#i need to be in between her legs more than i need air

[robinsgrl]

Rafe with weird girl is a bit more nonchalant and tame compared to JJ with weird girl. he WILL match your freak and that’s a threat and yeah you might be weird but he’s much weirder he makes you shy. YOU. original rafe!

MDNI 18+

you’re talkative. You’re never not talking someone’s ear off. Most people can’t handle it. Sometimes your own friends need a moment of silence. But never JJ.

you’re laid back on your bed, legs spread open as his face hides between you. “deb deserves so much better. her boyfriend is such an asshole.” you breathe out shakily as he laps at your cunt.

he hums into you, nodding. “she does, mama. much better.” he dives right back in, your fingers threading through his hair.

“yeah, and the weird thing is she doesn’t think she does,” a small moan leaves your lips but you continue. “we tell her all the time. oh! I forgot the worst part! when they were on a break, he came to the store and-and bought condoms. at her register.”

this makes him pull his face from your heat, eyes wide as he looks down at you. “no fucking way.”

You nod, just as exasperated. “yeah, i know, it was fucking crazy” you tell him as you push his head back down

you’ve gone fishing with him and you’re so damn bored. you came to tan but the suns slowly going down and you're sure you’re as tan as you can be. he adds bait one last time and throws it far into the water. your eyes trail on his strong arms that are flexing under the soft hue of the sunset.

you dont even question your thought. you lean over and chomp down onto his bicep. he’s not even phased. “what’s my sunscreen taste like?” he asks as he glances over at you with a pretty smile. it makes your cheeks flush.

“delicious. wanna try mine?” it’s a joke. but you should know better than to joke like that with him. he doesn’t hesitate to drop his rod and rush to you.

a loud laugh leaves you as he tackles you in a hug, making you land on him as he falls to his back on the boat. he’s nipping at your neck, biting and sucking on you. “jj!” you can’t stop the happy laughs that leave you.

“you taste so good, mama!” he trails his lips down to your chest and bites the side of your boob that’s pressing out of your bikini. it doesn’t take long for him to fully take your tit out and bite your pebbled nipple.

“JJ!”

you’re in bed with jj when you realize something. he’s butt naked. “bro, where are your pants?”

“bro, i like letting my balls get air”

“bro, are you clenching your cheeks right now?” You ask with a laugh as you smack his ass. He lets out a fake moan and pushes his ass to you.

“Bro, i loved that. Do it again.” He’s laying on top of you now, feeling his everything against you. Your hands fall to his butt and you easily squish his cheek. “Bro, im getting a boner.”

“Your bro is giving you a boner? Bro, that’s fruity.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck as you keep smacking his naked butt. “Your little butt is so cute” you comment.

“My butt is NOT small”

“Yes, it’s a tiny lil bubble butt”

“There’s nothing tiny about me, mama” you laugh as he rolls his hips into you.

“JJ! Oh my god!” You laugh and try and push him off of you.

Yeah, no one can ever truly grasp JJ’s freak— he leaves you miles behind. Moral of the story…… he wins.

[maybe-im-dark]

Sleep running

The apartment was unusually quiet, save for the soft hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the floorboards. The small bedroom was dimly lit by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. Wade lay sprawled out on one side of the bed, mask off and snoring lightly. Next to him, Logan lay on his back, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

For a while, everything was calm.

Then Logan began to stir.

At first, it was subtle—a twitch of his fingers, a flex of his jaw. But soon, his legs kicked under the covers, and his breathing grew heavier.

“Mm...gotta catch it...” Logan muttered, his voice rough and low.

His claws popped out briefly with a metallic snikt before retracting again.

Wade cracked one eye open, frowning. “Logie? You good, peanut?”

Logan didn’t answer. Instead, he rolled onto his side, his legs shifting like he was running. His lips curled slightly, and a faint growl rumbled in his throat.

Wade sat up, blinking sleepily. “Oh, great. He’s dreaming again. What is it this time? Chasing rabbits? Hunting deer? Running from the existential dread of living with me?”

Logan’s movements grew more pronounced. His arms stretched out as if he were reaching for something, and his legs kicked harder. Then, before Wade could react, Logan rolled out of bed and landed on all fours with a thud.

“Logan?” Wade called, sitting up straighter.

But Logan was already moving.

Like a shadow, he crawled across the floor, his muscles rippling under his skin as he sniffed the air. His head tilted, and he let out a low, guttural growl before springing up and bolting out of the bedroom.

Wade scrambled out of bed, stumbling after him. “Oh no, you don’t! I am not letting you destroy another coffee table in your sleep!”

By the time Wade reached the living room, Logan was already pacing, his movements fluid and animalistic. His bare feet were silent against the hardwood floor and his eyes glowing in the dark, darting around as if tracking something only he could see.

“Come on, Logan, wake up,” Wade said, his tone somewhere between amused and exasperated.

He stepped closer, cautiously, knowing better than to startle Logan in this state.

Logan crouched low, his claws popping out again. “Almost got it...it’s fast...”

Wade sighed. “Honey badger, I don’t know what you’re hunting in Dreamland, but I promise it’s not here. Unless it’s the neighbor’s cat, and honestly, I don’t wanna explain that to her again.”

Logan didn’t respond. He leaped onto the couch, his claws sinking into the fabric as he balanced on all fours, his nostrils flaring. Wade winced at the sound of the couch ripping.

“Okay, that’s it,” he muttered, stepping forward. “Time to bring you back to reality, big guy.”

He reached out and grabbed Logan’s arm, shaking it gently. “Logan. Wake up, bub. You’re scaring the furniture.”

Logan froze, his muscles tensing under Wade’s grip. For a moment, it looked like he might lash out, but then his eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused.

“Wade?” Logan rasped, his voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Wade said, letting out a relieved sigh. “You were doing your whole night predator thing again. Very feral, very sexy, but also very destructive.”

Logan blinked, slowly realizing where he was.

He glanced down at the shredded couch beneath him and groaned. “Shit... did I do this?”

“Yup. But hey, it’s not the first time,” Wade said with a grin. “And you didn’t knock over the TV this time, so, progress!”

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. Damn dreams. Felt like I was chasin’ somethin’. Couldn’t stop.”

Wade smirked, tugging Logan off the couch and steering him back toward the bedroom. “Well, next time, chase it in bed, huh? Or, better yet, chase me. I’ll make it worth your while.”

Logan snorted, shaking his head as Wade guided him back under the covers. “You’re an idiot.”

“And yet, you love me,” Wade said, flopping down next to him. “Now, no more running around. I need my beauty sleep, and you need to stop making the furniture hate you.”

Logan lay back, his body finally relaxing as Wade draped an arm over his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, already feeling sleep pulling him under again.

This time, when Logan’s breathing evened out, there were no twitches, no growls, no restless movements. Just the quiet rhythm of two mutants, tangled together under the covers, as the night carried on.

[quarterlifekitty]

Promethean

fuckboy!Soap x Shy!Reader x Ghost (college!au) p.2

Uhh warning soap isn’t in this chapter and reader isn’t acting very shy rn lol

Simon managed to drag you, shocked and still on shaky legs, into his surprisingly clean car and across town to a little cafe. The guy with eye bags behind the counter starts making his order as soon as he comes in the door— must be a regular.

At the counter he points to a couple of items in the display case, before prompting you— you stutter out your go-to, and Simon whips out a beat-up debit card before you can think to pull out your wallet.

The largest size of earl grey almost looks normal in his large hand, a plate of pastries in his other mitt. You grab your own drink and follow where he tilts his head in gesture.

When you sit, he pushes the plate towards you. Like he’s dropping a fresh kill at your doorstep—a courting gift. Eat. Be provided for, sensitive doe. You pick up a danish, if only to ease the clench of his fist on the table. He pulls the black surgical mask down to sip his tea in a way that’s almost hilariously delicate given his permanent scowl.

You couldn’t have sat in silence for more than 10 minutes. But it feels like a lot longer.

“Simon. What are we doing here?” You probe quietly. Saying his name when you’ve never actually been introduced to each other feels wrong. Like you’ve stolen a piece of him that he hasn’t given freely.

“He never takes you out,” he grunts. As if that explains anything.

“It’s not… what we have isn’t like that.”

——

Simon chews on your overly diplomatic response for a minute. That’s what it must be, chewing— why else would he grind his teeth together when his tongue is still wet with his favorite soothing beverage?

You’re kind. Kinder than the mutt deserves.

“But you want it to be.” He says it with an almost biblical level of finality. Your pastry making the plate clink against the table as you drop it back down.

“What would you know about what I want?”

“You’re an easy read. S’how y’got yourself in this situation. Soap’s not exactly a rocket scientist when it comes to chattin’ up birds, you’re jus’ an open book.”

Simon shamelessly stares at your lips as they quirk in anger— so unused to vitriol. It’s gorgeous.

“So he’s using me. I know. Is that what this was about? Taking me on a pity date to let me down gently? Or did you just wanna see if you could have a go as well?”

Seeing you like this. It’s something else. He’s seen you mope around so many times, silently begging for crumbs that will never be tossed your way. It’s even harder to pull his gaze from you, now that you’re hissing. He wants to dig his teeth into your heart shoulder and rip out the bruise Johnny left you with.

Soap is his best friend.

“He’s a dickhead. You don’t need him. You’ll find something better.”

Simon has never been what he would call “something better”. Not in any sense. But this might be the first time he’s wanted to be.

“I won’t,” you say with the lower half of your face hidden by the sipping of your drink. As if it’s quenched your fire, and all that leaves you is vapor. “I’m not… the type.”

He gets it. Really, he does. He’s not the type either— or so he’s thought. You’re making him wonder if he’s imagined that about himself— the same way you’ve clearly imagined it about yourself.

“What’s the rest of your day look like?”

“…Nothing set in stone.” The not that it’s any of your fucking business goes unspoken, but is plain to see in the air between you.

“Lemme take you around. On a date. Be mine for today. If y’hate it, I’ll drop you back at yours and the next time you come round, I’ll mind my business and keep the door closed.” Well, that’s the most you’ve ever heard him say in one go. And it begs a question.

“What happens if I like it? You’ll fuck me in a different room of the same frat house?” Your unimpressed look makes him feel ravenous. She-wolf is threatening to turn her eyes from the display. Rejection. Not an option. “Or maybe you’ll ask me to go steady,” you huff under your breath like it’s a bad joke.

“If y’like it, then you’ll stay mine, and y’won’t fuckin’ want for anything. You’re supposed to be worshipped, not begging for scraps at a mutt’s door.”

He really didn’t mean to say it like that. He meant to bite his tongue. He’s trying not to think of how hot it would be if his intensity scared you into pissing yourself. He’s trying not to let himself show through the lines. It’s not working. Any of it.

The venomous bile that spills from behind his teeth reminds him that his eloquence is just one of many reasons why he’s single. Why he should be muzzled instead of kept. He doesn’t know why he’s taking it upon himself to do this. Selfishness, maybe. There’s plenty of better men he could’ve put up to the task, easy. The man who wants to feel blood on the back of his throat makes a terrible savior.

He feels like he can see your pupils dilate. You pick up your danish again and take a bite. You hold it out for him to try. It’s a test. You don’t think someone with eyes like his can handle doing cutesy, saccharine things. Like what couples do. That must be it.

He tries not to think of his teeth going past the flakey flesh of the pastry and sinking into your fingers. When his tongue meets the butter between the layers, he tries not to think of the salt sweet flavor of your sweat and tears. A seed from the blackberry jam gets thoughtlessly crushed between his molars— he hopes the bitterness will suddenly wake him up and he won’t be a beast crying for love at the heart of the world anymore.

It doesn’t.

[acesofspadess]

Christmas Dare 🎄

12 Days of Mix-mas // Day 6

a/n: halfway there!!!! you guys have truly been showing your support for this special !! love you all !!

warnings: threesome, detailed- but not detailed smut !!!, oral (m receiving), making out, curse words, anal,

summary: During a holiday trip Lando and Max compete to see who can win over the reader’s attention, leading to so much more....

The chalet buzzed with holiday cheer. Laughter, music, and the occasional clink of glasses filled the air as the group of friends gathered around the fire. Outside, snow fell in thick flakes, blanketing the mountain in pristine white. You sipped your mulled wine, savoring the warmth it brought against the chill from your short foray outdoors earlier.

Lando and Max had been at it all evening, their playful rivalry turning into a full-blown competition as soon as you arrived. Whether it was offering to fetch you another drink, competing for space beside you on the couch, or showing off ridiculous holiday-themed party tricks, neither seemed willing to back down.

“You have to admit,” Lando said, sliding into the seat beside you with a boyish grin, “my snowman was leagues better than Max’s. Mine even had a scarf.”

“It also collapsed within five minutes,” Max shot back from across the room, his Dutch accent rolling smoothly off his tongue. He stood leaning against the mantle, his arms crossed, looking unfairly handsome in a fitted sweater that hugged his frame. “Clearly a metaphor for your reliability.”

Lando clutched his chest dramatically. “Wow, that’s rich coming from someone whose snowman looked like it was run over by a snowplow.”

“Boys, boys,” you interrupted, trying to suppress your smile. “Let’s agree neither of you will have a career in snow sculpting.”

Max smirked, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent a warm flush creeping up your neck. “I have other talents I’d rather show off anyway.”

“Oh, come on,” Lando cut in, leaning closer so you could catch the faint scent of his cologne. “You’re not going to let him win that easily, are you? I’ve been at your beck and call all night.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “And here I thought you two were just being nice.”

“Nice?” Max repeated, pushing off the mantle and stepping closer. His voice dropped slightly, a playful challenge lacing his tone. “I don’t think either of us were aiming for ‘nice’, schatje.”

Lando’s grin widened, and he slid an arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your collarbone. “He’s trying too hard. I think you’d appreciate someone who doesn’t need to show off.”

“Show off?” Max countered, his eyebrow quirking. “Says the guy who’s practically glued to her side.”

The air between the three of you shifted, the teasing banter taking on a sharper, more charged edge. You knew exactly what they were doing, and you couldn’t help but enjoy it. Letting your gaze flick between them, you tilted your head slightly, feigning innocence.

“Is this what you two have been scheming all night?” you asked, your tone light but laced with just enough challenge to stoke the fire.

Max’s lips curved into a wicked smile. “Maybe. But tell me you haven’t enjoyed it.”

You leaned back into the couch, crossing one leg over the other deliberately, watching as their eyes tracked the movement. “Oh, I’ve enjoyed it,” you said, letting the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “But that doesn’t mean either of you are winning.”

Lando leaned closer, his grin taking on a cocky edge. “Not yet, maybe.”

Max stepped even closer, his hand resting on the arm of the couch, effectively boxing you in. “Maybe she doesn’t have to choose,” he said, his voice smooth and deliberate.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you quickly masked it with a teasing smile. “That’s a bold assumption.”

“Call it a calculated risk,” Max replied, his dark eyes locked on yours below him. His confidence was intoxicating, but you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand just yet.

“And what makes you think I’d go along with it?” you challenged, tilting your chin up slightly.

Lando’s fingers brushed against your collarbone again, this time with more intent. “Because you haven’t told us to stop.”

Your lips curved into a smirk, and you let the tension hang for a moment before replying. “Maybe I just like watching you two try so hard.”

Max chuckled, low and rough, as he leaned in closer. “Oh, you like to watch, do you?”

You met his gaze evenly, the spark of amusement in your eyes giving way to something deeper. “Only when it’s worth my time.”

Lando laughed, the sound warm and rich as he pressed closer on your other side. “Guess we’ll just have to prove we are, then.”

The tension between the three of you crackled like the fire behind Max, and you let out a soft hum, considering them both for a moment. “Alright,” you said, your voice dripping with playful authority. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Max wasted no time leaning down, his hand sliding to cup your cheek as he kissed you, firm and commanding. His lips moved against yours with precision, his dominance evident in every movement. Lando, not to be outdone, trailed his fingers along your arm, his touch teasing as his lips found the curve of your neck.

“You’re something else,” Lando murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

You let out a soft laugh, your fingers tangling in Max’s hair as you pulled back slightly. “You’re both going to have to work harder than that.”

Max smirked, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Oh, we intend to.”

Lando’s hands slipped to your waist, his grip firm but reverent as he pulled you closer. “You’re not making this easy for us, are you baby?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you replied, your voice laced with challenge.

Lando made the first move after that, his hand sliding up to cradle your face as his lips captured yours in a kiss that was firm, commanding, and deliberate. His fingers brushed along your jaw, the faint roughness of his touch sparking a jolt of electricity through your body. Max, not one to be left behind, sat down and pressed against your other side, his lips trailing heatedly along the curve of your neck. The sensation of his breath against your skin sent a shiver racing down your spine.

“Is this enough to impress you, now?” Lando murmured against your lips, his voice dripping with cocky assurance.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your own lips curving into a smirk. “You’re getting there,” you teased, your tone laced with challenge.

Max chuckled, his hands slipping to your waist and gripping firmly, pulling you closer. “Careful, Lan. She’s got standards.”

“Good,” Lan retorted smoothly, his dark eyes gleaming with intent. “I’d be disappointed otherwise.”

You let out a low laugh, tangling your fingers in Lando’s hair and tugging lightly, relishing the way his confident demeanor faltered for just a moment. Max, emboldened, took advantage of the shift, turning your head toward him and capturing your lips in a kiss that was every bit as heated as Lando’s. Where Lando’s kiss was playful and insistent, his teeth grazing your lower lip just enough to make you gasp, Max had been calculated.

“You like watching us fight over you, don’t you?” Max whispered against your mouth, his voice thick with amusement and desire.

You leaned back slightly, your gaze flicking between the two of them. “Oh, I more than like it,” you admitted, your tone dripping with satisfaction. “But I think it’s time you two stop competing and start working together.”

Max raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a wicked smile. “Is that what you want?”

“That,” you said, trailing a finger along Max’s collarbone, “depends on how well you behave.”

Lando’s laughter was low and husky as his hands gripped your hips tighter. “Oh, we can behave… when it counts.”

