#only for that song to be my fucking surprise song

[martygraciesversion381]

21

oscar piastri x ex!reader

WARNINGS‼️: Smut!, pnv, unprotected smut (please be safe!), exes to lovers, angst, fluff

a/n: my best smut so far!!! hope you'll like this as much as i did writing it!! inspired by gracie's song 21

masterlist

April 6th 2022. The day that you waited all year and now you only wanted this day to disappear forever. You tried to call Oscar you really did but after you broke his heart when he was sure you were the love of his life it was hard to talk with him. 

You still loved him and you couldn’t stand the thought of him happy while you were hurting at your house. You took your phone and dialled Oscar’s number before throwing it across the room. 

You shouldn’t have broken up with him cause you still loved him and apparently he had another girlfriend. God you should’ve kept that man to yourself and not let him go. Sometimes you see the look in his eyes on tv when he talks about last year when you were dating and you want to kill yourself for making him hurt this much. 

Suddenly, you stood up and went into your room to change into the pretty black dress that you bought last week. You take you heels and grab your phone and a jacket before exiting your house and walking out in the cold of the night. 

While you walk, you spot a couple walking together into the street like you and Oscar used to do and you can feel tears building into your eyes. You continue walking when suddenly your phone buzzes. You look at it and see a call from Oscar. 

You pick up the call. "Hi" you whisper. "Hi y/n….i wanted to know if you’d like to come over at mine. I…I’d like to rebuild our friendship if it’s okay." a smile finds its way on your face at Oscar’s words. "You didn’t need to call me up I’m already under." You look up to the house you were standing next to and you see Oscar smiling at the window after seeing you. 

A few seconds later, he is standing at his door in one of his McLaren shirts looking at you. "You look gorgeous." You smile and mutter a small thanks before you both enter his house and go sit on the couch. You both drink a bit of champagne as the night goes on. You can feel your friendship growing again and you couldn’t be more happy. 

"Happy birthday by the way" you say to Oscar. He smiles at you. "Have you already made your wish?" "Yes I did actually" he answers "And what have you wished for?" He leans closer to you. "This" he answers before kissing you. Your arms find instinctively their way around his neck as you climd on his lap straddling him. He wraps his arms around your waist to keep you close to him while you grind your hips on his now hard erection. 

He groans into your mouth and you swallow it while both of your tongues fight for dominance. He breaks the kiss to take off his shirt and you caress his exposed chest and shoulders with your hands. He kisses your neck and bites it gently sinking his teeth in your smooth skin. 

You get up and take off your dress letting it pool at your feet. Oscar looks at you in awe before taking off his pants and pulling you back on his lap. "Gorgeous" he mumbles before continuing to mark you up. You moan softly and tug at his hair and he groans on your skin making you even more aroused. 

He unclamps your bra and let it fall on the floor before going back to kissing you tenderly. "Love you" you mumble against his lips. His eyes widen and he pulls back."W…what?" You feel fear filling you and you’re scared that he’ll push you away. Oscar feels the fear inside you and he places a comforting hand on your thigh. "I love you too…I just was a bit surprised that’s all" he rubs circular motions with his thumb on your thigh before his fingers find their way between your legs and brush against your panties.

"Look at how wet you are for me darling so desperate for my touch. Wanna feel my dick inside you? Want me to stretch you? Want me to fuck you so bad and fill you up so you won’t be able to walk?" You nod and moan. "Please Osc want you" he smirks before picking you up and taking you to the bed. He lays you down and hovers you with his body. He places a quick kiss on your nose before taking your panties and his boxers off. 

"You’re one the pill?" You nod and he slams his dick into you with a harsh thrust. He starts to fuck you without mercy hitting your g-spot with each of his hard and deep thrusts. While Oscar continues fucking you, you feel a familiar knot building into your stomach. "You close? Gonna cum on my dick like a good girl?" You moan and he brings his thumb to your clit rubbing it bringing you closer to your orgasm. The knot in your stomach finally unties and you become a shaking mess under Oscar. Moans are spilling down your lips while you milk his dick with your juices. 

Oscar grunts before coming inside you prolonging both of your highs. You both lay down on his bed. Your head rests on his chest and his arms wrap around your waist. You both fall asleep knowing that the future reserved something good for the both of you even if you were just 21.

tagglist:

@motorsportbarbie13 @f1addict3 @carloswinner @gorgeusreputation16 @swiftlyconehead @g00d--vibes @paulinegba

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

begging anyone for Vi x reader x Ellie

ANYTHING.

PUH LUH EASE

WUH LUH WUH

i’ve got you bestie you just might wanna have that therapist on speed dial, okay? soz… 🫣

death doesn’t discriminate

Vi x reader x Ellie

Summary: you were never jackson’s best fighter, you never had to be. you were of course taught the basics of self defense, and if you ever were being attacked and it was between you or them it had to be you… every single time. you just never expected to ever have to put those skills to use… unfortunately though whenever patrol goes awry and you encountered a group of bandits you had to, making your very first kill. obviously after the event you’re left traumatized, and its up to your girlfriends to pull you from the aftermath.

