#it's hard to stress when there are purring kittens on you

[notemily]

I can barely do any of my "stuff" because all my time and energy goes to my job... so my rich fantasy is not having to work. that's it. being able to take life at my own pace and have plenty of time to rest if I feel ill or have a migraine or whatever, not having to drag myself out of bed to go to work because they only give me so many times of calling in sick per month before they start to talk about punishing me for it.

I like the library. but I hate working full time.

[vvousmevoyez]

tw: somnophilia.

leader!karina, who misses you after a long day of rehearsals.

“are you tired, puppy?” karina asks, crawling next to you on the bed until she's reached your eye level. you nod, although she doesn't pay you much attention. she's distracted, lost in her world.

you blush, biting your lip. were you that obvious? you've been working hard not to whine or be a pain in the ass; the girls are as stressed and overworked as you, and acting insufferable was of no use.

“a little,” you admit, purring when the leader pulls you in for a slow, sweet kiss. karina tasted sweet, like always. youcould kiss her for hours— getting lost in the paradise of her lips would always be an honor. upon her raised brows, you sigh, adding, “okay, a lot. my entire body hurts from rehearsals. if we don’t do well tomorrow, I—ugh.”

karina's touches offer enough reassurance for your anxious mind. she places light on caresses your arms, brushing her knuckles against your soft skin. her head fits perfectly against the crook of your neck, which warms your heart like nothing else. she's your beloved, your safe harbor.

“you'll do well,” she answers, in a heartbeat. drags the vowels as she pronounces the words as if the mere thought of such thing happening was preposterous. “we all are. don’t worry, puppy. even tired, you’re still a beauty on stage”

no one could ever compare.

“what about you?” you pout, playfully poking her ribs to distract you both from the pointless question. the leader was adamant about not sharing her struggles with anyone, not even you: her girlfriend. her puppy. leader duties, she'd say, then shrug. all bullshit. “how have you been, 'rina? talk to me.”

karina doesn't stare back. instead, she positions herself between your legs, toying with the hem of your set with a dirty smirk. “i'm hungry.” she purrs too, lowering her face to your crotch. “must eat.”

you roll your eyes but still allow the oldest member to strip you from your panties without complaints. karina spreads your pussy lips to expose your perky clit before licking a long stripe that covers your entire sex. the moan that leaves your lips is much different than the cute, reserved idol image you work so hard to maintain.

under karina's glorious mouth, you're nothing but a piece of flesh, a disposable doll for her to use. whatever she has in mind, you'd let her.

“'rina…” you moan, nails carving in the back of her head as your fingers search for the ghost of her hair. karina'shaircut is still new to you, although she looks gorgeous nonetheless.

almost unconsciously, you rock your hips onto her face, looking for the slightest friction her nose provides, in slight bumps against your clit. upon your eagerness, karina backs away. her lips glow in the natural light, covered with your wetness. with dilated pupils and pointy canines, she looks gorgeous… and hungry indeed.

“what is it, puppy?” she murmurs, licking your inner thighs with all the time in the world. only after an infinity, when you're hot, wet, bothered, and coveted in her saliva, is that karina answers, in a sly, condescending tone. “you’re tired, right? you can sleep, baby.. I just want to have some fun for a little while… i'm so tired, y/n. but you cheer me up, as always. you'll let it, right? let unnie use you?”

your body reacts to the leader immediately. your muscles, once sore and rigid, relax under her coaxing. karina's kitten licks make it impossible to form any logical thoughts— all you think of is the way she handles your body like a delicate piece of art.

what you seek is not only pleasure but all of karina. her touches, her mouth, her praises. orgasms were worth nothing if she wasn't the one providing them to you. no one can pleasure you like herself, anyway.

judging from the way karina's hands grope your breasts, twisting and slapping your tits to her liking, she's well aware of how she's ruined you for everyone else.

“mhm.” your groggy answer comes just as karina's tongue invades your slit, searching for your core with all of her mouth. her movements were sloppy as if she were too tired to put much effort into it too. “unnie can use me as she wishes.”

there's no harm in resting for a bit, you decide. closing your eyes, you yawn, holding your arms above your head so you can arch your back and still be comfortable. the leader's warm breath on your cunt was a much-needed lullaby.

eventually, sleep overcame you. it was inevitable, with how karina used your clit as a lollipop, sucking your sensitive bud with lazy movements that made slurpy sounds echo through the quiet room. even unconscious, you jumped when karina gathered a good amount of saliva only to spit on your cunt, smearing on your entrance so you wouldn't hiss when her fingers made a home in your pleading slit.

you were already sore. surely you wouldn't mind if karina added to it.

“prettiest puppy.” she praised to herself, enjoying the way her fingers slid in so easily. the sight of your legs spread open as she thrust inside your cunt. “with the prettiest pussy, too.”

your pussy was irresistible: red, swollen, and begging to be used. karina couldn't help but spank it a bit, giggling at how you stirred.

were you awake, taking three of karina's long, lithe fingers without any gradual adjustment would include a great deal of whining— perhaps maybe a few tears, as you loved to put on a show for the girl. now, though, your body obediently answered to whatever karina wished to.

all hers to play with.

karina's thumb circled your clit, adding to the pleasure you felt even in your slumber, murmuring her name. she loved that; how needy you were at all times. she made sure to lick her fingers clean as soon as you came, watching as your pussy creamed as the aftermath of your orgasm.

how could someone look so angelical? the leader stole a kiss from your pouty lips before turning off the lights, spooning your smaller frame with a smile on her face. she wondered if you'd dream of her, despite the exhaustion etched on your bones.

the leader certainly would.

[revelboo]

cue getting picked up and carried like a damned puppy/kitten by a huge robo t-rex, eh?

Pretty much

Shiver Pt 2

IDW Grimlock x Reader

• Wheezing softly, aware of the keening, pitiful noises you’re making as you dangle by the back of your jacket and backpack from its jaws, swinging with the monster’s heavy steps. Honestly shocked that it had picked you up like a momma cat with a kitten and without a single, huge pointy denta so much as scraping your skin. Far from reassuring, you’re just sure it’s taking you somewhere to eat later.

• Can hear you making soft, frightened noises still. And he has no idea what to do with you. Let you go and you’ll just run screaming and bring back trouble when he just wants to be left alone? Doesn’t want to hurt you, but he nearly had trying to pick you up in his jaws. It’s so hard to focus and your panic stirs all sorts of instincts. Acting like prey. Because if you run, he’ll chase again. He can’t not. Venting to pull the scent of you, warm, alive, and afraid, deep into himself, he heads deeper into the woods, hunting for the dilapidated building he’d found by accident. Head lifting to place you on the roof when he finds it, he retreats as you scoot backwards, stopping as the surface creaks under you.

• It’s dropped you on the roof of that ratty old hunting cabin. Afraid to move as it stares at you, head turned sideways to see you better, it grumbles. Well, if it doesn’t kill you, falling through the rotten roof will. Or trying to jump down. What even is the thing? Your first thought, dinosaur, T-Rex isn’t quite right. It is, but it’s also a robot. A big, impossible monster that doesn’t seem to know what to do with you. Scooting to the edge of the roof, heart in your throat as the rotten shingles shift and sag under you, you look at the closest tree. Can you jump to it and climb down? No. Can you reach it without jumping? Sliding onto your hip, you stretch out a foot for a branch. Hear the snarl. “Don’t.” The rough word, more growl than an actual word freezes you. Giant, robot dinosaur can talk? Then, can it be reasoned with?

• “I just want down. Okay?” That voice is shockingly soft when it’s not screaming or hissing frightened nonsense. Head tipping to the other side, his optics narrow as you try to reach the branch of a nearby tree. “And I’ll pretend I never saw you, okay?” Why does that voice stroke over him, chaining the chaos in his processor so sweetly? Wants you to keep talking. Say anything. Moving closer, he uses his muzzle to push you away from the edge of the roof. Hears your frightened gasp and feels those tiny hands on him as he nudges you to safety. And then lingers, jaw against you. Studying you, organic and so strange.

