#no bites not even exploratory ones. nothing

[crabussy]

one of my favourite memories ever is going swimming in my undies in the dead of winter beneath a waterfall in the middle of a forest (I couldn't feel my legs at ALL) and having a small longfin eel tentatively swim up to me. upon me sticking my hand out for her to explore, she rubbed her head up against my hand and let me pet her like some kind of slippery long cat. wet wriggly beast I miss you so much.. we were best friends for one fleeting moment... I hope you find a cave so deep and comfortable that all the other eels are seething with envy

[kaijutegu]

So. Now that she's home and safe and gonna be ok, I can talk about this.

I almost lost Kaiju. Christmas Day. I was woken up by a phone call from Allison, who will be referred to a LOT in this story. Allison runs the pet store where I board Kaiju. She called to tell me that Kaiju had lost a LOT of blood. (As it turns out, half her blood volume. Humans die when we lose 40%, just so you know. She lost 50%.)

There were no visible injuries, and she had passed a bloody stool. Or rather, a blood clot with some poop in it. She continued to pass only blood when they put her in the bathtub to clean her up. If I'd taken her anywhere else, that... would have been it, probably.

But Allison is an actual miracle worker and knew an emergency vet who was open- on Christmas Day- and could see reptiles. As soon as she called me, she took her to the e vet, where they gave her fluids and oxygen and got her stable. They did some x rays and found... nothing.

In fact, the e vet actually complimented me on her bone density and how nice her toe joints look. Whatever this mysterious haemorrhage was, it was in the soft tissue.

The immediate thoughts were:

Impaction

Cancer invading an artery

Aneurism

Reproductive issues

However, the emergency vet couldn't figure it out, and my vet was out of the country. The e vet consulted with a lot of vets and it was decided she'd go into Chicago Exotics for care the next day- they were willing to see her on immediate notice. Allison drove her over and they did an ultrasound... and couldn't differentiate the mass they found.

So, exploratory surgery it was.

But... she didn't have enough blood for that. She wouldn't have survived... if Allison hadn't found blood for her. Tegu donors were found, the transfusion happened, and was completely successful.

And what the surgery found was completely unexpected. No cancer. No repro issues. No typical impaction.

Instead? Weird white things in her muscles and a partial impaction that seems to be related to a reduction in her ability to properly digest. There are two possible diagnoses at this point. One is visceral gout. This is very strange because in reptiles, articular gout basically always happens first, and her kidneys are fine.

The other option? Weird, potentially cross species parasite she picked up when she was in the Everglades. Something she's likely had all her life, something that was dormant until recently.

I'll know when the pathology report comes back in a week or so.

Anyways! She is doing very well. She is alert and interested in things. She has an incredible appetite, even though she can't have solid food yet. She's on three meds, including one I have to inject. At her three week recheck, we will add a fourth- either the correct anti-parasitic or a medication to improve kidney function, depending on the diagnosis. Currently she's in a hospital cage and she hates it- she can't have any substrate because of the stitches.

The vet says it should take about three months until she makes her full blood volume. Her pack cell count should be at 35%. It was at 7% on the 26th. But by the 28th, it was at 10%. She's gonna be ok. She's tough. My little girl is a fighter, always has been. You have to be scrappy to survive in the wild.

And throughout this entire experience, everybody has told me how lovely her personality is. Through the injections and cloacal probing and everything, she never bit or even tried to. The vet didn't think she even wanted to bite. Like it wasn't a question of wanting to bite and not being strong enough- it's just not something in her behavioural repertoire. She doesn't bite because she doesn't want to. Because even at her most scared, at her most painful, she's still Kaiju, the best tegu to ever live. Love is stored in the tegu, and it continues to be stored in the tegu. We have a long road ahead of us, but she's out of the woods and is going to be ok. We both are.

Also, consider this a MAJOR plug for Curious Creatures in Chicago. I'm never going to board my animals anywhere else.

[saintodo]

thots: vampire gojo + mouth inspection

♡ note: i wanna be weird w him :/

♡ word count: .5k

♡ tags: gender neutral reader, blood, vampire/human relationship, mouth inspection, suggestive

vampire gojo would happily allow you to inspect his mouth. he is quick to give into your demands, more amused than anything by the strange request. he’s willing to do most anything for his favorite human. gojo likes how you’re bold, so utterly unafraid of him even though he could easily overpower you if he desired to.

he’s pliant as he allows you to wrap one of your hands around the length of his neck- your palm brushing against the faded scars of his sire’s bite, sending a pleasant thrum through his system- and tilt his head back to your liking. gojo playfully opens his mouth, baring his teeth in a smile, which only earns him an eye roll from you. with two of your fingers around the curve of his jaw, you gently urge gojo to open his mouth wider for you, slackening his jaw. he obliges.

your movements are exploratory and your expression is curious as you run the tips of your fingers along the edges of his teeth. you're gentle, careful as you treat gojo with a level of care that he is unused to. it makes gojo want to capitalize all of you. he can easily admit that he's become greedy when it comes to you.

by the time you've reached his fangs, you've grown more confident and comfortable, your movements now fluid as you explore the inside of gojo's mouth. your eyes glint with something that gojo can't place as you press the pad of your pointer finger against the point of his canines, pressing and pressing until the skin breaks. a drop of blood lands on gojo’s tongue, and his mouth instanteously pools with saliva at the taste of your blood. gojo is no stranger to feeding on humans, but none of their blood has tasted quite as sweet or as addictive as yours.

gojo tries to swallow down the taste, but you prevent him from doing so. you push your thumb down on the flat of his tongue, not enough to cause his discomfort but enough for him to feel the pressure of it. he makes a sound in the back of his throat, high and whiny that you've gotten in the way of him tasting you.

you're merciful, lifting your thumb off of his tongue soon enough. gojo greedily swallows, unashamedly moaning at the taste of you. he can feel himself getting hard, his pants tightening to an almost uncomfortable degree in his pants. his throat bobs as you move your thumb to the plush of his lower lip, smearing a mix of his saliva and your blood against it.

for the first time since you started your inspection, you meet gojo’s eyes. your pupils are blown out, your irises nothing but a small ring of color. hunger and desire swirls in your gaze.

gojo is confident he looks the same.

with his hands around your waist, he eagerly tugs you closer until you're seated in his lap. you brace yourself, your hands flying to gojo's chest to steady yourself. through the material of his shirt, he can feel the stickiness of his saliva coating your fingers. your hips are flush with his own, and he knows you can feel his prominent arousal when you shift in his lap. gojo wraps a hand around your wrist, prompting you to push your fingers back into his mouth. you hiss when gojo nips at your fingertips, drawing the slightest amount of blood from you. he smiles around your fingers, his fangs bared.

now that he's gotten a taste of you, gojo wants more.

[vulpisnocturna]

Hi im so glad you’re back! can I request chrollo x reader overstimulation?

You certainly can, and I will absolutely comply! 😩 there is a shortage of Chrollo smut and I am here to serve 🫣

Masterlist

NSFW - MDNI

Warnings: overstimulation, dirty talk, dom Chrollo, possessiveness, rough sex, fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink

Word count: 2.9k

Pale fingers ghosted the skin of your arms, up and down, teasing and exploratory, and you could practically taste the smug smirk that adorned his well-defined lips, which brushed against your jaw and the column of your throat. You shivered as he breathed in the scent of your perfume mingled with the natural smell of your skin, and he let out a soft sigh.

‘Relax for me, mh? You are so tense… do I make you nervous? Does your blood rush to your stomach? Is your breath shallow and uneven? Do your legs feel weak? Is your heart hammering in your throat? Is your lower stomach so very tight and hot, my little darling? Your skin is pebbled with goosebumps, and you are shivering so much…’ he murmured against your ear, his voice a little raspy, husky and suggestive, warming you up like a bottle of vodka thrown into a fireplace. You swallowed as Chrollo’s lips trailed back to the junction between your neck and your shoulder, kissing gently, languidly.

‘I crave you’ his voice was sin itself as his lips brushed the shell of your ear, and his fingers curled around your hips possessively, greedily, squeezing over the fabric of your skirt. You bit down on your lower lip, your eyelids fluttering close. His bangs tickled your cheek, and his lips pressed against your jaw, your neck, his tongue licking the column of your throat erotically.