Contains/TW: takes place in the tlou-verse with arcane crossover characters because obviously, innocent and super sheltered reader, i’ve seen the discourse but i AM making it to where ellie CAN pick the reader up (because fuck you that’s why! 💜), told in 1st person, polyamory, set in jackson post-joel death HOWEVER obviously ellie didn’t decide to hunt down ms. girl again. mentions of murder, blood, and just gore in general and HEAVY implications of suicidal ideation. ((this is not meant to romanticize suicide in any way, i’m writing from my own personal experiences. if you or someone you know is struggling please get help. you are loved 💜)) Heavily based off of the song listed below including its lyrics that are obviously not my own creation but def wish they were 💔

WC: 2.2k

You think at some point you would grow used to death, it was always leering. Either a subtle shadow hanging by the back door or growing to overtake the whole compound. In some cases it was merciful, swiftly ending your pain through broken pleas or just pure exhaustion. But in other cases, and the ones I found to be most common, it was known to be rather violent.

I was surprised I even remembered what to do whenever the time came. A dreaded audition it felt like as I slowly trailed Ellie’s gaze to the switchblade in my back pocket, the cold press of a gun against my temple. I don’t think I even processed what had happened until I was backing away, staring at the dead body before me and the still warm blood now coating my hands. My breathing came out in startled gasps, shrieking in traumatized fear the moment I felt her arms wrapping around me from behind.

“It’s me, baby, it’s just me.” She whispered, taking me into her soothing arms even though I tried like hell to fight her off at first leaving streaks of blood in the shape of my hands against her shirt. She only held my trembling body to her chest as I tried to hold back the sobs.

‘You made one kill. Everyone here has at least made one kill. It shouldn’t affect you this much. You’ve lived your whole life letting other people do the dirty work for you, you should be able to make one kill. One measly little kill of a man who would’ve killed you had you not acted so fast.’ I guess I was the only one left who didn’t think the world was that black and white though.

~

I felt catatonic as we made our way back to Jackson, Ellie’s arms holding most of my weight. I half wanted her to leave me there, leave me there to bleed and be ravaged by whatever found me first. She never would though, even if it did mean she’d have less deadweight.

Vi never was a fan of the two of us going out on patrol without her. She always considered herself our guard dog, even over Ellie who could no doubt hold her own at this point. Many nights we still spent dozing off against her while she whispered to us that we were ‘her girls.’

“Vi, emergency.” I heard Ellie speak, my head a dull weight against her chest as she carried me through the front door.

“This is the last time the two of you go on patrol without me, I mean it this time, Els.” I heard her seething as her heavy boots nearly shook the whole house. “Is she hurt? Are you hurt? What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine but she… she had to-” Ellie held the words back, not wanting to speak them in front of me as I felt my body being placed on one of the old ratty recliners. Dead eyes staring forward, like every ounce of light had been winked out a long time ago.

Vi’s own soft blue eyes drifted downwards to the dry blood coating my still shaking hands, the quickest moment of understanding filling her expression. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” She murmured, the sentiment enough to bring forth a cascade of tears that I had been holding back until we were safely concealed in the walls again. “You did good though, doll, I need you to know that. You did amazing. Remember what we said, if it’s them or you it has to be you every single damn time.”

I sniffled through the ugly sobs with a shake of my head, I disagreed though I suppose I would always disagree. “She should’ve left me out there.” I finally spoke again after I had what felt like the inability to.

Quickly and without hesitation I could feel Ellie’s hand wrapping around my chin, gentle but firm as she turned my head to face her. “No, you aren’t allowed to say things like that.”

“Why not?” I shook my hand, eyes stinging and burning with tears as I watched her kneel in front of me with what looked like a wet washcloth.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” She didn’t answer me, carefully dabbing at my bloodied hands to wash all of the evidence away. Even though part of me wanted it to stay, tattoo the remnants of blood on my hands until I remembered who I was.

“Tell me why you shouldn’t have left me.” My voice shook as I repeated the question. Push until they finally said the truth. Push until they finally agreed to throw me to the wolves. Push and push and push… “I’ve been nothing but deadweight since I got here.”

“No.” Vi almost growled next, wrapping her own larger hand around my chin this time while I only stared back in defiance. “You are not deadweight, you are valuable and needed and- and we need you alive! I need you alive!”

“Darling, you don’t have to be a fighter to be important.” Ellie spoke next, much gentler than Vi had but still stern nonetheless.

It was hard to find a purpose to live in the apocalypse, I wasn’t sure where everyone found one. I knew Ellie had always had some terrible sense of self importance with the immunity. I guess over the years she had tried her hardest to transfer that to me. Some days it worked. Some days were good, amazing even. Gentle and soft days where I could dream about a world before the infection. A world I’m not sure I or Ellie ever remembered. Some days though, days like today, being reminded of that thought really changed things.

Vi had always been an ‘alive out of spite’ kind of person. Then one day Ellie and I rolled up into Jackson and turned her world upside down and shifted things for the better… that’s how she would tell it at least. She was slightly older, tougher, rough around the edges, but deep down I think she was secretly just lonely. She took us underneath her wing just as quickly as we arrived, all too happy to open her doors for us and things grew and built from there. But no amount of love or care I was given from the two was enough to cover up the fact, if I went outside of the walls something disastrous always managed to happen.