• “Talk,” it growls, lip lifting to show off those awful, jagged points. And yeah, it wants you to talk? Absolutely. Its massive head is warm against your leg and side, every venting growl washing warm air over you as you just nervously ramble like your life depends on it. About your family, your job, your neighbors. Anything. And then yelping as its head shifts to knock you flat, jaw resting on top of you and it’s so heavy you can barely breathe. Making that low, grumbling sound that your stressed out brain decides sounds like purring. Wheezing, you keep up the chatter as it makes that rumbling, purring noise. Trying to think of a way to escape.

Previous

Next

[strnilolover]

Vet!Chris taking you to an animal café and he has a little bit of a hard time getting you to leave …

Chris glanced at his watch, then at you, sprawled across the floor with a calico cat purring in your lap. “Alright, baby,” he said softly, crouching down next to you. “We’ve been here for two hours. I think it’s time we head out.” he states.

You didn’t even look up at him. Your fingers scratched gently behind the cat’s ears, earning a contented trill from the feline. “Five more minutes,” you mumbled, clearly enraptured by the small sea of animals around you. A golden retriever had settled at your feet, while a tiny rabbit hopped curiously near your hand.

Chris sighed, trying to hide his smile. He’d taken you to the animal café as a way to unwind after your stressful week, but he didn’t anticipate just how hard it’d be to pull you away. Not that he blamed you — seeing you so happy, your face lit up with childlike wonder, made it impossible for him to be annoyed.

Still, he had a schedule to keep. “Sweetheart, the café closes in fifteen minutes. You know we can’t just move in, right?” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world — which it was.

You finally glanced up, your lower lip sticking out in a dramatic pout. “But Chris, look at them!” you gestured around at the assortment of animals, your voice full of longing. “They need love and cuddles! What if they miss me when I leave?” you whined, already feeling your chest tighten with the fact you had to leave them for the day.

He chuckled, reaching out to boop your nose gently. “I think they’ll survive, babe. Besides, don’t I give you enough cuddles at home?” You gave him a teasing look. “Not nearly as fluffy, though.”

Chris’ hand came up to his heart, like you had punched it. “Rude,” Chris shot back, feigning offense. “You’re hurting my feelings, baby.”

You giggled but stayed rooted in place, your hand now occupied by a curious kitten batting at your bracelet. Chris leaned back on his heels, watching you with an affectionate smile. “Okay, what if I make you a deal? We can come back next week, and I’ll buy you that strawberry boba you like on the way home. But only if we leave before the staff has to drag us out.”

You perked up at his offer, your lips twitching into a grin. “Promise?” he nodded his head, “I promise.” he said, placing a hand over his chest.

Reluctantly, you scooped up the calico cat one last time, giving it a soft kiss on its tiny nose. “Okay, but I’m holding you to that boba and next week’s visit.” you said, placing the kitty down as your hands reached out for Chris.

As he helped you to your feet, Chris wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Well come back as much as you like, i promise. And of course i wouldn’t go back on my word, you know that baby.” he said, walking toward the doors as you gave a quick smile and wave to the workers.

“Yeah, i know..” you muttered, still a little bummed that you had to leave. Chris noticed, pressing another kiss to your temple as he held the door open for you.

“You know i love you, yeah?” he said, pulling his keys out and unlocking the car as he opened the passenger door for you. And you looked at him, smiling.

“I know.” you said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lips before situating yourself in the seat.

© strnilolover

LITTLE VET CHRIS BLURB. MY SWEET BABY 🥹

[princessbrunette]

More rafeeee please help me get through my college apps with this

you’d been so fucking hyper today. rafe was stressed, he had a billion and two things on his mind — head reeling about business or his dad or his sisters or whatever bullshit decided to fly his way— and you had the audacity to be clinging onto his arm, barely dragging your little kitten heels to walk, mouth running constantly like an engine. he didn’t like being cruel to you, mainly because he wanted you to stay — but you were pushing it. if he clenched his jaw any harder he fears it might break.

come evening, he’s holding your hips down to the bed and rocking your shit. hard. you forget how huge he is most days when you’re beside him because you’re so used to it — it’s only when you’re under him and he’s covering you like a blanket, trapping you to the mattress that you appreciate it to its full extent. he pants, squinting at you as he holds himself up with one arm, stilling for a moment to talk. “this all it takes to calm you down? some dick? jesus christ…” you’re fucked out by this point, only meeting his glare with a gooey love struck expression and a fluttering cunt.

you swear he shakes his head as he continues the rhythm of the plap plap plap. “nothing to say now. that right?” his breath is warm and comforting on your skin, you don’t care about much else. “gotta do all the thinkin’ for the both of us don’t i?” it comes out more of a statement than a question, his rough hands jiggling at the fat of your hip.

“f-fuck…me…” you try, but it’s whiny and broken and unsure like you’ve never spoken before. he ticks his jaw, yanking you closer by the waist to get a better angle, his lips pursed and irritated.

“yeah, yeah. s’all you know isn’t it. fuck me.” he scoffs, pushing your knees up and getting back into his rhythm, beating away at your cervix. you mewl and clamp down hard. “that’s it, that’s the stuff.” he purs in that cruel nasally voice of his that only people with money can imitate.

“i don’t even wanna pull out, today.” he shrugs at you, still putting on a show despite being damn near breathless. his mouth turns downward when he shrugs in that careless way and you feel fat tears at the corner of each eye. maybe it’s because he’s mean, but you know primarily it’s because it feels so good. “i don’t think you deserve that respect right now. ‘cos where was that respect for me today, sweetheart? maybe it’ll put you in your fuckin’ place, finally.” he grits his teeth and speeds up. jesus, what a psycho.

“please.” you squeak.

“‘please’ as in do it or ‘please’ as in don’t. doesn’t matter what you want, but i’m curious.” his mouth gapes a little when he waits for your answer. he’s still cute in that boyish way even when he talks to you like this. red in the cheeks, curtained hair sticking to his forehead unevenly.

“i don’t know!” you cry out, going to cover your face or wipe your tears, whatever one comes first. he bats your hands away carelessly and leans forward again over you, pinning you down with his body weight and cantering his hips to grind into you.

“course you don’t.” he whispers, and he stops being mean after that. maybe he actually felt bad, or maybe your pussy’s just that good — wiping out his attitude completely.

[hitomisuzuya]

Scaramouche brainrot, surprise surprise. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunilligus. Degradation. Praise. Tongue piercing. Dacryphilia.

Sorry I have been quiet lately, I have been very very stressed. I hope this doesn't read as a complete and total mess.

Scaramouche sighed impatiently, playing with the ball of his tongue piercing on the roof of his mouth. He was horny. And your attention wasn't on him, but on a horror movie the two of you had started watching together.

"Oh, I think I've got it," You suddenly said. There was an interesting look on your face. On the one hand, you sounded so sure as you explained to him that you may have figured out the movie, but there was a look of self doubt in your eyes, like you were afraid to be wrong and second guessing yourself in a hesitant way.

Were you afraid of being wrong in front of him?

YES.

Scaramouche reached over and grabbed his phone of the bed next to him, and proceeded to spoil the movie for himself to see if you were right. Damn it, the pride that he felt when he looked up from his screen at you.

God you are so smart, so fucking smart. You were right. And you'd figured it out just from hearing one single sentence about 35 minutes into the movie.

Did you have any idea how smart you are?

"I'm horny," Scaramouche said, pressing the stop button on the remote.

"Scara, really?! Can it wait?" You asked in protest.

"No," He really couldn't. Just smelling you and being close enough to touch you turned him on. Your brilliant brain only added to his arousal.