You let out a soft, breathy moan, which earned you a pull against his body and his teeth nibbling and pulling gently at your skin.

‘Chrollo…’ you breathed. He stroked your hair, grabbing it and pulling it slightly, exposing your sensitive neck to his greedy lips.

He smiled down at you, his dove grey eyes drinking in your expression like it was liquid gold.

‘I like that look on your face. Such a needy girl’ he purred, voice barely above a whisper, and before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, hands flat above your head, his mouth ravaging yours. Your mind went haywire, and you moaned against his lips. Chrollo’s cologne filled your nostrils, his body pressed against yours, his tongue traced your bottom lip and his teeth tormented it. That was the thing about someone like Chrollo. Calm, controlled people like him usually needed an outlet. That outlet happened to be you.

He gripped and kneaded your ass with his free hand, his tongue caressing yours with a passion that pierced through you. Calm people like Chrollo could become a blazing inferno of passion in the blink of an eye.

His hand trailed up to your throat, fingers pressing on the sides, reducing the blood flow to your head, making you dizzy. You let his feral passion consume and ignite you, stoking the lust and longing inside you until nothing was on your mind except him.

‘I can feel your heart thumping against my fingers. Darling… you look so helpless. So desperate. But I can make you even more desperate. And I think I have a craving that begs to be satisfied’ he said in a low, raspy voice, one that was rich and reverberated in your ears. He picked you up and tossed you on the bed, making quick work of tearing your clothes off you, his gaze dark and filled with hunger and possessiveness. You moaned and arched your back as Chrollo’s tongue traced your nipple and his fingers pinched the other one, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. His hand trailed to your thigh, and he squeezed and dug his fingers in the soft flesh, groaning against your nipple as he sucked it eagerly. You squirmed and let out a shameful mewl, which seemed to delight him to no end, because he chuckled and sucked a possessive love bite on the swell of your breasts.

Your fingers tangled in his raven hair, tugging and pulling, but Chrollo did not mind when you got a little rough. In fact, he loved every second of it. Chrollo was an eager lover, a greedy one that preyed and feasted on desperation. He sought to drain every drop of ecstasy you had to give, and his satisfaction was derived from your pleading and knowing he was the one driving you to the brink of insanity.

Chrollo’s fingers reached their destination fairly quickly, driven by his intense desire, but you were already sopping wet. He chuckled, giving you a grin that was a mixture between a boyish smile and the taunting smirk of a fallen angel.

‘Oh dear, it seems my little darling is quite desperate already. You are so wet for me’ he crooned, the pads of his fingers tracing patterns on your sensitive skin. Your breath faltered, and you whimpered, your hips twitching, your cheeks warming up at the taunting remark.

‘Chrollo- stop teasing’ you breathed, though his teasing was arousing too. He let out a soft scoff.

‘Why would I do that? It is so easy to rile you up. So easy… to make you weak with desire. And I love it’ he said, his tongue dipping to lick your ribcage as his middle finger started tracing torturous circles around your puffy clit that had you moaning and writhing. He pushed your hips down with a hand and pinned your legs with his body.

‘Ah- ah, ah. I am not finished with you yet. You’ll take what I give you, like a good girl’ he said in his rich, mellow voice, going back to tongue and toy with your nipples. You moaned more, helplessly trying to move against his fingers, be it towards him or away from him. You weren’t too sure.

Your hands cradled his head, and he smiled, dipping two fingers inside you and curling them in a blissful motion. You arched your back, letting a sinful moan pour out of your lips.

‘That’s it, that’s my good girl. Keep moaning for me, darling’ he praised, his voice hot and thick with desire as he started moving his fingers in and out, skilfully rubbing all the right places. You moaned, dragging him back up for a heated kiss that left you breathless. He kept going, kissing your neck and sucking on it harshly.

‘I am going to mark your skin, so everyone knows you are mine. Mine to hold. Mine to touch. Mine to tease. Mine to kiss. Mine to pleasure. Mine to keep’ he groaned against your ear, and you squirmed, the movement of your hips against his fingers getting increasingly more eager.

‘Ch-Chrollo… oh God-‘ you moaned, and he smirked, looking at your face, self-satisfaction written plainly on his features. His fingers worked faster and deeper, making your mouth fall open in a gasp as the coil in your lower stomach wound tighter and tighter and more intense, until you were clinging to him and kissing him sloppily as you came with a breathy moan.

Chrollo gave a satisfied groan and started kissing your neck again, teeth nipping at your collarbones, hands soothing and massaging your thighs, his mouth trailing down your torso. You squirmed when he spread your legs and started kissing your thighs, your face hot, your breath short from your recent orgasm.

‘Chrollo, wait… still sensitive’ you muttered. He gave a low, soft laugh against the skin of your inner thigh, before biting and sucking it, pinning you down when you tried to scoot away a little.

‘My poor little darling. She is so very sensitive’ he crooned, and pinned one of your thighs to the bed, flinging the other on his shoulder and blowing cold air on your clit. You let out an undignified whimper, which he promptly ignored to drag the flat of his tongue on your labia from bottom to top, tensing the tip of his tongue up as he reached your clit to flick it. You let out a loud moan, your fingers disappearing in the inky strands of his hair, and Chrollo groaned, fingers digging in the pliable flesh of your thighs as though he loathed to give you the space to squirm away from his face. His tongue twirled around your clit, pressing against it, uncaring of your whining and desperate strangled moans. His fingers glided to your cunt too, slowly pushing inside you, and he curled them, sucking on your clit at the same time. Your body twitched, and you cried out, writhing underneath him as the pain and pleasure mingled in an addictive mix. You were soon reduced to a panting, moaning mess, your hips rolling against his face and attempting to pull away from it at the same time, your chest heaving, your eyes closed as he continued to pleasure and torment you like his life depended on it.

He pulled back a little to give a smouldering, indulgent look, seeming to revel in the way your body begged him to continue even more than your voice did. He then got back down, increasing the intensity even more, sucking, flicking, curling, licking and spitting on your clit, leaving you no time nor chance to form coherent thoughts as he coaxed another orgasm out of you, one that felt almost mind-numbing. He pulled back as your aftershocks quelled down, and smirked at you, wiping his wet chin with the back of his hand and sucking his fingers clean. You were a heap of limbs strewn on the bed, unable to move, your eyes half-lidded, your swollen lips parted, your body reduced to a ragdoll.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he murmured, brushing your hair away from your face in a sudden tender gesture.

You watched him as he took his clothes off, tossing his shirt on the floor, revealing his toned arms, lean figure and pale, smooth skin. His trousers and boxers came off next, and his fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking it a few times as he looked at you before he lowered himself above you and started rubbing it along your wet labia. You let out a little whimper, and he groaned in the crook of your neck, nibbling at your earlobe and kissing your throat.

He pushed himself inside you, stretching your walls with his thick cock, driving himself inside you until the tip of his shaft was kissing your cervix. Your body arched, your nails raking across his smooth shoulder blades, your voice coming out in a loud, whorish moan at the feeling of fullness and warmth that pooled in your core. Chrollo moaned softly, his head thrown back to the ceiling, his fingers gripping your thigh and hip.

‘Ahh… you take me so well. So tight and wet for me’ he breathed in a thick, husky voice, his hand trailing down to your ass as you hooked your legs around his slim hips. You clung to him, a litany of whimpering, whining sounds leaving your lips as Chrollo started snapping his hips against you, the upward tilt of his cock making you cry with ecstasy and desperation. Your hips rolled against his, the pleasure soon overcoming the pain and sensitivity from your recent orgasm. He groaned, getting rougher and rougher by the minute, his grey eyes, usually so calm and detached, filled with animalistic desires and a feral, possessive thirst for pleasure and control. Chrollo grunted, spreading your legs and locking them apart and bent in the air with his elbows on the inside of your knees. You cried out, your head thrashing side to side as he started to trace circles around your clit with his middle finger, pinning you in place as he watched the scene with decadent, predatory lust, his eyes darting from the apex of your thighs to your face. You whined, tossing your head side to side and trying to push your legs back together.

‘Ahh! Too much~ too much-‘ you cried out, writhing and trembling, still struggling to close your legs. It felt too intense like this, like the pressure would make you explode, like there were hot pincers in your gut.