I was just simply deadweight. A bad luck charm if you will. These things never ended well.

“Baby, you’ve just had a bad day.” Vi shook her head as she took my own into her calloused hands. “That’s all it is, my love. We’re in the times of survival now, it’s kill or be killed and… I’m not losing either of you.”

I choked on another pathetic sob, hating myself more and more for every single one. Nevertheless though Vi pulled me into her, muffling the sounds of my cries into her shirt. Traumatized and shaking cries that I rarely actually allowed myself the luxury of, so whenever they came, they came all at once.

~

I fell asleep early that night. Vi running Ellie and I a bath to wash all of the dirt and grime from the disasterous patrol from our bodies. At some point I lost the strength to cry, but I felt like I had lost the strength to do most things. At some point over my sleeping body I had heard Ellie whispering to Vi though, to hide all of the guns, knives, switchblades, anything that could ever be used as a weapon. A mental patient in the middle of the apocalypse. Oh the irony.

“You think she would actually do something to herself?” Vi whispered in her hushed tone while Ellie gnawed anxiously at her already chipped nails.

“Yeah, I do.” She answered with a shuddering breath. “This is worse than Seattle and I- I already thought I was gonna lose her then- Vi, I’m not taking anymore chances.”

“Hey, listen, we’ll take care of her, okay? We’ve got her. We always do.”

“I hope so.” I could hear the rustling of clothes, no doubt an embrace she probably needed. An embrace they probably both needed. And I hated that I was the one who brought them there.

A moment passed and I had nearly managed to doze off again somehow in in the midst of it all just before I could feel the bed slightly dipping behind me. “Just me, you’re safe.” Ellie warned, waiting on my already exhausted muscles to relax before she slid her arms around me from behind. “I need to talk to you, okay?” She whispered against the back of my neck, my heavy eyelids fluttering open for a brief moment. “It’s okay, you can close your eyes. And you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to just… just listen, okay?”

Her fingers gently stroked soothing lines along with arms, the sensation only making my eyelids want to droop even further. “I’ve always had a- a really strong urge to protect you, Vi and I both have. A-And I think you know that. So if you wouldn’t have killed that man I wouldn’t have hesitated. He doomed himself. The moment he laid a goddamn finger on you he doomed himself. And Vi would’ve done the same thing and I think you know that too. Hell, he wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to if Vi was there.” Her fingers slid through my own, a soft yet possessive grasp.

“I know you think I gave up looking for Abby because you were reckless a-and you got hurt and you ruined things. And you were reckless, and you did get hurt but… you didn’t ruin things. You- You just changed things, for the better.” Her lips brushed against my neck, an innocent gesture though had me tilting my head to grant her more access all the same. “You saved me, baby.” She muttered, burrowing her face right into the crook of my neck as she pulled my back in closer to her chest. “I- I could’ve spent my whole life hunting that girl down, because- T-Tommy did ask me to, you know?” Her voice cracked, the feeling of small tears dripping onto my skin, a very simple way to get them to spring up into my own eyes all over again. Just whenever I thought I had been all cried out.

“You- You actually told him no?” My bottom lip quivered as I slowly twisted around to face her, just to feel her own calloused hand against my face. “But I thought you- you promised-“

“It’s not going to bring him back, love.” She shook her head, glancing downwards as if in mild shame. “But whenever you went after me in Seattle and- you got hurt…” she brushed her fingers along the jagged scar slashed into my arm that she was more or less cradling. “I know you were knocked out and you don’t remember a lot of it but… i-it really scared the fuck out of me, y-you know? Like I could lose you. I-I could really honestly lose you and… nothing is worth that, baby. Not a single thing is worth that.”

Tears swam in my eyes as she pressed her lips to the wet streaks that stained them. “You’re an angel, my love. An angel on this absolute fucked up planet and I-I pity every single person that doesn’t get to know you like Vi and I do, you know?” She briefly disconnected her hand from my face to brush away her own tears only to let it snake through my hair as she tugged me back into her chest. “You’re innocent, and you’re kind and you didn’t let any of this take it away and- I hope you never do, honestly.” I felt her chest sinking as she took in a heavy breath and held me to her almost for dear life. Like she was afraid I’d slip away the moment I let go. “No amount of self-sought fury will bring that back… I’ve tried. S-So please, I know it’s hard to find a purpose in this life but… please baby, please stay with me. With us.”

I curled up to her side, resting a heavy head right against where I could feel her heart thumping so softly. The other side of the bed dipped and while I might have flashed back to that moment briefly Ellie’s arms wrapped around me so protectively were enough to pull me back down to earth. At least for a moment.

“My girls.” Vi’s voice followed next, her arm nearly long enough to stretch over the both of us as she brought us close to her with ease. I felt my back pressing against her muscular chest as she settled down next to us, taking her usual trusty spot closest to the door as always.