Their dynamic shifted seamlessly as they turned their focus entirely on you, their movements perfectly in sync as they catered to your every tease and challenge. Lando’s kisses became deeper, his hands exploring with a confidence that left no question about his intent. Max’s touches were no less purposeful, his lips trailing down the line of your throat as his hands pressed against the curve of your back, pulling you into him.

At one point, the tension between the three of you boiled over into something neither of them could resist. Lando, emboldened by your smirk, leaned over and kissed Max, the unexpected sight sending a thrill through you. The kiss was heated, a clash of their rivalry and mutual respect, their shared determination to give as much as they took. You watched, mesmerized, as Max’s hand tangled in Lando’s curls, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened.

When they finally broke apart, both turned their attention back to you, their gazes dark with a shared hunger. “Impressed yet?” Max asked, his voice low and velvety.

You tilted your head, feigning consideration. “Maybe,” you said with a teasing smile.

What followed was a symphony of touches, kisses, and whispered praises, their hands and lips working in tandem to ensure you were the center of their world. Max was the first to all but rip your sweater off your body, coming face to face with your bare chest. “Mijn god, schatje.” He groaned. Lando took no time in bringing his mouth down to one of your nipples, making you moan softly and run a hand through his curls.

“I think we should move this to the bed. Want to feel all of you.” You said breathlessly as Max kissed your neck, and his hand played with breast Lando wasn’t sucking bruises into it.

You were sure, despite your teasing, these men would be the death of you. At one point you were on your back, Max between your legs, thrusting into you at a relentless pace, while you moaned and sucked on Lando’s dick, who would go from pornagraphic moans to making out with  Max above you.

Another point had you on your knees, sucking Max’s dick with the help of one hand, the other being held by Lando who was fucking into you from behind, surely bruising your ass where he slapped and gripped roughly.

The last point was a lot more intimate. “The things you do to us, baby.” Lando said, kissing up your back as you all laid together, thinking you were done. You laid against Max’s body, sweat sticking you together. “Wanted this -you both- for a long time.” Max sighed while his fingers played in Max’s hair. “I don’t think we’re ever coming back from this.” You said softly. “I don’t think any of us want to.” Lando said cupping your neck and pulling you into another kiss. You moaned softly and could feel Max start to get hard again. Lando pulled away from you to kiss Max, a sight that would always melt your insides.

Max’s free hand held your waist, squeezing lightly as if telling you to straddle him again, which you happily did. He gasped into Lando’s mouth who’s eyes rolled when he saw the way you two were connected. You held your hand out to him which he gladly took and he kneed behind you, in between Max’s thighs. He kissed your neck softly, as you reached for his dick. “Baby…” he breathed in sharply, looking down to see you placing him between your ass. “Can’t make love without you.” You said softly as Max sat up to give him more room.

The moment Lando slipped in the two were setting a pace that had you seeing stars. Both of them were kissing down your body, then wherever they could reach on the others. Many counts of ‘I love you’s’ being shared between breathy moans. Your head was thrown back on Lando’s shoulders as you moaned loudly, your body squeezing around them as you came to an all time high. 

By the time the three of you finally collapsed back onto the bed, your body hummed with satisfaction, your breathing still uneven. Max’s hand rested possessively on your thigh, while Lando’s fingers drew lazy patterns on your belly.

“So,” Lando said, his voice light and teasing as he leaned his head back against the cushion, “who won?”

You laughed, your head falling back as you glanced between them. “You’re really going to ask that?”

Max’s grip on your thigh tightened slightly as he smirked. “I think we all did.”

Lando rolled his eyes, but his smile softened as he glanced at you. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, feeling thoroughly spoiled and entirely content as the snow continued to fall outside, blanketing the world in silence while the warmth of their attention lingered long after.

[veronicaphoenix]

tangled | n.s. x reader

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x fem. reader | Words: 2.8k | Reading time: 10mins aprox.

one shot ✨ summary: noah and his girl are babysitting nicholas' cat mimi for a couple of days before Christmas, but mimi proves to be more than a handful and noah is quickly reaching his limits as the cat wreaks havoc in the apartment.

tags & trigger warnings: established relationship, christmas season, domestic fluff, mention of naked noah wearing a Christmas hat, explicit sexual content including dirty talk, "good girl", oral sex (noah rec.), p in v (protected). Implied bondage and use of sex toys.

tangled 🎄✨

“Okay. That’s enough, you minx,” Noah muttered, tugging at the wrapping paper sprawled across the dining room table, exasperation all over his face. 

The table and wrapping paper were under siege by Nicholas’ cat, Mimi, who looked utterly unrepentant as she pranced across the paper, batting at it with her paws and engaging in imaginary battles with the crumpled bits. 

“You’ve already ruined one roll. Isn’t that enough?” Noah scolded, narrowing his eyes at her. 

But Mimi was undeterred. She clawed at the paper with gleeful abandon and screeched, as though trying to intimidate the defenseless ball of paper. Then, she lunged at it, claws outstretched, making the roll inch closer to the edge of the table as she wrestled with the paper ball, shredding what remained of the roll. 

“No, seriously, stop! I need to wrap my girl’s presents before she gets home!” Noah exclaimed, scooping Mimi up. Her tiny body stretched like she was made of rubber, as if she had no bones. She let out a loud meow, as though protesting her defeat and insisting she must vanquish the paper monster. 

Ignoring her protests, Noah set her on the floor, gave her a stern look, and turned back to assess the situation on the table. He studied the ruined wrapping paper with a sigh. Was there even a single salvageable inch?

As he inspected the paper, something tugged at his sweatpants. Glancing down, he barely had time to react before the cat scrambled up his leg and plopped back onto the table. 

“Oh, give me a break!”

This time, Mimi didn’t attack the paper. Instead, she fixed her big, innocent eyes on him, as though realizing she’d pushed him to his limit. But after a brief pause, she let herself fall on the table and rolled over the paper, batting a ball of crumpled paper, biting it, and then tossing it into the air. 

“Jesus Christ, this is infuriating. I’m… pissed!” He declared, throwing his arms up in frustration. “But how can someone stay mad at such a—” he hesitated, “—cute ball of fur? Argh. I give up. Do as you please. I’ll buy another roll tomorrow and lock myself in the bathroom to do the wrapping. You should be grateful I’m locking myself away instead of locking you in the laundry room, you furry menace!” 

The cat meowed at him. When her paper ball tumbled off the edge of the table, she stared at it for a moment, head tilted down, eyes on the floor, then decided it was no longer of interest. Turning her attention back to Noah, she trotted over to him, tail wagging. Standing at the perfect height with the table, she nuzzled against his hoodie, against his stomach, her warmth melting his irritation. 

“Stop being cute. I’m serious.” 

As if on cue, the apartment door opened, and a familiar voice called out, “Hi! I’m home!”

“Finally,” Noah muttered to himself, his heart skipping a beat as it always did when she came home. 

No matter how many years they’d been living together, the thrill never faded. 

He met her halfway, her coat already off and her bag left by the entrance. With a cheerful smile, she wrapped her arms around Noah’s neck and stood on her tiptoes. His hands settled on her hips as he bent down to kiss her—only for the kiss to be interrupted by a certain cat scrambling between their legs, rubbing herself against her jeans and demanding attention. 

“She’s my girl, you know?” Noah said in a mock-condescending tone. “Mine.” 

His girl chuckled, glancing between him and the cat, one hand still resting on his shoulder. 

“What happened?” she asked, amused.

“Where do I start?” He replied, scooping the cat and holding her at arm’s length. The two of them stared at her as she wiggled her front paws and let out a loud meow, clearly asking to be put down. “First, she did a literal catwalk over my keyboard while I was working. Then, when I made coffee and turned my back for two seconds, she stuck her tongue in it. After that, I tried setting up the Christmas lights over the chimney, and as soon as she saw them, she went crazy. And if that wasn’t enough, she completely shredded the wrapping paper, and now I can’t wrap the presents.”

“Sounds like you two had a lot of fun,” she said, barely holding back a laugh at his recounting. She could easily picture the cat chasing Noah around, following him from room to room. He complained, but deep down, she knew Mimi did it all because she liked him—and, honestly, who wouldn’t? Considering Noah was very… snuggly. 

She took Mimi from his hands and cuddled her against her chest. 

“Hey,” Noah protested. 

“I’m going to get changed,” she said. “I promise lots of snuggling when I come back.”

“Lots of snuggling and a blowjob?” Noah asked, his face lighting up with a grin. 

She laughed. “As long as there’s hot chocolate first,” she teased, batting her eyelashes at him, all sweet and adorable. 

“Anything,” he replied eagerly, already excited about the evening ahead. He leaned in to steal a kiss, but of course, Mimi got in the way with her whiskers as she tried to join in on the affection. 

When his girl reappeared from the bedroom—now in light gray joggers, fluffy socks, and an oversized sweatshirt—Mimi decided to busy herself elsewhere in the apartment. For once, she finally wandered away from the humans. Noah eyed her suspiciously until his girl walked up to him, an eager smile on her face as she wiggled her fingers, waiting for the hot chocolate he’d promised. 

“Extra sprinkle of cinnamon for the lady,” Noah announced, handing her the mug. 

She practically bounced on her feet with delight, wrapping her hands around the warm cup. 

Noah placed a kiss on her hair and with a hand on the small of her back, he guided them both to the couch. She was already sipping from her mug, clearly a little impatient, as per usual. 

Once they were seated, snuggled together under a cozy throw, they caught up on their day and started making plans for the weekend ahead. 

 After a couple of minutes, Mimi leapt onto the sofa and began crawling toward them. Noah cast a glare at her as she padded across his girlfriend’s lap and made her way to him. 

“I swear, if you plan on dipping your cute little muzzle into my hot choc—”

But it wasn’t that. 

Mimi rubbed herself against Noah’s lap, using her paws to tug at his hoodie until she managed to open a small space. A moment later, she slid in, disappearing entirely. Her movements stilled as she nestled snugly against his stomach, utterly shameless. Noah stared at the bump in his hoodie.  

“Aww, she loves you!” his girl said, a loving smile on her face. 

“She just loves my hoodies, like someone else I know.”

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her chin down. 

“I love all of you, not just your hoodies,” she corrected him “I love your face, your voice, your cooking skills, your tremendously delicious hot chocolate…”

“…which is smeared all over your upper lip.” 

Noah reached over and used his thumb to wipe away the chocolate. As he did, she playfully nibbled at his finger. 

“Hey!”

“And the way you taste…” she added, using the rhythm of certain popular song, accompanied by a naughty smile. 

She was so cheeky, so festive these days, that he felt he could devour her whole. He loved her like crazy. 

Christmas was just around the corner, and even though they had set up most of the decorations already the previous week, there was some tasks pending to do, such as wrapping the presents and hanging more Christmas lights because she was obsessed with them.  

Two days earlier, they had rummaged together through the boxes where they kept the decorations. Noah had told her they didn’t need more lights, but she’d insisted, holding up a set of purple and red ones. 

The more she insisted, the more Noah’s expression of disagreement intensified—until realization dawned on her. The lights she held in her hand were the ones they had bought specifically for another purpose—not for the Christmas tree. 

Her cheeks flushed as she remembered. She glanced down at the lights, then dared to look up at Noah. They were both kneeling on the living room carpet with the box between them. 

Noah raised an eyebrow, his expression both amused and suggestive. 

“Don’t think for a sec that I plan on skipping my Christmas special event this year.”

With her cheeks tinted and feeling a touch shy, she licked her lips and tried not to snort at the name Noah had given the night between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. It essentially involved locking themselves in the bedroom, getting naked and comfortable, and having fun with each other with the Christmas lights and other toys until they were both sated and exhausted. Last year, the night had gone on until the early hours of Christmas Day, and she had welcomed the first light of the day tied to the bed, with festive lights wrapped around her, Noah’s cock inside of her, and a Christmas hat on his head.  

She was ready to repeat all that again this year. 

That evening, however, she had promised him something in return for that delicious hot chocolate. So, mugs empty, Mimi busy by the Christmas tree with a felt ball, they moved their activities to the bedroom, discarding their clothes along the way as they playfully tugged at each other and exchanged nibbles on each other’s necks, shoulders, and faces. She ended up being lifted by Noah, her legs and arms around him, and carried to the bedroom where he placed her on the bed. But she quickly swapped positions and made him sit on the edge. Then pushed him down onto the mattress.

She was aware that her dominant role wouldn’t last long before Noah’s hands were on her hair, grabbing handfuls and commanding her as she licked and sucked him. 

She got on her knees between his legs, removing his underwear, releasing his erection. She licked her lips. 

Noah propped himself up on his elbows, watching as she wrapped her fingers around his base and guided the head of his cock towards her lips. Those seconds—when she deliberately dragged her tongue across her upper lip and eyed his dick as if it was her favorite candy—were his favorite.

Noah let his head fall back with a groan that filled her ears with pride. She knew she was the only one who could get that sound from him. As she started moving, the friction created a pleasurable spiral in his mind, and his moans filled the room. 

“Baby,” he moaned. 

She pulled back slightly just to look at him through long lashes and blinking sweetly. 

“Yes, Noah?”

“Fuck,” he opened his eyes. “Put that mouth back on that cock,” he commanded, his hand reaching to the back of her head to grip a handful of silky hair. “Come on, baby. I need it.”

Smiling, she took him back inside, and she tortured him with sweet and even sweeter and intense licks and sucks as he praised her whenever he could catch his breath between each suction, when her mouth hollowed and she tugged at the shaft skin. 

“Good girl,” he gasped. “Keep going. Keep… ah! Keep going. I don’t think I’m gonna last long.”

She didn’t want him to. So, she sucked harder, using the tip of her tongue to play with that particular spot where the shaft met the head. In a matter of seconds, his hot release filled her mouth, and his loud inhibited moans filled the entire apartment—maybe even the neighbors’ next door. Oops.

She leaned back on her heels, licked her lips, and wiped a trace of cum from the corner of her lips with her thumb. By the time she did so, Noah was looking down at her with a frown between his brows, his mouth slightly open and catching his breath, his tatted chest rising and falling. 

“I’ll be damned if you’re not the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten,” he muttered, his voice husky and breathless. 

She laughed coyly. 

“We met in the spring, Noah, and we started dating after the summer.”

Years ago.

“Don’t give me attitude,” he replied, standing up. 

That made her laugh; his drama amusing. But her laughter turned into a yelp when he made her stand up by lifting her under the arms and moving her to the bed, dropping her like a doll. He then created a contrast in his actions by grabbing a pillow and placing it under her head to make her comfortable. 

He unwrapped her, taking off her bra and panties and discarding them on the floor. She watched him kneel on the bed, spread her legs, and then lean over to open the top drawer of his nightstand and retrieve a condom. She watched intently as he rolled it on, then moved forward on his knees, eyeing her up and down before shaking his head.  

He grabbed her legs and lifted them, placing her ankles on his shoulders. Butterflies stirred in her stomach; the position always made her feel a mix of excitement and vulnerability, mainly a thrilling sense of being claimed by him in the most wonderful way. 

“Much better,” he said, dragging his thumb over her clit gently, almost like a whisper. 

She held her breath as he did that and for the next few seconds as he slid his cock along her folds, up and down. 

Then, he was inside her, stretching her in a delicious, full-bodied way, and as he began to move, a wicked grin spread across his face—a grin that would have mirrored hers if not for the sudden loud crash coming from the living room that caught them off guard. They both stilled and turned their heads toward the bedroom door. 

They exchanged a look. 

Then—

A crying sound. A plaintive meow. 

Noah’s chest rose as he prepared to let out a heavy sigh, which he held until he pulled out of her. 

He sighed deeply then. 

“Can you hold it for me?” he asked. Her orgasm.

She nodded. “It’s okay. We can continue later.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

She sat on the bed, wet between her legs, missing his fullness, and sent him a flying kiss. 

Noah removed the condom and put his sweats back on. She slipped into her panties and the t-shirt Noah had been wearing. As they stepped out of the bedroom and into the living room, they both stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. 

In the middle of the living room lay the Christmas tree, knocked down, and inside the tree was Mimi, tangled up in the colorful string of lights. 

“Are you kidding me?” Noah muttered in disbelief. “First, she ruined my coffee, then the wrapping paper. Now, a condom that’s gone to waste. What’s next, you menace?!”

Next to him, his girl snorted. She started moving toward the tree, toward Mimi, who was still meowing, clearly asking for help. She knelt in front of the cat and began disentangling the lights from her little furry body. 

“How does Daddy Nicky deal with you, huh?”

Behind her, Noah stopped and made a face. 

“Oh, please. Don’t.”

“What?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at him. She nearly laughed at the sight of his length still half hard inside his sweatpants. At least one of them had managed to get an orgasm… 

“Don’t call Nick ‘daddy’ ever again,” Noah groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “It sounds… disturbing coming from your lips.”

She raised an eyebrow as she untangled another loop of lights from Mimi’s fur. Then grinned, the way Noah had been grinning as he fit himself inside of her merely three minutes ago. “Weird, huh? Maybe you’re just projecting a little?” She suggested.

“Projecting what?”

“Oh, you know,” she teased, finally freeing the last strand and scooping Mimi up in her arms. “Maybe you’re secretly wishing someone would call you Daddy Noah.”

He choked on absolutely nothing, his face an impressive shade of crimson. “What is wrong with you?”

She was already laughing as she turned to face him, holding Mimi like a prize. “I think it has a nice ring,” she teased. “It has a certain… authority to it, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re trying to kill me,” he muttered, but the faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth as he reached for Mimi. 

Taglist:

@amelia-acero | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare | @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning | @somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @lacy1986 <3

Dividers by @saradika.

[starksweasley]

Gravity // Remus Lupin

Summary: In which Remus is jealous (slight angst, fluff)

Word Count: 1243

The Gryffindor common room buzzed with laughter and the mellow warmth of firewhiskey. James had one arm slung around Sirius’s shoulders and the other around yours, his messy black hair flopping into his face as he laughed uncontrollably at one of Sirius’s jokes. Across from you, Lily’s green eyes sparkled as she leaned forward, recounting a  tale from Potions class, while Peter, perched on the armrest of a chair, blushed at her playful teasing.

