around the skin and sucked.

Harry whimpered.

It was the biggest mistake of her life.

Without warning, Harry’s back pressed against a hard, old stone. There was nowhere to go now. Fingers grasped her cheeks, dragged her unmoving head up. Momentarily, Harry made eye-contact with the cat-like, red eyes, simmering with hunger, want and fascination before the serpentine face closed the distance between their mouths. A mouth covered hers, the same velvet tongue slipping past her parted lips into the cavern of her mouth. 

Harry thought she went blind, breathing out as Voldemort kissed her. It felt like molten lava, like she was touching a star, bathing in sunlight. All Harry could feel was the sense of belonging, safety, and the strange electricity tingling everywhere Voldemort touched, flooding with the warmth of gentle sunlight. 

Somehow, Harry couldn’t process what was happening. She was incapable of feeling any emotion, having been dragged through each one in the last hour. Moving was impossible. Disgust burned inside her stomach.

Voldemort parted, nudged Harry’s head back to land atop his right shoulder, and continued kissing her neck, every inch of it, his kisses like melting snowflakes.

“Mine,” he whispered, hissing, sibilant, possessive, tightening his hold on her until it felt he would break her bones under his fingers. “You’re mine.”

The right hand slid down, out from her shirt, and Harry would have cried in relief was the hand now not sliding down her arse, four long fingers extending over the land of clothed skin before squeezing tight, and the thumb delving between her legs and pressing firm over the outline of her —

Voldemort distracted Harry with a kiss to the throat. It didn’t help. Harry felt violently ill. Suddenly, that lone finger was all Harry could feel, front to back, its end pressing against the clothed little flesh of muscle with nerves that was suddenly the most dangerous weapon against her.

Then, it started moving. Brushing against the clothed folds protected by two layers of thin fabric. Rubbing between them. Sending something unknown and pleasant to that same spot. A continous attention, an increasing burning, the length of his thumb rubbing tight across the trousers, over and over, and over again. 

The long thumb kept brushing between her thighs, up and down, up and down, gliding, pressing firmly into the thin barrier of her trousers and knickers. 

Voldemort sighed against Harry’s shoulder. He retracted his thumb and fingers, sliding his hand over Harry’s waist instead, pressing her harder into the stone.

“Do you remember, Harriet?” asked Voldemort, fingers and voice caressing reverently, preciously. “What I told you I would do once I have my body again?”

Harry’s heart beat in her ears, pounding a painful tattoo.

“I will have you,” he hisses, the promise coming back to shake the very core of Harry’s trembling body and heart. 

Voldemort pulled Harry lower, her pelvis sliding down his stomach. Lower. Lower. Lower. A short descent, but no less important.

Now, Harry’s pelvis was snug around his waist. Suddenly, Harry realized why Voldemort had kept her pelvis pressed flush to his stomach instead of his hips.

Something protruded beneath the cloth of Voldemort’s thin, black robe. Harry knew it because she felt it, pressing intimately against her pelvis, hard, upright and stiff.

Harry’s legs went numb.

It didn’t matter that they were both clothed. Voldemort made due with that, unbothered by the fabric between them. There were worse obstacles Voldemort conquered to hold Harry in his arms and taste her lips. 

All to fill his promise to her.

Then, a small rock of hips between the fleshy folds of tissue, the drag of him throbbing, powerful, across the clit, the inner skin folds. A thrilling surge shot between her thighs. Something inside her melted at the press of him, and everything up until that moment failed in comparison. 

Harry gasped into his neck.

Voldemort bucks into Harry, grabs her waist tight, and starts moving, repeating the motion, over and over again, sliding from the clit to the end, retreating the same path, thrusting forward and backward. It isn’t the entire length of him, which Harry is grateful for. 

Voldemort continued moving, a rhythm of his hips that Harry doesn’t follow. 

Voldemort continued grinding against Harry. He kept Harry safe and tucked into him, squeezing her tight and flush as he moved, stimulating more heat and friction with every stroke.

The lipless mouth hover over Harry’s lips, the red eyes pierce into her soul, half-lidded with desire, and he breathes a cold breath on the surface  before he delivers another roll of his hips, sensual and slow.

Harry closes her eyes and waits for him to be done, endures his kisses and his bites, and his tongue, trailing down her neck as he murmurs during the movement of his hips, pressing into her own, “My Harry, mine, mine.” and when Harry whimpers, he shushes her softly, the hiss resounding across her ear. “Shh, Harry. We’re almost done, darling.”

The almost done feels like another lie, because no matter how still Harry stays, no matter how she endures everything, grateful for the cloth of his robe and cursing the soft fabric of her pants, it feels like it takes forever before Voldemort hisses, “Yesss, yess…” and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder, grunting louder, a guttural sound of a monster taking his prize, the rebirthed taking his gift. “Harry, Harry…”

The thrusts become uneven, hard, fast, and then he pumps a few more times, shivers and throbs between her legs, his fingers digging bruises from the deep hold on Harry’s skin, the fabric of his cloak suddenly damp.

His hot breath fans against her neck, and he continues holding her, hip to hip, breasts to chest, as he softens against her.

Harry breathes. In, out, in, out.

Voldemort readjusts Harry, relocating his hands back on her spine and under the upper thigh of her right leg.

Harry sniffles, but refuses to release another sound not to trigger Voldemort to start comforting her again. 

After a few moments, Voldemort laughs. It is a warm, delighted sound. He sounds happy, pleased.

He kisses Harry on the cheek again, smiling all the while, and squeezes her close to him.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Oh hey what if you wrote anaroceit with one of them(extra love if its janus) having a bad day and so they cuddle and take a nap together?

Fit For Kings

----

Janus is stressed out and overwhelmed by a discussion that quickly devolves into arguing, Roman sets about helping him - and Virgil too - out in the most extravagant and perfect way possible.

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: one or two suggestive comments (if there's anything i should add please lmk)

Pairings: Anaroceit

Word count: 1596

Notes: Thank youuu for the prompt!! This was really fun to write and really got me back into the spirit I think, if anyone else wants to send me fluff prompts (or... any prompts at all) please hmu :D

I really hope this is good! haha, enjoy!

----

If they were just going to ignore him, Janus thought, then there wasn’t much point in him being there.

So he left, sank out back to his room without a word, flung his capelet and bowler hat unceremoniously onto a chair and snapped his fingers. His outfit, while so familiar, had become too hot, too itchy and almost outright unbearable as the conversation had gone on. It changed into a far too large black and purple sweater he had stolen from Virgil at some point and looser, more comfortable trousers too. He’d crawled helplessly onto his bed and wrapped himself tight in a blanket he had stolen from Roman’s room because he was - as Remus described him - a thieving little goblin and rocked gently back and forth in his little ball. 