It was hard to promise survival during the end of the world, even safe within the walls of a community. But for that night I at least promised I wouldn’t do it on my own accord. Someday, somewhere, something would kill me, but it wouldn’t be at my own hand.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.

Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

Heyyyy

can you do a song blurb for Sirius using Conan grays wish you were sober???

Wish You Were Sober

sirius black x reader - wish you were sober

word count: 850

summary: sirius only expresses interest when he’s drunk

warnings: mentions of alcohol, angsty, sirius kind of being an asshole

a/n: YOU FUCKING GENIUS that song is so him reminder my requests are open!!

(this gif is so silly to me)

     The room was alive with a pulse that Y/n didn’t share. The music thudded in her chest, the laughter was too loud, and the air was thick with smoke and the tang of Firewhisky. She sipped from her untouched glass of Butterbeer, her eyes darting around James and Lily's living room, searching for an excuse to leave.

     “This party’s shit,” she muttered under her breath, but no one heard her over the chaos.

     From across the room, Sirius Black threw back another drink, his laughter cutting through the noise. He was magnetic—always had been. His ripped jeans, unruly hair, and reckless grin gave him the kind of charm that made people orbit him like he was the center of the universe. Y/n wished she wasn’t one of them.

      She felt his eyes on her before she saw him weaving through the crowd. She turned away, hoping he’d lose interest, but his voice called her name over the din.

     “Y/n!”

     Her heart sank.

     “Merlin’s beard,” she muttered, forcing a neutral expression as he approached.

     “Why’re you all alone?” he asked, leaning on the wall beside her. His words slurred slightly, and she could smell the alcohol on him.

     “Too loud. Not my scene,” she replied flatly, avoiding his gaze.

     He grinned, completely ignoring her tone. “You’re missing out.”

     Y/n sighed. “You’re drunk already?”

     Sirius shrugged, taking it as a joke. “Does it matter?”

     Yes, she thought. It mattered more than she could admit.

     “Come on,” he said, tugging at her arm. “Dance with me.”

     “No thanks.”

     He didn’t let go. “Don’t be boring, Y/n. Just one dance.”

     “I’m leaving,” she said, pulling away. “Go find someone else to entertain you.”

     His grin faltered, replaced by something softer. “You don’t have to go.”

     “I don’t want to be here, Sirius.” She met his gaze for the first time, and the rawness there caught her off guard. For a moment, she thought he might say something real—something honest—but then he laughed, masking whatever he’d been about to reveal.

     “Suit yourself,” he said, stepping back.

      Y/n turned and headed for the door, her chest tight. She didn’t look back.

     The cold night air was a relief, crisp and quiet compared to the chaos inside. Y/n stuffed her hands in her pockets and started walking down the street, the sound of her footsteps the only company she needed.

     She didn’t hear Sirius until he called her name again, his voice softer this time.

     “Y/n, wait.”

      She stopped, turning to see him jogging toward her, his breath clouding in the night air. His ripped jeans and loose jacket were no match for the cold, but he didn’t seem to care.

      “What are you doing?” she asked.

     “Being with you,” he said, as if it were obvious.

     “You’re drunk, Sirius. Go back to the party.”

      He shook his head, stumbling slightly. “I don’t want to be there. I want to be with you.”

     Her stomach twisted. “You won’t even remember this tomorrow.”

     “Of course I will.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

     She sighed. “Fine. But I’m walking you home. You shouldn’t be out like this.”

     The streets were quiet, the distant hum of music fading as they walked. Sirius tried to keep the conversation light, but Y/n wasn’t playing along.

     “You’re no fun tonight,” he said, bumping her shoulder.

     “Maybe because I’m tired of this,” she snapped.

     He blinked, surprised. “This?”

     “This,” she repeated, gesturing between them. “You only say these things when you’re drunk, Sirius. You flirt, you pull me in, and then the next day, you act like nothing happened. I’m done.”

     He stopped walking, his expression unreadable. “That’s not fair.”

      “Isn’t it?”

     He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “You don’t get it.”

     “Then explain it to me,” she challenged.

     “I can’t,” he said, his voice breaking.

     She stared at him, her chest aching. “That’s what I thought.”

     They walked the rest of the way in silence.

     When they reached Sirius’s flat, he fumbled with his keys, swaying slightly. Y/n reached out to steady him, her touch hesitant.

     “Thanks,” he mumbled, pushing the door open.

     She hesitated on the threshold, unsure whether to leave.

     “Stay,” he said suddenly, his voice hushed. “Just for tonight.”

      “Sirius…”

     “Please.” He stepped closer, his hand brushing hers. “I don’t want to be alone.”

      Her resolve crumbled, but only for a moment. “I can’t.”

     He looked at her, his gray eyes pleading. “Why not?”

      “Because you’re drunk,” she said, her voice shaking. “And I can’t keep doing this.”

     He didn’t reply, and the silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

     “Goodnight, Sirius,” she whispered, stepping back.

     Y/n walked home alone, the cold biting at her skin. She didn’t cry—she couldn’t. There was nothing left to give.

     Sirius watched her go from his doorway, the weight of her words settling over him like a storm. He closed the door and leaned against it, his head in his hands.