Time to kill two birds with one stone. You could find out that you were right, and he could himself to licking and sucking on your cunt until you cried for him. The thoughts were making him unbelievably hard.

Grasping your ankle, he slid you onto your back, covering your mouth with his hand to keep you from protesting further. "You were right, I looked it up on my phone," He purred, his hand sliding up your skirt, pressing his fingers against your clit outside of your panties, "Good job, kitten. Good, smart girls deserve a reward, do they not?"

Suddenly, any focus on the movie melted away. Scaramouche always made your brain fuzzy. "I..I was?" Your words came out with a shaky sigh of pleasure behind his hand.

"Mhmm~," He pushed your skirt up, and hooked his fingers through your panties. "So wet, already," He marvelled as he took your panties off. He always enjoys seeing how fast he could turn you on.

Taking his hand off your mouth, Scaramouche batted your legs apart as he slotted himself between them. His tongue snaked out to lick a line up your cunt, groaning as he swirled his tongue around your clit.

The friction of his tongue piercing on your clit made it throb. It wouldn't be long before your shaky sighs bled into soft moans. His hands found your hips, holding your cunt against his mouth when you rocked your hips up.

"It doesn't take much to make you desperate, does it, slut?" Scaramouche latched his lips onto your clit, and sucked. Crying out, your hands found the back of his head.

His cock throbbed when you pushed his face into your cunt. Your legs trembled from the sudden, strong burst of stimulation. Gasping, your fingers tightened in his hair feeling his tongue piercing scrap and flick against your clit.

Taking his lips off of your clit, he flattened his tongue over it before sweeping it inside of you. His piercing scrapped slow over your sensitive walls, making you twitch and moan loudly in pleasure as you began to writhe on the bed.

Scaramouche vibrated a moan on your cunt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your swelling clit. "Desperation tastes so good on you," His eyes rolled closed in bliss, getting carried away, drunk on the taste of you.

You bucked your hips up into his mouth. Scaramouche was determined to fuck you dumb on his tongue for being so smart. You deserve it. And he got to taste you.

Win win if you ask him.

"Am I being a good girl? Am I?" You pleaded, whimpering when he started to suck on your clit again. You heard him laugh, feeling it on your clit as he sucked.

Releasing your clit with a soft, wet pop, he kitten licked his tongue on the throbbing nub. "Yes, you are being such a good slut," He praised, teasing his tongue piercing are your entrance. His thumbs skimmed on the inside of your thighs, making goosebumps dot on your skin.

Scaramouche swirled his tongue between your walls, rubbing and pinching your clit. He grinded his aching cock down against the mattress when your walls clamped around his tongue. He knew you were close, your fingernails digging into his scalp.

"That's it, my good whore. Cum all over my tongue," Scaramouche quivered in anticipation, rubbing your clit as he worked his tongue piercing on your cunt. He smirked seeing tears well in your eyes, your orgasm building up tighter and tighter. "You sound like such a shameless whore."

"Scara, I'm..I'm!-" You couldn't finish your sentence. Scaramouche pinched and rolled your clit a few more times between the pads of his fingers before you squirted on his tongue.

He happily lapped up your release, nursing his tongue on piercing on your clit to help you chase your high.

You could barely even think by the time Scaramouche took his mouth off your cunt. He moved up your body to kiss you just as sloppily as he had eaten you out. You were breathless when he pulled away. "I'm more entertaining than some silly movie, yes?" He asked, smirking down at your already fucked out expression.

He would watch the entire movie with you later. After he fucked you dumber on his cock that is.

[pigeonpeach]

Couldn’t come up with much so heres wholesome ideas of owning a cat with your genshin spouse

Diluc is clearly the favorite. His warmer body is a big plus in the eyes of your kitty. Its amusing to you because they’re the exact opposite, you joke that Diluc acts more like a cat (being reserved and typically grumpy in public) as opposed to your orange tabby with one braincell who will meow for any reason. Diluc is not one to complain, the kitty is a fine companion who’s greetings after a long day of fighting or buisness meetings is welcome while you’re slumbering away in bed waiting for him.

Neuvillette takes the title ‘cat dad’ perhaps more literally. You took in a orphaned little kitten, so young it had to be bottle fed and snuggled with a warm blanket 24/7. Neuvillette in that time became increasingly worried and dotting on the little kitten. Coming back with the best kitten formula and more blankets to swaddle them with. Now that the kitty is older he still seems to fret over them the way he might if it was his child. Your theory is that some primal instinct was activated upon seeing the mewling weak baby, subconsciously making him see it as his literal child. It was around when his heat cycle should’ve happened but the stress of the kitten delayed such. The kitty is also very fond of him. Often going to him to manipulate him for more food or treats. In bed the kitty often sleeps inbetween you too. Sometimes however when the kitty purrs, neuvillette will “purr” as well. According to him its what dragons do to soothe their offspring or mates. So whenever the kitty is frightened like during bath time he just starts purring on his own.

Pantalone’s cat was interesting for you. You loved cats but his was surprisingly well trained. A black fluffy cat who’s eyes were big. Frequently is said kitty a master of stealth, his clothes are its favorite hiding spot. Since pantalones wardrobe is predominately black the kitty blends in. Pantalone just whistles and the Kitty immediately jumps out and runs to him, apparently he’s trained it for such using treats. The kitty is very food motivated and will infact try to eat your or his food if given the chance. But its hard to resist such big beady eyes!

Jean isn’t too used to cats. She expected the kitty you brought home to be the quiet and aloof type but it turns out to be the most clingy and affectionate creature known to man. If it is not-being swaddled or held it lets out the most pathetic of meows that shatter her heart.

I’m sleepy now so gn

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I recently re-read thiccbuckybarnes's fics in the "the catboy bucky au" for the millionth time, lmao, and maybe I'm still just in the headspace of my latest fic, "Take It Like A Man" but, Jesus, as much as I love sweet, little twink kitten Bucky now I just can't stop thinking about beefy Buckitty.

Of course, thank you, @thiccbuckybarnesfic, for the inspiration. Your fics are always immaculate 🤌🏻🤌🏻

Anyway, I think you know what kind of beef I'm talking about...

I'm thinking about hybrid tomcat Bucky with fuckin' big, huge shoulders and a thick waist, monumentally meaty thighs, and an ass that'd make anyone's mouth water--doesn't matter if they're a dog or not, everyone wants to chase that pussy. His chocolate brown ears swivel atop his head, and his tail, the same color as his ears and hair, is often lashing. His body, too, is hairy from the stubble on his handsome jaw to the backs of his forearms to his purring chest to his stomach to, especially, his legs and ass.

This cat, Bucky, is a charmer when he wants to be but he's also a grumpy son of a bitch. He was a street cat for years after all (and he's got a nasty scar over his left shoulder to prove it), so he knows how to get what he wants, whether by swiping it himself or swindling it from the right person's hands, making handing it over feel like their idea rather than his.

Grumpy, Bucky doesn't like being woken from his midday naps, but, charmingly, his purring is more a low-level vibration, rumbling through his big chest and especially vibrating if Steve pets down the front of his throat, feeling it in his bulging Adam's apple. He's a big, handsome boy.

So...

Domesticated and (mostly) docile in his apartment with Steve, Bucky's first instincts tell him he's closer to grumpy than charmed when his afternoon nap--curled into as tight of a ball as he can be when he's got so much thick muscle packed onto his frame and he's resting on the short end of their oversized L-shaped couch--is interrupted by what at first-? He's not sure.

First, he cracks one eye open, unsure why he's not drifting anymore. His right ear twitches. Steve's not being too loud and waking him up. His stomach's not rumbling, so it isn't dinner time. Also, it's not like the sun has gone down, so it's definitely not dinner, it's still hot out, and--

Ah, there it is.

The heat.

Bucky had been snoozing comfortably in a pool of afternoon sunlight, but somewhere along the way, his body has been cooked, overheated, and now, he's sweating. His lip curls up.