‘Mmm~ don’t you dare move, my little darling. You’re going to take all of me, and you are going to cum for me, aren’t you? Like a good little girl should’ he breathed, his voice rough and erotic.

‘Chrollo- I can’t- too much- I need…’ you moaned incoherently, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as Chrollo gave deep, rhythmic thrusts that pressed right against that sweet spot inside you that made you tremble and scream.

‘You can, you’re doing so well. Keep moaning and cum for me, sweetheart. I just want one more. One more for me’ he said, whilst you made desperate noises as the knot in your stomach got tighter and tighter.

‘Ahh! Please!’ you cried out, not even sure what the hell you were asking for. Was it release? Was it mercy? Was it more pleasure?

‘That’s it, there’s a good little girl… don’t you dare move an inch, my love. You are going to cum for me, or I will make you endure this for hours until you do’ he said, his voice raspy, his finger still circling your clit, his hips slamming against you, his face contorted in pleasure, satisfaction and pure, unadulterated lust.

‘Yes- yes! Chrollo- fuck… I need- I can’t…’ you screamed, your whole body shivering, your hips jerking, you cunt squeezing and throbbing around him. He let out a strangled, blissful moan as you pulsed and clamped around him with your intense climax, which left your ears ringing, your legs shaking and your vision flashing for a few seconds. He growled, gripping your legs and moving relentlessly, showing no signs or intentions of stopping or slowing down.

‘Chrollo!’ you whined, squirming and trying to get away, your overstimulated clit aching. Every sensation was more intense and overwhelming than the last, until all your nerve endings felt on fire.

‘Louder! Say my name louder’ he demanded, his eyes darkening with untamed hunger.

‘Chrollo, please!’ you cried out, tears brimming in the corners of your half-lidded eyes, your fingers clawing at the sheets, your body rocking back and forth underneath him.

‘Good girl’ he muttered, and leaned over your ear, ‘your body belongs to me. Understood? You… are mine’

You nodded frantically, pitifully, lost in the throes of passion and his control. Chrollo grinned, starting to lose his cool, becoming more and more intense the closer he got to his own climax.

‘Say it, sweetheart’ he instructed, his voice gruff. You whined.

‘’m yours, Chrollo’ you moaned. Chrollo smiled slightly, pleasure and satisfaction etched on his face.

‘That’s my good little slut’ he crooned, and your teeth sank in your bottom lip as he continued to pound you into the mattress. The knot in your stomach was there once again, despite not believing you were even capable of having another orgasm, it looked as though Chrollo was determined to push you further, to make you lose yourself in his arms. And you were. Your mind was empty, your body was ablaze with desire and pleasure, your eyes were bleary and fucked out.

‘Beg me to cum inside you. Beg me for it’ he said harshly, voice low and demanding. You could hardly even think with the intensity of the sensations travelling through your body.

‘Oh? Is my pretty little slut too fucked out to answer me? Would you like me to stop, then? Should I leave you like this?’ he taunted, thrusting roughly and deeply inside you, pounding against your cervix. You let out a loud, desperate scream.

‘No! Please, Chrollo- Cum inside me, please- please don’t stop…’ you pleaded, and he looked as though your words had sent him spiralling into a maelstrom of passion, satisfaction, pleasure and predatory lust.

‘Such a desperate, needy girl. Such a good girl’ he purred, his pale skin glowing with a silver gleam in the moonlight streaming from the window, his dark eyebrows furrowed, grey eyes narrowed.

You sobbed, writhing, the hot, tight pressure in your lower stomach becoming so strong you couldn’t think, couldn’t form words, couldn’t do anything but feel. You clamped and throbbed around him, and Chrollo let out a curse, becoming almost feral.

‘Yes, yes! That’s it. Fuck, that feels so… so tight- so good. Good girl. Cum for me. You can do it… oh God- I’m close’ he groaned, and you tossed your head side to side, your whole body trembling and shivering in his grasp, your vision blurring, tears staining your temples as a white-hot, mind-numbing orgasm washed through you like a tidal wave, making your whole body tense up. Chrollo moaned against the skin of your throat, biting down harsher than he probably meant to, his hips stuttering as he came inside you, your name a prayer of passion and reverence on his lips.

He swallowed, slumping on top of you, releasing the tight, bruising hold on your legs and catching his breath. Your own breath was laboured and shallow, your skin feverish, your eyes closed as you basked in the afterglow of one of the most intense experiences of your life.

Chrollo rolled over to your side after a minute or two, drawing patterns on your ribcage. He gave you a boyish smile, a rare sight of unadulterated warmth in his grey eyes.

‘You are incredible’ he murmured, planting a kiss on your shoulder. He cradled you in his arms, soothing you with his fingers grazing your spine.

‘You are mine and I am yours’ you murmured, nuzzling his chest. He sighed in contentment, repeating the phrase to you, like your own personal “I love you”.

[steddie-there]

More Steve and Eddie and Paul the rabbit

Owning a rabbit isn't easy, not by a long shot. There's the waste cleanup, for one thing, though that's typical of any pet. The litter box training. The special food and need to make sure absolutely nothing plastic even gets near where Paul could possibly reach it. All to be expected, really.

But then there's the pet proofing their apartment needs. The corner guards on the walls. The covers for wires. The removal of anything low enough for Paul to hop up on and begin an exploratory journey into the high places of their home.

And the noise. Steve wasn't aware a creature that supposedly only makes sound when injured could be quite so loud. But many mornings, he and Eddie wake to the rattling of hutch walls and the skittering sound of a hay tin being dumped over.

"Your rabbit is being a loud little bastard again," Eddie mumbles.

"My rabbit? Thought he was our rabbit," Steve mutters jokingly, trying to ignore Paul's breakfast demands for just a few more minutes at least. Eddie is curled around his back and he's too dang comfortable to move just yet.

"Before 8 am, he's your rabbit," Eddie retorts and Steve, laughing, finally slides out of bed to get Paul his pellets and required head pets.

And rabbits bite. Dogs, cats - people expect them to bite occasionally. But rabbits? Soft, sweet, quiet, furry little rabbits? Not so much, Steve thinks, sucking on the two viscious little marks on his knuckle Paul had left when he decided he'd had enough of being held.

Eddie pulls Steve's hand over to look at the bite. "Quite a little beast," he chuckles as he applies some antibiotic ointment and a bandaid.

"Takes after you, I guess," Steve smirks back.

Eddie howls with laughter.

But then there are the moments when Paul stretches out and flops against Steve's leg on the couch, trusting and warm. Or when he closes his eyes in bliss as Steve gently scratches his head. Or when he falls asleep in Steve's lap while he's curled up against Eddie on the couch, watching a movie.

Or like now, when Eddie is stretched out across the floor on his stomach, nose to nose with the curious fluff ball, trying not to giggle while Paul's quivering sniffs tickle his nose. This, Steve thinks, laughing out loud at the picture the two of them make, this is worth it. Yeah. This is worth everything.

***

The original Paul post

Also @nitro502-the-sequel I hope you don't mind that your comment found its way into this one! It was just 🤌

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

ao3: And Rabbit Makes Three

[justabigoldnerd]

Kiss Game

Thank you so much @the-golden-comet for the tag!!!!

Rules: post a kiss from any of your OCs/WIPs. Any kiss, from familial, pecks on the cheek, kisses on the forehead, to full blown steamy make-outs

I don't have any kisses in WIPs, so I'm gonna post kisses from works I've posted!! I'll do one fic every Friday 🥰

First up is "It Takes Three To Tango", the first fic I ever wrote for this fandom!!!

1.

She took his other hand in hers and lifted it. He flinched, which made them both smile. Instead of slapping him, she laced their fingers together. "Illya," she breathed, her eyes falling to his lips. Taking a breath to steel his nerves and kill the self doubt threatening to bubble up, he dropped her hand and placed his palm on the small of her back. Finally, finally, after months of almost's and yearning, Illya dipped his head and pressed a slow, exploratory kiss to Gaby's lips. She sighed into his mouth and kissed him back with fervor. Her hands slid up his chest and locked behind his neck, her thumbs resting on his cheeks. Suddenly, she broke the kiss with a gasp and put their foreheads together. "Oh, Illya, liebling…." she whispered, before biting her lip in a mischievous smile. Without warning, Gaby shoved him backwards. Caught off guard, he stumbled, and fell back over the arm of the couch. He hadn't even noticed that she'd turned them. Those two facts clicked into place in his mind, and his emotions quickly changed from confused, to aroused. Giggling at her triumph, Gaby crawled on top of him, cradling his face and kissing him hungrily. Illya's eyes fluttered closed and his hands found her waist.