      They were both left with the same thought:

     I wish you were sober.

[melancholymetropolis]

Sex With Me

plot: In which Wade and Logan have fun with with a Southern Belle, who just might have a secret or two

pairings: Deadpool x Monster!Reader x Logan

genre(s): Porn with Feelings; Monster Fucking

warnings: unedited (mostly). mentions of domestic violence + medical procedures. Reader has scars. Grumpy Logan. Golden Retriever Wade. Sassy Reader. Is there a word stronger than PORN? Because that's what this fic is. not a threesome. not a foursome *wink wink* but some secret third thing. (it's full of surprises)

song association: Sex With Me - Rihanna

a/n: This has been in my drafts since August. There is a Part I, but it's not necessarily needed.

w.c: 7.5k (all smut)

 The smile on Wade’s scorned face was something of fiction. There was an unbridled joy behind his eyes that was hard to interpret. It almost felt like he was honored to be included. He seemed shocked that his peeping Tom tendencies actually landed him a shot at me. His brown eyes always held a light interest in me; it flickered behind his pupils every time I traded him the lasagna dish. There was a longing behind his humor. Looking back at it, I am shocked he didn’t act on that attraction sooner. Maybe he feared to be rejected or simply he didn’t want to ruin a good thing. But, it was hard to tell, being that one meager suggestion from Logan has the man scrambling over to me like an amateur roller skater.

Maybe seeing his roommate with his head between my legs sparked something in him.

“As much as I want to seek heaven between those soft thighs, I want to be absolutely sure this is what you want, Blue Belle,” Wade said, throwing me a serious expression. “‘Fine’ is not going to cut it. I need your verbal consent that you would like to engage in a menage a trois with me and beast boy over there.”

“Keep making cracks and I will rescind my invitation,” Logan huffed.

“It’s not up to you, caveman,” Wade snapped back. “Beautiful Gorgeous is calling the shots now. Meaning, if she wants me to stay, you’ll have to put up with  these cracks for the rest of our lives.”

“A little ambitious, don’t you think?” I smirked. “Who’s to say this isn’t a one-time thing?”

“Now who’s the one cracking jokes?” His arm circled around my waist. With a gentle tug, our chests were pressed together and our eyes drilling into each other's with an interest that can only be described as unholy. “It's bold of you to assume that I had any interest in letting you go now that I got you.”

“That's hilarious considering I still have the chance to reject your offer,” I chided back.

“I'm not above getting on my knees and begging a pretty little thing for permission to access her body,” he whispered as desire flashed in his eyes. “I actually prefer to be on my knees more than standing up right.”

“I bet you'd prefer it if I'd call you “good boy” from this point on,” I purred, trailing a finger down his spine.

Wade shivered. “You can only call me that from now on. Strike “good” and “boy” from your vocabulary right now.”

“I'll see what I can do, darling,” I cooed, dragging a manicured nail along the side of his neck.

“Every time you speak with that thick syrupy accent, my dick grows harder by the word,” Wade groaned, leaning into my hand. “I'm seconds from making a mess in my jorts.”

“You're wearing a tracksuit,” I chuckled.

“Am I?” he briefly looked down at himself. “I am. Shit, I forgot where I was for a second, Blue Belle. You sure aren't hypnotizing me with your doe eyes, are you?”

“A lady never reveals her secrets,” I smiled.

“I'm going to kiss you now,” he said, pulling me even closer. “Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

His lips pressed against mine in a tender peck. It was to test the waters and provide me a chance to back out. I leaned into him. I kissed him with a ferocity that he welcomed like a lightning strike. Wade shivered beneath my touch and moaned against my lips. His strong hands gripped my rear and massaged its soft tissue gingerly. His fingers tangled in the ruffles of my hand opened sundress as he lifted its skirt from the ground. Another pair of hands slid up my legs as a broad chest pressed against my back. 

A nose ran along the side of my craned neck, swiftly followed by a tongue. The third member of our devil's threesome. His calloused hands nipped and poked at my thighs. Almost like he was fascinated by their softness, as if he wasn't between them moments before. Logan's fingers found the zipper on my left side and dragged the metal piece down. The garment sagged around my body and I reluctantly broke the kiss with Wade. Goosebumps decorated my skin as Logan’s hands assisted in the removal of the dress. He tried to push the sleeves from my shoulders.

“Hold on, baby,” I said, pulling away from the man behind me. “This is an overhead garment. Gotta lift it from the bottom.”

Without saying a word, the men lifted to the oversized skirt from the ground pulled the dress over my head. The cool air in the apartment nipped at my bare skin. I felt my nipples perk beneath the thin material of my bra. My panties sat awkwardly on my hips and thighs due to Logan’s earlier activities. I was pretty sure my wig resembled a bird's nest on my head— yet those men stared at me as if I was the first and only woman they'd ever seen. Wade had a look on his eye as if he were too afraid to touch me. As if I were a fragile being worth shielding and protecting.

Once I turned to fully face hugger, I noticed his eyes were zeroed in on one particular spot. My spine.

“Spinal realignment surgery at 16,” I said with a sad smile. “Hurt like a bitch, wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.”