Gross.

Bucky huffs, displeased by how his tight shirt is sticking to his back.

With a yawn so large it makes his jaw click, he scratches at the ends of his long-sleeve shirt until one of his nails hooks it and he can drag it up 'til the seams scream around the thickest part of his forearms. Yet, lifting his shirt is nowhere near enough to cool him down, and he ends up shifting and squirming, pawing at the elastic waistband of his sweatpants until he can kick them off, too. Stripping down leaves him in nothing but his painted-on boxer briefs and tight, rumbled henley.

Squirming like that, though, gives him a new problem. Or, an awareness of a problem new to his sleep-heavy mind. Judging by what his body's saying, he's had the problem for a while.

He's hard.

He's really fucking hard.

God, for as much as he's sweating--his muscled back damply sticking to the stretched, stressed fabric of his poor shirt he wriggled into this morning after rolling out of bed, his long hair looking like a nightmare--he's wetter between his legs. His cock, heavy and thick, pulsing like a cracked tooth still wedged into his jaw, is leaking into his underwear. That's not enough, though, his dick is also doing its damnest to burst through the fly at the front.

Christ.

Bucky's eyes roll back into his head, soaking in the sudden sensory input of his heat sneaking up on him like this. He can't think straight under the fever-like onslaught. Was he due for heat? Already? It feels like he just had it? Didn't he? Oof, it gets hard to know when he's supposed to be in season and not with how Steve fucks him so well, ruining him to the point that he's not sure he's not constantly in heat. Steve presses every button he didn't know he had, mashing them until Bucky just a shapeless lump of purring putty in his hands.

Either way, this is definitely heat.

He shivers despite the flaring temperature of his body, feeling the hair on his arms raise at the slightest sensation ghosting over him. In response, Bucky grunts, squirming again just to shiver harder instead of alleviating the tickly, hyper-awareness of his nerves.

Rolling more onto his side, his tail flicks wildly. The muscles at the small of his back are all too tight and twitchy. He can feel how his round asscheeks drag thickly against one another that much more when he's lazing on his side; the friction between his cheeks slick and smooth from a messy cocktail of slick dripping from his hole and the sweat running down his back in rivers.

He's burning up.

Without realizing it, Bucky's shifted again. He's on his front now. When'd that happen?

"Ohhh," he exhales and all the humid air rushing out of his lungs like he's been kicked. He practically paints the couch cushions in condensation because his breath is so hot and thick, building up while he napped.

His body is so hot. He's burning up. He's molten. He's on his front on their perfectly nice couch without knowing how he got there, not really, and he's ruining their fucking furniture 'cause he can't help it. His hands are nail-deep in the cushions, kneading them while his tail lashes, keeping itself out of the way from his soaked, clenching hole.

The rest of his body keeps adjusting, too, restless as his tale as he squirms and writhes and pushes and pulls. This way and that, going until his instincts can quiet, pleased with his position. Of course, he ends up with his legs spread wide, the muscles in his thick legs pulled taut and shaking despite their normal, coiled strength. His dick and balls want to hang heavy, heavy, heavily, but they're kept tight to his overwhelmed, overheated body by the pesky, clingy fabric of his boxer-briefs. His big, broad back is arched deeply. His shoulders are shifting and bulging as he works his arms underneath his face-down body, kneading the couch that much harder.

He's so, so ready to be mounted. Fuck, he's ready to be bred. That's what his body wants. That's what his instincts need.

"Steve," Bucky groans thickly. Then, in lack of an instantaneous response, he groans again, this time louder, "Steve!"

Ugh.

Fuckin', of course, trust Steve to wander too far to hear him the one time Bucky actually needs him. He needs that dick--needs his cum. He, he, he needs--

Bucky gets distracted by something, anything, comprehensible happening in his head by the shudder of arousal that rushes through him. (Who needs coherent thought when he's got ceaseless desire? Apparently, he doesn't.) He might be big and strong, but, Jesus, just put him in the right position, and his instincts take over. He can feel himself dripping. He can feel his hole clenching and unclenching around nothing. He needs something. Anything. Steve's hands on him--petting his ears, pulling his tail, stroking his flanks, jerking off his cock, fingering his achy hole, and all the rest of it, any kind of torture Steve feels like inflicting with those magic hands--sound better than anything.

He needs.

In his built chest, Bucky's heart thumps harder, beating like a fist against a drum. And. That's not a bad idea, actually. He's getting grumpy, left alone, needy and hard, so, the easiest thing he can do to alleviate any of it is press his head harder into the cushions, half nuzzling and half grinding his forehead against it in teeth-gritted frustration. He punches the cushions, pounding them. He wishes something, fucking anything would pound him.

"Steve!" He's closer to an actual mewl than he wants to admit.

God. Fuck. Fuck.

He wants to be fucked so bad.

Resolving to be left to his own devices while Steve fucks off to do whatever he's too busy doing to pay attention to Bucky, Bucky grumpily buries his burning, blushing face deep into the cushions--his dark hair eagerly takes it's place fanning across his face, fluttering over his open mouth with his heaving breaths. Paying the rest of his body no mind when his hole is so pleading and empty, Bucky leans onto his right arm to free his left. He shudders harder than he should in anticipation for damn well knowing what his own hands feel like on his body but... he can't wait, his heat is breathing down his neck so harshly, demanding now.

Pleasure now.

Or else.

With his unburdened left hand, Bucky unsteadily reaches back, finding the elastic of his boxer briefs waistband, accidentally, frustratingly flicking himself with it a few times, pulling a hiss from his own lips and quickly giving up entirely on having the motor function to simply pull his underwear down. Rather, he uses his retractable nails and his strength to rip them off.

"AH!"

Jerking into the tearing, eye-rolling friction of the fabric dragging across his hypersensitive, leaking dick, Bucky's hips have a mind of their own. He keeps grinding, squirming, and moving. He can't help it. He's shivering from tip to tail. That feeling of his tangled up, soaked boxers against his too-tight skin after waking up in heat and after finding himself all alone also after being a grumpier yet attention-seeking cat in general has Bucky scoring long scratches into the couch without realizing it. He's stressed. It's not his fault he scratched the cushions! If Steve were here, this wouldn't've happened. Instead, he, yeah, he would've, he could've--

God.

The now useless scrap of cloth falls between his spread-apart knees and leaves Bucky with wide-open access to his dripping, achy hole. He doesn't slide his fingers in right away. That would be too easy. So, he just slides the pads of his fingers through the mess, spreading it around from the base of his tail over his leaking hole to his perineum and the sensitive place where his heavy balls just start to pull at his skin. Without meaning to, he yowls.

Oh, god!

It feels good.

It feels so good.

His skin is glazed with slick like molten glass. He knows he's all pink and swollen and wet between his legs. He wants to fist his dick so bad, too, but he's only got one hand. If he wants to hold himself up like this--like his instincts desperately need him to--he can't use both hands.

Uselessly, his knees slide a little further apart, the tingling of rug-burn settling just under his skin, his hips rutting forward into nothing but thin air, the tip of his dick hitting his belly sharply, springing tears to his eyes and splattering pre-cum across his clenching abdomen. He wants to tear his hair out, he needs pleasure so fucking bad. He doesn't care about anything as frivolous as friction-burn to his knees.

Fuck that.

Fuck meee.

He mewls louder, half-shaping Steve's name after crying it out so many times before, it doesn't matter that he's not here, that he's left him like this, that he's such a bastard that he'd leave him when he's, he's--

He just wants him. He wants him all the time. He wants to scream Steve's name, have Steve's hands on him, have Steve's cock in him, Steve, Steve SteveSteveSteveSt--

"Buckyy? You home?" The sound of the front door shutting underscores Steve's voice and sounds a million times louder than normal with his heat-heightened senses. "Are you hiding from me, tomcat?" Steve's voice dances with humor, the nickname dripping off his tongue so easily, "you wanna play? You've been sleeping aaaall day, lazybones."