You caught Remus’s eyes from across the room. He was reclined in his usual spot, legs stretched out, a soft smile playing on his lips. But there was something else in his gaze—something that burned brighter than the fire crackling in the hearth. That look wasn’t for the group. It was for you, only you. For months now, those glances had spoken louder than words. They’d said everything he tried so hard to deny.

It was a dangerous game, the one you played with him. Secret meetings, whispered promises, kisses that left you breathless and aching for more—and then the inevitable, his anguished voice pulling you back to reality. “We can’t do this,” he’d say, guilt clouding his honey-colored eyes. “I can’t risk hurting you.” Yet here you were, caught in a relentless cycle, tethered to him by something neither of you could control.

Lily’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “So,” she began, her tone light and teasing, “that Slytherin boy in Potions—what’s his name again? Avery? He’s been staring at you like you’re Amortentia. Are you going to say yes if he asks you out?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Not a chance. I’d rather kiss the Giant Squid.”

James let out a loud guffaw, and Sirius raised his glass in mock salute. “Good taste, love. That Slytherin’s a jerk.”

But your laughter caught in your throat when you saw Remus. His jaw clenched, his knuckles white against the arm of the couch. He quickly averted his gaze, staring into the flames as though they might temper the storm brewing inside him. You’d seen this look before. The quiet possessiveness he tried to hide. It sent your heart racing.

Eventually, the group began to drift apart. James slung an arm around Sirius as they stumbled toward the boys’ dormitory, still laughing. Lily bade you goodnight with a knowing smile, and Peter yawned his way upstairs. Left alone, you lingered for a moment, watching the embers glow. Then, with a sigh, you headed toward your dormitory. Or at least, that was the plan.

The castle was quiet as you wandered the corridors, the cool air brushing your skin like a whisper of the night. You’d detoured for a glass of water, your footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone walls. But as you turned a corner, a hand caught your wrist and yanked you into the shadows with a force that sent your heart racing. Your back hit the wall, the cool stone biting through your jumper, and before you could react, his lips were on yours.

“Remus,” you gasped against his mouth, the word barely audible, lost in the intensity of his kiss. His hands found your waist, strong and unyielding, fingers digging into your hips as though he needed to anchor himself to you. His kiss was searing, desperate—like he was pouring every unspoken word, every buried feeling, into this moment. His teeth grazed your lower lip, a low growl escaping his throat, and your knees nearly gave way beneath you. Possessive. Wild. Devastating.

When he finally pulled back, his  eyes locked onto yours, ablaze with a fire that made your breath hitch. His chest heaved with the effort of restraint, and yet his hands stayed firm on your waist, refusing to let you go. For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke, the silence between you crackling with unspoken desire and frustration. The world outside seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you in this charged, stolen moment.

“What the hell, Remus?” you whispered, your voice trembling but your tone firm. “What’s this about?”

“Do you think I didn’t notice?” he growled, his voice low and rough. “That prat in Potions looking at you like you’re something he could just… have?” His fingers tightened on your waist, nails digging into your skin. “You’re mine.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, but you rolled your eyes, though your cheeks burned. “Oh, really?” you hissed. “You’re allowed to act like this, but then you tell me we can’t be together? Stop telling me we can’t do this and then pulling shit like this, Remus!”

He exhaled sharply, stepping back and running a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the roots as if trying to wrangle his thoughts into submission. His eyes darted away for a moment, but they quickly returned to you, filled with a vulnerability that made your chest ache. “I’m a big, stupid idiot,” he muttered, his voice breaking slightly. “I know I am. But I can’t stay away from you. And I… I can’t stop thinking about what might happen if I hurt you.” His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his fears.

Your resolve softened, the tension in your shoulders easing, but you refused to let him off the hook so easily. “You’re not going to hurt me,” you said, stepping closer, your voice steady despite the rapid thrum of your heart. Your hands brushed against his, daring to close the distance. “But you can’t keep breaking my heart like this, Remus. Either we’re together, or we’re not. No more in-between.”

His gaze locked onto yours, searching, pleading, his expression torn between hope and fear. He opened his mouth as if to speak but hesitated, his throat working against the words. Finally, he exhaled, his shoulders slumping. “I want to be with you,” he admitted, his voice so quiet it was nearly lost to the silence. “Even if it scares me. Even if it’s selfish and stupid. I want you. Only you.”

The confession sent a rush of warmth through you, your heart swelling until it felt too big for your chest. Slowly, deliberately, you reached up and cupped his face, marveling at how beautiful he looked in the dim light. His features were alight, the sharp planes of his cheekbones softened by the look in his eyes, those molten gold irises that held the weight of a thousand secrets and a million  promises. Your thumbs brushed against the rough stubble on his jaw, the texture grounding you in the reality of this moment. He leaned into your touch instinctively, his eyes fluttering shut for a fleeting moment as if savoring every ounce of your presence. You pulled him into a kiss that was softer, deeper this time, a perfect blend of passion and quiet devotion that made your knees weak. His arms came around you, enveloping you completely, holding you as though the world might shatter and steal you away if he let go for even a second.

When you broke apart, you rested your forehead against his, your breaths mingling haphazardly. “Good,” you finally murmured. “Because I’m not letting you go, Remus Lupin.”

A faint smile curved his lips, and for the first time that night, his eyes shone with certainty. “I think I could get used to that,” he said, his voice warm and steady. And in that moment, it felt like you’d finally broken the cycle.

[littlest-w01f]

Midnight

Feyre x BatBoys

FEYRE MASTERLIST

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand wants to give the best gift to Feyre. He's more than happy to invite Cassian and Azriel to help make sure everything went perfectly.

Cw: Feysand domming Cazriel. That's it. That's the warning list. Also, bondage, blindfolds, darkness tendril collars and leashes, Evil Rhys? Just a *little* mean. Body worship, mirror kink, shadow play, size difference, FxMxMxM, Smut 18+ MDNI

A/N: IT'S MY MOMMY'S BIRTHDAY! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY FEYRE, YOU DESERVE THE BEST.

The moonlight filtered through the windows as Rhysand approached Feyre from behind, wrapping his arms around his mate's waist, he took in the sight of her, flushed against his chest, melting into him, wearing one of her favourite dresses, it was short, just reaching her knees and forming a deep V neckline that stopped right below her breasts, giving a tantalizing view of her cleavage.

"You look lovely tonight, Feyre darling." He leaned in to whisper, his nose tracing the curve of her neck as she smiled in his hold. As Rhysand's hands roamed over Feyre's curves, his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her dress, caressing the smooth skin of her thighs, gripping at her hips.

"Rhys," Feyre gasped, breathless with need, she reached back to grip his sides tightly, pulling him harder against her.

Rhysand's hands continued their sensual exploration, slipping higher up Feyre's thighs until they reached the juncture between her legs. His fingers grazed the damp fabric of her panties, feeling the heat emanating from her core.

"I can smell how much you desire me," Rhys purred, nipping at Feyre's earlobe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down her neck. "Your arousal is intoxicating."

"Feyre, my darling, I have a special surprise for your birthday," Rhysand pulled away slightly from Feyre, making her turn on her heel to face him, "I want you to wear something for me before that."

Rhysand held out the delicate silk blindfold, letting it dangle enticingly before Feyre's face. "Put this on, my sweet. Let me show you how much I adore you."

Feyre was taken by surprise, but it was pleasant, "I think I know what you've planned..." As she secured the blindfold snugly around her eyes. The lack of visual stimulation only heightened her senses, and she could feel Rhysand' hot breath fanning across her cheek. "Now what?" She smiled, leaning into him.

Rhysand chuckled low in his throat, pleased by Feyre's eagerness. "Patience, love," he cooed, running his fingers through her hair, tugging gently to tilt her head back. His lips found hers in a searing kiss, tongue delving past her parted lips to stroke along hers.

As he kissed her deeply, Rhysand's hands slid down Feyre's body, gripping her hips possessively. With a grin, he winnowed her to the House of Winds, to his room there, the cool night air enveloping them. Rhysand lifted Feyre effortlessly, cradling her in his strong arms as he carried her inside.

Once within the room, Rhysand pressed Feyre against the closest wall, his hands roaming her curves as he backed her into it. Feyre's back arched involuntarily when Rhys' mouth found her exposed throat, sucking and nipping at the tender flesh.

With deft movements, Rhysand pulled at Feyre's dress, letting the garment pool around her waist. He cupped her breasts, thumbs circling the hardened nipples as he lavished attention on her cleavage. Feyre moaned, head thrashing from side to side as the blindfold intensified every sensation.

"Oh, Rhys," Feyre whimpered, her body instinctively to meet his touch. "That feels so good."

Rhysand's hands slid lower, pushing the dress down further until it bunched around Feyre's hips. He hooked his fingers into the dress and slowly drew them down, exposing her glistening folds to the cool air. "Oh? Were you not wearing anything underneath, Feyre darling?"

"No, I didn't... I wanted to be bare for you," Feyre admitted with a sly grin, her legs spreading in a silent invite.

Rhysand's gaze darkened with lust as he drank in the sight of Feyre's nakedness. He knelt between her spread thighs, his hands gliding up her inner legs to grip her ass, squeezing the plump skin.

Leaning forward, Rhysand licked a slow stripe up Feyre's slit, savouring her. Her taste exploded on his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his cock. He circled her clit with the tip of his tongue before delving deeper, fucking her with long, languid strokes. He gripped her hips and pulled her off the wall and towards the bed.

Feyre struggled to stay on her feet with Rhysand's head buried in her cunt with the blindfold on her causing her to lose balance and land on the bed face first. Rhysand's hands immediately wrapped around her hips, holding her steady as he feasted on her cunt.

"Fuuuck, you taste divine," Rhysand mumbled against Feyre's soaked folds, his tongue plunging deeper. He lapped at her juices, savoring her essence as he brought her closer to the edge.

Feyre's face pressed into the mattress as she cried out for him, "Oh Cauldron, Rhys! Right there!" She buckled against his talented tongue

Rhysand increased his pace, devouring Feyre's climax with enthusiasm. He sucked hard on her clit, drawing out her pleasure as waves of ecstasy crashed through her. Feyre's legs trembled, threatening to give way, but he held her firm, prolonging her bliss.

Rhysand lapped up every drop of Feyre's release, flipping her on her back just to send an image of her all destroyed down their bond, making her shudder, and watching the reaction from the mirrors in the room, showing him every angle, his tongue swirling around her sensitive clit until she finally stilled, panting heavily. He released her hip, standing tall and towering over her prone form. "Now, for your gift, Feyre darling... I said something about how I'm always eager to see what sparks your interests."

Feyre's body froze, at his words, her face started burning with a blush, "Umm... Yeah, I do..." She bit her lip softly, the memory of Rhysand sweating with his brothers after their annual snowball fight. How he'd wanted her to join

Cassian sauntered in, a wicked grin stretching his lips as his eyes raked over Feyre's naked form sprawled on the bed. Azriel followed more quietly, his gaze locked intently on Rhysand, a flicker of desire sparking in his hazel depths.

"What's all the commotion about?" Cassian asked, his tone dripping with false innocence even as he stalked closer to the bed. "We heard Feyre's birthday cries of pleasure echoing through the halls."

Both warriors' gazes remained fixed on Feyre, their expressions a mix of hunger and admiration. Azriel's shadows crawled over Feyre's legs, coiling in their master's desire.

Feyre giggled breathlessly at their voice, having consented to this down the bond, at how casually Cassian and Azriel had walked in after she did.

"Ah, perfect timing," Rhysand purred, gesturing to Feyre's still-blindfolded state. "Cassian, Azriel, would you care to join me in giving our beloved High Lady a birthday she won't soon forget?"

"Happy birthday, my High Lady," Cassian whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear as he pressed a chaste kiss to her temple. His other hand trailed up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

"Thank you, Cass." Feyre hummed, raising her hand towards him, smiling when he took her hand and nuzzled into it.

Azriel stepped closer, his presence both calming and electrifying. His fingers brushed lightly over Feyre's collarbone before drifting down to cup one breast, thumb teasing her nipple. "Hmm... My Lady..."

"So responsive," Azriel murmured, leaning in to capture Feyre's lips in a tender kiss. His free hand wandered down her stomach, fingertips grazing her sensitive skin as he explored her curves.

Meanwhile, Cassian shifted beside Feyre, his muscular frame pressing against her side. He grasped her other breast, kneading the supple flesh while his lips found the hollow of her throat. Feyre shivered under their dual attentions, her hands gripping their chests and biceps, her senses overwhelmed by the heat of their bodies and the intensity of their gazes.

Rhysand watched the scene unfold with a satisfied smirk, falling back on a chair, eyeing the full-length mirror in his room, watching his closest friends worship their High Lady, his beautiful mate, his own arousal straining against his trousers. He stroked himself lazily, enjoying the show. "It seems we have quite the eager participants..."

Take your blindfold off, Rhysand spoke in Feyre's mind, watching her mist the silk into nothing. Their eyes met, Feyre on her back, Cassian and Azriel pressing into her, exploring her body while Rhysand stroked his cock at the sight, a thigh thrown over one handrest, groaning softly.

Feyre's deep blue-grey eyes sparkled with desire, drinking in the sight of her worshippers. She smiled up at Rhys, a sultry promise in her gaze, before turning her attention to Cassian.

The Illyrian warrior's hands roamed her torso, fingers pinching and rolling her nipples as he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Feyre moaned into his mouth, arching into his touch. Meanwhile, Azriel's lips trailed down her toned stomach, teeth scraping gently along before he continued his path southward.

"Mmmm, sweet High Lady," Azriel purred the title, his hot breath fanning over her cunt as he settled between her thighs. His scarred hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as his tongue delved into her slick folds, lapping at her juices with relish.

Feyre's back bowed off the bed, a sharp cry escaping her lips as Azriel's talented mouth worked wonders on her sensitive flesh. "A-Azriel!" she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair, trying to urge him deeper. "Az-"

Cassian broke the kiss to watch, his eyes darkening with lust as he witnessed Azriel's ministrations. He leaned down, capturing Feyre's mouth again in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as his hands roamed her body, caressing and claiming every inch of her.

"Alright that's enough of this." Rhysand's voice rang through the room, and tendrils of darkness shot through from the corners of the chambers, they grabbed Cassian and Azriel, wrapping around their necks like they were dogs on leashes, pulling them off the bed and on their knees to the floor, in front of Rhysand, the warriors were taken by surprise but didn't fight as the darkness ripped their leathers off, leaving them naked and bound.

With a smug grin, Rhysand eyed his bound and helpless warriors, their erect cocks bobbing with each quickened breath. "Look at you two, so obedient and eager to please," he crooned, trailing a finger down Cassian's wing.

Cassian's hazel eyes flashed with a mix of arousal and submission, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Azriel, meanwhile, kept his gaze lowered, a flush creeping up his neck at being manhandled by Rhysand's shadowy powers, his own melting into the room from their High Lord's order.

"Now then, let's make sure these males remember who truly rules here," Rhysand purred, something fully High Lord, his own cock throbbing in anticipation and the sight of Feyre, "My love, shall we teach our loyal subjects the true meaning of devotion? It is your birthday afterall."

Feyre smirked, sitting up, she turned to Rhysand, a seductive look playing on her lips. "Why don't we start with Azriel? Show him how much we appreciate his loyalty." Her gaze drifted to the bound Illyrian's exposed cock, already leaking precum, he was huge, making Feyre nearly drool, the muscles, every inch of his body.

At Feyre's command, Rhysand leaned forward, his dark eyes blazing with possessive desire as his power dragged Azriel forward, nearly throwing him at Feyre's feet, making him groan. The Shadowsinger's breath hitched, his chest heaving with restrained need as he rested his head on her knee, looking up at her, hazel eyes black with lust.

"Oh, my sweet Azriel," Feyre cooed, running her fingers through his dark hair, tugging his head back to expose his vulnerable throat. "You've been such an exemplary spymaster... I think you deserve a special reward."

She leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she whispered, "Open wide, love." Azriel obeyed without hesitation, parting his lips as Feyre pulled him to her, locking her thighs around his head, laughing as she squeezed his head almost like a dig at him.

Azriel moaned around Feyre's cunt, his tongue eagerly probing her entrance as she ground herself against his face. His hands, still bound behind his back, clenched into fists, desperate for purchase but unable to do anything but submit to his High Lady's whims.

Rhysand watched the display with rapt attention, his own cock twitching in anticipation, when Azriel licked wrong, he pulled at the leash, silently telling him to fix himself. He mentally reached, a dark tendril wrapping itself around Azriel's thick cock, giving it a slow stroke. "Such a good boy, taking everything his High Lady gives him," He praised, his voice low and husky.

Meanwhile, Cassian watched the display with rapt attention, chest heaving as he too sat bound by Rhysand's darkness. His eyes gleamed with unbridled lust as he watched Azriel service Feyre so thoroughly. His own cock throbbed in time with the strokes Rhys' shadow delivered to Azriel's, pre-cum beading at the tip, Azriel's wings fidgeting behind him.

"Yes, just like that," Feyre purred, her nails digging into Azriel's scalp as she rode his face with increasing fervor. "Show me how much you adore me, Az. Worship me with that wicked tongue of yours."

Azriel responded with renewed enthusiasm, his tongue delving deeper, fucking Feyre with abandon as her juices coated his chin. The pressure of her heel on his wings only heightened his pleasure, and he couldn't hold back a muffled moan around her cunt.

Rhysand chuckled darkly, his grip on Cassian's bound form tightening as he felt the warrior's pulse race. "Looks like someone else is getting impatient," he teased, giving Cassian's cock a few pumps by his darkness before releasing it. "But patience is a virtue, especially when pleasing your High Lady."

He turned his attention back to Feyre and Azriel, ignoring the whine from Cassian, admiring the way the spymaster's face contorted in pleasure as he devoured her. "You're doing wonderfully, Azriel. But I think Feyre needs more than just your tongue right now."

Azriel gasped as if he could breath again, his face flushed red and lips swollen as Feyre let them go, but a triumphant glint shone in his eyes. He looked up at Feyre with a mixture of pride and adoration. The second he felt Rhysand's darkness drop him, he pounced on her.