2.

Illya didn't look up, but fired off a slew of Russian curses at him. "They used five vials. Took five vials to get me to say anything to them. I only said little bit. Nothing important." "We know, liebling. Everything's fine," Gaby shot Solo an encouraging look before returning to Illya to comfort him. She pulled his hands away from his face and held them in hers before pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. Solo looked away, choosing to focus on hiding his wound.

3.

That shut them up long enough for Gaby to grab the med-kit and sew the bullet hole shut. "Be honest with each other, please." "Fine. I was scared to death when you went missing, Illya. Do you remember what you told me in the car?" Illya's eyes darted away and his ears turned pink, but he nodded. "Was it true?" He paused, then nodded again. "Well, then, you'll have to forgive me. This is my first time doing this." "Doing what-" Illya didn't have time to finish his sentence. Solo grabbed a fistfull of his turtleneck and pulled him down, connecting their mouths together in a crash of teeth and tongues. Illya's lips were chapped, and tasted of blood, but he kissed like his life depended on it. His hands cautiously found Solo's face and held it gently. They had to part for breath, and Illya whispered against his mouth, "You have soft lips, Cowboy. Use lots of chapstick?"  "More than you, apparently," Solo kissed him again through a laugh that made him wince.

No pressure tagging @pippinoftheshire @too-young-to-fall-in-love @times-up-alone-tonight @heytheredeann @cha-melodius

@huggiebird @nicijones @thattripleabattery @falling-into-peril and anyone else who wants to join!!!

[headstrongblake]

[ CAR ] for our muses to have car sex while it rains / grant & o / @thewholecrew

the puttering of the rain against the outside of the car soothes octavia while her head leans atop grant's shoulder with her arm snaked behind his head. fingers mindlessly trace up and down his jawline, dipping down along his neck as her fingers graze against his skin. here all her racing thoughts slow. this was needed and although octavia didn't voice it, she was thankful he'd suggested they come out here after her first narcotics anonymous meeting. it's far enough away from the outside world that for miles it's just them and the rain. for once, it's peaceful.

her head nuzzled against his cheek, breathing him in before she pressed soft kisses there. her kisses begin as a small exploratory for distraction. to extinguish the needling buzz in the back of her mind. but then her head lifted properly while the fingers that grazed along his neck, shifted up to his cheek, directing his face to her. "hey..." she murmured as she captured his lips, leaning into him from the passenger seat.

it's only a matter of time before she's plucked from her seat beside him and instead happily settles herself to straddle his lap. fingers twist in his hair as she feels the warmth of his hands resting on her hips, teasing the bare skin as her shirt separates from the hem of her skirt. eyelashes flutter at the touch, and the warm press of his lips against her neck is a magnetic force drawing her attention. he always does that too easily. one caress from him and the whole world melts away, everything else quiets and grows still. everything except her heart. it quickens at his touch. the pad of his thumbs brushed against her hip bone, tightening against her skin and the rhythm inside her chest changed. the rain outside becomes nothing more than background noise she doesn't hear as heat grows between her thighs.

emerald hues fix on his vibrant gaze and while her movements might be measured reaching down to lower his seat back carefully, there is no concealment of the lust and need coursing through her. teeth sink into his bottom lip earning her those incredible sounds he makes as she gives a gentle tug at the sensitive skin. he's rewarded accordingly by her leaning down to deliver several caresses and biting kisses across his skin. "i need you," she whispered breathlessly into his ear. there is an unparalleled sweetness to indulging a craving. & this one...she's allowed to have and he makes it all the more sweeter to give in.

the way his hands tighten, the fabric of her skirt ruffling as his hands encroached further beneath is indicative that his own patience is wearing just as thin as hers. their combined hunger making her writher against him, moaning another soft, "i need you." lips part slightly and a deep inhale is drawn in as his forehead nodded against hers. her gaze lingers for several attentive moments even after the unspoken permission has been granted while anticipation blooms in her veins. she measures the equal desperation, the energy vibrating out of them both as her fingers trailed down from his hair to the front of his chest. lower and lower until they find the cool button of his pants. octavia soaks in his desire as if it's feeding her. in a way, she supposed it is. she likes being needed. especially now when she's felt so helpless while healing. being desperately needed and desired in such a way that could render grant so eager feels like an even better high. one she'd much rather bask in. perhaps that, more than any physical sensation, is what she finds most pleasurable in these moments. she's wanted.

[katie-knightoc]

“Oh man. That guy is so far gone on you, Kate,” Luca teased, busting her eyeing the very pert backside of the man who just kissed her breathless as he walked away. “He’s so, so gone.”

She flushed, ducking her head to hide the burn across her cheeks with her dark hair. “I don’t know,” she said with a self-conscious laugh. In spite of it, her chest filled with warmth because Luca wasn’t far wrong. If Rourke really wasn’t as fond of her as he seemed, then he was one hell of an actor. “Maybe.”

Luca met her gaze, eyebrows up and grinning madly.

“Oh, like you can talk,” she huffed back pointedly, trying to shift the conversation back to Luca’s favourite subject in an effort to hide her own embarassment. “Ryan made goo goo eyes at you all night at dinner.”

“That’s because I was giving him a handie under the table,” Luca quipped back dismissively. They both laughed even as Kate’s cheeks went pinker at the thought. Luca’s lack of shame lately was sometimes surprising. Kate didn’t recall him having such an open attitude to sex, but she supposed the pilot had a lot to do with that.

It seemed there was something in the water here, or maybe it was just the magnetic pull of the O’Riain bloodline that was changing her opinions too. Because lately, she had looked at herself in the mirror and seen a woman she didn’t recognize. Someone who was bruised beautifully with perfectly shaped love bites, swollen lips and a heavy lidded gaze because she had been turned completely boneless by a pair of incredibly talented hands.

Now, she was missing those hands. Already craving his lips. Rourke had slipped between her legs early in the morning - long before the sky turned orange – to claim her. Shifting her legs over his shoulders and huffing warm breath and soft kisses along her core until he had drawn her out of sleep. And then, when she had been fully awake, he’d started on her in earnest- lapping, sucking, fucking her with his tongue until she could barely take anymore and she pulled him up to find his face shiny and wet from her juices.

It was filthy but she loved to grip his hair and kiss the taste of herself from his mouth.

“Katie,” he had groaned and the sound was music to her ears. “My girl...”

“I need you,” she’d whispered back and that was all it took for Rourke to snap and lose all control. He’d fucked her so hard she saw stars, her throat became hoarse from screaming and her body ached from trying to force him as deep as possible. Luca had whispered to her once, eyes alight over cups of Devonshire tea in the local village teahouse during one of their exploratory ventures beyond the estate, of how it felt like he couldn’t ever get enough, couldn’t ever feel close enough. Like he could crack open Ryan’s chest and crawl inside and he would still crave more, that he was restless and unsettled unless they were joined.

She understood that need now. That fierce desire to meld into the other person. She wanted it so badly with Rourke and every step he took away from her felt like physical pain.

She was in love with him. That much was clear. Even not knowing what he did, what he was other than a vague unease when she saw him slip into the dark and return with bruised knuckles and blood on his boots. That alone should terrify her but she knew she was nothing but safe in his arms.

She looked towards the door he had disappeared through and Luca gave her a knowing smirk.

“Go,” he said easily. “If you hurry, you’ll catch him before he makes it out of the gate.”

Kate didn’t need to be told twice.

[xenophiliarp]

“I did with my wife,” though he neglected to say that it was before their wedding and it was because they were so excited and more than a little drunk that it happened, then was his first time�� he’d had a fairly exploratory event when he was even younger than that, but he never told a soul about it.

He didn’t exactly want to be talking about his wife right now. In a few hours from now she’d call him, asking what to have the maid prep him for dinner and talk about his day—nothing was unhealthy about their relationship, they talked regularly, she’d gotten into modeling with a group of her friends and often sent him videos and photos of her shoots before they were published.