Bucky just groans, muffled into the cushions. He's relieved but still fucking desperate. If Steve doesn't get over here right now and whip his cock out of his fucking jeans to sink into him, balls-deep, he's gonna--he, he'll--he doesn't know what he's gonna do but something. He'll do something. Anything. He's going to go insane. He needs to be fucked. He needs to be mounted. He needs Steve to stick it in him. He needs to cum. He needs relief.

He's going insane.

"Steeeve," Bucky's voice is sharp and wailing like an alleycat engaged in a claw-heavy brawl. His big, heavy cock is twitching madly underneath him and the sound of Steve's heavy, rushing footsteps to come and check on him has never been sweeter.

"Oh." Steve stomps to a halt, "oh, kitty."

"Steve," he mewls, clawing the cushions that much more. They're gonna be shredded by the time they're done with round one.

[m-jelly]

How would it go if flirty Mike offered to fuck reader to sleep cause she’s stressed from college finals and she says yes?

Smart girl

Mike x fem!reader

Modern AU, uni life, couple, teasing, romance, Mike joking around, kissing, fluff, suggestive moments, suggestive words.

Mike sees that you're stressing about university finals, so he decides to take your mind off things and joke around by suggesting intimate things. You tell him off but have a bit of a laugh with him.

@mari-zs

Mike almost glided when he walked because of his long legs. He had finished for the day and was returning to the house he shared with you and his mates. He knew that most of your time was spent studying and ensuring all your essays were written and ready to be submitted.

He slipped inside the house, kicked his shoes off and raced upstairs. He softly smiled when he heard some relaxing music coming from the bedroom. When he slipped inside he saw you typing away with your brows knitted together.

"You look so sexy when you're so focused."

You glanced over at your boyfriend. "Welcome back, Mike. Lectures okay?"

He put his bag down and hummed. "Was okay, little kitten." He moved closer to you and slung his arms over your shoulders. "When is this due in?"

"Next week." You patted his arm. "I really gotta focus, okay? I want to get it done."

He bit the top of your ear. "Take a break. You're stressed."

"I am, but I want to get this done."

"How much left?"

You hummed. "I just need to sign it off with a paragraph or two. A conclusion basically, but I'm stumped."

He lightly rubbed your stomach. "Well, you should take a break and gather your thoughts. Taking a break is a good thing."

"I know, but if I don't get this done I will stress a lot more."

He chuckled a bit before licking your neck and biting. "I can take your mind off of stress."

You sighed. "I doubt it."

He moved his hands up and lightly touched your chest. "Well, there are a few ways to release stress. You can meditate, listen to gentle music, nap and even play games."

You leaned back against him. "I could, but my mind would keep returning to work."

He kissed your neck and then nipped your ear. "How about a sensual massage?"

You laughed. "I doubt you can stop yourself."

"I can be a good boy."

You snorted a laugh. "Sure, sure."

He released you, placed his hand on your desk and leaned. "You awful cocky for a stressed woman."

You smiled as he smirked at you, you knew he was playing. "You're awful mouthy for a tall, rough and tough horny man."

"Oh, so you figured I was horny."

You stood up and poked his chest. "When are you not horny."

He tilted his head. "You have a point." He eyed your body. "You know what? Why don't I fuck away the stress? When I'm deep inside you all you can think about is me and not some paper you have to do. You'll relax a lot and have a nice nap after."

You grabbed his shirt and yanked him close. "You better be a man of your word, Mike. I require a good hard screw."

He purred at you. "You know very well I'm a man of my word."

You walked backwards to the bed. "Prove it." You ran your finger down his chest. "Seduce me."

He lifted you up with ease making you gasp before laying you down on the bed. "Good girl."

You blushed a little. "No fair."

He ran his big hand slowly up your thigh. "I love you."

You whined a little. "Mike...I love you too." You kissed him and hummed happily. "Help me relax."

"Promise."

[gaydr0id]

Markus Has A Pretty Mouth

Connor sticks his fingers in it.

(requested by @julee92)

Words: 726

Rating: M (it's just finger sucking. thats the whole thing.)

Markus is perched on the edge of the bed, cradling his head in his hands. "It's been a long day," he sighs.

Connor is standing over him, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up. "Allow me to make it longer?" he propositions.

Once his sleeves are secure, Connor gently grabs Markus's chin and angles it up to look at him. Pale fingers trace the almost imperceptible lines that break up the freckled brown skin. Markus's appearance was designed to perfectly reflect his personality, both hard and soft in the most pleasing combination. Connor enjoys looking at him, touching him, knowing him.

"Well that depends," answers Markus. "Fun longer or stressful longer?"

"Fun longer," Connor confirms. "At least, that's my intention." Markus sighs with relief and arousal as a thumb parts his lips. "Whether I will succeed is yet to be seen." Pushing his thumb further into the android's mouth earns Connor a content hum. "You like that, kitten?"

Markus gives a subtle nod, careful not to disrupt the thumb inside of him.

Connor runs his silicone pad over plush lips and synthetic enamel. "Such a pretty mouth," he muses. He continues his exploration, prodding and caressing every inch of the cavity.

Connor. Even through direct communication Markus's voice is coated in lust. More. Please.

The thumb is promptly replaced by two fingers, long and slender, pushing all the way in. Markus lets out a soft moan before closing his lips around the digits. HIs mismatched eyes stare up at Connor as he sucks. He struggles to maintain the eye contact as he experiences more and more stimulation to his oral sensors. By the time Connor adds a third finger Markus's lids hang low, moisture welling beneath them.

Connor experiences no sensation from the exchange. That's not why he enjoys it. The sound alone is satisfaction enough. Increasingly wanton moans with a steady rhythm of soft wet noises. Delicious. Connor slips his pinky in, filling Markus's mouth with the full width of his hand. Thick lashes flutter open with surprise, allowing a single tear to overflow and run down his cheek. His program is so overwhelmed but this is exactly what Markus needs; the inability to process anything outside of this moment. Markus's jaw goes slack, eyes sliding closed, consumed by sensation. The pauses between his moans grow shorter until the sound becomes a steady purr.

Connor's fingers continuously thrust into the opening, flooding Markus's sensitive tongue with constant input. "Such a messy kitty," he remarks. Artificial saliva dribbles down Markus's chin and Connor's wrist in a constant stream, his overworked sensors producing an excess of the fluid.

"Look at me," Connor commands.

Markus tries to obey but his optic units won't focus. Too much of his processing power is occupied by the stimulation in his mouth. Connor pushes in further, forcing Markus's jaw wide as he reaches down his throat. The purring stops, breaking way to small choked noises. Generally blocked airways are not an issue for androids but the nature of this obstruction specifically interferes with Markus's voice box and ventilation system. He won't be able to take Connor's hand this deep for very long without serious malfunction.

Markus dismisses the warning notifications in his HUD, tears falling freely down his face. He trusts Connor to pull out when it becomes mechanically necessary but he wishes that time would never come. Having Connor inside him like this, an unignorable intrusion, inspires a sense of closeness almost akin to interfacing.

The inevitable moment comes and Connor removes his arm, leaving Markus wet and panting. He tries again to hold his lover's gaze and this time it's easier. A tall, slim waisted android comes into focus, brown eyes looking down at him in fascination.

Internal fans work overtime to cool Markus's overloaded circuits. There is a gentle sway to his posture as his systems regulate. Connor moves to sit on the bed, positioning Markus between his legs. One hand reaches under Markus's shirt, exploring his muscular frame, while the other returns to his mouth. Markus relaxes his weight, allowing Connor's body to prop him up. They sit like that for a while, Markus suckling on two of Connor's fingers with contentment.

"It would seem I have succeeded," notes Connor. His tone is matter of fact but there is a satisfied smile on his lips.