A calloused finger dragged against my spine slowly. I shivered underneath the featherlike touch and took my bottom lip between my teeth. A different finger, from another palm, traced another familiar spot along my body. 

“Ex husband,” I sighed, a hint of sadness in my tone. “Terrible drunk with great aim.”

“Did he throw a fucking machete at you?” Logan grunted. “That scar is fucking huge.”

A humorless chuckle fell from my lips. “It was a wine bottle. The force of the bottle to my chest knocked me on my back, right onto a beer bottle. It broke and pieces of it lodged into my shoulder.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Blue Belle,” Wade hissed. “I am sorry you went through that. Good thing he’s an ex, because I would have no problem making you a widow within the hour. Scum like that shouldn’t be breathing the same air as you.”

“Agreed,” Logan replied, resting a hand on my hip.

I turned around and took a step back. I took in the expressions of both men before. Their faces were a mixture of anger, dread and anticipation. The desire to murder my ex was evident on their face, however it wasn’t the only form of desire I could see. The men stared at my body in disbelief. In complete shock. They could not fathom someone wanting to inflict harm on me. Even with my twisted underwear and cotton bra, their eyes swallowed me like I was the only water for miles. I watched their hands twitch the longer I stood away from them. Almost like they were itching to feel my skin once more. Their desire to not only defend me from an ex and to remain in constant skin contact made my heart sing.

With a small smile, I lifted my arms behind my back and proceeded to unclasp my bra. The fullness of my breast blossomed against my front and I watched the men’s eyes widened at the sight. Logan was the first to reach me. Hot kisses graced my lips and neck, while his massive hand massaged my bosom. Wade took the area behind me and kissed along my shoulders. When Logan pulled his head away from my neck, he lifted my heavy breast into his hand. Craning his head downward, his mouth latched onto the nipple. The wet heat of his tongue caused me to stumble backward a little bit; Wade’s body caught me from falling backward any more. My hand found the shaggy hair atop the older man’s head and gripped the strands at the roots. He growled at the action and gently nipped the soft tissue of my breast.

A squeal-type moan erupted from my mouth at the action. 

“Ooh, you and wolfy have a mutual kink!” Wade chirped, gripping my hips tightly. “How exciting.”

“W-we do?” I panted, leaning into him.

 Logan moved to the neglected bud; sucking it into his naughty mouth. 

Wade’s hot breath fanned my earlobe as he crouched down to my ear. My senses were going haywire from the stimulation those men were giving me. My thoughts were squiggly lines floating in my skull; forming words was starting to get harder by the second.

“Logan loves to bite during sex,” Wade whispers, slipping his band into my waistband. His calloused fingers slid against my damp curls and straight to my oozing lower lips. “Maybe it is his wolfy nature, or whatever. Leaves me covered in marks every time we fuck. I am particularly indifferent  from the notion. But you.” His calloused fingertips found my aching bud almost instantly. “Seem to enjoy being nipped by the beast.”

As if on queue, Logan bit my other breast; earning a moan from me. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” the older gentleman growled, eyes drilling into me. “Don't let him distract you.”

“Someone's jealous,” Wade said in a singsong voice.

“Wade, please, shut the fu—”

“Afraid I might steal her from you?”

“Wade, I swear to—”

“I need to tell you something,” I interjected, pulling away from both gentlemen. Their eyes snapped to me. “Before we go any further.”

“Do you have a third nipple?” Wade asked, looking at my breasts intensely. 

Logan just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms against his chest. He gave me a serious look. I watched him inhale deeply and his whole body shiver in the process. His pupils gradually dilated and I could see the goosebumps start to prick his skin. My eyes turned to Wade and his reaction was similar. But, instead of goosebumps, his face flushed a deep crimson. I could feel my true essence start to fill the room and its scent was stronger then. The familiar coolness of fog gathering at my feet sent chills to my body and I felt my eyes roll back. The fog rose from its place at my ankles and wrapped around me like a hug. My skin vibrated beneath the cold cloak and my feet slowly started to lift from the ground. The fog spun around me faster and I felt my skin suddenly grow hotter. There was a distinctive ache on the very top of my head and between my shoulder blades. The tissue stretched and then pulled right back to me. Almost like it never left.

My eyes snapped open, but my eyes rolled to the back of my head. My neck craned backward and my wig slipped from my head. My neatly braided hair was exposed underneath. Each row started to slowly unravel, unleashing my coils. My humidity from the fog made my hair puff up and the mysticism in the air sculpted it to a perfect afro. Fingers laced with mine within the fog and their coldness warmed my heart. 

My feet gradually lowered onto the ground and the fog started to retract back into the earth. 

When I opened my eyes, I saw both men before: slack-jawed.

“There’s. . . two of you. . . “ Logan tried to say. “What . . . ?”

“I gotta admit, Blue Bell, when you said you had something to show us, I'd thought it was an extra body part or something,” Wade said in disbelief. “Not a whole person. I mean this is more than unexpected, but I cannot say I'm mad about it.”