It was okay, it would be fine. It wasn’t like this was a super important issue that could hurt Thomas’ mental health even more if it wasn’t sorted right. It wasn’t like Patton and Logan kept advocating against him because despite his ‘acceptance’ they still thought he couldn’t suggest anything helpful. 

So they were arguing with Roman who - while he was on his side and Janus was eternally grateful for that - didn’t exactly know the ins and outs of the situation, it not really being his department. And Virgil had already been having a bad anxiety day and left earlier in the discussion because arguing with Patton got so repetitive and frustrating and - well Janus wasn’t even sure how he himself had lasted so long.

And not to mention Remus had been there, which wasn’t… the most helpful, with the circumstances. He’d been riling up both Patton and Roman, and freaking Virgil out as he did so and honestly no wonder Virgil left when he did. Janus wanted to summon him, since everyone else was probably still arguing, but… he couldn’t deny that he felt a little bad about doing so when Virgil wasn’t faring well himself.

Maybe… less of a summoning, more of a gentle tug? Just to… let Virgil know he could come if he wanted to? But if he didn’t want to come, would he feel guilty and come anyway? But-

Whatever, he’d probably summon Virgil anyway if he started overthinking it too much. He sighed, closing his eyes and gently tugging on the mental string that kept them all connected as sides, whispering Virgil’s name down the bond before closing his eyes and burrowing into the blanket that he kept himself wrapped in. 

“Jan?” Virgil’s voice said, his head immediately popped up from the blanket to find Virgil standing next to his bed, “You okay? You called…”

Janus shrugged, reaching a hand out of his blanket cocoon for Virgil, who took it only to be pulled closer onto the bed. He yelped in surprise, before sitting up properly and moving closer until Janus could wrap the blanket around him too. 

For a moment, Virgil just wrapped his arms around Janus and nuzzled his face into his shoulder. Janus smiled, finally relaxing a little as he buried his nose in Virgil’s hair. Soft and fluffy as it always was. 

“Where’s Ro?” Virgil murmured. 

“Totally not still stuck with the others,” Janus whispered back, feeling as though he would break something fragile if he spoke any louder. He felt Virgil frown against his shoulder and pulled the blanket tighter around them both.

“Did it get too much for you too?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Janus said, “That’s why I’m still up there.”

Virgil chuckled and Janus thought that a win as the corner of his own lips tugged itself up into a small smile without him trying. 

“Is this his blanket?” Virgil asked after another moment of tense but comfortable silence. 

“What? No- definitely not - I’m no thief,” Janus denied reflexively. Telling the truth was always so much harder when he was overwhelmed. 

“And I suppose you’re no liar either?” Virgil asked with a small giggle, before gently tugging at the hoodie he was wearing, “Because this is definitely my hoodie.”

“You must be mistaken, Virgil,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “Because this is my hoodie, always has been.”

“Of course of course,” Virgil rolled his eyes, “That totally explains why you give it back to me after it’s been washed and then steal it again, every single time.”

“It- it stops smelling like you when it gets washed.” Janus said, cheeks flaming, he didn’t realise Virgil had noticed!

“It’s ok,” Virgil said, smirking and squeezing him a little tighter for a moment, “I know you’re a little schemer, I think it’s cute.”

“Shut it,” Janus huffed, “I’m not cute.”

“But you still called me because you were sad and wanted cuddles?” Virgil said, “and you built a nest on your bed of stuff you stole from us?”

“Only comfy things,” Janus protested, as if that would help. Virgil snorted. 

“You’re not denying the rest though?”

“I deny everything.” Janus said, pressing his scaled cheek to Virgil’s hair. 

“D’you think Roman will come join us when he wins the argument?”

“What makes you so sure he’ll win?” Janus asked.

“Cause he’s Roman?” Virgil said as though it was obvious, “and he’s arguing your point, which was right, by the way, sorry I wasn’t more helpful, but he’ll win.”

“I’m glad you’re so confident in me, Virgil,” Said Roman, coming in through the door that very second, “And you’ll both be glad to know that I did, in fact, win the argument.”

“Hurrah,” Virgil said, raising a fist, Janus breathed a quiet side of relief, so they’d been able to avoid the mental health bullet in the end, “Join us?”

Roman grinned, not moving closer, “I would love to, dearest Stormcloud, but I have a better idea.”

“What could be better than cuddles in a blanket nest?”

“How about,” Roman said with a grin, “A luxury castle break for three?”

“Benifits of moving from this very comfortable cocoon being?” Janus asked, “C’mon Ro, advertise.”

Laughing, Roman walked over and sat down just a little ways away from them, “Onsite sauna, a banquet for just the three of us with anything you could possibly want, the comfiest beds, fit for kings, grand clothes, a guarantee than no-one will bother us until we choose to come back-”

Roman wiggled his eyebrows and Virgil found out that he was just out of punching range from their blanket cocoon.

“You had me at sauna,” Janus huffed, reluctantly peeling himself away from Virgil’s side, “Can I bring this blanket?”

“I certainly have enough blankets there-”

“I’m aware, I totally don’t want this one specifically.” Janus huffed, holding onto it a little tighter. Virgil chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek before scooting over to whisper something to Roman, who’s eyebrows shot up before he went bright red and ducked his head with a smile on his face. 

“Sorry, sorry, you can keep that blanket,” Roman said, clearly trying not to laugh, “Promise, now, c’mon, we’ve got a palace waiting for us!”

“I can’t walk,” Janus said, flopping back onto the bed, “Whatever will we do?”

“Well I suppose the only solution would be to take Virgil and leave you here by yourself-” Roman said, putting a finger to his chin as though he was pondering the issue. Virgil rolled his eyes and scooped Janus off of the bed, tossing him over his shoulder as though he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. 

“Ah- hey!” Janus yelped as Roman picked up the blanket that had been left on the bed and gently draped it over him. Virgil laughed and patted his back gently. 

“This is what you get for trying to be slick.” Virgil said, before nodding to Roman, “Will you do the honours, my Prince?”

Despite the blush that once again overtook Roman’s face at the nickname, he stepped forward and put both hands on Virgil’s other arm, sinking the three of them out to the imagination together.

—-

Virgil put Janus down once they’d sank out, and Roman gently ushered them through the massive palace gateway. 

They’d gone to the sauna, taken a dip in the bath that looked more like a pool to Janus, with beautifully fancy tiled floors and modled golden faucets and so much bubblebath, afterwards they’d gone to the banquet hall to dine on a feast fit for kings. Janus almost forgot the upset from before, as Roman hand fed him chunks of some bread that tasted perfect - still soft and warm - and Virgil giggled as he drank soup straight from the bowl. He couldn’t help but think about how Roman had done such a brilliant job of distracting them and providing relaxation for all three of them, himself included. 