"I don't want to stop," murmurs Markus in reply.

"Then don't."

[angelbaby-fics]

Don't Bite

Word Count: 850

Warnings: Slight injury to the reader! Lots of comfort and fluff though of course!!

A/N: Aww this one's kinda similar to one I did for the tea party event but I've actually had this concept in my notes app for like 6 months! Hopefully posting this finally works & I hope you guys enjoy!! ❤️

It started off as a peaceful morning. Steve was in the kitchen, his turn to clean up after breakfast, and Bucky was starting up a load of laundry down the hall. You were splayed across the couch, watching cartoons and digesting your pancakes when Alpine sauntered over to the sofa and leapt up next to you. The cat took a big yawn before curling up halfway on your chest, purring and nuzzling you as you pet her silky white fur. Lost in the dancing colors on the tv screen, you aimlessly scratched behind her ears, down her back, across the length of her tail.

Too far!

In a flash of white, Alpine whipped her body around to face your offending hand and let off a warning hiss! Your precious pet suddenly transformed into a vicious predator, baring her fangs at you with fire in her eyes. Out of shock, you pulled your hand away, some of the fur still entwined within your fingers, and when you yanked back, Alpine sunk her teeth into your arm out of self defense. It wasn't too hard, just meant to admonish you like she would her own kitten, but her teeth were sharp enough to break your skin, and the sight of blood was enough to make you start screaming. 

Naturally, Steve and Bucky were abandoning their respective chores rushing to your side to comfort you in no time. Alpine had fled the scene at the sound of your screams, so it wasn't immediately apparent to them what was wrong; all they saw was their baby, distressed and injured. Hearts racing, they each tried in their own way to figure out what the problem was and solve it. Steve dried your tears, carefully petting your head and whispering words of comfort to you while Bucky protectively wrapped an arm around you, jaw clenched with stress as he scanned the room for what hurt you. 

When they were both certain the coast was clear, they moved you to the bathroom, Bucky holding you firmly against his chest. He kept you in his arms as he sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, pulling your legs up onto his lap as Steve rummaged through the cupboard for the family's first aid kit. He emerged with a clear tub, which he set on the bathroom counter and opened and began unpacking. Your arms were wrapped around Bucky's neck, and he felt you grip onto his t-shirt once you saw Steve pull out the bottle of antiseptic. 

"Nonononono," you mumbled into Bucky's shoulder, "no more ouchies please!"

He tightened his arms around you, soothingly rubbing your back. Both your daddies' hearts broke at your pleas. 

"I know, babydoll. It's just gonna last a second, okay?" Steve tried to reassure you, but your tears were starting up again.

"Shhh.... You're safe baby, it's okay," Bucky whispered into your ear. 

He reached up to untangle your injured hand from his shirt. Holding it softly in his right hand, he slowly brought your arm down from his neck and held it out towards Steve, who was looking at you with eyes like warm oceans. You met his gaze and nodded slightly before turning your face back into Bucky's chest, bracing yourself for the sting of the antiseptic. Maybe it was the gentleness that Steve applied the cotton on your skin, or maybe it was the hold Bucky had around you keeping you safe, but it didn't hurt nearly as badly as you thought it would. Next thing you knew, you were emerging from you Bucky cocoon to see Steve presenting you with multiple boxes of bandaids. 

"Alright, angel, you get to pick whichever kind you want!"

You looked between the boxes, some with cartoon characters, some with animals or flowers or rainbows or stars. You pointed towards your favorite, and Steve got to unwrapping it, kneeling down to your level to softly and sweetly stick the bandaid to your skin. Then he started clapping. 

"All done, baby! You did such a good job!" Steve cheered for you, smile beaming, but your eyes were drawn to something else.

Curious about her family all gathering in one room, Alpine was peering around the doorway of the bathroom. Usually she would bound right in, weaving herself between Bucky's legs or trying to get another treat out of Steve, but now she was unusually reserved. It was as if she knew that all this commotion, all this distress was because of her. Bucky leaned over to see where you were looking, Steve turned around, and instantly they solved the puzzle of what had happened to you. 

"Oh baby, did Alpine get you?"

You nodded, and whispered "Piney bite."

With a steely look, Steve walked over to the cat, bending down to look her in the eyes, and he shook a stern finger at her.

"Alpine, we don't bite our friends, do you understand?" He asked her, which made you start giggling; music to your daddies' ears.

"Its okay, Piney, I forgive you!"

And once again, it seemed like she understood, because with a little trill, she was trotting over to you, pressing her face up against you and starting to purr.

[lakesandquarries]

i started volunteering at a local cat lounge recently and holy shit i think this is what heaven would be for me. it's all kittens brought in from shelters and rescues and they just get to live in this space full of cat trees and comfy couches and soft blankets. there's all sorts of toys for them to play with and fun little hiding spots.

people can pay to come in for half an hour and just hang out with the kitties, and as a volunteer i could hypothetically come in every day from open to close and spend all day with the cats if i wanted. the actual "work" is just stuff like taking out litter, sweeping, giving cats meds, feeding them....it's all pretty simple and straightforward and then the rest of the time it's just talking to guests and making sure the cats are comfortable and safe. i get to infodump about cats to people and snuggle with soft purring kittens and encourage people to adopt them.

it's such a nice feeling to be doing a job that actually feels valuable and doesn't leave me exhausted and in pain by the end. there's no set schedule for when people need to come in, you just sign up for as many or as few shifts as you want, and it's not paid but we do get free merch apparently and volunteer credits which is probably useful for some high schoolers or something idk. at first i felt kinda suspicious about it being volunteer and not paid but the freedom over my schedule and the lack of any actual hard work makes it more understandable lmao. it's so low stress and literally 80% of it is just petting cats. i want to live here

[starlightguh]

Lovin’ Me Like Tequila Does

Word count: 1,596

Tags: Alcohol, dancing, slight cowboy Sylus

Summary: You were giving Sylus a bit of a cold shoulder because of a hard week of work, and decided to chase your woes away with your friends in a country bar.

A/N: After getting tequila as a food recommendation and Miranda Lambert’s song coming on my playlist, I felt compelled to write this. True experience for me is my line dancing teacher and I did a bikini bull riding contest at a country bar, so drew major inspiration from that since while I didn’t win, I pictured a laughing Sylus the whole time. Anyways, enjoy this quickie one shot!

He pissed me off.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Sylus dearly, he makes my heart flutter and loves me better than any other man will. But sometimes we’re like oil and water when it comes to our life styles.

Since he was the leader of Onychinus something his job got in the way of mine. A certain protocore had been going around and once he got his hands on it, he ended up trading it for some intel, which lead to the person he traded it to creating more wanders.

I had been busting my ass off in the no hunt zone for the past week, I was so pissed off at him when I found out I’ve been leaving him on read and giving the hardest cold shoulder I can.

Every crow I’ve seen I’ve been using as target practice to ensure he wasn’t spying on me. I currently couldn’t care if he was stalking me, he made me work so hard this week he deserves some tough love and he better work hard to earn my favor back.

My phone buzzed with another text, I glanced at the preview of the message.

Sweetie, please this is all a misunderstanding, I’m sorry.

Sorry doesn’t sweeten my tea or help my back pain asshole, I mentally tsked to myself as I closed my phone and finished styling my hair.

After killing what feels like a million wanderers on patrol, I got a day off. Tara and Simone had invited me out to a girls night at one of the bars in town. It was some country themed bar, Tara was really into westerns lately and wanted to check it out.

The bar had a girls night where the liquor was a bit cheaper, and I planned on getting drunk to chase away my woes. So I didn’t care what kinda place it was as long as the drinks were cheap.

I did do my best to try and fit the country theme as I put on daisy dukes and a cow print mini tank top. I hummed and ignored the constant buzzing of my phone as I got ready to look hot and have fun. Sylus can wait. I had earned a drunken night with my friends.