Azriel's large hands gripped Feyre's waist, lifting her effortlessly as he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss. His tongue plunged past her lips, tangling with hers in a fierce duel of passion. Feyre moaned into the kiss, her legs wrapping around Azriel's waist as she ground her soaked cunt against the head of his cock.

Breaking the kiss, Azriel's breath came in ragged pants as he gazed at Feyre with burning intensity. "I've waited so long to have you like this, all mine," he growled, his voice rough with desire. Without waiting for a response, he positioned himself at her entrance and thrust deep inside her with one powerful stroke, filling her completely. "My High Lady."

Azriel set a relentless pace, his thick cock pounding into Feyre's dripping heat with each powerful thrust. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound mingling with Feyre's wanton cries and Azriel's guttural grunts of pleasure.

Rhysand watched the spectacle with a satisfied smile, his own cock straining against his breeches. He knew exactly what his mate needed to push her over the edge. Reaching out with his powers, he wrapped a dark tendril around Feyre's clit, giving it a deliberate squeeze. "Come now, Azriel, bark for us, all pretty."

Azriel looked up from Feyre's neck at the tug on the makeshift collar, his eyes flashing with dark amusement. "Woof woof!" the sound was mocking Rhysand, but the High Lord still reacted with an amused smile, Azriel sunk his teeth into Feyre's shoulder as he hammered into her even harder, the force of his thrusts rocking her entire body, rough growls and

"Come for us, my love," Rhysand commanded, his voice echoing in Feyre's mind. "Let Azriel feel you clench around him as you surrender to ecstasy."

Feyre screamed, her back arching off the bed as Rhysand's dark magic sent her hurtling towards climax. Azriel's cock drove into her with increased ferocity, matching the rhythm of her racing heart. The combined sensations pushed Feyre over the brink, her cunt spasming wildly around Azriel.

"Azriel! Oh gods, yes!" Feyre wailed, her nails scoring down Azriel's back as she came undone. Her inner walls rippled and convulsed, milking Azriel's cock for all it was worth.

"Fuck, Feyre!" Azriel groaned, face buried in her breasts, trying to fight off his own climax. As Feyre's contractions milked his cock, Azriel's control snapped. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside Feyre's quivering depths. A roar tore from his throat as he spilt his release deep within her, painting her insides with his hot cum. "Shit... Fuck." He gasped, staying inside her as he struggled to catch his breath, his hips twitching with aftershocks. Feyre cradled Azriel's head to her breast, stroking his sweat-dampened hair as he softened inside her.

Rhysand watched the pair with a smug expression, he knew it wouldn't be long before he joined the fray. With a thought, Rhysand summoned a strand of his darkness, wrapping it around Cassian's neglected cock. He gave it a gentle tug, earning a choked gasp from the bound Illyrian.

Rhysand dragged Azriel away from Feyre, forcing the spent spymaster onto his knees beside Cassian. "Well, is it the general's turn now, Feyre darling?"

Rhysand smirked at Feyre's eager nod, then leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Good girl. Now, let's see if we can't get these two caught up." He released Cassian's bound wrists, allowing the warrior to reach for Feyre.

Cassian's fingers found their mark, sinking into Feyre's hips as he flipped her on all fours, using her hair to pull her head up so she could look at Rhysand. As soon as Feyre's body went taut, Cassian surged upward, impaling her on his rigid cock in one smooth motion.

It was as if he was trying to take back control from when Rhysand had him bound, which made Rhysand squint his eyes at him with a hint of amusement. "Oh, Cassian, always so eager to dominate," Rhys murmured, reaching out to caress Feyre's cheek. "But you know I prefer to watch you unravel under our touch."

With a flick of his wrist, Rhysand sent another tendril of darkness curling around Cassian's throat, giving him a teasing squeeze. Cassian gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain his rhythm despite the added stimulation. "Don't stop, general," Rhys coaxed, his voice a seductive purr. "Give Feyre what she deserves."

Feyre met every savage thrust with equal ferocity, her inner muscles clenched greedily around Cassian's cock, drawing him deeper with each pump of his hips. Cassian's grip on Feyre's hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pounded into her mercilessly.

The bed frame creaked, threatening to give way under the force of their movements. Rhysand's dark energy continued to play with Cassian, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through the warrior's body with each pass. It was clear Rhysand intended to keep Cassian on the razor's edge until he couldn't take anymore.

Sweat dripped down Cassian's face, his vision blurring at the edges as Rhysand's dark magic pushed him closer to the brink. The sensation of Feyre's tight cunt gripping him like a vice was almost unbearable, her moans and cries of pleasure music to his ears.

"Cassian…" Feyre whimpered, her voice high and breathy, he was so much bigger in size, the feeling of him manhandling her making her burn. "So good… don't stop…"

Her words were enough to send Cassian careening over the edge. With a hoarse bellow, he slammed into Feyre one last time, his cock pulsing as he flooded her womb with his seed. The intensity of his orgasm seemed to draw out Rhysand's magic, the dark tendrils squeezing loosened around Cassian's throat as he shook and twitched above Feyre, trapping her under his size, covering her fully with how much bigger he was than her.

His chest heaved against her back as he fought to regain his breath. His softening cock remained lodged inside her, still twitching with aftershocks. Feyre lay limp and sated, her body slick with sweat, her skin glowing with a post-orgasmic sheen. Azriel climbed in bed with them, the three of them pressed together. The spymaster kissed Feyre's wrists, going up and down her hands, holding her hands in his scarred ones, surrounding his High Lady with his wings.

Seeing Feyre so thoroughly loved and pleased was Rhysand's undoing. With a wave of his hand, Rhysand dispelled the lingering strands of darkness, freeing Cassian and Azriel from their sensual torment.

"Feyre looks utterly ravished." He leaned down to press a tender kiss to her forehead, his fingers trailing through her disheveled hair. "And you three are quite the sight - sweaty, rumpled, and thoroughly fucked within an inch of your lives."

Rhysand's own arousal was straining against the confines of his breeches, aching for relief. But first, he wanted to indulge in a bit of playful retribution. "Think you can take one more?"

Without waiting for a response, Rhysand captured Feyre's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to claim her mouth. At the same time, he ground his hips up, rubbing his straining cock against Feyre's folds. The friction was maddening, stoking the flames of desire higher. Rhysand broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The four of them tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, Rhysand's body pinning Feyre beneath him. His hips continued to rock against hers, the head of his cock slipping through her soaked slit, teasing her entrance without fully penetrating.

"Every inch of this delicious body belongs to me." He nipped at her jaw, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin before soothing the sting with his tongue.

With a swift roll of his hips, Rhysand sheathed himself inside Feyre, a low growl rumbling in his chest at the exquisite feel of her enveloping warmth. He began to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that allowed them both to savour the moment.

Cassian and Azriel moved in tandem, their bodies mirroring Rhysand's as they positioned themselves on either side of the couple. Cassian's hands roamed over Feyre's curves, while Azriel's lips trailed kisses along her neck and shoulder.

Cassian's calloused palms skimmed over Feyre's breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples, making them pebble beneath his touch. Azriel's mouth left a trail of heat, his tongue darting out to taste the salt of her skin.

Rhysand's thrusts grew more insistent, his cock driving deep into Feyre's welcoming heat. He set a relentless rhythm, his hips snapping forward with each stroke. The lewd sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, punctuated by Feyre's wanton moans and gasps.

"Look at you, my darling," Rhysand panted, his gaze locking with Feyre's as he pistoned in and out of her. "A beautiful mess, lost in pleasure."

Feyre's eyes fluttered closed, her lashes fanning across her cheeks as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. Her nails dug into Rhysand's shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin.

Cassian and Azriel's attentions only heightened her pleasure, their touches igniting sparks that raced through her veins. Feyre felt consumed, adrift in a sea of lust and devotion. Rhysand's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers biting into her flesh as he drove into her harder, faster. The bed creaked beneath them, the frame straining to contain their frenzy.

With a final, brutal thrust, Rhysand buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing as he spilt his release deep inside Feyre. His roar of completion echoed off the walls, mingling with Feyre's scream of ecstasy as she reached her own release. As the aftershocks wracked their bodies, Cassian and Azriel continued their ministrations, coaxing out every last tremor of pleasure from Feyre. The four of them lay entwined, panting and spent, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Cassian and Azriel's limbs tangle with Feyre's.

"Happy Birthday, My Feyre darling." Rhysand spoke softly, stroking her cheek as he cleaned them all with a wave of his hand, "I love you with everything I am." Leaning down he pressed a gentle kiss to her nose. Feyre's nose crinkled playfully at his words, "Thank you. I love you too." She nuzzled into his chest as he pushed Cassian and Azriel away to hold his mate, "And I loved this."

{General Taglist- @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-angst @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings @romanticatheartt @daughterofthemoons-stuff}

{Rhysand Taglist- @yeonalie}

{Cassian Taglist- @yeonalie @nestastits}

{Azriel Taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch @fieldofdaisiies}

[sillymommy6969]

—𝕱RIENDLY FIRE

Lara Raj x fem!reader

summary: when lara and fellow katseye member, y/n made an arrangement months ago, they didn’t factor in the amount of time they spent together as bandmates. now, breaching the no strings attached aspect of their relationship seems to be troubling more than the two of them

warnings: harsh language, suggestive/sexual themes, angst, mean!lara, jealous/possessive!lara, manipulation

Lara Raj could arguably be the single reason Y/N worked so hard to debut in Katseye. Sure, it had been her absolute dream growing up to be an artist, especially alongside bandmates as wonderful as the girls, but Lara Raj was just… different.

When Katseye first debuted, Lara and Y/N found themselves spending more time with each other… alone. They seemed to be paired together for a lot of promotions, performances and award shows. So one day, when the two of them were alone in the dressing room, something between them shifted.

But it would get complicated, especially with the dating ban in place for another eleven months.

So in between breathy kisses and stringed moans, with Lara standing between Y/N’s legs and her hands anchoring the younger member’s hips to the vanity table, the Indian singer proposed a simple, yet eventually lethal, arrangement; with no strings attached, they would be teammates with benefits.

At first, it was easy. Sneaking around while the girls were asleep or occupied with some crazy thing on their schedule.

But then, when promotions became more frequent and practices began flooding in before tons of award shows, it was becoming harder and harder to find just a sliver of time to sneak off together. Around the two month mark of their little agreement, Sophia had begun noticing something weird in the air surrounding two particular bandmates.

When the girls had their weekly movie nights, Y/N would offer to grab some snacks and drinks as the others chose a movie to watch. Lara would then make some lazy excuse to leave the group as well, and neither of them would return until the movie had started. Luckily, the girls were always too busy bickering and fighting over what movie to watch to notice. But amidst her attempts in mediating the childish drama, Katseye’s leader was picking up more than she initially intended to.

Just last month before an iheartradio conference, Y/N had to go to the bathroom to ease her nerves.

She notified Sophia, who offered to come with to help calm the frantic drumming of her heart, but the younger member declined politely. But then, Lara would tell Manon she’s going to check on little Y/N to make sure she was okay. And the eldest Katz didn’t pay her much mind.

Just before they were seated for the podcast, Lara and Y/N returned. The older’s hair was no longer neat and proper, but instead, messy and loose.

Y/N’s lips were swollen, her cheeks slightly flushed and her fingers tugging up her collar to hide the darkening beside peaking from her chest.

Sophia was not one to meddle in another’s affair, and certainly not romantic or sexual ones of or between her bandmates. But when the two would get distracted by each other or sneak off just a little too long, she needed to let them know before either of them got in trouble. So, she decided to casually bring it up with Lara one time during breakfast.

“Look, I don’t care if you guys are dating or whatever, but you need to be more careful before you get caught.”

Lara raised an eyebrow, scoffing in amusement at the leader’s statement. “What? What’re you talking about?”

“You and Y/N. I know there’s something going on between the two of you and you’re getting a little sloppy with the hiding.”

Silence rung for a moment, before Lara laughed.

“Oh no, you’ve got us all wrong.” She continued laughing, much to a confused Sophia’s dismay. “Y/N and I aren’t dating or anything. We’re just… y’know, hooking up. There’s no feelings or whatever, it’s just sex. Don’t worry that big head of yours, Laforteza.”

Sophia pressed her lips together in a thin line, watching the Indian make herself a cup of coffee.

“That’s really messy, Lara. Y’know Y/N’s much more fragile than you, she can’t hide her secrets as well as you do,” Sophia scolded, “Just the other day, she strolled into dinner with vickie’s down her cleavage, you’re lucky I covered her back up when I gave her a hug before the other girls noticed.”

“Sophia, relax.” Lara grunted, “It’s fine.”

“We don’t need a scandal already, we’re still in promotions for Debut.” The older crossed her arms, “I’m laying down some ground rules. No fucking in between schedules or in the house when we’re all here. I don’t want the others getting dragged in the middle of this if things get messy.”

Lara rolled her eyes, “Whatever. Is that it, you dictator?”

“Yes. I’m protecting you and Y/N, okay? Be careful.”

That was exactly four months ago. Katseye’s one year debut was just around the corner, but the girls were getting a little disorganized. The group’s dynamic had suffered a seething hit around the six month mark.

When Y/N sat atop the HYBE bathroom counter, catching her heavy breath, she watched Lara shrug her pants back on lousily and buckle her belt.

Y/N loved those jeans on Lara, it accentuated her torso, especially paired with the tight black corset top she was wearing. She loved the way her rings were cool against her hot skin when they were pressed flush against each other. Her lipgloss was smeared and her arms flexed as she brushed herself off in the mirror.

“Lara, baby… is everything okay?”

Lara wiped the corner of her mouth with her finger, pursing her lips towards her reflection. “Don’t call me that. You should get dressed, we need to be at rehearsal in three.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, fixing the fallen strap of her top.

She didn’t say anything, grabbing her pants off the counter. She hopped off, slipping them off quickly as she eyed Lara fixing her makeup here and there.

Lara had never been the easiest person to handle. Their arrangement had started out simple enough, but as time went on, things began to shift. Lara’s attitude had begun to change, too. Her playful teasing around their friends trying get her hot and flustered around people turned into sharp, almost cruel remarks, her flirtations increasingly possessive, and her behavior unpredictable.

Y/N had tried to ignore it. After all, Lara wasn’t the easiest person to confront, and Y/N didn’t want to ruin what they had going. But this time was different. The line had been crossed, and the younger member couldn’t pretend anymore that everything was okay. She needed to put her foot down, but she didn’t know how.

When she finally turned away from the mirror to shove her lipgloss back into her pocket, she felt Y/N gently grab her arm.

“Wait, can we just… stay here a little longer? Please?”

Lara glared down at her, but she wasn’t really in a mood to argue so she reluctantly agreed. As Y/N fixed her own look in the mirror, Lara leant against the counter with her arms crossed. She eyed Y/N’s neck, a litter of red bruises scattered down from behind her ears to her chest. Thankfully, as sheer as the top Y/N was wearing was, her hair covered most of the hickeys. And as much as that was breaking her own rule, Lara couldn’t deny the fact she loved seeing Y/N all marked up.

Y/N turned towards her, lips curled into the adorable smile everybody knew and loved.

“Ready for the new choreo? Megan’s been really excited for it, she won’t stop pestering me about it.” Y/N chuckled, running her slender, ringed fingers through her hair.

Eugh, Megan. She was always so happy and nice to Y/N with a stupid smile on her face. It was real fucking annoying.

“Yeah, it’s the only thing going for her in her life.”

Y/N bit her lip at the mean remark. She never understood Lara’s one-sided beef with Megan. They used to be roommates, but a couple months in, Lara was growing easily irritated by Megan’s antics. Eventually, they switched out roommates, so Lara was bunking with Manon and Daniela, with Y/N rooming with Megan.

Since the room switch, Megan and Y/N grew really close.

They were inseparable, best friends, and recently, Lara noticed Y/N was more confident in turning her down when she wanted to go on a late night drive up to Lover’s Point.

“I’m having dinner at my parents tonight. Be ready by seven and I’ll pick you up so we can stay there for the night.” Lara said, “Bring a jacket, we can go out for dessert.”

Y/N gulped thickly, watching as Lara got up to leave.

“I—I’m actually going to a movie with Megan tonight. There’s this new one coming out she’s been meaning to see and we wanted to go tonight ‘cuz it’s our off day.” She stated timidly, hearing everything fall silent before Lara stepped back towards her. The Indian had changed into a more fierce expression. She neared a fearful Y/N with each step, until the younger’s back met the bathroom wall.

“You’re blowing me off for Megan again?” she barked.

Y/N turned away, feeling her heart racing at the feeling of Lara’s breath fanning her cheek. One of Lara’s arms raised, holding her weight up against the wall beside Y/N’s head.

“She’s been really looking forward to this, I—!”

“No, you’re gonna tell Megan you’re gonna have to reschedule. I don’t give a fuck if it’s the most amazing movie ever made, you’re coming home with me tonight, you got that?” Lara said through gritted teeth. “You want me to go talk to her myself? Hm? You want me to go fuck her shit up so she’ll stop making you go out with her when you wanna be with me?”

Y/N shook her head, feeling Lara’s fingers grip her hips.

Her fingers were grabbing so hard at the exposed flesh of her hips, Y/N swore finger dents were etched into her flesh.

“Good girl,” Lara smirked, grabbing Y/N’s chin between her fingers. “Now, we’re gonna go to practice and you’re gonna talk to Megan Skiendel about tonight, understood?”

Lara leant in to kiss Y/N, but the girl shrugged her off, gently pushing her away.

“Lara,” Y/N said, her voice barely coming out as a whimper. She was already rehearsing the words in her head, but they felt foreign. “We should talk.”

Lara furrowed her eyebrows. “About what?”

Y/N exhaled, cheeks flushed. “About this… about us.”

Lara’s smirk faltered slightly, her posture shifting. “Us? What about us? Are you fucking someone else?”