Something he definitely wouldn’t lie about was the way it made him want to kiss both his partners silly and he did just that the moment Roman brought them up to what may have been the most elegantly decorated bedroom he had ever seen. When they had later collapsed onto the fluffiest, most comfortable bed Janus had ever had the pleasure of lying in, both of his partners around him, cuddling each other tightly and Roman’s blanket from back in Janus’ room covering them along with heavy duvets that seemed to radiate the most comfortable warmth…

As he closed his eyes, Janus found he had forgotten entirely about the issue from before. Now as he drifted off to sleep alongside the sounds of their breathing, he felt nothing but safe and warm and happy as can be.

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[charlottesbookclub]

Clean (General Armitage Hux)

Summary: Armitage has a particularly rough day and takes a depression shower about it

Warnings/Tags: Hux-centric (no pairing), angst, stress, memories of child abuse, Hux works too much, did I mention angst?, body image issues, insecurities, maybe just very slight SH implications?, ANGST (let me know if I missed anything!)

Words: 1,162

Author’s Note: apparently I'm on a roll with producing Hux content recently! This is just a short little fic building off a headcanon I wrote about in this post. It's an idea I've had for a while and just finally wrote it down. Hope you all enjoy even tho it's super frickin angsty and kinda sad!

(oh and the lines from Br*ndol are from the Hux comic and I think Empire's End?)

            The faint beep his door emitted as it recognized his credentials and zipped open for him sounded almost heavenly to Armitage. He barely made it into his chambers before he collapsed back against the now-closed door, sliding down until he was seated on the floor. He rested his arms on his bent-up knees, folding himself down as small as was possible given his height. There was a strange tightness in his throat, and not the kind caused by the unseeable grip of the damned Force. The passing thought of that frivolous magic snapped him back to himself, and he pushed up off of the floor in one fluid movement, knowing that if he slowed or hesitated at all, his exhausted body would decide that he would be sleeping unceremoniously slumped against his door.

            It had been a long cycle. Or was it two cycles? How long had it been since he had last rested? He shook his head minutely, trying to clear the fog of weariness that had finally allowed itself to settle in his mind. His chambers were dark except for the pale light of the stars creeping in through the large windows. He didn’t bother turning a light on. Instead, he made his way slowly to the refresher, discarding items of clothing one by one, each seeming to represent a problem that he wished he could cast off as easily as his uniform.

            First, the gloves – Ren destroying another expensive control panel. Greatcoat next – an unfortunate meeting with Snoke that left his project on a much tighter timeline than he had originally planned. One boot kicked to the side, then the other – the knowing glances cast between former Imperial officers on the bridge, sharing some joke he wasn’t privy to. His uniform top – the endless forms needing his approval and signature. The light undershirt next – the constant pinging of his comlink and datapad with requests for his time. Then his trousers – useless meetings with more insufferable Imperial veterans who just wanted to feel as though they were still valuable by giving outdated advice. Finally, his undergarments and socks – the biting headache that has been festering behind his eyes for the past… well… however many cycles it had been.

            Hux reached the refresher and didn’t bother to turn that light on either. Instead, he stepped directly into the dark-tiled shower and turned the hot water to its full capacity. Normally, he limited himself to cold showers. He felt they were more effective at waking him up – or, more often than not, freshening him up since actual sleep was something of a rarity for the general. Either way, despite the fact that his rank gave him unlimited access to hot water, he rarely indulged in the luxury. Right now though, it was what he needed more than anything.

            Steam filled the refresher, indicating that the water had reached a suitable temperature, and Armitage stepped under the current, nearly gasping at the shocking heat. For a moment, he could think of nothing else but the nearly unbearable warmth of the water as it coursed over his skin. When he had gotten somewhat habituated to the temperature on his body, he dipped his head into the stream and hissed as the water cut almost-scalding rivulets through his hair. After a few moments of exposure, his body became desensitized to the intense heat. He was left with a welcome warmth seeping into every fiber of his being. He began releasing tension he wasn’t even conscious of as the hot water unspooled it from his coiled muscles. His pristinely coiffed hair was soaked into damp strands, the gel dissolving and relinquishing its hold on his orange locks. For a few glorious moments, his mind was blissfully blank. He thought of nothing, simply absorbing the sensation of the hot water against his skin in the dark shower.

            They always crept back in though – the voices, the thoughts. What a waste of resources. How frivolous. How useless. Hux gritted his teeth then, hearing his father’s despised voice ring in his ears: “I’ve yet to find anything that Armitage isn’t utterly useless at.” He was glad he couldn’t make out much of his body in the steam-filled darkness of the refresher. He knew his pale skin was turning a humiliating shade of pink – both from the heat and from the unwanted memories. And he was thin. Scrawny. “Thin as a slip of paper and just as useless.” Armitage pressed his fist against the cool wall of the shower, putting enough force behind it that his knuckles began to hurt. Anything to drive his father’s words from his mind. As the insults and memories faded, Hux heaved a sigh. He exchanged his fist against the tile for his forehead, the press of the cold black stone bringing him back to reality. Despite his face no longer being under the current of water, he nevertheless felt warm liquid slipping down his cheeks. He scrubbed at his face with his hand, assuring himself it was nothing but beads of condensation, and situated himself back under the stream.

            He allowed himself just a few more fleeting moments under the warm water, trying to let it sap the last of the stress from his body, even though he wasn’t sure that was even possible at this point. Tension had settled deep into his bones and made itself at home there, untouchable even by the calming hands of heat that spilled over his body. Before he lost his nerve and stayed in the shower for the rest of eternity, he snapped the water off and was left suddenly shivering as the cool air of the refresher began to prick his skin. Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped himself in a robe. He caught a quick glance in the mirror, but any glimpse of his body was mercifully obscured by both the darkness and the steam collected on the reflective surface. He didn’t want to be reminded of his weak constitution now, not when he had only just banished his father’s unwelcome words.

            He stepped back out into the main room of his quarters, letting the pale starlight guide him as he inched his way carefully along the trail of discarded clothing items, collecting them as he went. On his way to his bed, he placed each in their assigned places: uniform and undergarments in the chute that connected directly to the ship’s central laundry facility, greatcoat carefully arranged on a hanger in his sparse closet, boots lined up neatly next to the door. That done, Armitage allowed himself to sink into bed, pulling the covers over his chilled body. He was almost ready to give into his aching head and sore body, to just allow himself to fall into the oblivion of sleep. Then a shrill ping interrupted that futile dream. He rolled over, pulling his datapad into bed with him to check the notification. He could always rest after responding to this message.

[dr4cking]

Bad Grade.

masterlist taglist

draco malfoy x reader | smut |

warning : professor!draco 🥵 reader is of age! and you can make up draco's age whatever you wanted.

y/n waited nervously in her class, she was early than the others and it makes her sitting alone in the class.

she had exams last week but she didnt really study for it and that was the exact reason why she was nervous today.

if she got a bad grades her parents would make sure to threatened her.

she looked up from her desk as a loud footsteps walking into the class, she found the youngest and the hottest teacher in hogwarts staring at her deeply, a smirk formed onto his face making her gulped.