“Hold me close,” he said, unintentionally quoting verbiage from one of his favorite songs. One that unfortunately didn't make the cut at his wedding, which he wasn't clearly still upset about. He enforced a bit of control onto her, bringing her arms up to his shoulders, encouraging her to deepen the closeness with a bit of guidance. Once that was done, his hands traveled back down her sides, so enticingly mapping every muscle and vein in her skin. He kissed her so thirstily, not knowing where the need came from exactly, maybe years of crushing on her but not even knowing it bubbled up and started coming out as steam exiting his engines.

After that he lost his hands for a moment, his underwear had been pushed down, and there was a bit of a thump when his cock came down and smacked lightly against her taut belly.

Oh god, it was gonna be a tight fit wasn't it?. But for some reason the thought had him biting his lip. No, wait--that was her lip he'd pulled between his teeth, he gasped quickly before releasing her from his hold, denying himself the urge of splitting her lip with a more owning bite. Instead he picked back up, mashing his lips against hers, hungering for her taste, for more of that sweetness onto his tongue. He didn't even notice how he'd begun grinding so haphazardly against her, with absolutely no concern if either of them had any protection for the following proceedings. Just humping against the petite woman on his desk as if it was the most normal of things to be doing after works hours, that long cock giving her an idea with how much space was gonna be needed to accommodate its entirety. @utterxdesires

There was a sound so faint she almost missed it, before figuring it must be his phone resting on top of the desk. There was sudden fear that it might be his wife, or maybe he had something on his agenda she forgot about... but that never happened to her. Whoever it was, Hector ignored it and she was quick to go back into this moment.

Her blue hues met his once he looked up, her heart was beating so fast and Noelle was certain her face was flushing red. Yet he continued to pepper her skin with kisses, and actually give attention to her tits. Whenever a guy wanted to insult her, calling her flat chested was a go to thing to say. And it made Noelle believe no man ever would find her attractive. But he was proving her wrong with how he took a handful, pressed against her soft skin, making her moan in pleasure.

A gasp followed as his lips attached to her tit, and her head lulled back with a moan when he kissed the other, his words were making her excitement grow. She liked how he called her, little Noelle, and she did feel so little being this close to his large, muscular frame. Her eyes closed the moment his lips found hers, her back arched more into him as she felt his hands traveling down her arms and fingers wrapping around the wrists. "All yours..."she said in a whisper against his lips, she was all his the moment he accepted to fulfil her wish and asked her to undress in front of him.

As he pressed more into her, Noelle let out a slightly louder moan, she was almost certain what she could feel was his hard cock rubbing against her. She couldn't help herself but glance down between them, her panties glistened a bit with the wetness sipping through them, and even though he wasn't undressed fully yet, she could see the outline of his length. It made her feel a tad bit anxious as she looked up at him. "Have you... uh, did you take someones virginity before?"she asked timidly, not knowing much on what to expect aside from what she has heard from her girl friends. @xenophiliarp

[witch-hazels-musings]

dream a little dream

warning -> 18+ ns-fw (consensual multiple partners, touching,

LIYUE: childe - xiao - zhongli (together)

characters x fm!reader | anthology | mondstadt (fm) | inazuma (fm)

synopsis: you have a spicy dream about your upcoming commission team, oops

If you ever wondered what it was like to stand between a harbinger, an ex-archon, and an adeptus at the same time, their eyes observing you with such an intensity you could melt from it - think no more because you were right in the middle of it. 

It was a battle in and of itself. The way Childe commanded your attention even when you were in the arms of another, the power of Zhongli as he held you securely and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until you were putty, and Xiao in all his seriousness gave until he could sense you were fulfilled. 

For now, it was Childe who had you where he wanted you. His chest pressing against your back, hands sprawled across your stomach and thighs in order to keep them open. You were slipping but he never let you fall. “Look at our sweet little y/n, she can’t even think straight.” Childe lifted your chin and turned you until his teeth could graze your earlobe. “Adorable.” He growled and you exhaled a moan. 

Zhongli was working himself free of his gloves, his hands flexing and eyes focused even though he could clearly hear the sounds you continued to make at Childe’s touch. If he wasn’t groping your breasts or playing with your clit, he was teasing your sanity every time he opened his mouth. 

“It seems no one else can satisfy you, as it should be.” He slipped a finger into you, and even though you tried to close your legs to add more pressure, his knees kept them apart as he adjusted and widened his stance in the chair. 

Suddenly, Xiao’s hand gripped Childe’s and in one fluid motion he got onto his knees and began to lap at your ache with his tongue. The new sensation made you scream and Childe praised you for how lewd your sounds were. 

“Tartaglia,” Zhongli’s voice spilled around you but it was so difficult to focus on it. He made his way to the three of you, eyes drifting down to Xiao in between your legs, Childe’s wide grin as he cupped your breasts and let them fill up his hands. Was he jealous or serious, you couldn’t tell but you knew the touch of his thumb as he ran it across your gaping mouth, you knew it’s taste as he slipped it inside and allowed you to run your tongue over it. “Have you never been taught how to treat a woman?” He asked, voice husky and rich. 

“I’m sure she’s doing just fine, Morax.” The bite between the two of them made you whine or maybe that was the feeling of Xiao as he slipped a digit inside of your ache. His pace picked up and with the addition of his finger you felt yourself slipping again. In a desperate attempt to stay up, you grabbed onto Zhongli’s arm which he held out for you. 

“Such vulgarity. Don’t worry, I will take care of everything.” Zhongli removed his thumb from your mouth and covered your lips with his own. His heated, deep kisses combined with Childe’s exploratory hands and Xiao’s mouth sent your mind reeling until you couldn’t handle anything else. 

--- 

Lurching up, you let out a startled cry before tumbling into shaky, desperate breaths. You could feel the sweat roll down your back and the throb in your stomach told you how needy you’d become but no amount of shifting or adjusting made it go away. 

Plopping back onto the bed, you felt your lungs burn from your heated breaths and every time you closed your eyes the images came flooding back. Your hand drifted to your stomach and you felt Xiao, they brushed against your breasts and you shivered because of Childe, they covered your mouth and you tasted Zhongli. It was all so much and you desperately needed to wash it away. 

Throwing the covers off you, you gathered up your things and headed toward the bathroom only to remember that you weren’t alone and this wasn’t your house. 

“Ah, Y/N, good morning.” Zhongli’s voice caught your attention just behind the hallway. You gripped your towel and clothes tighter around your chest and peeked around to take in the scene. Zhongli and Childe were seated at the table, breakfast spread across the surface and tea waiting to be drunk. Xiao, on the other hand, was sitting in the open window, his leg dangling but eyes focused on you. 

“I made us breakfast. Can’t go fighting things on an empty stomach.” Childe beamed, hand pushing a plate your way.

“I -- um ...” You were flustered, unsure how to respond because no matter how many times you blinked or shook your head the images of them touching you, kissing you, pleasing you wouldn't go away. 

“Are you feeling unwell?” Zhongli asked and you noticed Xiao slip off the windowsill at his comment. 

“Is it the karmic debt?” Xiao mumbled, glancing at Zhongli who shook his head. It appeared they could tell you were off, but were in no immediate danger. 

“No-no. Nothing like that I just ...” Childe made his way toward you and you backed into the sharp corner only to let out a startled yelp. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Childe asked, as he reached to help hold you steady. His fingertips brushed your skin and you jumped at the contact. If he lingered too long he may notice how hot your body was. If you let him any closer you might explode right there. 

“I just need a shower. Give - um, give me a few and I’ll be ready!” You blurted out and stumbled your way into the bathroom. Quickly, you dropped your items on the floor, turned on the shower and stepped inside not caring that you still had clothes on. 

[doctorelleth]

First Time Sex with Donatello would include:

Part Three: Donnie's Turn

-Oh my God. Okay. Here’s the thing about Donnie. He has the capacity to be so very submissive.

-But if you give him any indication that you want to be dominated, he will hold nothing back.

-You tell him what you like and he will go for it.

-Everything is new to him. He will want to take it slowly.

-Even his kisses are so soft.

-Fingertips starting at your cheek bones and slowly moving downward, stopping just above your hips.

-It is the dictionary definition of ‘caressing’.

-Donnie doesn’t grope. At least not this time. He’s used to taking apart and reassembling small electronics. He knows how to trace you, memorizing your lines and edges. He touches with his fingertips more than his palms.