Y/N’s heart sank at the possessive tone, but she refused to back down. “That’s the thing, Lara. I’m giving you so much of myself and my time, but you make me work around your schedule and you get mad at me when I try and spend my time with my friends. You don’t want to be exclusive, but you also get mad at me when I talk to other people. I don’t want to be with you. Not like that. I don’t want this anymore.”

Lara’s face twisted into a mixture of confusion and anger. “Excuse me? You were just screaming my name in our work bathroom five minutes ago.”

“I—I’ve been thinking for a while,” Y/N replied softly, trying to maintain her composure. “And this… it’s not what I want.”

Lara’s eyes narrowed. “So, what, you’re just gonna throw everything away? Just like that? We’ve been through a lot, Y/N. You can’t just walk away from this.”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling the weight of the words she was about to say. “You’ve been different lately. The way you talk to me, the way you act around me… it’s not the same. You don’t respect me, and I don’t think this is healthy for either of us.”

Lara scoffed, her eyes flashing with irritant. “Respect? Are you kidding me? I’ve been nothing but good to you. I’ve always been here when you needed me, and now you’re just going to throw me away like I’m nothing?”

“I’m not throwing you away,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t want to be treated like this anymore. You’re hurting me, Lara.”

For a moment, Lara was silent, her expression unreadable. Then she let out a bitter laugh. “Whatever.”

Y/N felt her eyes well with tears, as her fingers fidgeted with the waistband of her baggy sweats. “I’m not scared of you, Lara. I just want peace, and I want respect. If you can’t give me that, then it’s better if we stop.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and Lara’s anger simmered beneath the surface. Y/N could tell that the fight wasn’t over, but she also knew that what she was doing was right. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be bullied anymore.

Lara turned on her heel, her expression cold. “Fine. Have it your way. But don’t come crawling back to me when you realize you’re nothing without me.”

Y/N watched as Lara walked out of the room, the slam of the door echoing in her ears. For a moment, she stood there, unsure of what to feel. Relief, sadness, guilt — a mix of emotions that tangled within her. But deep down, Y/N knew that she had made the right choice.

A little later, during a break in the middle of their practice session, Y/N found herself in the dance studio with her bandmates. The tension from her earlier conversation with Lara still lingered, but the rhythmic beat of the music helped her focus. She would occasionally look over at Lara, who was snapping at anybody who weren’t at their peak, perfect state. Everybody seemed to be walking on eggshells around her, and even their instructor had decided to steer clear of any trouble with the woman. It was time for rehearsal, and she needed to get her mind off things. So, she took a bathroom break.

Only then did the girls truly ease into their break.

Megan was already stretching near the front of the room. Y/N smiled softly as she joined her. Megan was different from Lara. She was patient, kind, and always had Y/N’s back when things got rough. She was also Y/N’s best friend, and the two of them were practically attached to the hip.

“Hey, I haven’t had a chance to talk to you yet.”

Y/N sighed at her roommate’s words, “Sorry, I’ve been busy doing some personal stuff. I actually had a question about the flip routine, I can’t really get down.”

The redhead smiled, “Oh, yeah, girl. I gotcha.”

Megan was close to her, their movements so in sync as they tried out the new routine they were taught. Every step felt effortless, and their bodies became even closer when Megan began helping Y/N with a particular step, their faces just inches apart as they spun in perfect unison.

“You gotta have your leg pulled back like this,” Megan taught, a hand grabbing Y/N’s thigh and pulling her leg back. She was standing behind the older, a hand on her waist and the other along her inner thigh. “When you drop down, you need to land right here, not on your knee or you’ll shatter your knee caps.”

Megan walked around Y/N’s body, grabbing her hips from the front before guiding her to bend downwards to the ground.

Just a couple feet away, Lara wasn’t far behind. She had come back into the studio just as Y/N and Megan were getting closer. Her eyes flicked between the two, her gaze narrowing as she watched them move. Every step, every touch seemed to fuel the fire that was burning inside her. There was something about the way Megan and Y/N moved together that made Lara feel possessive, something that made her blood boil.

When Megan and Y/N collapsed into each other from laughing at how ridiculous the older looked doing the back-bend, Lara’s voice cut through the air, sharp and accusing. “Is this what you’ve been doing when I’m not there, Y/N? Are you letting her fuck you when I’m out?”

Y/N froze, her heart racing as she turned to face Lara, who stood in the doorway with her arms crossed.

Megan glanced at Sophia and the girls for help, before finally sharing a look with Y/N, who just shot her a weary frown.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. “Lara, please. Not here, okay?”

Lara’s eyes flashed with something dark. “Say it.”

Y/N shook her head, stepping back. “No.”

The room was heavy with the tension, but Y/N stood firm. No more manipulation, no more games. It was time to move forward. And she was ready to do it; with or without Lara.

“Say it, shona,” Lara purred, her piercing eyes burning Y/N’s body up as the others looked to Sophia for help.

The rehearsal space fell into a tense silence after Lara’s outburst, and Y/N felt the weight of the moment settle heavily on her shoulders. Her chest was tight, her breath shallow. She had said what she needed to say to Lara, but she wasn’t prepared for the fallout. The other band members exchanged glances, all trying to avoid stepping into the middle of the drama that had clearly erupted between the two of them.

Sophia had seen enough. Her patience, always thin when it came to unnecessary drama, was wearing dangerously thin now. She had warned Lara about this happening, she had warned her about involving the group—and now the staff—in their drama.

“Lara, Y/N, both of you. Now. In the back room. Figure it out. I won’t have this mess in the studio.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but Sophia’s glare silenced her. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of guilt; after all, she’d been the one to end things with Lara. But the tension had grown too unbearable to ignore.

Lara, with her usual defiance, scowled but didn’t argue. She stood up, and Y/N followed her, albeit reluctantly. The room was small, dimly lit, and devoid of any distractions. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving them both in a silence that neither of them knew how to break.

Y/N leaned against the far wall, arms crossed protectively over her chest, trying to hold onto the calm she had found earlier. Lara stood near the center of the room, her eyes on the floor, her posture rigid. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Y/N’s mind raced, and she couldn’t stop replaying their argument. She still couldn’t believe how quickly things had escalated, how everything had shifted in such a short time. She wasn’t angry anymore; she was just… confused. But there was also a part of her that was deeply sad. She had never expected Lara to take things this far.

Finally, Lara spoke, her voice quieter than usual. She sounded to soft. So vulnerable. “Why the fuck do you do this shit?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What?”

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” Lara muttered, still avoiding Y/N’s gaze. “Such a fucking brat, all you do is drive me closer and closer to the edge.”

Y/N shook her head. “Lara, I never—”

“Just stop,” Lara interrupted, her voice tight. “I can’t fucking stand you doing all that. Just making silly little plans with Megan and letting her grope you in the middle of our practice.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed in confusion. “But Megan’s my roommate—my best friend. Why are you so angry?”

Lara finally lifted her eyes, meeting Y/N’s gaze for the first time since the argument began. Her eyes were darker, filled with something Y/N hadn’t expected to see there: vulnerability.

“Fuck, I never thought I’d feel this way. About you. But I do.” Lara’s words came out in a rush, as if the truth had been choking her, fighting to get out for far too long. Her emotions spilt from her lips like vomit. “I don’t just want… what we had. I want more. And I know that’s messed up, because I’ve always said ‘no strings attached’, and I don’t know how to make up for it. But fuck, I need you.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thicker as Y/N absorbed Lara’s confession. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. It wasn’t just a slap of revelation—it was a soft, painful truth that Lara had been too afraid to admit, to both herself and Y/N. It hit Y/N harder than she expected, and she took a shaky breath, her mind spinning. It was horrible; she loved her.

“You… you have feelings for me?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She was afraid to hope, afraid to let herself believe that this could somehow be the reason behind Lara’s erratic behavior.

Lara nodded, her hands twitching at her sides, as if unsure what to do with them. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I thought I could just keep things casual, keep things light. But then, when I started seeing you with Megan, I realized I want—no, need you to be mine and mine only.”

Y/N’s heart ached. The tenderness in Lara’s voice caught her off guard. She had never seen this side of her before. It wasn’t just the brash, cocky girl who flirted and made everything seem like a game—it was a girl who was, for the first time, laying her heart bare.

“I don’t know how to do this, Y/N,” Lara continued, her voice quiet but earnest. “I don’t know how to show you that I’m sorry, that I care. But I want to be with you, if you’ll let me.”

Y/N swallowed, her throat tight. The weight of Lara’s words, the raw honesty she was witnessing, made everything seem more complicated than it had been just an hour ago. She had walked into this room thinking she would have to hold her ground, but now, everything was different.

“I can’t just forget how you treated me,” Y/N said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “You hurt me, Lara. And I don’t know if I can just brush that aside.”

Lara’s face fell, and for a moment, she looked like she might fall apart. But she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I know. I know I’ve hurt you. And I don’t expect you to forgive me just like that. But I’m asking for a chance. A real chance. I’m not perfect, Y/N. I’ve never been perfect. But if you’re willing to give me a chance to show you that I can be better… I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat as she stared at Lara. She could see the sincerity in her eyes, the quiet desperation there. And despite everything, despite all the hurt, there was a part of her that still cared deeply for the girl standing in front of her.

She took a step closer, her voice soft but firm. “I need time. I need space to think about this. I’m not going to just jump back into something with you. But… I won’t shut you out. I just need you to show me that you’re really willing to change.”

Lara nodded, relief washing over her like a wave. “I’ll show you. I promise.”

Lara leant in closer, her breath whispering against Y/N’s ear. Her hands grabbed the younger's thighs, yanking her close until her crotch was pressed against hers as she leant forward. Y/N jumped, letting Lara press her against the wall.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N breathily questioned.

"I’m showing you how much you mean to me," she whispered, her voice husky as she smirked.

Y/N let out a breathy moan, she felt her face grow hot with excitement as Lara’s lips brushed against hers.

They were lost in the rhythm of each other's breathing, their bodies moving in perfect sync like two halves of a whole. Y/N felt herself being pulled closer, her hips grinding against Lara’s. The Indian’s hands cupped the younger’s ass as she swallowed whatever noises leaving the younger's mouth, squeezing gently. Their kiss deepened, their tongues tangling together.

Y/N felt herself getting lost in the sensation, her senses overwhelmed by the taste and smell of Lara. She was aware of nothing else except themselves, lost in this vortex of desire.

Lara’s fingers dug gently into Y/N’s skin as she pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together like puzzle pieces fitting snugly into place. Y/N felt herself being consumed by the heat of Lara’s desire, her own passion igniting like a flame touched to dry kindling. As they broke apart for air, their chests heaving like bellows pumping air into a furnace.

"Oh, shona," Lara panted, her voice husky. "I need you."

Y/N’s eyes flashed with desire as she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then take me."

And with that, they came together like two magnets drawn to each other's poles. Their bodies crashed together in a whirlwind of passion and desire. Their kisses grew more intense, more insistent, as if they were trying to consume each other whole. Their moans and gasps filled the air, mingling with the sound of rustling fabric and faint echoes of Debut outside.

[growlingven]

Hey so this is something I put more effort than I expected into. It’s cozy, and a bit depressing. Knifeplay and gore tws, but no consequences. Praise to @butchwolfmom who helped flesh out my ideas.

The tension is what hurt the most. A distinct difference between her life at home and out. She leads her victim by the hand, walking up the step. Sneaking through the front door. Pointing out the stairs which creaked loudest. This aspect of her life that so few knew about. A source of joy, of true talent and utter satisfaction. Steps taken slowly, hands hot with sweat but not letting go, Blood rushing in her ears. Who could have known that breaking into one’s own house could be so exhilarating. This moment was not something she could share with anyone who really mattered to her, except for her love.

She slips inside her room with prize in tow, pulling the door shut. The facade drops, spinning around to press her prey against the door. She prays that her parents just across the hall would stay asleep. Frantic kisses find their way to cheeks and lips, and down jaws. Nails dig into each other’s sides to pull themselves ever closer, burying themselves in their other. Hickeys are left trailing along revealed necks and chests after collars are stretched out of the way. muffled giggles and gasps in equal measure fill the air of the room, moans hidden within deep kisses. She thinks of her parents walking in on them. Of the confusion they would express, their denial or misunderstanding taking over. She pulls her precious thing away from the door and falls forwards onto her bed, ensuring her squirming toy is wrapped up in an embrace under her. How could they ever understand this.

Weak grinding and stolen nibbles, deep kisses and hands slipping up under clothing all work to enflame the momentum of desire. Quickly, rope is wound tight around her victim’s wrists and ankles Leaving it bound down upon her childhood bed. Memories of years past fill her mind. Her staring with a sense of shame and need at similar images of people tied spreadeagle across a bed. Even as her love flexes, the knots made by her well trained hands don’t slip or loosen despite the straining. Remembering, As a child, her not knowing what this was but wanting it nonetheless. And it gasps under her, “w-what are you going to do to me.” These were scenes and images from childhood made real. She trailed a finger up a leg, teasing across the waist, clawing along the neck of her toy, coming to rest upon the lips. Silence ordered, sealed with a kiss. These stories, still hidden in the darkness of her room where none but her should see.

And from under her bed she takes out her set of precious knives, an unmatchable gift which she would use on the very being who gave them to her. With tenderness she began unwrapping the cloth around them. Imagine if her parents saw her now, finally the surgeon they always dreamed of. She lays each one on the nightstand letting the moonlight shining through the window catch them, leaving each knife to shine like liquid silver. Her victim whimpers at the sight, of the tools which would soon be disassembling it. “Ahh ah,” she cools into its ear, “Darling be quiet. We can’t let them hear.” It whimpers again, quieter this time. They’d be horrified wouldn’t they. Seeing the blood and pain that delighted their child so. Unable to cover its mouth, bucking up at her as she straddled its hips, begging for her to finally begin.

She starts by picking a long serrated knife, the kind one would use for bread. She saws the blade down its chest to tear apart clothes, bearing its flesh before her. What did it mean, that she could think of, even dream of carving into this living flesh like marble. It quivers and pleas with its eyes for her, understanding that every noise it would make would only serve to drive her further. A second knife is chosen. One well used, sharpened again and again. Why wasn’t she disgusted by those choices. It struggles not to scream when the knife tip pierces its skin. She couldn’t look at the wound. It refuses to writhe as the blade is dragged along its chest. Leaving it ungagged is a choice, a single torturingly risky decision. And in the moment after the knife is removed, when its freedom is returned, it begs for more. It wants this done to it, wants to be held and hurt and bled. But why, her thoughts scream, would anyone sane want to do this to another, to the person they loved. It begs to have blood running down its body, to have its arms and thighs covered in wounds. It begs to bleed so perfectly for her tormentor. She wants to cut her love apart, needs to give in. Needs to…Needs to stop.

She drops the knife.

“I can’t darling, I…we can’t” she whispers, fumbling in the darkness for the blade, “We can’t have anyone else seeing. If your parents knew-”

“D-did you forget?” It gasped out between slow and delirious thoughts, “I moved out. You can go as far as you want with me.”

With shaking hands she finds the knife. Tears spill onto her sub’s chest, mixing with blood. “I..right. I’m sorry. I forgot.”

And so she cuts. Her hands shake, her eyes fill with tears. And still she cuts. Her victim, suffering at her hands, writhing and pleading, looks up at her. She can’t meet its gaze. She can’t look it in the eyes. Her hands are numb, wet. She can’t stop crying.

It asks if she’s okay.

She carves another small tear-stained heart into its shoulder and nods. She’s fine. The cuts are jagged. It doesn’t look like a heart.

It says stop.

She freezes. She went too far. She shouldn’t have wanted this. She hurt someone she cares about

“Please cut me free,” a voice whispers from under her.

She Does so.

“Are you okay,” the mass of blood and meat under her whispers again.

She can’t look up, she’s stuck staring down at her blood covered hands holding a knife. She says she’s sorry.

She’s so sorry.

Her love places a hand on her cheek, wiping a tear.

“Don’t touch me,” she whimpers, clambering off of it, pulling a mess of blankets with her, “you don’t deserve..this”

Its touch was so cold on her face. Was it dying. Did she do this to it. What would happen now.

“I need you,” the words cut through racing thoughts, and a hand reached towards her.

What choice did she have but to take it. To be dragged from the safety of nothing but herself and blankets and stand staring before the mess that she had made.

She enjoys looking down at that display of cuts, at the hearts and stars and swirls forced into every bit of skin. The way the blood pooled and flowed through furrows of gore. She enjoys this. She did this.

“W-where is the thread, I need you to help me”

She opens the bedside table, pulling out a needle, thread, cloth, antiseptic and bandages. She could fix this, she could undo everything that happened and everything would be okay, and this would never have happened.

So she began to clean, and stitch. Her love’s hand grips her by the hair, pulling and gasping in pain when tears fall onto its wounds.

It holds her, it thanks her, it pulls her close, it doesn’t let her pull away. Its chest is cleaned, red gore replaced with the sheen of clean antiseptic. And she is made to lay beside it, head buried in the crook of its neck, sobs wracking her form. Hands run through her hair. “That was perfect, my love,” it cooed, “You did good.”

They lay there, warming themselves, sweat and tears wicking away. Tears turned to shaking, to words of fear and praise. They pull the Scattered blankets up, the rest of the world forced out

[glitterpinkfemme]

I’m gonna go fucking feral if I don’t eat her pussy soon. Not giving head for this long is homophobic and should be treated as a hate crime.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Telling The LADS Men to Ditch The Condom

Them reacting to you saying you want them to fuck you raw. Warnings : MDNI, sex, oral, handjob, and general smut These banners are mine, please do not reuse them.

Zayne, as a doctor, preached safe sex. He appreciates the responsibility and nothing is more attractive to him than a woman who is aware of her birth control options and doesn’t mind communicating openly with him about these decisions. After all, having sex was such an intimate act for him that he wouldn’t even think about it until you’d been dating for at least a month. He likes the exclusivity and the closeness of sex, and that includes being held accountable for the choices both of you made in the bedroom. So when you tell him to lose the condom, he blinks, making sure he hasn’t misheard you.

“You…want to do it without a condom?”