"morning, miss y/n" she gets goosebumps when she heard his deep voice calling out her name.

"morning professor.." draco’s smirk get wider as he saw her body tremble in her seat, only his voice and she already like that.

"why so tense, miss y/n?"

"nothing, professor.." she replied, staying her gaze on her desk, trying so hard not to look up at him and get herself in more embarrassment.

draco clicked his tongue around his teeth making her turned her head at him instantly.

he raised his eyebrows at her sudden action.

but when he was about to taunt her more, the door burst open by the students filling the class one by one.

>>>>>

"miss y/n." she looks up at her professor as he called her name, her body jolted out at his voice echoed in the room.

"yes, professor?"

"come here, please." she gets up from her seat nervously, all her classmates already interrogating her by their eyes.

"care to explain to me why you get a P for my subject?" she swears she almost passed out at his intonation.

"i- i'm sorry professor, i wasn't study-"

"great, meet me after class, you need to fix your grade" y/n unknowingly rubbed her thighs together when draco said that, she secretly hoped he doesnt noticed that.

but he did and thats why he was trying to hide his smirk.

"yes professor, i'm sorry" she took her test and made her way back to her seat. hell, he's so intimidating.

>>>>>

after the class ended, y/n being the only one who stayed in her seat.

she sighs and stares at draco's back who was still cleaning the board.

"well, which part of my subject that you dont understand, miss y/n?" draco said as he takes a seat in front of her desk, opening her book.

"its the draught of living death potions, professor." she was trying her best to not let her voice getting shaky.

draco nodded and begin to explaining the subject to her, his fingers were pointing at her book.

but all she could think now is about the tension filling the air, and the more she stares at his fingers the dirtier her mind gets.

his hands-

merlin, even his hands are so hot. the veins decorating his arms suited him so much, and his long fingers are the perfect size to reach her spot when they're going inside her cu-

no.

y/n shook her head in disbelief at what she just imagined in her mind not realizing that draco has stopped talking.

"lost in your dirty mind, princess?" draco chuckles as he sees her cheeks heated in embarrassment, his eyes turned dark as he examining her face.

shit.

she forgot he has legilimency.

"i-"

"sshh.. i see you're not as innocent as the others think of you, yeah?" she gulped at his question, her face was flushed as the thick tension filling the room.

"no answer hm? tell me y/n, what is it that you want?" he rose up from his seat moving to stand beside her, looking down at her.

"tell me whats going on inside your dirty mind" he tilted her head to look up at him, his thumb running on her bottom lip making her shuddered.

"i- i want you, professor.." y/n said quietly not be able to look into his eyes much longer.

"want me? for what?"

"i want you burying yourself deep inside me, professor" she slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes widened at what she just said.

"filthy little thing." draco chuckles lowly before moving down his hand and grabbed her throat.

"earn it." she nodded at him before her hands shakily unbuckled his belt and his trousers letting it falls down to his ankle making draco gripped her throat tighter.

she pulled down his boxers making him hissed when his semi hard cock hitting his lower abdomen.

she quickly wrapped her hands around his length and squeezes him tightly causing him to pull on her hair.

"dont play with me if you dont wanna face the consequences." she nodded before spitting on his cock stroking it with her hand making him groaned.

y/n wasted no time and pulled him all the way in her mouth moaning when his tip hit the back of her throat.

she starts to fucked him in and out of her mouth. her hand pumping on what she couldnt fit in her mouth.

she pulled out for a second to rest her jaw then she swirls her tongue on his slit making him groaned and bucked his hips. she gagged instantly when draco pushed his cock back in her mouth, tired of her teasing.

"you look so fucking filthy, y/n. sucking your professor's cock now, hm?" she let out a moan to answer him making him whimpered at the vibrations.

one of her hands gripping on the back of his thigh pushing him deeper down her throat as she continues sucking him. her other hand playing with his balls giving them attention too.

"fuck- gonna cum down your throat til you choked out, shit- y/n" he moaned out loud as he shoots his thick cum down her throat, y/n swallowed instantly moaning at the taste. some of it dripped down onto her chin but she quickly wipes it and cleans it.

"get up" she obeyed at his order, now facing her professor at the same level.

draco leaned into her face and capturing their lips together kissing her roughly as his hands roaming around her body.

"get on your desk." she immediately throw away all her things on her desk and get on top of it, like he asked.

"you're my good girl, dont you?" he asked as he stands in between her thighs, his cock rubbing her inner thigh making her clawed on the desk underneath her.

"yes prof-"

"its draco" she nodded as she starts to unbuttoning her shirt showing him her clothed breasts.

"yes draco, i'm your good girl" she said seductively and taking his hands in her guiding them to her breasts.

"please, touch me draco.." draco squeezes her breasts in his hands and snatches her bra off of her making her winced, now she was exposed in front of her professor.

"such a pretty tits, all mine?" he twirled her hard nipples in his fingers, pulling and pinching it making the owner hissed in pain.

"yes, all yours draco.." with that draco latched his mouth onto her left nipple as his hand playing with the other one.

"mmh.. yes draco.." she tugged at his blonde locks as he continues assaulting her puffy nipples.

draco plopped out her breasts of his mouth, her nipples now red and swollen.

he gives her a smirk and he pushed her skirt up to her stomach, taking off her panties placing it in his pocket.

"souvenirs." he grins cheekily at her confused face.

he suddenly inserts his fingers into her, stretching her out a little bit making her breath hitched.

his fingers pumping her faster and when he curls them inside she screams his name out loud.

her legs spasmed when she feels her high approaching her, she dug her nails on his shoulder deeper.

but before she could reach her high, he abruptly pulled out his fingers making her cried out as her aching cunt clenching around nothing.

he quickly shoved his fingers down her throat letting her tasting herself, he moaned when he sees her sucking on her fingers delicately.

pulling her hips closer to him and lining up his now hard cock again on her entrance.

"now be a big girl and lead me into you." y/n whines as a protest but she quickly grabbed his cock and pushing it inside her.

she wrapped her legs around his waist and bucked her hips to get him deeper inside her and finally all of him was inside of her. they both throw their heads back in pleasure.

"you act so innocent yet here you are, burying my cock deep inside you." y/n moaned at his words starting to fuck herself on him.

"i'm not innocent draco, for you i'm not.. please just fuck me already" draco chuckles devilishly at her attempts to bounce on his cock.

"cant even fuck yourself properly, such a dumb girl" he gives in to her, snapping his hips forcing his cock hitting deeper inside her and starts to thrusting at steady pace.