-If you lean into his touch, he will continue more of whatever he’s doing.

-If you decide to dominate him-

-You place your hands on his chest, he backsteps until he hits the bed. He sits down and you straddle his his legs.

-”Touch me,” you say. He doesn’t realized how shaky his breath is, how much is Adam’s apple is bobbing, how wide his eyes are.

-Donnie presses his fingers into your thighs.

-”Can I take off your glasses?” His eyes do this startled flutter thing when he realizes you‘re speaking.

-”...okay,” You place them on the side table.

-This is when the heaving making out starts.

-Donnie copies everything you do.

-You kiss and bite at his neck. He does the same a moment later. You slide his suspenders off his shoulders. He pushes your shirt up. Anything you initiate, he’s happy to follow through.

-When you start grinding you’re treated to the reminder that he is a warrior with strong muscular hands. He grips your bottom HARD.

-And when he’s inside of you, he will be staring up at you dreamily, like your existence is a miracle.

-If you want him to dominate you-

-”Show me want you want,” you whisper, leaning into him.

-Donnie takes you by the hand, leading you to the bed. He has you sit down next to him as his kisses you.

-Slow, exploratory kisses.

-He gives gentle nudges to your shoulders until you lay down.

-”Scoot up.” When you’re in the center of the bed, he covers your body with his.

-Every part of you is eventually either kisses or touched with curious examining fingertips.

-He loves watching your skin flush. Learning just how far down your torso your blushing goes is a memory that stays with him forever.

-When you’ve lost all your clothes, that the only time he stops.

-”Can I taste you?” His eyes are so wide. All his focus is on you.

-When you indicate yes, he holds you open with his thumbs and licks in long slow strokes.

-Neither of you expect him to enjoy it so much.

-Might even be a little aggressive after a few minutes.

-Donnie has the kind of mind where when he focuses his attention on something, he forgets about everything else. That is how he eats you out.

-Expect to cum twice.

-When he finally stops, with you panting and out of breath, he kisses you long and slow. One hand is in your hair, the other holding your face with his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

-”Can I make love to you?” he breaths, hoisting you into his lap.

-For the first three minutes he’s very slow and gentle.

-This is new for you both and he’s careful to make sure you fit together properly.

-But once you’re settled, once he knows that this feels good for you both, he won’t hold back.

-He presses you into the mattress and and you can do nothing but hold on.

-Ultimately, sex with Donatello is shocking exhausting

-It would be wise to take up cardio. Or at least a protein shake with extra amino acids.

[acapelladitty]

sandman prompt: corinthian getting his mouth-eyes played with

Well...well...well...what a truly wretched ask! I absolutely love it 😈👀💦

His shirt long discarded in a messy heap on the floor, the hands which glided along Corinthian's chest only served to make the slight tan of his skin appear deeper due to their unnatural pallor.

The owner of those hands, his beloved creator, appeared engrossed in the simple task as he mapped out the flawless torso which he had carved from the void.

"I debated making you much broader." Dream confessed, his words low and intimate. "I thought to give you a physicality which would strike fear into their hearts."

The soft weight of Dream atop his lap as his back pressed roughly against the comfortable high-backed chair left an almost rapturous sensation in his chest which made cognitive thought a little difficult as Corinthian swallowed heavily.

"And why didn't you?"

"I though this was much more appealing. The sleekness of a serpent with a coiled strength which could move with the quick strike of a dagger. And these-"

Soft digits, the skin as cool and unyielding as marble, trailed up his chest and past his jaw to press their fingertips into his temple. Dream's focus, now having shifted to the sets of teeth which passed for his sight, caused a fresh shudder of arousal to wrack his body as the faint appraisals continued.

"These were a labour of love. So much time dedicated to making each set as perfect as could be. Beautiful yet uncanny."

Not quite trusting his voice, Corinthian took a moment to clear his throat before whispering his response, the single word coming out with reverence.

"Nightmarish."

"My little dream. A beautiful nightmare."

Gasping in surprise as cool thumbs brushed against his eyelids, his hands were quick to tighten their grip across Dream's hips and press into the silken shirt there.

"Open."

And, without hesitation, his mouths followed the instruction as a wicked heat pooled within his gut.

Exploratory fingers pressed against his teeth for only a moment before pushing forward; trailing across the ridges of his teeth as the sides of the fingers brushed against the skin within his mouths.

His chest perfectly still, the intimacy of the act stoked the familiar arousal which his makers touch ignite within the Corinthian's groin and he felt himself harden even further as Dream shifted in his lap.

It was a torment which he knew the other man enjoyed, no matter how much he would deny the accusation, and he often wondered just how much his creator viewed him as little more than a toy to play with for his own amusement.

The thought did nothing to lessen the pressure of his slacks against his groin as his cock twitched in response to the concept.

As his fingers continued their familiar exploration of his creation, a serene expression graced Dream's features. Only the slightest hint of lust gave his eyes a slightly darker appearance than usual and the intensity of his gaze made Corinthian's throat dry.

A darker part of his mind, one which he regularly indulged without too much consideration, whispered at him to bite down. To punish the fingers which would trust him so brazenly, even if he knew he held no power in this little exchange.

"I can feel you doing that, you know." Breathing the words out as he ignored the violent impulse, Corinthian rolled his hips against Dream's weight, alerting him to the affect he was having. "Every slight touch is electric."

"Of course you can." Dream replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And I will see fit to reward you for your submission once I am finished."

With the promise of satisfaction at hand, Corinthian flexed his hands against the thin hips and allowed a lecherous smile to curl the very edges of his lips.

Also posted to AO3

[thefvrious]

Steve sighs, melting into the kiss as he tilts his head into Eddie’s hand. It’s not that he doesn’t like it when people touch his hair — quite the opposite. He loves it, but in an almost erotic way, so that’s why Robin and Dustin aren’t allowed to touch it. Eddie, though? Oh, he can run his fingers through those locks, massage Steve’s scalp, pull his hair — nothing is off limits.

There are a million and one little things, Steve has realized, that he admires about Eddie. Yeah, maybe he was a little jealous when the tater tots started hanging around Munson more, but that was ‘cause Eddie was more their speed. A few moments around his enigmatic, magnetic, charismatic personality, and Steve was on his knees, too, even if it took him a minute to admit it to himself; even longer to say it out loud. There’s no more time to waste, though. Eddie wants him, too, and they’re young and stupid enough, have been through enough to not give a shit about the repercussions.

Steve looks at him with his pupils blown wide with desire, studies Eddie’s face, and feels the register of arousal in thrumming through his body. He wants to take and take and take as much as Eddie is willing to give. He wants to drown in it. The sound of Eddie’s giggle has him grinning like a fool, lips pink and shining; eyes glimmering. Yeah, I like him.

He groans appreciatively at the weight of Eddie in his lap, the warmth between his legs causing friction to Steve’s growing arousal enough to get him really going. If he was half-cocked before, now he’s fully at attention, and he’s not even embarrassed about it. Eddie should know how badly Steve wants him, should feel desired. His tongue is heavy, greedy, exploratory as it makes its way into Eddie’s mouth, one hand at the back of the other boy’s head as the other holds onto Eddie’s jaw as if to open his mouth to varying degrees to better accept what Steve is giving him. Of the two, no doubt, Steve has got to have more experience. Right?

Steve tilts his head again so that Eddie’s fingers have no choice but to cascade into his hair and he hums his pleasure, pushes his hips up just a little bit, and kisses Eddie’s jaw all while the other is mumbling a swear. “I want you.” He says, his lips against Eddie’s throat now, kissing hungrily, leaving little bites on milk white flesh.

Eddie melts a little against him, one of his hands moving to hold Steve's face. His fingertips inch forward into his hairline but are hesitant at proceeding since he's seen how Steve snaps at Robin and Dustin when they try to touch his hair, and as much as Eddie longs to do the same he'd much rather keep a good thing going than push his luck. Because Steve is smiling against his lips and making the most delicious noises Eddie's ever heard.

He wants this. Steve wants him. And as much as Eddie knows he's worth more than what those who scrutinize him think he never thought he'd be enough for someone like Steve. He's the kind of guy that risks his own safety to protect others at every turn. Sure, Eddie's own self sacrifice had been a much larger and dramatic display. But the same could be said with most things about Eddie. And that was only because he had no choice. When Steve has a choice he chooses to put others first. Even the weird metalhead who was hiding fro the police.