————————————-

When we walked into the dimly lit bar, it was mainly lit up with beer neon signs and fairy lights all around. I’m the middle of the place was a dance floor where the thunderous sound of cowboy boots stomped in rhythm to the beat of an unfamiliar upbeat country tune.

“This is awesome! Oh wow look at the dancers that looks so fun! Right?” Tara was over the moon at the atmosphere.

My body shifted to head toward the barstools in the further corner of the venue, “Yeah you should go dance with Simone, I’m going to drink.”

“Oh don’t be like that, you should dance with us at least once,” Simone looked at me with puppy eyes.

“Fine. But at least let me get drunk first?” I responded with a laugh.

Both girls nodded and suddenly we were cheers-ing margaritas at the bar. As soon as the sweet sting of tequila touched my lips did my aching body feel relaxed from the high strung stress this work week put me through.

Simone and Tara had ventured off to attempt to go learn a line dance while I stayed at the bar and chased this delicious buzz thrumming through my body.

“Two shots of Clase Azul for me and the lady please,” a deep voice purred behind me.

Too lost in licking the salt rim of my drink did I noticed the shot glass placed in front of me.

“Listen cowboy, I’m not interested-“ I stopped dead in my tracks to turn around and be met with Sylus in a black leather cowboy hat.

“Mmm? Sure bout’ that kitten?” Sylus winked at me with a mock southern drawl.

“What are you doing here?” I huffed, “You’re in time out with me.”

“Oh? Is that what this is?” Sylus chuckled a bit, “You know I can’t stay away from you long. Look sweetie, I didn’t mean for all of this to happen. Had I known that idiot was going to make more work for my precious darling, I would have never given it to him.”

I gave him a flat expression as I chugged the last of my cocktail. I placed my head in my hand and looked at him, “Hmm I knew deep down you didn’t mean to do it,” as his face brightened up, I leaned forward with a charged pissed off energy, “But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna punish you for putting me through hell. So suffer.”

I smirked and placed the shot he bought me between my teeth and tilted my head back to let the stinging burn warm my insides up and make me feel even more floaty.

Sylus just frowned at me and placed his hands on the bar to cage me in at my barstool. “Please let me make it up to you…How can I get back in your good graces?” There was an edge of desperation in his voice, it ignited fire that the tequila in my system was the fuel for.

“Hmm,” I smiled and leaned back against the bar more to look at him, my eyes shifted to the dance floor with a cowboy trying to twirl both a giddy Tara and a nervous Simone, “Get me drunk and ask me to dance. Let’s see if you got what it takes to make me relax.”

His red eyes widened in shock as he blinked down at me, “Is that all kitten?”

“For right now, yes. You do also owe me a back massage, but that’s a problem for later,” I chuckle. Next thing I know I take the shot glass from his hand and tilt my head back as I place the bottom of the shot glass between my teeth as I quirk my head back and point for him to take his drink.

Sylus chuckles as he leans his torso over me and his teeth grip the glass from me and he leans his head back to take the shot from my mouth. I laugh at the slight scrunch in his face at the burn of the liquor.

“Wanna go shot for shot?” I tease him.

“Absolutely not, you’re already a bit drunk I can tell.” He grabs my chin, “I only like a fair fight.”

“Fine by me, but just know I can probably out drink you.” I chuckle as Sylus flags down the bartender for another round.

By a third round of shots, I had his large calloused palms dragging me to the dance floor, and the other on the dip of my waist.

A slow but upbeat country song played in the background, and in my drunken haze I felt like no one else was on this dance floor. Sylus, the more sober between us, twirled me with ease. But I still managed to help add my own flare to twirls and dips as we danced.

Cause he don’t love me like tequila does, the song rang out as I had my dominant leg raised to my hip and slowly pointing out past the apex of his waist. Sylus let out a whistle at my flexibility as we continued our dance.

The yellow glow of the fairy lights in the bar seemed to blurr into a cinematic haze as my mind tried to focus on the burning red stare of Sylus’ gaze. As he dipped me at the end of the song and slowly lifted both of us back up, I playfully grabbed his cowboy hat and placed it on my head.

As Sylus put his hand on my waist and led me back to the bar he sensually whispered in my ear, “Sweetie…Do you know what it means to take a cowboys hat like that?”

I turn around and look at him with a confused look, “No? What are you talking about?”

As Sylus laughs and is about to answer my question, Tara comes up to me and grabs a hold of my hand uttering my name over and over in an excited squeak.

“Simone entered the bikini bull riding contest! Come on, let's go cheer!” Tara exclaimed as she all but dragged me to the adjourned room in the bar that had a mechanical bull shaking its patrons around like rag dolls.

“She what now?” I asked and turned around to shrug at the laughing figure of Sylus behind me. I took his hat and placed it back on his head.

“Sorry honey, I’m gonna have fun with my girls, I’ll put you out of timeout though and call you when I get home?” I asked with a pleading look. The last thing I wanted was more work if Tara or Simone caught on to his true identity thanks to my loose drunken tongue.

“Fine. But close out my tab, drinks are on me tonight sweetie. Be safe,” he placed his hat back on my head, “Don’t dance with anyone else. I’ll know if you do. And don’t take any more cowboy hats besides mine either, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be safe,” I rolled my eyes and hopped into his arms a bit as I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a deep kiss. His tongue entered my mouth, and as I explored his, I chased the high, the burn, and the bitterness of tequila on his tongue.

[v3nusxsky]

emily x ballerina!reader. whenever r’s upset, she uses ballet as a form of therapy and when emily comes home, she looks for reader and sees her in the home dance studio. emily knows that r uses ballet to take her mind off things and asks her what’s wrong. yk like all cutesy and shit<3 emily basically cheers her up xx - 🐦

My Ballerina

*Authors note~ this is such a cute idea I love it sm*

Trigger warnings~ possible unhealthy coping mechanisms???

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^^

For as long as you can remember, this is how you worked through your upset. As other got to know you and your skill set grew the more upset you were, the more complicated and fast paced your dancing became. It was as if you thought if you could dance hard enough and fast enough that all the pain and upset would just go away. It also happened to be something you enjoyed so it was easy to lose yourself the music.

When you were training for your future job. Teaching meant you had to stop competing professionally but you loved you had your own personal studio in your house. Although you weren't competing you didn't have to lose that freedom and expression you loved so much. Often, with your girlfriend out of town on cases you had time to complete all your grading and spend time in your studio.

On this particular day, you had a rough day. Your class seemed on top form for breaking every classroom rule and your paperwork was taking all the energy from your already exhausted mind. The fact you couldn't come hon me and snuggle your girlfriend, SSA Prentiss made everything worse. So you immediately changed into a sports bra and some dance shorts, grabbed your ballet shoes and some water before heading to your studio. Emily hadn't texted so you assumed it would be just you and your black kitten Sergio again tonight. Sergio was yours and Emily's kitten that you both got to keep you company when Emily was away, but Sergio preferred his other mom more than you these days so it was a bit of a backfired plan.

You lost count of the hours that had passed, you wanted to ace this new routine but try as you might you couldn't seem to get all the moves correct. Your spins were off and you kept coming out of point position. The frustration was evident as you chucked some more water dripping in sweat before going again. The mirrors around the room providing a 360 degree view.  If you weren't so swept up I'm your dance you would've noticed the raven heard agent watching you from the door way. Her eyes approvingly ran over your toned body. She missed you so much while she was a way and knowing you were this stressed sparked many other ideas you both could do together to destress.

"Hi angel" she murmured as your music faded out and your chest heaved trying to find a slower rhythm. "Em!" You squealed running in your point shoes to your girlfriend and jumping in her arms, "you're home! I missed you so much baby." Emily couldn't help but chuckle at you, truly you were adorable and she couldn't help but fall more and more in love with you with every passing day. "I am sweet girl, what's happened Angel?" She murmured with a sweet kiss to your lips.