The cold fingers slipped from mine and I turned to Violet. Her smile was wide, exposing all of her pointy teeth. Her glowing eyes were the shade of burning coal. A chorus of deep orange and yellow. Her imposing horns, somewhat hidden underneath her massive (matching) afro. They arched backward slightly and then tilted up slightly; almost like the letter “S”. Her skin was a deep, rich purple. almost resembling the color of cartoon grapes (🍇). Her fingers and feet were pitch black, which gradually faded to the juicy purple color. Like they dipped in black ink. Each finger was topped with two inch, black stiletto nails. Two, imposing violet and black wings sat neatly behind her. Along with a slim, long tale.

Violet raised her arms over her head and released an exaggerated sigh. “It's good to be free. Jesus, how long have we been merged? A month? Two? I lost count.”

“It's been a week, Violet,” I replied with a chuckle. “Remember, you helped bake the cookies for the funeral?”

“Right! The one for Mary Joe,” the purple woman shook her head. “May she rest in peace. Always liked her. She had a mean tongue. I don't think I've ever come so hard just from oral.” The purple woman fanned herself. “Ooh, I'm getting hot just thinking about it. Gone too soon, I say.”

Someone cleared their throat and brought our attention over to them. It was Logan. A furrow sat between his brow and his eyes were narrowed. The arms across his front made his chest look even bigger. His eyes shot between us, the question lingering in his eyes.

“What exactly.  .  . are you?” His question was careful, but still had some edge to it. 

“Testy testy, that one,” Violet said, shaking her head. “I don't get what you see in him.”

“Be nice,” I whispered, before turning to Logan. “Before I answer that question, I would like to point out that I know you both aren't human. I know that you are not in the plumbing business and I know exactly what you do for money. So, let's not point the finger just yet, Mr. Howlet.”

“You sneaky minx!” Wade finally spoke up. “You've been spying on little ‘Ole me?”

“Not me,” I replied with a smirk. “Her.” I nodded to Violet.

“Guilty as charged,” she chirped, raising her hand. “I mean, how could I not? You guys are a smoke show! Plus, I wanted to split Logan in two for being a bastard, but Y/N wouldn't let me.”

“Because I knew he'd just regenerate shortly after,” I sighed.

“Still would've been satisfying,” she shrugged. “Besides, he deserved it. Who rejects lasagna? Especially with homemade pasta sheets?! An absolute jerk-off that's who!”

“I knew you made the pasta from scratch!” Wade exclaimed. “Nothing that good could come from a box. I was just telling wolfy—”.

“We're getting off topic,” Logan interjected. “You never answered the question.”

“Stop being such a grumpy old man and let the pretty girls talk. You're such a wet blanket.” Wade narrowed his eyes at him before turning back to us. “Don't let his faux disinterest fool you. This fucker eats more than half of the treats you make for me. Practically leaving me crumbs in the pyrex dish. Selfish bastard he is.” 

“Don't worry, baby, mama's gonna make something special just for you,” Violet cooed, dragging her nails across his earlobe, making the man shiver. She brought her hot mouth close to his ear and whispered. “Don't you like cinnamon rolls, darling?”

“More than anything, actually,” Wade groaned, leaning into her touch. “Anything sticky, sweet and spicy will always have my cock. I mean my heart. Shit both of them.”

My eyes flickered over to Logan. “The answer is I am both human and succubus. Violet is the physical manifestation of my demon side and I, currently, am the physical manifestation of my human side. We are not twins, nor are we related. We are two conscious beings that often share a body. Two sides of the same coin.”

“Think of us as the literal representation of the angel and devil on your shoulder,” Violet said, trailing her claws down Wade's abs. “She's the angel, despite her poor taste in men.” 

“Ouch,” I feigned offense.

“And I am the devil,” she continued on, ignoring me.

Logan looked between us two. “So, you are not a mutant?”

I shook my head. “Just the product of an unholy union between a god fearing Christian woman and an incubus.”

He hummed slowly and, with one swift movement, our chests were pressed against each other. “I apologize for being an asshole and hurting your feelings. You didn’t deserve that and I am sorry.” His words were gentle, just like his embrace. They made my heart flutter and my body warm.

“You should apologize to Wade for eating his lasagna,” I purred, drawing circles on his collarbone. “That wasn't very nice.”

“I'm not going to apologize for something I don't regret,” he huffed, pulling me tighter. “I enjoyed every single bite of it and I will do it again with the next dish you've brought.”

“You're so greedy,” I chuckled. “You don't deserve any lasagna after the things you've done. Don't think a few licks and kisses will make me change my mind. You were so cold, I could've shown you hated me.”

“Quite the opposite actually,” Wade groaned, while Violet slid her hand in his pants. “He practically parks his ass by the window every time tend to your lawn. And watches you like a creep. He even scares off some rowdy teenagers trying to pluck your roses. Real protective that one.”

“Oh really?” I said with a smile. “Since when did you become so infatuated with me, Sir Lancelot?”

“From the beginning,” he mumbled, looking away from me. “I've never hated you. I just thought. . . that your generosity was conditional at first. That you'd ask us for something after a little while. You never did. Even when you should've. No lady should have to clean her own gutters or change a tire.”