Eddie's panting when Steve pulls away, his breath completely taken away from just the simplest touches Steve provides. As has always been the case. So kissing him leaves him a little lightheaded. Especially when his hands are lost in Eddie's hair, holding on tight. He lets out a small laugh- god Steve has him fucking giggling, he's pathetic- but doesn't have time to say much more before Steve is kissing him again. He wants more.

Eddie tries inching closer to him, but their sides are already pressed together. There's nowhere else for Eddie to go. Until he sits up a little and moves to sit in Steve's lap. His heart threatens to pound out of his chest with anxiety that he's taking things too far, moving too fast, coming on too strong. But the noise he'd let out when Eddie first kissed him makes him think otherwise. And Eddie's only more sure he isn't making a mistake when he settles into his new spot because either his pocket knife is doing something wild in his pocket or Steve's started to get a little hard just from kissing him.

Eddie lets out a noise of his own at this, small and whiney sounding and entirely involuntary. While one hand remains in it's spot near Steve's hair the other rests on his chest, just over his heart that beats against Eddie's palm. "Fuck, Steve," he pants out into his mouth. It's all almost too good to be true.

[krethes]

@wolfstarmicrofic July, Day Two: sugar high

Just... expect a lot of firefighter content. Mildly NSFW.

Follow-up to: Fruit

He's going to crash at some point. It's inevitable, he knows, the impending end of this sugar high, this...honeymoon period of new relationship bliss, but he can't be bothered by worrying about the future. Not when the kisses on his neck are so sweet, and the honey-gold of Lupin's eyes warm him from the inside out, and the gossamer strands of emotion thread with the molten lust in his veins at the simplest touch.

So he'll crash and burn. He's used to it. He'll get back up. But he wants to savor this joyride, this illicit make-out in the gear storage room that he hopes will lead to something more in the bunks in a few minutes. They're running the aid car tonight, they might not even be needed, they could have hours of uninterrupted, decadent bliss while the rest of the team is on a call.

"Oh fuck me," Sirius chokes out when those saccharine kisses turn to exploratory bites, Lupin's fingers pulling the collar of his shirt aside to get to hidden, warm skin.

Lupin rumbles a laugh and rolls their hips together, sending lightning up his spine and fanning the flames in his blood. "We're on call."

Sirius has never wanted to leave work early, but the way Lupin doesn't say "no" has him chomping at the bit. "We're always on call."

"Mmm," Lupin hums, and spends the next several seconds sucking a bruise into Sirius's collarbone. Sirius tries to maintain some semblance of control by grabbing Lupin's arse through his trousers and squeezing, but somehow that just makes his own knees weak. "I want the first time we fuck to be in a bed."

First time. Not only time. "There's a b-"

"My bed," Lupin corrects, and he draws back to look at Sirius properly. His lips are swollen and wet, slick with spit, but the erotic image is tempered by the creep of uncertainty in his amber eyes. "If that's okay. If you just want a quick...thing, that's fine. I just...I really, um... I like you. More than I thought. And I'd like to actually date you."

Sirius's mind blanks. There's nothing left except for the spinning admission of "I like you", and he knows he should say something, but he can't even remember how language works, let alone form words that actually make sense.

"Ah, fuck," Lupin swears, and buries his face against Sirius's neck. "Forget I said anything. This is great. We can fuck if you want."

"No!"

Lupin jerks back like he's been burned, his face turning scarlet and then paling as he removes his hands from Sirius's body. "Fuck, sorry, this is a bad-"

"No," Sirius says, much more gently this time, because the fear of hurting Lupin has overwhelmed his overwhelm. "No." He takes Lupin's face in his hands and draws him back in for a long, slow kiss. "Your bed sounds great, whenever we make it there."

Lupin's terror dissolves into palpable relief, and he drags Sirius close against his body in a crushing hug. "Get breakfast with me after shift? Just us?"

Sirius usually stuffs his face with as many pancakes as he can possibly eat at the IHOP down the street with James and Lily after the long sleepless shifts, but he figures they won't kill each other if he misses just one... "Yeah," he says breathlessly. "Yeah."

He still might crash and burn, but it's like Lupin said all those weeks ago: they're firefighters. He's built to resist it, drawn to this heat like a moth to the flame, as obsessed with fire as much as he respects it, and he's not unaware of the danger. Of the damage it can do. Lupin could do the same, those golden eyes of his, his tawny hair like tongues of flame that could destroy him in an instant, consume him in his path without a second thought, but Sirius has never been afraid to burn.

[vacantgodling]

hatred

wip: requiem for the monochrome / paramour ; just in that universe in general but this is more of a character exploratory piece than an actual plot related writing

character(s): lavendula calderon (hya’s younger half sister & a mc of requiem for the monochrome), hyacinthus shrapnel (but only in mention)

lavendula contemplates how her emotionless nature pales against hya’s commanding exterior.

The first time Lavendula laid eyes upon her Hyacinthus, he had been dressed more finely than her husband. Shocking amounts of gold and grandeur adorned him; gold woven lace hidden underneath a gilded silk and stark white blouse tucked into a tight white corset laced with gold. The threads of his trousers glinted with every step, the click of golden heels on the marble floor commanding. Even from behind his mouth that could spew such malice, golden grills protected his sharp canines, making every word feel more biting with the clack of them. If you didn’t know him, you feared him and even if you did, what raw power his broad shoulders could hold. He regarded her with a look one would give a dirty, disobedient child and the warmth in it, the scathe of it, was something Lavendula had never felt.

It felt thrilling, to be hated.

She practiced that same look in the mirror months after that meeting. If she too could look upon what she’d become with such disgust, perhaps she could find the courage to drag herself from it. For hours she’d grip the counter of her sink, her knuckles turning ashen from exertion, and would stare at herself. To try and warp her face until it was ugly, until it was warm, until it burned like a hot stove to the touch, and could drive away crowds with the sting of it… but no matter what it never changed. The enforced impasse of her expression was cemented by now, and it seemed nothing could make it stray.

When she walked, she held her head high, shoulders back as though a book was upon her and a rope was tugging her backwards. Her gaze was still as blank as a cloudless sky, never faltering, or perhaps frozen by time. Observing, but never engaging. Aloof, uncaring. How she longed to cry hot tears but even those of her first childbirth felt cold.

If Hyacinthus was the sun, who raged against his pedigree, then perhaps Lavendula was the moon, hidden in the shadow of it’s legacy.

[searidings]

Lena's wardrobe planning must be a nightmare. Every day she has to account for the fact that this might finally be the day she and Kara fuck in a semi-public space

*EDIT: now on ao3 for your thirsty convenience*

“Tell me again what this article’s about?”

She asks it innocently, as if she genuinely can’t remember. As if she hadn’t spent an extra 40 minutes this morning dripping in a towel in the middle of her walk-in closet, determined to select the perfect outfit for this very conversation.

The way Kara’s eyes are glued to the exposed lines of her clavicle as she sits down tells her the extra deliberation was entirely worth it.

“It’s just a puff piece,” Kara says offhandedly, taking a seat on the far side of Lena’s desk. Or at least, she tries to take a seat but misses the chair entirely, pitching forward and almost taking half the contents of Lena’s desk with her. It’s only her superspeed that saves Lena’s water jug from its collision course with the ground and Kara rights it with sweaty fingers that leave faint smudges on the glass, blushing.

“Are you alright, darling?” Lena asks gently, biting her lip to keep from smirking as Kara, redder than a fire hydrant, finally takes her seat.

“Fine,” the blonde manages, only a little strangled. “Sorry. Just— misjudged the, you know. Chair.”

“Distracted?” Lena asks coyly, voice dipping a smooth half-octave lower as she arches an eyebrow.

She watches in barely restrained delight as Kara’s throat works. “No,” the blonde manages after a moment. “Just— busy. Articles, deadlines. You know how it is.” She seems to have regained her footing now, smoothing her hands over her slacks before reaching into her purse for a pad and pen. “The article’s another clickbait piece, basically. Dress for success: the wardrobes of women in power. Andrea’s making me write it.”