His head is between your thighs, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh as he edges his way towards the moist and sensitive folds, and he raises up on his elbows to ensure his ears aren’t being obstructed by your legs.

You nod slowly, blushing as his dark eyes fixated on yours, the flecks of amber in them lightening at the idea. His pupils dilate at your affirmation, and he hoists himself up a little higher, resting on your belly, gently stroking your flanks. “You’re sure about this? There’s no pressure you know.”

“I know. But I feel like we’ve been together long enough to allow ourselves to go one step further. And I’m on the pill. We can monitor the situation later if you want to but honestly Zayne, I think any step I take with you isn’t going to be something I regret.” You say the words candidly, reaching down to stroke his black, silky, locks of hair, heart skipping a beat as he plays with the squish of your belly, nuzzling his face into the softness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

His eyes flutter closed for a second, the ebony eyelashes resting like fans on his cheekbones before he sighs, the little puff of air sending a shiver across your middle. He crawls up towards your face, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, tongue sliding across the slit of your lips before entering inside. You cup his face and deepen the kiss, heat gathering in your body. Zayne pulls away only to come to your ear, hot breath tickling you as he speaks.

“I don’t think I’ll regret this either.” He licks the shell of your ear, making you twitch. “But remember, if you change your mind, I’ll stop. No questions asked.”

His words are so sincere and spoken with love, adding fuel to the fire. Zayne, patient and considerate, is looking at you with those sharp eyes as if you’re his last meal on earth. He kisses his way down, pausing briefly to shower some attention over your perked nipples, giving them soft licks and kisses that make you mewl and whine with need. Once he’s back at his original spot between your legs, your arousal has increased a hundredfold, your sex soft and swollen, leaking fluid as he parts your folds.

His tongue darts out, tasting you, licking slow lines from cunt to clit, before slurping the swollen pearl into his mouth, suctioning it with his lips. His middle finger flirts with your entrance, teasing it until it starts sucking in his fingertip, drawing a moan from you as he strokes it along your upper wall.

Zayne knew his anatomy and he never wasted a second in touching you exactly in the spot that made you feel like you were turning into a pile of goo. Never in a hurry, always taking his time, coaxing orgasms from you like a hobby, the breath tearing from your throat, your core spasming from the pleasurable waves that radiate throughout your body. Zayne nudges you through the final vestiges of your orgasm before stroking himself, readying his hardened cock.

He’s done this before but what gets to him as he aligns his tip with your hot entrance is how heightened the sensation is, the absence of latex allowing him to profoundly feel every muscle contract and fully experience how wet and welcoming your body truly was. He grits his teeth, his balls throbbing, desire surging through his veins, almost snapping his self-control.

He inches in slowly, splitting you apart, marveling at how you stretch to fit him, the little noises that leave your throat music to his ears. Once fully sheathed, he looks at you, hair tousled and splayed across the pillow, a flush across your face. He thrusts with care, drawing a moan of longing from you and softly rolls his hips, adjusting himself at an angle he knew you liked.

Every movement brushed his mushroomhead against your gspot, soft sighs filling the air, his lips descending onto yours, his thumb working your clit, gradually bringing up your pleasure to another peak.

“You feel so good darling,” he pants, his thrusts becoming steadily faster, his willpower fading away to primal need. “Taking me so well,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.

Your body is reeling from the stimulation and with Zayne’s gentle ministrations on your clit you cum with a cry, his hips stuttering as he feels the orgasmic spasms of your core around his cock. He tries to hold on, but it’s too much, his head growing sensitive as your second orgasm sucks him in deeper into your warmth, his balls tightening up and the coil in his belly compressed to a limit until it snaps, and with a grunt, he spills himself into your body.

Afterwards, he holds you tenderly, gently easing out, and cleaning up your messy slit with a warm washcloth, playing with your hair until the both of you fall asleep.

This is a man who’s been taught condoms are the best way to avoid complications. It’s a golden rule that he will not have unprotected sex for both health reasons and to avoid making the person he’s with uncomfortable. You don’t have condoms? He’s running to the pharmacy to get some. He takes these things seriously and understands that it’s simply gentlemanly to be the one to buy condoms. Xavier wants to feel like he can be relied on in situations like this and that you should never feel awkward asking him to make a condom run or any kind of run.

He’s reaching for the box to roll one onto himself when you hold his wrist. Curiously, he looks at you, a sight to behold, a heavenly sight laying on his bed, lips plump and swollen from his kisses, body glistening with sweat from your recent orgasm.

“Ditch the condom Xav,” you murmur, tracing his arm with your fingers, causing goosebumps to bloom on his skin, his usually slow heartbeat picking up a few paces.

“Are you sure angel?” He lays down gathering you in his arms, his erection tickling your belly as he breathes in the perfume of your hair.

“Positive.” You stroke his cheek reassuringly, feeling like you could drown in the depths of his blue eyes, unable to control the little giggle that leaves your throat as he blushes at your confirmation.

“Xavier.” You grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never been more sure. I know I can trust you, rely on you. And right now, I can’t think of anything I want more than to feel you inside me, no barriers.”

He’s shy, his smile so awkward and his face so pink. This was new to him, and the fact that you’re asking so sweetly is pulling at his heartstrings. After hesitating for another moment he places the condom back on the nightstand.

“All right angel. Since you're sure. But tell me if you feel uncomfortable at all ok?” Xavier rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones in circles, a sweet and tender gesture, carefully laying over you, his chest coming into contact with yours as he tips your face up for a kiss, his hands slipping under you and clasping your shoulder blades to bring your body as close to his as he could.

While his tongue explored your mouth, he raises slightly on his knees and effortlessly finds your moist entrance with his tip savoring each tiny inch that envelopes his cock with aching warmth. He's unable to control the sigh that escapes his lips, lost in your mouth as he feels the wet muscles contract around him, pulling him in. The feeling is inexplicable, the intimacy of skin on skin making him feel heady and light, heart racing in his chest.

His brilliant blue eyes begin to darken at the edges, turning into a darker shade of midnight as he bottoms out, little noises of contentment resounding in your throat as you feel the hot velvet column of his cock fill you, feel the way it pulses as he occupies your pussy.

“Xav… You feel amazing,” you gasp as you pull away from his mouth, his hips coming to lay flush against yours as he thrusts into you, stroking your inner walls and teasing all the right spots inside you. He's hot and flushed, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure, his blush settling across his cheeks and nose like adorable pink freckles. You smile hazily as him and his head dips down to suckle as nipple, his tongue caressing the little bud, turning your moans into sighs of longing.

When his thumb starts to circle your clit you almost cry out from the pleasure of it all, every sensitive spot being hit at the same time with aching perfection. His breath mingles with yours, sweat forming on both your bodies as you rock against each other, creating delicious friction, matching the other rhythm for rhythm, strike against long stroke.

The edges of your vision blur as your climax grows nearer and Xavier’s jaw grows tight, a moan escaping his lips as he tries to hang on, determined not to climaxes before you. His thumb picks up its pace and with a shaky gasp, your orgasm hits, the sweetness of it making you sob as it grips you, feeling your core spasm, and with a final push of triumph, he allows himself to succumb to his own desires, cock twitching and spasming along with your pussy as he cums, coating your walls with his seed.

Tired, he collapses on top of you as gracefully as he can, your hands and soothingly rubbing over his back, kissing his hair, murmuring praise to him as he floats down from his high.

“Angel…you're so wonderful. The best.” his head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he tries to grasp into reality. You can't help but laugh lightly. Xavier always gets pussy drunk and now without the condom it appeared to accelerate to an entirely fucked out state.

His eyes gleam like sapphires as his breathing returns to normal. “Well how am I supposed to be the guy making the condom run now after knowing what it feels like without one?”

You roll your eyes affectionately at him and flick his forehead.

Rafayel isn't unfamiliar with sex and intimate relationships but he doesn't often engage in them. He's quite shy and doesn't tell you what he's thinking. With patience and a little experimentation, Rafayel slowly came out of his shell and learned to feel comfortable enough with you to express his desires and wants. However, he's nervous about how you'll react to him admitting he's been wondering how it would be without a condom so he clams up.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are half lidded, whining as he rests between your legs, his back against your chest as you pump his erection with aching perfection.

“Feeling good baby?” You coo at him as he writhes under yourself ministrations at your mercy.

“Yeah… So close… Don't stop… “ he pants, hips desperately thrusting up to meet your strokes, feeling his thigh muscles quiver and his abs growing tighter with each passing second.

“Talk to me Raffy… how good am I making you feel?”

“So good…” His eyes, a lovely shade of lavender gray are starting to turn into smoke as his impending climax builds and rises. His cheeks are flushed and there's sweat on his forehead and chest from the exertion, the gentle crescendo of pleasure building to a steady peak.

He gazes up at you in a haze, those adorably plump lips parted as he gasps for air.

“You're so pretty when you pout you know?” you ask teasingly and as predicted his brow furrows, displeased at your amusement.

“Don't… say things like… that!” the color in his cheeks rises and your own control slips slightly as you lean down to give an admonishing nibble on his lower lip. The extra stimulation is enough to push him over the edge and with a groan he pulses, his cock warm and needy in your palm, spilling his cum into your hand.

Your clean hand plays with his pretty hair as you continue to pump him with care ensuring he rides out every drop of his orgasm, a few more more spurts of viscous fluid leaking from his tip before stopping.

Rafayel relaxes on your lap as you reach over to grab a tissue and wipe off your hand. His eyes linger on your messy hand, sticky with his arousal and he feels his cock twitch despite having just cum.

“I wonder what it would look like slipping out of your pussy instead of your hand,” he says in a quiet pondering voice that has you pausing, a wicked grin forming on your face.

“Raffy… Did you just say you wanted to fuck me without a condom?” You emphasize the word ‘fuck’ on purpose because of how flustered he gets when he hears it and sure enough, he pouts, a noise of embarrassment escaping his lips, rolling onto his side to hide his face.

You quickly discard the used tissue and lay down to face him, pulling his struggling hands away from his face which looks like a setting sun now, adorably flushed, eyes bright and averted.

“Raffy tell me what you want.” You reassuringly pull closer to him, nuzzling his warm neck.

His cheek rests on the top of your head and with a sigh he admits with a hint of bashfulness, “I fantasize about it sometimes. But we don't have to,” he adds quickly.

Your laughter is muffled by his neck as you lean back to look at him. “I think we've been together long enough to discuss doing it raw.” You look at him imploringly.

“Cmon baby. We can ditch the condom today. I kinda want to know what it feels like too.”

His smokey lavender roam over your face, still carrying hints of hesitation in them. “You're sure? You're not just doing this because I want to right?”

“Oh Raffy. There's never been a day where you've made me feel forced to do anything. I'm very sure.” You cup his face between both your hands and gaze at him lovingly.

He laughs awkwardly, smiling shyly and you feel his erection press against your thigh as the both of you draw in for a kiss, Rafayel pulls your knee over his hip, stroking your moist folds with his cock. You whine in pleasure as he holds his cockhead up to your clit and you slide along his length, both of you sighing passionately at the intimate touch. His engorged tip cups the base of your clit so perfectly and you feel your core clench in anticipation.

Rafayel drags his length between your folds one more time before sliding down to your needy hole, groaning as your wet heat circles his tip. You push down on him, feeling the heat of his member, enjoying the way he fills you so wonderfully, his head sitting snug against your gspot.

The thrusts were shallow in this position but it allows you to snuggle into his chest, look deeply into his eyes and kiss him at leisure, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you with aching precision. He toys with your clit , pinching and rolling it for your pleasure.

He's amazed at how good you feel, how tight you are around his length, how wet you really are. The condom almost dulled this sensation and it feels like he's woken from a dream and experiencing reality for the first time.

Your orgasm hits sharply, making you cry out and cling to him the combined fondling of your clit and gspot too much for handle. As it starts to settle down you moan in his ear.

“Baby… Give it to me. I want to know what your cum slipping out of my pussy feels like too. Please… Cum for me… Like how I came for you…”

Your voice is whiny and pleading and Rafayel's hips stutter as he reaches his peak, letting out noises of his pleasure into your ear as he cums, and you feel his hot seed fill your eager pussy. As the both of you catch your breath, kissing each other in the afterglow, everything feels right.

Rafayel's erection softens and as it happens you feel the unmistakable feeling of your combined cum sliding out of your pussy, pooling at the crevice of your thigh.

“That's so hot,” you murmur and from Rafayel's expression he's thinking the same thing. He gathers a little bit of your mixed fluids on his finger, fascinatedly tasting it, his eyes intoxicated at the flavor.

“See what happens when you tell me what you want?” you strokes his arm. He nods then gets close to your ear.

“I don't think I want to use a condom ever again.”

Sylus is that guy who loves going in raw but only if he's sure you're into him. And despite the talk of him being the ruthless leader of Onychinus, he's a true gentleman and would never bring the topic of having unprotected sex unless you initiate it. He prides himself on being someone you look to for security amidst the chaos in the N109 zone.

His fingers are knuckle deep into your pussy, wet squelching noises filling the air as his long fingers expertly tease that bundle of nerves inside you while his thumb rubs circles on your clit drawing out a moan of longing from you, your walls clenching around his thick fingers.

“That's it good girl… Give it to me,” his deep voice rumbles in approval as you writhe desperately on his fingers feeling your body tense in anticipation at what was to come.

His lips hover over your collarbone nibbling leisurely and you roll your hips, moaning as your climax washes over you, pussy spasming from the gratification.

He licks his fingers clean, savoring the tang of your arousal before pulling you in for a deep kiss, pulling you snugly against his chest, and pressing kisses to your hair. You taste the musky flavor of your orgasm, transferred from his tongue to yours.

Your hands are already busy with his cock, tickling his thighs and cupping his balls drawing a chuckle from him.

“Easy kitten. We have all night.” His tongue slips between your lips again and gives you a sloppy kiss, a noise of delight leaving you as you stroke the hot velvet of his cock.

“Sylus?” you stroke him in a steady rhythm that has him humming, the noise sounding like a cat purring, his abs contracting in response to your touch.

“Yes doll?” he licks and nibbles down the side of your neck making you shiver. His crimson eyes fixate on you as you hesitate to speak.

“What is it? You know I'll do anything for you right?” He grasps your chin firmly and makes eye contact, feeling flattered when you blush, your nipples perked from your recent orgasm, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, looking divine.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Um… How would you feel if… we didn't… Useprotection?” the last few words are said in a rush, and your cheeks grow hot as you make your request. It's not normal for you to feel so shy, after all Sylus was incredibly open to experimentation and exploring kinks with you. But there was something so personal about asking this of him, letting a part of him sit within you so intimately and the vulnerability made you feel exposed.

Sylus rises a contemplative eyebrow, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he sees how flustered you're getting.

“The kitten has gotten bold,” he says approvingly. “You wish to have all of me? Feel my cock in all it's exposed glory inside your wet little cunt?”

The crudeness of his words sends a rush of arousal straight into your already dripping core. Heat fills your cheeks and you slap his shoulder.

“Don't say it like that!”

“isn't it the truth though?” Sylus rolls you on top of him as he lays back against the pillows, enjoying the view of your soft body. “Don't you want to feel every inch of my veiny cock fill you, rub your sensitive walls and fuck you senseless? All the while your tight little pussy keeps getting wetter for me and you can't do anything except helplessly moan and let me stuff you with my seed?”

His ruby eyes glitter sinfully as he watches you squirm under his gaze. How cute. His fingers idly stroke your sides, your hands full of his cock but momentarily frozen from his teasing.

“Don't feel like you have to stop on account of me sweetie,” he prompts, then can't stop himself from laughing as you hasten to continue with your strokes. “You fluster so easily.”

“Anyone would if spoken to that way!”

“Oh no sweetie. I doubt anyone else would have such an adorable reaction. Why can't you just admit that you want me in you, no barriers, just raw and primal like animals?”

Your nails scratch over his abs, feeling them quiver. “If you don't want to just say so.”

“Don't be that way.” His red eyes narrow, hands tightening around your waist. “You know I want to.” His large hands cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Then why do you keep laughing like it's funny?” you whine as he twists your nipples, and grind his upper thigh.

Sylus's eyes soften slightly before he leans up to kiss a nipple and pull it softly with his lips. “Mhm… Sy…” your nails scratch his scalp as you cradle his head.

He lets go and blows a puff of air over the hardened peak, causing it to perk up more before circling it with his thumb. “I adore you doll. It’s not that I find it funny. I'm very flattered that you want me that way. But if I let my desire for you consume me, you may find yourself pushed to a limit.”

He traces a finger from between your breasts down to your navel. “You may find me… being rough. More than you're used to. Because kitten…” he leans up with you balanced on his body and with a soft tickle of hot breath on your ear that has you jerking slightly in surprise, he says in a feral whisper, “the thought of burying myself in your cunt with no condom on, feeling how you clench and get turned on for me makes me want to eat you alive.”

Blood rushes to your face and Sylus watches with satisfaction. He caresses your cheek. “Ride me kitten.”

His eyes darken as you glance at him under lowered lashes. You crawl over his body on your hands and knees hovering your slick core over his hard length. He sucks in a breath as you lower your hips, teasingly brushing his tip against your wet hole, the sensation of so inviting it takes all his willpower not to slam into you mercilessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was on top, wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking. Putting you in control was the wise choice here.

“Fuck kitten,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so good. So wet for me.”

Sylus's cock stretches you deliciously as you take him in, feeling his veins and heat pulsate achingly inside you. You whine as you fit him in, you whine each time because he's just so big, and it takes a while to adjust and take him. It never fails to make him smirk but today he's watching intently wondering how he's supposed to last with your pussy gripping him like a glove and enveloping him with your needy heat.

When you finally bottom out, both of you take a collective breath and feeling so full, feeling how he fits inside you. Resting your palms on his chest you start to move, lifting your body up feeling him stroke your inner walls and start to ride him.

You start slow, setting a pace that has him groaning, holding your hips so tightly it hurt but you continue, angling your body until you feel his engorged head brush your gspot. His teeth are gritted as he slips a finger between your legs and finds your hardened clit, stroking it to match your movements.