"oh my god.. yes yes please feel so good.." she moans loudly, her body writhing on the desk. she propped herself on her elbows to support herself as she rolled her hips to meet his thrusts.

"so fucking tight baby.. never felt this good before" draco praised as he pounding harder into her, he guides her hips with his hands to meet his thrusts making both of them moaning louder.

her eyes rolled back when his tip brushed her spot, he noticed and pounding into her spot over and over again making her seeing the stars.

"draco please.. i'm so close!" y/n wrapped her hands around his shoulder to pull him closer and kissing his lips to muffled her screams as the coil tightened in her stomach.

"cum on me, you- pathetic- little slut" draco snapped harder leaving no space between their bodies.

his hand slapping and pinching her clit making the girl squirmed letting the coil snapped through her body. her legs are shaking and her vision blurry.

her body burns when she realized she just cummed hard on her professor's cock, she looked down and see that her juices coating him. then looking up at him making eye contact.

"fuck- you're a mess, gonna cum inside your tight cunt, stuffing you up full with my fucking cum- holyshit-"

he came to a full stop with her name left his lips as he spilled all of his warm thick cum inside her, spraying all of it into her filling her up like he said.

draco stay inside her for a few minutes, both of them are still catching their breaths and he pulled out of her gently as he softened.

he looked at her flushed face before cupping her cheeks and reconnecting their lips again. the kiss lasted a minute before they pulled away to redressing themselves.

"i'll change your grade. but in all seriousness, study harder, baby" y/n melted at the nickname he gave her, pecking his lips one more time.

"of course, thank you professor" she shots him a wink before leaving the class, making him blushing madly.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

i dedicate this to @angelic-bitxh cuz we have a deal of sharing ghost pics 😊🤝

tagging : @dracoscum @hellounicorn @onyourgoddamnleft @whoreforgeorgeandfred @turn-to-page-394-please @underappreciated-spoon-321 @youreso-golden @silverdelirium @littlemissnoname13 @dracmalf0y-dm @dlmmdl @f4iryluvy @starstruckgranger @yiamalfoy @lieswithoutfairytales @drxcolvr @black-repunzel99 @seriouslyinlove @slut4dracoo @alexthealexthealex

[blindingdutchy]

No but tom fucking me while he wears a hoodie is something I have spent a LOT of time thinking about

okay okay, i couldn't see this and NOT write something so...

lazy lover | t.holland

{boyfriend!tom x fem!reader}

word count: 2,022

warnings: smut... as expected

warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), oral (f receiving)

Moments like these were your absolute favorite. Just you and Tom, cuddled up on the sofa with the soft illumination of the television solely lighting the room. It was storming outside--loud, heavy rumbles of thunder shaking the house slightly, and you could just barely make out the startling flashes of lightning over the tops of the closed drapes.

Perfect weather for snuggles and scary movies, but Tom being the softy he is absolutely refused to watch anything of the sort. So, you'd resigned to watching some romantic comedy for the millionth time. If you were honest, you hadn't watched a single moment of it; instead, you had spent the past hour just closing your eyes in bliss as you carded your fingers through your boyfriend's messy curls and smiled each time he giggled at the screen.

He was your favorite movie, by far. You wished you could see his face, but from this angle you could just barely make out the adorable crinkle of his nose each time he grinned. Tom was sprawled out on top of you, his head nestled over the middle of your chest, and his legs were all tangled up with your own as he laid between them.

It was more than a little stifling in the room as you were caught up in the heat of his body radiating through his lavender hoodie and your own, both of your sweatpants clad lower limbs wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. Somehow, in both of your minds, the storm had translated to meaning cold, when in fact that was far from the case. It was cozy, though, and that made up for the slight dampening on your hairline.

"Princess?"

"Hm?" you hummed, that all too familiar flutter in your heart buzzing out through your body at the sound of Tom's sweet voice.

He nuzzled his face further into your chest, nose buried in the space between your breasts as his hot breathe scorched you through the fabric. "Mmmf yew," he mumbled, and you chuckled at the muffled sound of his words. Picking up his head, your breathe hitched at the darkened hue of his eyes beneath heavy lashes as he repeated, "Miss you."

Cozy turned to hot in an instant. In all the time you'd been dating Tom, you'd come to know one thing--miss you was not something he ever said when you'd been apart for too long. No, miss you was only spoken whenever the two of you had been too close for too long, and he was missing a little something more.

Tom's arms wrapped tighter around your middle, his face burying back into the bunched fabric between your breasts as he lazily pressed opened mouthed kisses through the soft cotton. He left a trail of wet patches in his wake, and your fingers froze in his hair as he found your hardened nipple under your shirt and wrapped his lips around it. "Tom." you gasped.

You tugged at his hair gently, coaxing his face away from your now dampened shirt to look at you. His lips were puffy and reddened from the fabric, a few pressure marks stretching across his right cheek, and he looked so... soft. He looked warm and inviting, like a mug of hot cocoa on a cold winter evening or a crackling fire during a snow storm.

Not a word had to be said for him to know what you wanted. He scooted up the sofa and further over your body until his center was pressed into yours, his lips coming down onto your own in a lazy, slow kiss. You sighed into him, parting his lips with your own as you abandoned his hair to slip your hands under his sweatshirt and trace your fingers over his bare skin.

It was languid and sleepy, like a fire that had burned itself down to a hot, glowing ember. Tom's arms were planted on either side of your head, caging you in place as he dragged his kiss from your lips and down to your jaw. He nipped at the sensitive skin behind your ear, swiping his tongue over the flesh until you whined and he sucked hard to leave a mark of his own.

"Tom, please," you whimpered, rocking your hips up into him, "I need you."

He grinned into your neck, leaving another mark for good measure before he sat up onto his knees between your legs. There was something so beautiful about him like that; this soft, sweet man bundled up in cozy layers that heavily contrasted the dark, heady burn of his gaze. His fingers tugged at the waistband of your pants, and you lifted your hips to help him drag them from your legs--panties too, leaving you bare aside from the baggy sweatshirt that had ridden up your stomach.

Eyes glued to the warmth between your legs, Tom licked his lips, "Fuck, I've missed you so much."

You bit your lip hard, shivering as his fingers ghosted over the chilled skin of your now bare thigh. Already knowing exactly what he was thinking of, you pleaded, "Please, I just want you--"

"Hush, darling," he simpered, "I want to have a taste."

Tom climbed off of the sofa, dropping to his knees on the floor beside you as he grasped your hips in his hands. Thumbs soothing over the skin, he pulled until your legs were dangling from the edge and your core was inches from his face. His eyes truly sparkled then, glimmering at you lustfully as he smiled to himself.