Kara’s voice drips with so much disgust that Lena purses her lips in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Kara. If there’s anything I can do—”

“Don’t be silly,” Kara says instantly, face breaking into a shy smile. “It means I get to spend the afternoon with you. And your wardrobe has always been very—” she breaks off, hand gesturing in the air between them as though she might be able to pluck the right word out of the ether. “—impressive,” she finishes with a small swallow, eyes delicately averted from the expanse of creamy skin on display before her.

“You think so?”

“Of course,” Kara says quickly. Her still floundering hand drifts back and forth in the air as if to encompass Lena’s general existence. “I’d ask if you dressed up specially for this interview, but honestly you always look like that.”

“Like that?” Lena repeats, a teasing lilt to her tone. She leans back in her office chair, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her dress. This piece, a deep red off-the-shoulder dress with a V-shaped neckline plunging just enough to be borderline workplace inappropriate, had cost more than a small car and been custom-made and shipped to her from an upscale boutique in Paris. Looking now at Kara’s wide eyes and pink cheeks, every last cent of import tax feels absolutely worth it. “Like what, exactly?”

Kara’s jaw snaps shut with an audible click and she stares down at the pad in her hands with such intensity that Lena absently wonders if the offending paper is about to be laser-visioned.

“Shall we start with the questions, then?” Kara says quickly, clicking her ballpoint pen with enough force that it shatters the entire casing. She stares forlornly down at the plastic shards in her palm until Lena clears her throat, passing another pen to the blonde with a wordless smile.

Kara removes the lid from the offered pen with the delicacy and focus of someone disarming a bomb. “I hope you don’t find this insulting,” she says as she turns to a fresh page, finally meeting Lena’s eyes again. “I mean, you’re one of the greatest minds in the country and I’m here to ask you about your clothes.”

“Not at all. Wardrobe planning is an extremely involved affair,” Lena deadpans, tilting her head to one side and relishing the way Kara’s eyes skate the cut of her jaw. “Quantum mechanics is nothing compared to the challenge of pairing the right shirt with the right jacket.”

“Right,” Kara says absently, her gaze fixed on the regal column of Lena’s bare throat. She’d foregone a necklace this morning and pulled her still-curly hair up into a soft bun for this exact purpose; knowing that her natural waves were Kara’s favourite, but knowing too that a dress like this deserved to be unencumbered by loose hair or jewellery to really reach its full potential.

“So, um,” Kara starts before swallowing hard, reaching for the glass of water waiting for her on the desk and downing its contents in one swift gulp. “What’s your, um, selection process? How would you describe your wardrobe requirements?”

One corner of Lena’s mouth tugs upwards. “As a woman in a male-dominated world, I’ve learned to use my wardrobe as a tool. My clothing has to be professional without appearing intimidating, project confidence without audacity. Visual impressions precede all other business dealings; I can tailor my wardrobe to my audience the way I would tailor a speech or a press release. When done correctly, it helps me get what I want.”

Kara is staring at her in rapt attention, eyes flicking rhythmically between Lena’s eyes and mouth. She hasn’t written a single thing on the pad in her lap.

“And of course, I have to be careful in the lab,” Lena continues, leaning forward to fold her hands together on the desk in front of her and squeezing her arms ever so slightly against the sides of her chest. It’s always prudent to take advantage of one’s strengths, and the plunging neckline of this particular outfit leaves no doubt in Lena’s mind as to which of her assets she should be emphasising right now. “I can’t wear anything that could prove dangerous.”

“Do you do that often?” Kara asks a little dazedly, gaze now focused a solid foot below Lena’s face. “Wear things that are d-dangerous?”

Lena smirks. Kara’s eyes are locked on Lena’s chest, following its gentle rise and fall with a tangible hunger. It lights a fire in Lena. “You tell me.”

The office falls utterly silent, the air between them leaden with tension. Kara’s eyes linger at the juncture where pale skin gives way to deep red fabric for one more aching moment before beginning a torturously slow crawl up Lena’s chest and neck to meet her gaze once more.

The blue eyes that lock back onto hers are dark and greedy, pupils blown wide. The sight sets Lena’s heart thud-thudding in her chest and damn the superhearing that has surely picked up on it, damn the owner of said superhearing whose lips quirk up in a barely-there smirk.

“You know,” Kara starts, pausing as her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Lena can’t stop her own eyes from dropping heavy to take in the sight and the blonde’s smirk grows another degree. “I think if I’m going to do this piece justice, I really need to see the full picture.”

Lena can do little more than stare in silent confusion until Kara stands, dropping her pad carelessly onto the chair and rounding the desk to where Lena sits. “Stand up?” she asks in a low voice, holding out a hand. “That looks like a dress that deserves to be properly admired.”

Lena swallows hard against her suddenly dry throat, taking the proffered hand mutely and rising a little unsteadily to her feet. Kara steps closer until they’re toe to toe and Lena’s not even breathing as a tanned hand reaches up and gently releases her hair from its bun, letting dark curls fall freely across her bare shoulders.

But Kara’s hand doesn’t return to her side once it accomplishes its mission. It tugs through the curls now tickling Lena’s neck, the backs of her knuckles dragging lightly against Lena’s throat until she can’t restrain a shiver. It continues its wandering, sliding up the back of Lena’s neck to bury itself fully in her hair, thumb extended to rub at the hinge of Lena’s jaw.

“Is it?” Kara asks quietly, and Lena barely represses an honest-to-god whine at the sensation of the blonde’s breath hitting her lips.

“What?” she whispers, feeling Kara’s thumb shift against her skin.

“Is this outfit helping you get what you want?”

Lena swallows hard, the movement causing Kara’s thumb to slip down her neck until it trips to a stop directly over her thundering pulse. Lena takes a deep, decidedly un-calming breath, and tries with her last shred of rational thought to claw back the control of the situation she had at some point so thoroughly surrendered. “You tell m—”

She doesn’t even get the last word out before Kara’s lips are on hers, hot and insistent and perfect and fucking finally, and Lena just. Gives up. Gives up access to her mouth as soon as Kara’s tongue hits the seam of her lips, gives up trying to hold back her moans when Kara licks in warm and wet, starts sucking on her tongue.

Gives in to the desire, years in the making, to smooth her hands over Kara’s biceps, her broad muscular shoulders. Gives in to the urge to crush their bodies together, to finally feel the delicious press of the toned planes of Kara’s frame against every one of her own curves.

The hand not still buried in Lena’s hair begins charting an exploratory path up Lena’s side, across her ribs, and Lena is grateful for the sheerness of the skin-tight fabric that does nothing to dull the burning trail Kara’s palm is blazing against her skin.

Three things happen then in quick succession: Kara’s wandering fingers reach the underside of Lena’s breast and the sudden contact causes her other hand to tighten its grip in Lena’s hair, tugging sharply. Lena gasps, head falling backwards as a low groan rips from her throat at the slight sting. Kara’s mouth drops hot and wet to Lena’s neck, lips and teeth sucking and scraping over her rocketing pulse until Lena’s writhing against her.

“How long have you wanted this?” Kara pants, trailing kisses across Lena’s jaw and down the curve of her throat. “How long could I have been doing this?”

Lena’s eyelids flutter shut, fingers digging tight into firm shoulders as Kara sucks another mark into the skin above her collarbone. She lingers long enough that Lena knows it will bruise and in this dress, with this amount of skin on display and no way to cover it up, the thought sends a thrill through her that has her arching up into the heat of Kara’s mouth. “Oh, I don’t know,” she answers breathily, tugging Kara closer still. “How long have I been dressing like this?”

It’s Kara who moans then, reaching down to hook her hands under Lena’s thighs and lifting her onto the desk, pressing herself tight between Lena’s spread legs. In the back of her mind, Lena registers an inordinate rush of gratitude toward her past self for booking out three hours for this interview and issuing strict do not disturb instructions to her assistant.

“Gorgeous as this dress is, it’s kind of in the way,” Kara pants, one hand sliding under the hem of the offending material to skim up Lena’s bare thigh. “But it looks expensive, I don’t want to rip it—”

“Rip it,” Lena gasps immediately, tugging Kara’s mouth desperately back to her own. Preserving an item of clothing has never been further from her mind than in this exact moment. And as she’d said to Kara, her wardrobe had always functioned primarily as means to an end.

And what an end this was turning out to be.