The texture of his cock has you moaning, his gentle movements on your clit pushing you closer to him edge. Sylus lets out a hiss of air, trying not to disturb your pace but his will is being ripped to shreds.

You were so warm. So tight and wet. And claiming you without a condom in his opinion only solidified further that you were his. Marked, claimed, and rightfully his in the most biblical sense.

Your pace picks up as you ride him, needing more friction pathetic noises leaving your throat as you chase your orgasm. Your thighs quiver and burn from the effort but you're so close that you push through the pain, gasping as Sylus firmly presses into the little bud.

“You're so cute like this, struggling on my cock. Let go for me sweetie… Make a mess all over me.”

His words are a sinful request mingling with the sounds of slapping skin and lewd noises of need. With a loud breath of desire, you cum all over him, eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable spasms that rock your body.

It's too much for Sylus to handle, and taking advantage of your momentary lack of movements, he thrusts upwards into you, fucking you through your orgasm desperate to cum with you.

The absence of the condom aids him and with a loud bark he feels his balls tightening and his orgasm hits him like a train, holding you tightly as pleasure flows through him, his seed filling into your needy pussy.

Fuck he was addicted. He rolls you onto the bed and holds you close to him.

“You're going to be the death of me kitten.”

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[bunny-jpeg]

bulk

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, rugby au, rugby player!price, age gap (20s/40s), size difference/kink, rough sex, doggy style, headlock (slight choking), dirty talk & degrading language, breeding kink, is this ticking off boxes for anyone?

this bunny feeds on comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

john price was a big man. almost ten years playing professional rugby for the english team, he had bulked up since his early years on the team.  thick muscle and a nice softness over top. he was strong, able to carry all the groceries inside of your shared flat and also get his hulking frame across the field with ball in hand. he was also hairy, patches of hair across his chest down to his belly, didn't mention all the pubic hair between his legs. it obscured a lot of his tattoos that he had gotten over the years, like your name over his heart and his jersey number at his thigh (you knew you'd get too hot if you thought about his thighs too much).  you once told him, with your tongue loose with alcohol that it was the ideal male body. that these ‘dehydrated poor excuses of men’ needed to drink water and eat some carbs. 

price was a man's man. you knew the first time you fucked him, that you'd never ever fuck with those limp dicked boys at your university. you got addicted to the feeling of a real man, one who know exactly how to make your eyes roll back and your tongue hang out, panting heavily like a good bitch you were.

post-game price was your favourite shade of john price. you could feel his electricity while in the passenger seat of the car after the match. when he pulled out of the parking lot, he placed his large hand on your thigh. he played with the edge of your skirt and kept his eyes on the road. you could tell that the wheels in his head were turning. 

  “honey?”

  “been thinkin', love.” he said as his fingers edged up your skirt a little more. like he was a teen boy rather than a forty year old man. he was teasing you, knowing that there would be no way you could both fuck in the back of his car. even it was an expensive vehicle, it would be a tight fit for such a large man and his smaller wife. 

you looked at him and said, “never a good thing for a man to think.” you giggled then yelped when he gripped your thigh suddenly. 

he chuckled a little as he continued to drive, “thinkin' about makin' a baby.” he licked his top lip, “i ain't gettin' any younger, love. and you're almost done school, so i think it's high time we start makin' a family.” his words were honey in your brain. it made you squirm. your much bigger, much older husband was asking for you to make a baby with him. 

  “someone's got baby fever.” you giggled as you placed your hand over his. the air of the car grew warmer, which made price open the window a little.  you squeaked a little bit when he gripped you harder. you felt your heart rate pick up at the feeling of his large hands on you.

he chuckled a little, as he looked at you briefly while at a stop light. he leaned in to kiss you, “of course. part of me's been thinkin' about you walking across the stage at your graduation with my little brat in your belly.” then looked back to start driving again. 

you rubbed your thighs together and felt wet at your core. you couldn't deny your husband, plus you had been subject to baby fever as well. maybe it was your body screaming for your lover. to have a part of him in you. and it wasn't like you two were being the most safe, so accidents could've happened. once back at your flat, you weren't in your clothes for long. 

price had practically ripped your skirt off of you and those large paws he called hands were groping at your plush ass with his lips on your neck.  you could feel his hard cock inside of his white briefs. the pre cum leaked through the fabric as he humped against you. he said in a heated tone, “i need it. i need her.” while made you moan then try to get your bra and panties off. you felt the heat rising in your skin, it was painfully hot for you. it excited you in ways that left you feeling hot all over. 

  “how badly, honey?”

he pulled you right up against him, his clothed cock digging into your abdomen, “more than anythin'. i need ‘er.  i need ’er stuff full. want it to smell like me for months. and if it doesn't, i'll just fill 'er up again.” he slapped your ass and watched you moan with your back arched. he groped the cheek one last time before he took his naked wife to the bedroom. 

his clothes were tossed to the side too, the t-shirt from the rugby league and basketball shorts. once everything was off, you admired your lover for a long moment. seeing all the heft and hair on him. his body that was so strong that he could easily crush you in his bicep or between his thighs. it made your core throb as you got into bed. 

  “nah, nah.” price said as he got onto the bed and grabbed your hips, “i need a deeper angle, somethin' to really show her i love you.” then patted your pussy before he gripped onto your hips once more and turned you onto your stomach. he then angled your hips up then dragged a finger across your achy slit. he chuckled, “there she is.” then leaned in to give your slick cunt a little blow, watching your hole flutter.

  “mmm please, honey.” you arched your back as you felt your husband so close to you. your hulking husband who only hours earlier was running across the field, fighting his way through the other team. his strong legs carried him and you were sitting in the stands with your thighs pressed together with need. 

price replied, “i know, i know. i know you need me” he rubbed his achy cock up against your slit, “always so good for me. knew for the moment i met ya that i wanted ya for the rest of my days.” there was an age gap between you two, but in all fairness, it turned you on even more. knowing that this handsome older man wanted to make sure that his cock was buried in you. 

when he pressed into you, your back arched. you gasped heavily into the covers as he lifted your hips further to get a better angle to sink into you. he laid over top of you, his fuzzy body up against your back. he pressed his weight onto you and kept that heavy cock of his snug inside of you. you groaned loudly, muffled by the pillows under your head. 

  “honey.” you whined as you felt the ache of his cock so deep in you. 

he got one of his hefty arms around your throat, keeping you further pinned against the bed. it wasn't hard enough to choke the lights out of ou. but enough to have pressure that made your head swim. it all felt so good and just just started. your voice was strained when price started to rut against you. his pace wasn't fast like a young stallion, but they were hard. every thrust of his hips were lazily slow but hit the back of your pussy perfectly. his cock had a thickness to it, you had carried rolls of ground beef that weighed less than his cock. not to mention the forest of pubic hair anf his breeder balls. he was a perfect man, body and all. he  took you so well. 

  “she likes me.” he said, “your pretty cunt. i bet you were thinkin' about me on the field. all dirty and roughed up, yeah. bet you wished i fucked ya right in the locker room. let the boys hear how i make my girl feel. bruise that poor pussy of yours.” he said, words hot in your heat. it made sweat settle over you.

you whimpered a little against the covers, “please, john. ah!”

he continued to fuck you, his pace was aggressive and it made you see stars. his arm was still around your throat and you could feel your pulse in your jaw. he left messy kisses on your face, leaving your cheek wet. you whimpered and clenched around his cock which only made him fuck you harder. you were such a good little wife for him. being so good to your man while he wrecked your sweet little hole. 

  "honey! please! you whimpered as you arched your back, but didn't get far due to the impressive size of your lover. you felt pinned under him, his strength. you gasped out another noise as the blunt head of his cock kept bullying your sweet insides. letting it make a huge mess of you, his cock was soaked in your wetness. it dripped down his hairy balls. he loved making his girl feel good. 

he continued to kiss your face, not quite getting your lips. his facial hair brushed against your heated skin and made you over sensitive. his mouth kept running as he kept moving. he felt hot all over, like a heat in his gut as he battered your sweet insides, “my perfect woman.  know how to take me so well. meant to take me. givin' me the privilege to make you a mama. ya like that? showin' up to uni with a little extra next semester. my dutiful little wife. keepin' up her studies while she nursing my babe.” he chuckled as he continued to keep that pussy of yours nice and filled. 

you gasped and moaned into the covers. you could be as loud as you wanted, you were in the safety of your bedroom as price rutted against you. your body was sweaty and your head was swimming. it was so painfully erotic, you felt hot all over. your heart thumped in your chest with a heavy beat as price kept moving against you. 

  “you're lucky you have the ring already. if your classmates saw you with a nice round middle, they might have gotten the wrong idea about you. that you're a dirty slag who can't keep her legs closed.” he chuckled as he licked down the sweat on the side of your neck, “dirty bird. but it's alright, we're married. you're my wife. mrs. jonathan price. about time you got a little one in your belly.” he pressed further into you and it made your head spin. his cock felt like it was pressing into your stomach. 

  “i love you.” you panted.

he finally kissed your lips, or at least the corner as he tightened his hold around your throat, “i love ya too, sweet thing. lettin' my cock bully your sweet insides. made for me, all of me. don't worry, be keepin' that womb warm for a long time. hope ya like 'em big, price boys can be a handful.” he laughed as he kissed the back of your neck. 

he was fully crowded in your space as he worked your sweet pussy. you barely had time to think before you felt the flash of orgasm through your body. it was like being engulfed in a quick heat while your body tensed up and your mind went blank. your pussy drooling on his cock, beckoning him to finish inside of you. 

a good husband always finishes in his wife. 

with a few more heavy thrusts against your limp body price finished inside of you. he pushed his cock all the way inside of you and made sure that your hips were at an angle that made it easier for you to get pregnant. he clutched onto you as he slowed down to a stop. your eyes rolled back a little as he pulled out. the loss of pressure made you whine. you weren't able to form any proper thoughts, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as your husband rolled you onto your back and kissed you deeply on the lips. 

no need to think, mrs. price. let your rugby playing husband do all the decision making. <3

[yameoto]

caitvi sandwich

wives returning from war

tw; dom!caitlyn, dom!vi, f!reader, double penetration, voyeurism, masturbation, pussyfucking, pussyeating, blowjobs, overstimulation, 3some, sex if it was a competitive sport. wc; 1.8k

you are all they can think about. all fucking day. it’s a wonder they could've waited this long, really, to get home and fuck their sweet, sweet darling. by the time the door opens, they’re ready to jump your skin.

“baby,” vi gasps, bulging arms winding tight around your waist and seizing you—lifting you into the air like you weigh nothing more than a china doll. she kisses you, hard. then kisses you again, and again, and again; peppering down your jaw to your neck to your collar. they’re sloppy in their haste, nuzzling into your throat with a hefty amount of neediness.

seriously. you haven’t even put down your tea, yet.

“stop hogging her.” caitlyn complains, as she collapses back onto the couch. she angles her head upwards, and caitlyn kiramman does not pout—but the gleam of her doe-eyes is uncharacteristically sulky.

vi spins you around, much to your disgruntled (though, secretly pleased), “hey!” before she delightedly turns to caitlyn, smirking. “don’t tell me you’re jealous, little ms. dignitary.”

caitlyn scowls.

“you aren't the only person who’s missed her, you know.” she grouses, and vi just grins. “spread your legs, cupcake.”

there’s a beat in which caitlyn wearily glares, like, really? you’re ordering me around? though she concedes, legs unfolding from their elegant cross to fall open, wide and inviting.

vi promptly plops you into caitlyn’s lap.

caitlyn gasps, pupils darkening in an instant as her knees jerk upwards. she grunts, out loud, when your thighs shift—unintentionally—against her bulge. that’s all it takes, before silk is getting torn of your shoulders by pale hands, and vi is tugging the skin of your nape between her teeth, exhaling shakily against your ear. so. they were clearly on edge.

“been thinkin’ bout you all day, princess.”

“understatement.” caitlyn hisses, hips canting upwards to grind shamelessly up against your groin. oh, gods. she’s getting harder by the minute. “i seem to remember your descriptions on the ride home, vividly.”

“what can I say? it got you all hot and bothered.”

“with nowhere to take care of it.”

you swallow, cheeks hot. “do i get a say in this?”

“no. “no.” two voices resound at once, almost unintelligible with the way vi is biting into your shoulder and caitlyn has begun to ravish the expanse of your tits, like they both won’t be pleased until you leave, bruised and marked to oblivion.

hands seize your hips, flipping you easily—back onto the couch. you can’t tell whose. especially when your eyelids squeeze shut the moment a palm cups your quickly slickening cunt, rubbing over your panties.

“hah..”

“ha.” caitlyn’s voice is drill, yet amused. your eyes fly open when your legs are wrenched apart by large, veined hands, and vi grins up at you from between your legs. your tea, is now unceremoniously spilled all over the floor, porclein in pieces. all in the name of seizing vi’s pink head of hair and smushing her up against your quickly soddening pussy, whining in need. she winks, the asshole, yanking silken underwear down in clumsy movements, and then her rough hands are clamping, spreading you wide open. she’s being beckoned by the heady scent of your cunt; tantalisingly all-consuming. her mouth is watering.

“fuck. been dreamin’ bout this sweet pussy all day.” vi murmurs, hungrily, nose dragging up the insides of your thighs. she marks her way in furious nips, getting sloppier and sloppier; desperate to tongue her way to the prize.

listen. vi wants to work you up—wants to take her time, relish each and every drop that coats your folds in that thickening glisten. it’s just—fuck, princess. d’you have to smell so goddamn good?

“can you not be patient?” caitlyn husks, and annoyance has never sounded so fucking sexy. “i’m trying to enjoy the view.” her legs have slid, to fit over your shoulders, and when your eyes flutter upwards; you’re greeted with the underside of her cock. it arcs above your head, obscuring most of your vision, and it’s enough to draw a needy little whine out of you, hips jerking upwards—right into vi’s waiting mouth.

that’s how it goes. her tongue drags, hot and flat against your swelling, puffy clit, before exhaling into your cunt like a little fucking tease before she dives in.

“who’s fuckin’ pussy is this?” vi growls, mouthing feverishly, one hand pre-occupied with jerking herself, furiously off, whilst the other slides two fingers, stretching you generously open.

“ah-ah—mm—yours.. ow—!

“ours.” caitlyn corrects, twisting your nipple sharply, in reprimand. it’s hard for her to be too mad, when you nose into the wedge of her thighs, apologetically, your hips shaking the couch—like a kitten nuzzling against an outstretched knuckle.

her gaze lowers, black and blue; and your lips part; glossy, plush, and absolutely begging for it. caitlyn can’t resist—her dick sliding its way into your open mouth.

you take her tip like a greedy thing, lips wrapping round and tongue slicking underneath, arching up for more.

“shit, darling.” caitlyn gasps, entire body shuddering, all around you. it takes everything in her not to throat-fuck you right then and there, nails digging into the fabric of the armrest, eyes rolling backwards as you nurse on her cock.

vi laughs, pleased and breathy. each tremor thrums straight to your core. her tongue swirls, panting; hot and heavy, as she pumps her fingers ever deeper, burrowing into your pussy like a woman starved. there are slurping noises, because she’s a messy fucking eater and there’s nothing she loves more than having you smeared all over her chin, her nose, her cheeks—as long as she’s salivating into your pussy. the searing coil in the pits of your stomach winds, tighter and hotter like a spring, overheating.

you can feel vi’s lips curling upwards with every clench of your thighs—hips spasming—bucking heedlessly into tongue. she fucks your head empty. in fact, all you can do is moan into caitlyn’s cock, and that sends shocks of pleasure trembling up caitlyn’s length to her spine; unable to resist pumping herself, deeper, into the warm, wet heat of your throat.

all of sudden, vi thrusts another finger inside, just as her tongue drags upwards and mouth sucks, hard on your clit. she curls, knuckles pulsing against your tight, tight walls. caitlyn seems to approve, because her slow, treacherously-shaky motions begin to stutter into frenetic jerks, breathing harsh. overwhelmed, you let out a mangled croon—back arching off the couch—pinned down two ways, by the cock in your throat and the tongue in your cunt—and promptly cum all over vi’s face.

vi licks it all up. glances upwards from between your legs, smug and pussydrunk, cum dripping from her lips. she makes a show of swiping it with her tongue, though you’re too spoiled by the warm aftershocks of pleasure wracking your body to do too much about it. caitlyn is still fucking you, trying her damndest to remain in control, but her restraint is slipping with every trickle of white that rolls down vi’s throat, and the way you tug her dick deeper into your mouth, like you were made for it.

all you can do, for the moment, is attempt to catch your breath—chest rising and falling in shallow pants as you suck on caitlyn’s cock, suctioning her in, weakly. her hips rock, and in the fuzzy whiteness that’s throbbing your brain you almost don’t realise vi is lifting up off the couch and fisting her own cock in her hands, until your pussy is being splayed open and—ah—fuck!

“hush, baby.” vi coos, almost in awe at the way your pussy gapes, loosened by her fingers and her tongue and wet, wet, wet with her saliva, your pleasure. it yawns open. takes the thick length of her girth so easily. she fucks back into you, smooth and languid, gently tracing fingers up your hips. you’re trembling in overstimulation, sensitive, sore. they always seem to find a way to leave you like that.

“look at you. takin’ me and cait so well.”

look at you, indeed. the outline of vi’s cock pumps in you, along with caitlyn’s own; one raised against your abdomen, the other down your throat. it has the two of them almost dizzy with arousal. vi buries herself inside you—fucking your aching walls in loose, hot drags; biceps tense in fighting the urge to not roughly slam you balls-deep and fuck you into the couch, like some wild animal—lest you choke on caitlyn’s dick. speaking of—

“oh, darling.” caitlyn shudders, as her balls tighten and her thighs clamp down, around you. “i think I’m—ah—“

at the last second, caitlyn jerks herself out from your mouth and aims. her load shoots out—a thick, white arc that splatters against vi’s tits and streams down her torso. there’s a viscous, glossy streak down the line of your body—like a bucket of paint knocked over.

caitlyn pants. vi ceases her motions, momentarily. glancing down at the mess, glistening down the ridges of her abdomen—and then back up at the woman, thighs locked around your head.

she smirks, chest heaving, hips still working. “wow.”