There in her arms you explained your stressful day before she carried you upstairs and to your bedroom, where she took of your shoes and rubbed at your feet knowing how the shoes could hurt your feet if you'd been in them too long. Then you both changed into nightwear before snuggling up to one another. Emily explained the case and that everyone was okay and in one piece this time. During her explanation Serigo came to see his mom and was purring loudly, nuzzling his head onto Emily's face as she laughed, "Serge I'm trying to cuddle mom!" But here and now this was your family and no matter what time of day you were having you knew they would always be your shoulders to rely on.

Word count~ 705

[hitomisuzuya]

Scaramouche x fem!reader. I'm writing just to write cause I can't sleep. Smut. Scaramouche receiving. Ego stroking. Degradation. Some fluff at the end.

Scaramouche was one big ball of tension. He'd been that way for what seemed like days now, working so hard that he sometimes randomly fell asleep, slumped over the papers on his desk.

Whether he wanted to admit or not, but Scaramouche was tired. Exhausted. You'd tried coaxing him into coming to bed with you, even offering to stroke his hair until he fell asleep.

"Scara, please come to bed," You said, wrapping your arms around him from behind. "You need sleep."

"Go on without me. Maybe I'll come to bed in a few hours," was his mumbled response.

Sighing, you decided to add some, let's call it incentive. "You are so stressed, Scara," You purred in his ear, causing him to stiffen as your hands wandered over his chest, pinching one of his nipples before moving it down between his legs, "let me help you unwind, and relax."

You licked the shell of his ear, making him shiver as you stroked and palmed his cock outside of his shorts. "You work so hard, Scara. Nobody works harder than you do," You smirked next to his ear, your next words made him moan softly, and start to rut into your hand, "Not even Childe."

You rubbed your thumb against the tip of his cock, bringing precum to dampen his shorts. Scaramouche writhed a little in his chair when you gently pinched the head of his cock between your fingers.

"You are so strong, Scara. Nobody is stronger than you," Your fingers unbuttoned his shorts. Your next words were what made him snap, "not even the Electro Archon."

Groaning, Scaramouche grabbed your hand, yanking you around from behind his chair. "Get down on your knees, and keep talking, slut," He hissed, drinking in the sight of doing as you were told without a moments hesitation.

Taking out his cock, you swept your tongue out to swirl around the tip, laving it in his precum. "Everyone should fall at your feet, and worship you," You said, kitten licking his cock.

You glided your tongue up and down his length. Scaramouche's hand found your head, pushing it down to poke his cock against your lips. "Prove it, and worship me with your mouth like the whore you are for me."

Scaramouche let a tender action bleed through his aggressive lust. He gathered your hair away from your face, his knuckles stroking the back of your head lovingly.

You moaned, letting it vibrate along his cock as he pushed it into your mouth. His cock hit the back of your throat, making you choke a little. Your throat spasmed around his cock as you coughed. Scaramouche barely wasted it any time thrusting mindlessly into your mouth.

You bobbed your head as best you could to match his pace, sucking wetly until his cock throbbed in your mouth. You were driven to make this man cum hard down your throat, hard enough to leave him limp with satisfaction and pleasured exhaustion.

When you felt his cock the throb hardest in your mouth, you knew he was about to cum, so you said your next words, ones that were guaranteed to make him cum each time without fail.

You bobbed your head off of his cock, and looked right up into his eyes. Swirling your tongue around the tip, you said, "I love you, Scara."

Scaramouche couldn't help the loud moan that tore from his throat. He forced your mouth back down onto his cock, thrusting into your mouth, holding your head in place as his cum spilled into your mouth.

You swallowed obediently, sucking him off through his high, only stopping when he felt that he was spent. He was breathless and panting by the time you took his cock out of your mouth.

Wiping your mouth, you put his cock back in his shorts and stood up. He took your hand without a word, and followed you over to his bed. Curling up next to you, he was asleep within minutes. You smiled softly down at him, stroking his hair like you promised you would.

[badgerverse]

Whoops posted this early by accident lmao

Anyway, here's the Rarity and Capper fankids! Their description is under the cut.

I've been wanting to redesign these two for ages tbh. I was never that happy with Sparkler's colors and I had designed Snow Belle before I really figured out her personality. So I tweaked them a bit, to make Belle more sporty and spunky (also swapped out her back paws for hooves and her unicorn tail for a cat one) and gave Sparkler tuxedo coloring! And also a scarf, since she likes making clothes with her mom. 

Here's their updated bio info: 

Name: Sparkler Nickname: Sparky (Capper's really the only one who calls her this), Sparks    Age: Teenager  Pronouns: She/her  Parents: Capper Dapperpaws and Rarity    Bio: Rarity and Capper's adopted daughter! They spent quite a few arduous years filling out all the correct paperwork and doing interviews but they were finally able to adopt their daughter Sparkler as a very young kitten. Rarity was overwhelmed with joy at finally being able to hold her daughter, and spent the next few weeks bursting into happy tears every time Sparkler purred beside her. Sparkler discovered very early on that she preferred being a girl over a boy, as she was initially gendered, and her parents happily accepted her change in pronouns (Rarity took to it without any trouble, but Capper does tend to trip up now and then much to his embarrassment). Sparkler is spunky, cheerful, and down to earth; she enjoys sewing clothes with her mother, though she doesn't have as much interest in trying the outfits on herself. She and Rain Shower (Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash's son) have been friends ever since they started at Twilight's school, because she was never interested in fawning over him like many of the other students. She has a big unrequited crush on Bowtie, Pinkie and Cheese's son and Rarity's Canterlot assistant, that she enjoys sighing dramatically over a tall glass of milk at the end of the day. 

Name: Snow Belle  Nickname: Snow Ball, Belle Age: Child  Pronouns: She/her Parents: Capper Dapperpaws and Rarity Cutie Mark: Athletics  Bio: Capper and Rarity's little surprise kitten. They had no idea that they were biologically able to conceive, having briefly talked to a doctor who shot down any possibility of it happening. Yet low and behold when Sparkler was around 5, Rarity realized she was pregnant. It was a hard pregnancy and Snow Belle was born very fragile and weak, having to spend the first months of her life in the hospital. As she grew older though, she was actually very outdoorsy and athletic. She has a cheerful outward disposition, but suffers from pretty severe anxiety. She desperately wants to be accepted by everyone and tends to use her sports prowess as a way to endear herself to the other ponies at her school (though she just as often uses sports as comforting stress relief; can't have an anxiety attack about everyone hating you if you run so many laps you pass out). She loves sports of any kind, but has a particular fondness for tennis and gymnastics. Snow Belle's horn is very undersized and the only magic it can do is glow and pick up objects. It serves her well enough in sports so it's underpowered aspects don't bother her much. She's good friends Clover (Soarin and Applejack's youngest daughter), Silver, and Ruby (Gabi and Spike's kids) and they have a pretty tight nit group. She and Silver are especially close, with very clear crushes on each other. Ruby and Clover are disgusted with this. 

Relationships with each other: Sparkler and Snow Belle are very close, though Sparkler wasn't sure what to make of her at first. First she was worried that Snow Belle would take all of her parents attention away, but then she just never showed up! After quite some time in the hospital, Sparkler was finally allowed to visit her little sister and her first thought upon seeing the undersized kitten was "I would kill a man for you". Snow Belle idolizes her older sister, but sometimes to the point of not wanting to bother her with her fears and anxieties. 

Relationships with their parents: Their whole family unit is very close as a whole! Sparkler and Rarity are especially close, sharing a love of gossip and clothes making. Snow Belle and Capper love to race through Everfree Forest and he's very proud of her athletic abilities. Capper understands how his daughters sometimes feel like outsiders and does his best to support them in any way he can. Rarity can and will fight other parents at Parent Teacher meetings if they turn their noses up at her kids.