He didn't waste any time teasing, and your hands fluttered helplessly around you to try and ground yourself when you felt his lips wrap mercilessly around your clit. Diving in head first, literally, Tom gripped your thighs to keep them spread apart as he licked fat stripes through your folds. Sparks shot through your entire body each time he curled his tongue around your bud, swirling and sucking around the nub tirelessly.

It was a little pathetic how easily he pulled you to the edge, your stomach all twisted up in knots as you trembled all over. What else was to be expected though, when the two of you had been together for so long? Tom knew your body like the back of his hand, an expert in all the little things that made you tick--like the way his eyes flickered up to watch you watch him make you feel good.

The sight of his brown eyes watching you like a hunter watching his prey, dark and greedy, got you every time. Squeezing your thigh, Tom teasingly kissed your clit and pulled away with a cheeky wink at your groan of frustration. The tension in the pit of your stomach ebbed away, the quivering of your legs ceasing as he patted your hip and mumbled, "Slide up, princess."

Cooing at the name you loved to hear him speak, you scooted back up the sofa until your head fell onto the armrest once more. He didn't even take his pants off when he climbed back up between your legs, arms caging in your head once more. His lips tasted of you as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth as you tugged at his pants eagerly.

"Please, Tommy, I miss you."

Tom's breathe hitched at the sound of you speaking his words, and a little desperately he inched his pants down just enough to free his length from them. You moaned at the sensation of his warm skin falling against your thigh, his tip slipping across the slick mess dripping down your legs. Not wanting to wait for him to make the first move, you reached down to wrap your fingers around him.

He hissed at the contact, hips instinctively rutting into the contact as he groaned, "Fuck, princess--"

The words were lost as you dragged his tip through your folds, teasing your clit for a moment before lining him up. His eyes screwed shut as he sank into you, lips parted in a silent oath, and he crumpled down until his chest was pressed to your own. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you clutched the fabric of his sweatshirt in tight fists as you arched off the couch in pleasure.

Giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch, Tom buried his face into your neck with a muffled moan, "Always feel so perfect, princess. So tight f'me every time."

Tom rocked into you slowly, nudging deeper and making you whimper as you clenched around him. You didn't have to say a word for him to get the message--his hips pulling back before pushing forward again deeply. It felt as if you could feel every last bit of him; every line and ridge of his length dragging along your walls perfectly as you moaned.

You were clawing at his back, fingers slipping over the cotton that was somehow far more slippery than bare skin. If you had thought it was hot in the room before, it was nothing compared to the sweltering temperature between the two of you in that moment. Your hoodie was bunching further under your breasts with each of Tom's thrusts, the fabric of his own scratching at your bare skin from multiple angles.

Sure, you'd had sex with clothes on plenty of times. Rushed and risky encounters in pub bathrooms, your dress bunched up around your hips and his trousers pulled down to his thighs, but this? Tom, suddenly so desperate for you, fully dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants on the sofa? This was new, and it was hot.

The movements were lazy and slow, his lips sleepily suckling at your neck as he panted into your skin and moaned in your ear huskily. You were a withering mess, sweating all over and trying to hold onto him in any way you could to keep from drifting away in bliss. Each sloppy thrust into your heat had you calling his name, begging for that release to finally wash over you.

"Tom, 'm close."

He leaned further onto one arm, lifting the opposite shoulder to slip his hand between the two of you. His hips never faltered as he swiped his fingers through the slick mess between your legs, swirling around your clit smoothly. "Cum for me, princess, wanna feel you." he encouraged, dark eyes blearing down at you hazily.

His cheeks were all red, and his curls were sticking to his forehead with sweat. Lips parting, you panted desperately for air as your stomach began to tighten immeasurably. It was almost too much--the look of him, the feel of his cock languidly finding its home deep within you, over and over. His fingers still rubbing slow, deep circles to your sensitive bundle.

With a sharp inhale, you cried out, "T-Tom!"

The knots in your belly exploded, stars bursting in your eyes as you clenched your entire body around him. Thighs squeezing his waist tightly, fingers clawing so harshly into his sweatshirt you finally found purchase in the skin of his back, and your walls clamped down around his length. "Oh, fuck, princess!" he heaved, eyes screwing shut and nose crinkling as he stuttered in his movements.

Tom's lips parted in a guttural cry before he dropped onto you entirely, arm pinned between you as he continued to ride you through your orgasm with his fingers. He pulsed inside of you, and after a few seconds he gave a loud sigh as a warmth spread through you. Your legs were trembling as you dropped them onto the sofa again, smoothing over the fabric of his hoodie as you finally released your grip.

But, when he moved to pull away, you pulled him back and mumbled sleepily, "Can we just stay like this for a bit?"

Smiling with heavy eyelids, Tom nodded and kissed you softly, easing back down again. You groggily brushed the curls from his forehead and grinned back, humming in appreciation when he rested his head on your shoulder again. His lips ghosted over your neck as he murmured, "I love you, darling. S'much."

"I love you, Tom."

[bump1nthen1ght]

Forest Fun (Male!Reader x Tentacle Monster)

Pairing: Male!Reader/Tentacle Monster

Warnings: NSFT (18+ content) ahead, Dubious Consent, Breeding, Aphrodisaics

Word Count: 1448 Words

Summary: You encounter a creature in the woods, a creature all too eager to keep you to themselves.

Request: hi! can i request an nsfw tentacle monster x male reader? maybe dubcon and breeding if thats okay, i just feel theres a lack of tentacle nsfw on here. thank you and i hope you have a good day!

When you’re finally able to open your eyes, your entire body feels like solid cement. Each miniscule movement is tiresome, like swimming through a thick soup and drowning under the excess pressure.

You’re exhausted, but your senses are slowly returning to you. There's something moving, undulating, all around you. You can feel the muscles pushing and stretching across your body, caressing every nook and cranny. You’re so tired that it almost feels like a massage.

“Hnng...Hmm..” You moan, finding that only your face is untouched by….whatever it is that’s fondling you. The air is muggy and hot, your whole body coated in a light sheen of sweat. Your clothes rub uncomfortably against your skin. You want them off, you want them off now.

“Pretty….Pretty boy.”

A voice whispers, slow and raspy. The unfamiliar tone and it’s breath brushing against the back of your neck should send you running, but you’re so tired. The voice is so soothing, so full of adoration, you can’t help but sink into its tendrils.

The mass of tentacles begins to move you, pushing you further up and away from the ground. They continue to caress and fondle you, but a couple apply pressure; Spreading open your legs or sneaking under your work shirt.

That’s right, you were working. You had heard from your neighbors that the peaches from the forest were so juicy and delicious, they would fill your stomach for days. You had gone at the crack of dawn, heeding your Mother’s warning about the dangerous night, with a packed day-bag and your foraging clothes. After that, things are blurry.