“oh, shut up.” caitlyn slurs, slumping against the armrest of the couch, temporarily satiated. her cock drizzles weakly, as she pumps it lazily in her hand, watching vi fuck you, gentle and slow—hand curling into your hair. her dick twitches.

“next time, you’re swallowing.”

a drop of leftover cum beads, down her length, and splashes on your lip. your tongue drags out, and it’s with a deliberate little arch, you lick it into your mouth. two, twinning inhales; sharp, and shaky. vi’s hips stutter. caitlyn’s eyes meet yours, dark.

oh, you’re not getting a wink of sleep, tonight.

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141! (pt.2)

As the weeks went on, Gaz and Soap would constantly try to pull you into the walk-in. But Simon's stare made you stop dead in your tracks every time. You've resorted to going over to their place, it's always a surprise who's gonna end up on top of who. During breaks between rounds, you'll catch up on a show you were all watching or playing video games and eating snacks. It's light, fun, young, energetic.

"The boys keeping you satisfied?"

Price asks during one of your smoke breaks, he's leaning against the railing again. Your eyes dart to the floor, embarrassed.

"I could take proper care of you."

The words drip from his mouth and run up your legs, making you squirm. He chuckles, a deep rumble from his broad chest.

"I'll pick you up 7 tonight."

Flicks the butt of his cigar onto the wet cement before walking back into the kitchen. Your hand shakes as you finish your cigarette.

The outing was nice, he took you out on a real date. You wore a tasteful dress that he was obsessed with the moment he saw you in it.

Made you order something expensive from the menu.

"Gotta keep you well fed, hm?"

You couldn't argue with him, he held an air of authority even outside of the kitchen. Conversation was pleasant, he kept it appropriate. Actually, that whole time he was an absolute gentleman. Walked you up to your flat. You gave him an anxious kiss that made him laugh softly and you quickly slipped into your studio. You pressed your back to the door, heart pounding. You squinted through the peephole and watched as he turned around, walking away. As soon as you swung your door open, he was stepping inside your place and scooping you up. He gripped your ass while holding you up, his hands positioned in a way that allowed him to rub your folds through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Already wet? Knew you'd be a good girl for me."

You melted in his arms at those words. Gently laid you right on the bed, pulling back to slip off your heels and left kisses from your ankle to inner thigh. He moaned when you giggled from his beard brushing against your soft thighs.

"Fuckin dogs, markin you up like your theirs."

His lips grazed over the hickeys Gaz and Soap left on your hips and thighs. He pulled the dress up and over your shoulders.

"Those sexy fuckin eyes of yours, Christ."

He kneeled over you, taking you in. Your moans, touch, smell, all that was left was your taste. He sunk back down between your legs and had you coming faster and harder than Soap or Gaz. He was down there for hours, only coming up to briefly cram his thick dick into your tight hole just long enough to leave you being for more when he pulled out. So much restraint he had. Only reason he finally finished was because he had to get up early tomorrow. Painted your sore walls with thick ropes of his spend,

"G'na take it all like a good girl, yeah?"

He held your face to muffle your moans with his mouth while he finished pumping into you. Wouldn't even clean you up, just gently pushed whatever leaked out of you back inside. Then he held you close and fell asleep, effectively trapping you in his arms. He ends up driving you to work the next day, taking you in early so he can prep with Ghost. Simon seems more grumpy than usual (it's because he's the one who's supposed to drive you to work, creature of habit he is).

"I'll let you pick her up next time. Don't get mad at me for being a gentleman."

Price sighs while portioning out meat. You swear you see Simon huff.

The drive home was silent as usual, but there was a tension that wasn't present before. Sure, there's been an uneasy or awkward air in the car before, but this was different. You needed it to stop being quiet.

"...sorry for not telling you about John taking me today."

You sat on your hands, staring at the veiny hand gripping the gear lever.

"S'alright, he told me."

His tone was unreadable as ever. He parked in front of your building, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes. You shifted uncomfortably, about to open your mouth to say something.

"G'night."

He interrupted, you nod and step out of his car to your door. You fumble with your keys and turn around to invite him in, he's already locking his car door and headed towards you. Oh fuck.

He doesn't even let you take your shoes off, just flops you onto the edge of the bed and haphazardly pulls down your jeans and underwear, folding you in half.

"Open."

He grunts, shoving two fingers into your mouth, getting them slick with your spit. He roughly fingers your sweet spot until you are overwhelmed with pleasure, then he undoes his pants. You gasp. Literally gasp at the sight of his length.

"That's not going in me."

You blink at him. He looks at you, stroking himself.

"Alright."

He shrugs before slapping his shaft on your wet folds, then rubbing himself against you. He goes at this for what seems like forever, occasionally his tip catches in your entrance before he slides out and continues to grind against you. It's maddening. Finally, you break and beg for him to slide himself in. He does so with no hesitation or concern for your poor walls. Bullies his way inside you until you physically can't take anymore and pounds into you ruthlessly. He covers your mouth with a rough hand while the other toys with your nub. You squeal, yelp, moan. It's all muffled; only to be heard by his ears.

"Atta girl, takin it like a champ."

You were barely keeping it together, each hit to your cervix made you see stars. It hurt. It was heaven. Your eyes rolled back.

"Don't look away from me."

He grabbed your face, making you stare right into his brown eyes. That's what pushed you over the edge, he rode out your orgasm before reaching his. Your heavy breaths filled the room. That's when he finally decides to pull off your shoes and pants. He was surprisingly good at aftercare, made you both some tea (why did he know where everything was?), wiped you down, and put on some cooking competition show. He was into it. Very into it.

"How do you fuck up beurre monté?"

He says to himself, shaking his head while the contestant on TV cried about messing up a sauce. It goes on like this for a while, shitting on chefs choices and mistakes. Your stomach rumbles, he looks at you. Offers to make something. You remember how the food at the restaurant gets sent back. A lot. Decline politely. He walks to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets. You'd say something, but you know you can't stop him. Twenty minutes later he hands you a plate,

"Shakshuka."

It looks...edible. He sits at the end of your bed, eating and watching his show. You take a spoonful into your mouth. Fucking delicious.

"Best I could do with what you had."

He made himself home, slept like he paid the bills, splayed out and snored louder than a Harley. Pinned you right under his arm, mouth right next to your ear. You barely get any sleep.

The next day you drag your feet back and forth from the kitchen.

"Fuckin hell Simon, you kept her up all night?"

John shook his head, burning another steak. Simon grunted, plating the meat and placing it on the window. You served the food to the customer and walked back to the kitchen.

"That's my hoodie."

Soap pointed at Ghost. It was obviously Soap's, they were both well built but Simon's arms and chest stretched the fabric.

"So?"

Simon shrugged, sweeping the floor.

"So? I gave it to her."

"S'fine, she has enough of your shit."

Soap looked at you, betrayed. You shrug, you were too tired to even notice what Simon was wearing.

"Didnae ye notice yer favorite hoodie was gone?"

He looked at you, eyes sad and blindingly blue.

"Give it a rest Johnny."

"'But it's 'er favorite. Right bonnie?"

You nod (you don't have a favorite, but obviously he needs this) and he sighs in relief, smile plastered on his face. Pesters Simon to give him back the hoodie.

"Keep it somewhere safe, aye?"

He hands it to you, holding it like it was a damn fabergé egg.

While Simon and you were walking to his car, Kyle and Johnny run after you, insisting on seeing your place,

"What, only they get to see your flat? It's not fair."

So puerile, Ghost rolled his eyes.

They oohed and aahed at your flat, fawning over your decor. You're thankful for splurging on a king sized mattress. Gaz slept like an angel, but Johnny? Even in his sleep he was restless, kicking and talking. You make a note not to have Ghost and him over at the same time.

Two days later, Johnny almost drops to his knees when he sees Simon in your 'favorite hoodie' again.

[sheloveschai]

bathing with ambessa (18+)

dom! ambessa x fem! reader

older woman/younger woman, slight exhibitionism, thigh-riding, sub! reader

i cannot get this woman out of my head sitting on her lap (or her face) would solve so many of my problems URRGGHHH

“breathe, child.”

water sloshes against the sides of the luxurious bathing pool- a shuddered gasp echos back off the blue and gold mosaic walls of the room.

a bead of sweat rolls down your spine as a partially nude worker dumps another vessel of water near your bodies, and with it, a veil of steam rises giving the illusion of intimate privacy from the guards on standby.

ambessa, in all her esteemed glory, lounges lazily with her head tipped back over the edge of the pool- a warm cloth draped over her eyes. a goblet, which lays in a large rugged hand, is filled near to the brim with a rich red wine.

the other rests on the hollow of your throat- a calloused thumb ever so gently brushing over your slick skin.

“good, little one,” the warlord practically purrs. a grin graces her lips as she feels your hands slip from her shoulders and down to her submerged abdomen, your hands pressing against her scarred v-line for leverage.

her hand, in return, glides from your throat, over your shoulder, before disappearing down under the water to rest on the curve of your rocking hips- not guiding, not pushing, just to simply rest upon.

“such a needy little thing,” she hums. “taking what you so desire.”

a shaky exhale escapes your lips at her words. her low and husky voice adding to your sinuous desires. your nails ever so slightly dig into her intimidating physique as your cunt throbs in need.

with your slick folds spread open over the impressive muscle of her thigh, your clit rubs deliciously over the bumps and ridges of her battle-won scars.

your wanton gasps and whines ring throughout as your head tips forward in deadweight- causing your gaze to connect with the older woman’s breasts.

just beneath the water you can make out her soft nipples. her breasts are heavy and ripened with age, and though not littered with scars won over battles, stretch marks ripple over them like hieroglyphs seen carved into ancient monumental displays.

your hand moves quicker than your brain and suddenly you’re cupping one of her breasts, raising it up and out of the water- exposing it to the colder air. you practically watch in awe as her dark nipple hardens between your fingers as you press and flatten the heavy globe against her chest.

and without a second thought, you’re lurching forward and enveloping her nipple into your warm mouth. you would’ve swallowed her whole if you could’ve, but instead you resort to swirling the sensitive bud around your tongue; licking, nipping, sucking as though you were trying to milk her.

“look at you,” ambessa rasps, a hint of humor underlaying her lust. “starving for my body. my, you’d do anything to have a taste, wouldn’t you, child?”

a low groan rumbles out of ambessa’s chest at the feeling of the scrape of your teeth, the wet heat of your tongue. in an effort to take more of her breast into your mouth, your knee presses against the slick folds of her cunt as you slide further down her thigh.

and the fearsome warlords back, ever so slightly, arches off the edge of the tub.

“like a kitten in heat, you are” she taunts, though there is no covering how she bucks her hips up in order to grind her aching pussy against you.

she begins to move in time with you, the friction your knee provided sending bolts of pleasure straight to her core.

her position of leisure and relaxation did not slip, though. with her legs still spread wide, head tilted back, ambessa had the clear headedness to bring her steel goblet up to her lips without spilling a drop of the red liquid.

with an air of authority, she licks the remnants from her now stained mouth, stretching her arm back over the edge of the pool to set the cup down- without a tremor to be seen.

with both of her hands now free, she removes the cloth from her face, revealing her dark lust-stricken gaze.

her hand slowly delves between your legs, separating your slick cunt from her thigh. she teases you for a moment, smirking as she rubs your aching nub with a feather-light touch, before pressing a digit to your entrance.

“there you go, sweet girl,” ambessa praises, sliding another thick digit along her first, your walls fluttering around the intruding appendages. “now you may have my touch.”

her thumb continues to rub slowly circles on your clit as her fingers pump in and out of you at a relentless pace.

“cum for me” she murmurs huskily as she gazes down at your desperate form still suckling at her tit. “show me how my body brings you pleasure.”

she could feel your body tensing, your muscles coiling tight as she worked her fingers inside you. she could tell you were close, the way you desperately clung to her- the way your walls squeezed around her, urging her deeper.

and it wasn’t until she curled them just right, hitting that spot inside you that had you seeing stars, did you cum.

your body convulsed, muscles squeezing around her fingers as wave after wave of pleasure came crashing down upon you. ambessa held you close as you rode out your orgasm. your body shook, breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

she could practically feel your heart pounding against her chest. and as you slowly came down from your high, you pressed soft kisses and licks into the bitten skin of her breast.

“enough, child” she grunts, finally pulling you away from her raw nipple. “i desire your mouth elsewhere now.”

[08luvmailz]

𓇼 ME MISS YOU . . ਏਓ !

summary 𓍯 which he followed you because he missed you ꒰ 🧾 ꒱ fluffy life with husband

The eerie silence and the harsh wind whispers weaving through the cool night air, though it's only 5:30 in the afternoon. Crouching low, I fisted my hands through my victim's hair and chopped his head off as my breath steadied, eyes locked on the faint rustle of the bushes—a promising sign of tonight's catch.

It's been almost a year of this endless cycle, by day cuddling and having a blissful life with Mr. Crawling as you give him endless affection, or he will whine to death, and by night- killing humans to feed him. As your eyes wandered through your vision toward the unmoving dead body, your mind wavered toward your husband even though you weren't married officially.

You two are together and bonded by our souls, obeying you and listening to you even though there is a gap in speaking, never ceases to stun you every day. He waits at home, is always patient, and is always trusting. The thought of his joy warms you as you tighten your grip on your crowbar and knife.

Back at the apartment, it feels unbearable still. Mr. Crawling gazes through the door—waiting for your return. His fingers relentlessly tapped the tatami board as it echoed through the room. It's been almost an hour since she left him, she always does every day for him.

He still remembered her voice firming when she told him to stay.

He watches her moving to gather her things, his legs tucked close to his body. He knows her too well—the same command she gives every time. Stay. He doesn't think about it but wants more of her touch, only about the moment before her absence, and he clung to her as his large frame wrapped around her waist. He chirped in a low tone, full of worry and protest. His grip tightened slightly, enough to make his point without holding her back.

He pressed his face into your legs, his arms curling towards your leg, "stay" he told her as he snuggled to her, not wanting to let go, “ you’re so stubborn” she murmured, stroking his head. The gesture was a silent reassurance for him to stop worrying though she knew it wouldn't stop him from worrying.

She turns to face him as his face is still smothered to her thighs, his cold lips puckering into her skin. He doesn’t need words to tell her how he feels; the way he clings to her, his body trembles faintly, caught between his instinct to obey and his need to protect her.

As her warm fingers tangled into his hair, brushing it calmly, she told him, " Me back soon; I find food. " she promised, her voice softer now. “You don’t have to worry.”

With a final sigh, she gently pries him off, his cold finger reluctant to let go. “Stay here,” she says, her tone firmer now, though her heart aches at the look he gives her. He didn't move and obeyed her, as she smiled one last time and crouched to his level to kiss his forehead, " I'll be back soon. I Promise," She said one last time to open and lock the door, leaving him in a trance with determination to follow her.

He was hesitant to disobey her requests and always did, lowering his head in submission. But now, in the suffocating silence, he feels the weight of her absence like a stone in his chest. He tried to wait, his attempts to distract himself with television, watching shows that helped him understand her language more, but as soon as his face glimmered when he saw the heroine with her lover cuddling in a scene. It was no use. missing her so dearly that his pull to follow her was too strong, an instinct older than obedience.

She is his world, his reason, and the thought of her out there alone, facing whatever dangers the night might bring, fills him with unease. Even though he knew she was capable of handling herself well, killing those people for him joyed him. He knew she loved him as much as he loved her.

Making his decision wasn't easy for him, he knew he would face the consequences of her ignoring him though he shook his head, he wanted to see her, he needed her now.

He moves swiftly to the door. His movements are precise and quiet, the art of going unnoticed. He knows where she has gone—he’s watched her enough times at the window to remember the path she takes. He follows her scent, a trail as familiar to him as the rhythm of his footsteps. With every step, he feels her grace like a taut thread, pulling him closer to her.

Its darkness yawned wide like the mouth of a beast. He hesitates for a moment, hearing her voice in his mind, Stay. Wait for me. But he presses on.

He moved carefully, his body blending into the dark foliage as his fingers gripped the pole lamp. He saw her gripping tightly to her crowbar and massively hitting her victim, he watched in awe as pride swelled in his chest at the sight of her—strong, capable, everything he admires.

Though he knows the facade she's been growing through back there in his world, he saw her unreality in a tick of time, and by the hanging thread of webs-he had been with her, and he knew she was close to insanity. Was she close? Or she's already been insane nevertheless, he will always be there with her.

She didn't notice him at first, focused on the task ahead. But then a chitter of a familiar voice captivates your attention as you whip your head, your coat shadowing your expression of bloodlust to confusion. There he is, his head tilted with his adoring smile. She shook her head with a giggle, he never listened to her as she pointed him to get closer to him.

He lowered his body as his smile creeped out to his ear, he skitters toward her, his movements quick but careful as he came faster to her and clung to her lower body as his face smothered to her bloodied coat "I miss you, I love you. " he said with a chitter as his cold hands hold her bloodied ones and directly placed into his head.

You sighed in intent and ruffled his hair as you looked down and cupped his face with our bloodied hands "You didn't listen to me, But I forgive you. " You crouched to his level as his hands wandered to your body and cupped your face and smothered a messy kiss on your lips, his cold lips puckering your bottom lip leaving a chitter from him. "Me love you, " he told you as he came closer to your body, his large frame almost hugging your smaller ones. You giggled to him as you corrected his grammar, always forgetting the "I", " I love you, too. "

He chirps, leaning into her touch, his body vibrating with relief, he clung to her like a baby as his face looked at the bloodied streets. "Food?" He questioned her, as his hands never left hers. "Yeah, food for you. " As she pointed to the dead body beside them.

As she stands up to place the chopped meat in a plastic bag with blood, "Let's go home." her hands directing him to hold her, he stands up, his towering silhouette blending with the shadows of the city. His mind is clear, his resolve unshakable. He is with her, the love of his life, and with every consequence they will face, he knows she will be there with him as she is with him.