You involuntarily gasp as a tentacle brushes against your crotch. The tiny touch sends shockwaves up your belly and down into your toes. A low purr vibrates against your back. The tentacles around your legs slowly move up your thighs, their grip growing tighter as they grow tantalizingly close to your growing bulge. You find yourself thrusting your hips upward, desperate for that fleeting sensation once more.

A tentacle slowly slithers up your shoulder and to your neck, affectionately squeezing at your jugular before coming up to pet your jaw. Your eyes lazily sweep down to it, lips parted as your breath grows heavier and heavier. That tentacle brushes against your bottom lip, pulling it down, admiring the color as your face grows more and more flushed.

In a quick movement, one tentacle wraps and boldly squeezes your erection, pressing through the pant’s fabric. You gasp and the tentacle near your mouth takes its chance; A thick, sugary liquid drops from it’s tip, right into your mouth.

The liquid glides down your throat like honey, leaving behind a thick coating and stirring a strong sensation in your gut.

You thought you were hot before, but the molten magma that shoots through your veins like adrenaline proves you so hilariously unprepared. Every nerve feels inflamed, your body burning but very much alive. The humid tentacles feel like cool aloe vera, temporarily satiating your overwhelming desire. You can’t help but moan around the tentacle which creeps into your mouth and begins playing with your tongue.

“....More…”

Two tentacles begin fondling your cock through your pants, one focusing on your balls while the other focuses on your sensitive head. The moan that leaves you is positively sinful, one which the tentacles like very, very much.

“Cute noises.” The voice whispers, echoing all round your head. It makes a sound very similar to a chuckle as you continue to groan from it’s ministrations, a damp spot forming at the center of your pants. “Want more.”

One tentacle leaves your weeping cock, deftly undoing your trouser buttons and pulling them down. It’s assisted by several other tentacles, which pet your thighs as they are revealed to the outside. Your underwear quickly follows.

Your moans devolve into whimpers and grunts as a tentacle wraps around the base of your cock, slowly working it’s way up to the head. It plays with the globs of pre-cum, massaging it into your shaft. The other tentacles resume fondling your balls, it’s sticky underside imitating the feeling of a tongue, sucking and tugging.

A cold wetness drips down your cock and into the crevice of your ass, forcing you to jerk  and clench your lower body. A smaller tentacle follows it, kneading the moisture into your skin before tentative poking at your asshole. Your body clenches once more and even the unabashed lust you feel doesn’t assuage your anxiety.

“Don’t worry.” The voice whispers, a tentacle soothingly stroking up your chest and shoulders. “Feel good, it will feel really good.”

You gag around the tentacle in your mouth, trying to voice your protests, but a tight squeeze to your cock silences it with a moan. The tentacle caressing your ass continues, rubbing the natural lube around your tight hole and lightly prodding it with it’s tip.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your shirt soaked through with sweat. Tentacles writhe underneath the fabric, pushing it up and over your nipples, tweaking them with a surprising amount of dexterity. The streaks of pleasure that run down your abdomen causes you to relax your muscles, your mind easily distracted by the delicious feeling. The tentacle groping your tongue leaves your mouth, uninhibiting your languid moans. In that moment, another tentacle pushes into your asshole.

“A-Ah!”

“See?” The voice laughs, slurred and drunk on lust, “Feels good.”

The voice is right; Although the shock had caused your lower body to tighten, the tingles of euphoria wracking your body quickly overshadowed any uncomfortableness. The pressure is foreign but the way the tentacle writhes and presses against your insides has your keeling for more. The tentacle widens in girth as it goes deeper and deeper, the pressure on your cock feeling more and more jarring as it stretches you open.

Your tongue rolls out of your mouth, saliva pooling down your chin as the tentacle writhes inside of you. Your eyes begin to lose focus, all your energy hyperattentive to touch, smell, the sounds of this creature gleefully pleasing you.

“Like that? Pretty boy likes it?”

You nod, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the tentacle around your cock squeezes your cock-base.

“Sooo...good.” You slur, hips lazily thrusting back into the tentacle, craving something more. “Faster, faster. Please.”

The creature acquiesces, the tentacle picking up its pace and fucking you harder. It leaves only the tip with each thrust, before shoving it and hitting your prostate. Another tentacle wraps around your cock, focusing on your shaft while the other fondles your head, almost savoring the taste of your sweaty dick. You feel your balls begin to tighten as the sensations overwhelm you, your noises devolving into hasty breathes and squeaks.

“Please, please-” You don’t even know what you are begging for at this point. You just know you need it and you need it fast.

“Yesssss.” The creature hisses. “Want our cum? Pretty boy wants us to fill him up?” You nod, nearly crying as the tentacles around your cock halt and the tentacle in  your ass slows it’s pace. “We will do it, fuck pretty boy full of us. But,” The tentacle around your cock-head pulses and you nearly jump from the pleasure, “We want pretty boy’s cum too. Want to feel it.”

You nod your head desperately.

“Yes! Yes, you can have it, anything! Please, just give me all your cum, please.”

The creature  purrs against your neck, it’s tentacles easily proceeding. You let out a cry of relief as the tentacle fucking your asshole grows sloppier and sluppier with it’s thrusts. The tentacles wrapped around your cock stroke you with a frenzy, that rising heat in your belly slowly reaching it’s apex.

“Fuck, fuck!” You shout.

“Yes, yes, pretty boy. Cum, cum for us.” The creature growls.

In a crashing wave, your orgasm washes over you. Your cum shoots through the air, covering your lower belly and even your chest. Tentacles quickly wrap all around your torso, lapping it up from your skin.

The tentacle in your ass keeps thrusting, pushing through the aftershocks of your orgasms, before it begins to spasm. A gush of hot liquid coats your insides, all other tentacles constricting around you as stream after stream of cum fills you.

It’s hard to catch your breath, even form a thought, as you sink into post-orgasm exhaustion. The tentacles continue to pet you,  but even their movements are sluggish as they massage your thoroughly wrecked body. Your clothes have been half-hazardly strewn about the forest, your naked bottom dripping and exposed to the elements. But neither you or the creature seem to care.

[wheelsup]

okay but can you imagine spencer washing your hair for you?

like, i never (ever) let anyone (at all) touch my hair, but i feel like he'd be really gentle about it, and there is just something so soft and tender to me about the idea of washing someone's hair for them 🥺

that’s my dream <3 ik you didnt specifically ask for a blurb but i think about this very often. i wrote two versions of this, but this one (with two bickering best friends who are v much in love) won my heart. 

wc: 1.6k   contains: friends (to crushes, maybe ;) ), injured reader. gn!reader

-

“Spence, I promise you that I can do it by myself,” you huffed, attempting to yank off your tank top as you walked toward the hotel bathroom, using only one arm while trying to keep the other as still as possible.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you didn’t sound like you were going to cry,” he snickered, following hot on your trail as you tried to escape his hovering. 

“You’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh really? Lift your arm up, then.” He leaned his hip against the marble counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for you to do it. One obnoxiously smug eyebrow arched on his forehead.

Sometime during the case, you’d gotten into a brief tousle with a suspect, who just had to run away when approached. If Morgan had been there, you wouldn’t have even batted a lash, but he wasn’t. So not only had you detained him by yourself, you also wound up with a minor pulled muscle in your shoulder. 

You shot him a sarcastic smile, toothless and irritated, and raised your right arm into the air. He let out an airy scoff. 

“Other one, smart ass.”

Your arm dropped down to your side, your smile falling with it as you turned sharply towards the shower. 

“Look, I’m disgusting right now. So either I suck it up and shower, or you’re going to smell me until the day we solve this case.”

Spencer’s nose crinkled at the gross truth. He wasn’t ungentlemanly enough to tell you, but sharing a bed with a coworker was quite a quick way to discover if they were in need of a shower or not. Your shoulder might be out of service, but both of you could agree that hygiene was a bigger priority. 

“You can’t even move. Just… just let me help you.”

You snorted. “Nice try, Reid. I’m not letting you shower with me.”

He rolled his eyes at your use of his last name. You only called him that when you were annoyed with him. He pushed off the counter and turned to the wall, hitting the light switch and earning a shriek from you as the room suddenly went dark. 

“I won’t look,” he shrugged, amusing no one but himself. 

“You’re a clown, you know that?” you muttered under your breath, drawing back the shower curtain and fumbling around, searching for the knobs in pitch black. “Absolutely fucking theatrical.” 

You found them moments later and ran the water, testing the temperature on the back of your hand. By the time it went from cold to warm, you noticed that he still hadn’t moved. From the sliver of light peeking under the door, you could make out just his silhouette in the corner, perched on the vanity. 

He was being stubborn about this. That, and the comforting fact that you couldn’t see a single thing –– thankfully, not even his face –– wore you down.

“Close your eyes,” you murmured. 

“It’s already pitch black in here ––”

“Close your eyes, Reid.”

Sighing through his nose, he did just that. To make sure you knew it, and also maybe just to be annoying, he made a show of getting off the counter and turning himself around to face the wall. You peeled out of your clothes as quickly as you could. In the process, you caught the long shower curtain under the heel of your foot and, as you stumbled over it, accidentally dragged it along, sending the metal curtain hooks screeching as they slid along the bar.  

The second you found your ground, you immediately shot daggers into the back of Spencer’s head, waiting for him to make a joke. As if he could feel them, he bit back his quip. Not without letting a barely contained cackle slip under his breath. 

“Okay,” you warned, stepping into the shower. Grabbing the end of the shower curtain, you pulled it tightly over your body to cover yourself as you poked your chin out to talk to him. “I’m in.”

Spencer turned and approached the shower, eyes still shut with his hands out in front of him, feeling the walls for guidance. He was still mocking you for making him close his eyes. You raised your brows; he must’ve thought he was quite funny. 

“You look like Velma when she loses her glasses.”

That knocked the funny bone right out of him. His hands dropped to his sides.

“Just get your hair wet and hand me the shampoo.” 

You drew the curtain shut again as you dipped your head under the shower stream, coming back moments later with sopping wet hair and a little bottle of complimentary hotel shampoo. 

He let you sit on the floor of the bathtub, just slightly removed from the spray of the water. Your back was to him, as he kneeled down on the tile floor, just outside of the bathtub so he didn’t have to get wet. You bent your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them.

Spencer first pushed up the sleeves of his sweater as far as he could before deciding to remove it altogether for the sake of protecting the wool against stray water. The cuffs of his work shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows as he got to work.

Taking a healthy quarter-sized amount of shampoo into his palm, he lathered it between his hands before running soapy fingers through your scalp. The pads of his fingertips softly dug in as he carefully massaged the shampoo in.

When he started working his fingers in patterns, putting pressure near your temples and increasing it as he dragged them up the curve of your scalp, you let your eyes close. He was getting rid of a headache you didn’t even realize you had. 

The tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders eased a little, and it made him think about how much you probably needed this. One of his hands came down to massage the muscle between your neck and your good shoulder, knowing it was best to just let the hot water do its magic on the bad one. 

When the shampoo had been sufficiently lathered, he stood up and detached the shower head, bringing it down to you so you didn’t have to move. You leaned your head back for him as he carefully rinsed the soap out.

You weren’t going to ask, but thank God Spencer told you to hand him the conditioner next. This, he slathered all over the ends of your hair, making sure all of it was sufficiently covered in conditioner before loosely twisting it into a low, makeshift pony for you. 

“Mm. I was about to ask how you’re so good at haircare,” you chuckled lowly to yourself, in a half-sleepy voice with your forehead resting on your knees. Dangerously close to falling asleep. “Then I remembered what you used to look like.”

You had a lazy smile on your face just thinking about the days where Spencer’s hair used to be down to his shoulders. He looked so pretty like that (not that he didn’t look pretty now, too), you always wondered why he got rid of it. 

“Remember when I got shot in the knee?” he hummed, returning to work your shoulder. He adorned a tiny smile of his own as he started to reminisce. “You came by my house at least once a week. Brought me meals, watched movies with me. Helped distract me from the pain. Even drove me to my physical therapy appointments.” 

You mm-hmm’d that you remembered.

“You pretty much did everything shy of helping me bathe. Though, I feel like you would’ve helped with that, too, if I asked.”

You both laughed at that. You hadn’t really noticed the parallels of your situation, being injured and needing his help for once. He was happy to repay the favor. 

“I’ll, uh. Let you wash your body yourself,” he said, coming out of his daydream for a moment. He rinsed his hands off and got up, patting down his wet hands on his trousers. With one nod from you to confirm that you’d be able to do it, he quickly exited the bathroom to give you privacy. 

You emerged seventeen minutes later, clad in pajamas with towel-dried hair. Spencer was still awake as you crawled onto the bed beside him, more than ready for bed after that. He looked to the side to ask you how the rest of your shower was, and before he could get it out, you shuffled up next to him, winding one arm around his and resting your head on his chest.

“I take it you had a good shower?” he laughed. This was one of his “I told you so” moments, and for once, you didn’t mind it. 

“Mhm,” you smiled, chuckling behind it as you shut your eyes. You were falling asleep fast. “Spence, the scalp massage…” 

“Was good, right?” he boasted, inflating his own ego a bit. 

You nodded against his shoulder, not caring if you helped blow up his ego another two sizes. Burrowing deeper into the covers, nestling tighter against Spencer, you got one more quip in before falling asleep. “S’good that I think I have a crush on you now.” 

Joke or not, he pulled the blanket higher until it reached your chin, holding you with both arms and kissing the top of your head before falling asleep himself.

*

*

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