“I’ll be sure to call you the next time I need a big, strong man to save me from chores,” I replied, pulling his face closer to mine. 

“You better,” Logan  grumbled before pressing his mouth to mine. 

The kiss was slow and seductive. I felt my body slowly melt against his the longer we embraced. My hands slowly found themselves in his hair as he gripped my waist tightly.  With just a few inches difference in our heights, I could feel his bulge run against my pelvis. His was so hard it warped the fabric. His  hands moved lower down my legs and he crouched his body lower to reach them. The grumpy man lifted me off the ground and hooked my legs around his waist.

 I broke the kiss with a gasp and wrapped my hands around his neck. “Whisking me away, are you?”

“My lady has been on her feet for far too long,” he replied, a devilish grin on his face. 

He'd never admit it, but I could tell the bastard loved to roleplay. 

A moment later, my back collided with the soft surface of a mattress. My body bounces a little from the impact and it earns a giggle from me. Logan crawls atop the bed, hovering over my smaller form. A goofy smile on his lips.

“You're so beautiful when you laugh,” he declares, capturing my lips once more.

I moaned, already getting addicted to the taste of him. My hands slide under his shirt and I start to push the garment up his abdomen. He breaks the kiss briefly before tugging it over his head. Logan moans against my mouth as my hands undo his belt buckle and jean closures. My fingers slide down the open space and cup his hard length. The man sucks in a breath and tears away from the kiss. He rested his forehead against mine and stared directly into my eyes. 

“Is my lady getting restless?” He asked, the heat of his gaze making me sweat.

“You have no idea,” I replied, squirming underneath him. “If I get any wetter, I could ring out my panties. All this foreplay has got me oozing. I'm seconds away from ripping your pants off and riding you like a stallion.”

“I wouldn't be opposed to such an act,” he replied with a laugh.

“Good to know,” I said. “Now lie on your back.”

“Yes, ma'am”.

With my panties off, I climbed back on the bed, right atop of Logan. I swung my leg over his face and placed my oozing cunt just inches from that hot crevice of a mouth. The older man groaned loudly and brought both of his hands to my ass. He massaged the soft tissue slowly, nipping the dimpled cheeks lightly. Arching my back, I gave him better access to the glistening folds. I placed both hands on his abdomen and brace myself. 

Logan, the sweet man he is, didn't say a word. He simply opened his mouth and dragged his tongue along the oozing slit. A shiver danced through me as he repeated the action several times before placing his mouth on my folds and sucking. His naughty tongue lapper against my pearl with a hunger I've briefly seen before. The man beneath me was starving and aching for me. His tongue attacked the underside of my clit with a pressure and a pace that left me breathless. My original plan was to take him in my mouth while he feasted upon me. But, by how he worked that mouth, Logan wanted me to focus on one thing. And that was coming on his face. 

My hips rolled against his face as my nails dug into his thighs. My lower half was completely smothering his face, but the mutant wouldn't have it any other way. 

Although my legs were quaking, I still managed to undo the buttons of his jeans and freed the tent at the crotch. The girth of his member had me whimpering. Due to my height, I was just able to wrap my fist around the shaft, even then, only my fingertips touched. I brought the tip near my lips and circled my tongue around it. The man below sucked in a breath and smacked my rear lightly. I yelped at the sudden action and rolled my hips against his face once more. Logan groaned and continued to attack my folds. He licked and sucked the area right below my clit, never really touching the bundle of nerves. Inch my inch, I took the shaft in my mouth. Since the angle was awkward, I could only get the member about halfway inside. I used my hand to make up the difference. I bobbed my head slowly at first, experimenting with my movements and highlighting my limits.  Gradually, I moved quickly against him; hollowing my cheeks in the process. I felt the man groan underneath me, his breathing picking up as I worked my mouth on his cock. I felt the member twitch within my mouth before Logan finally stopped teasing me. 

With a subtle tilt of my hips, Logan’s plush lips found my pearl and began to suck. Hard. My mouth fell open and the member fell from my lips. The moans coming from my throat were unrecognizable as I started to fiercely grind on his face.

“Just like that,” I panted, digging my nails in his thighs. “Keep doing that and I am gonna cum.”

As my eyes flickered closed, an image came into focus. It was Wade. His arms were raised above his head, bound by something— maybe handcuffs or rope. His eyes were heavily lidded and his lips slightly ajar. The rise and fall of his chest was quick. Almost as though he were panting. Thick ropes of milky cum painted his rippling abs and it just kept spilling from his cock. A black hand moved along the length in short, quick bursts; squeezing tightly as it went. It was then that I noticed that Wade was holding his muscular thighs in the air. Exposing the bright purple toy slipping in and out of his slick center. The silicone dildo rested in the center of Violet’s apex, held up by a leather harness and silver D rings. It was our prized position for many reasons, but the main one being that it was double ended. I could feel Violet’s pleasure pool in her belly the longer she pounded into Wade. Her thighs were trembling and her breathing was just as hoarse as Wade’s. 

She was seconds from cumming.

As was I. 

I could feel my walls begin the quiver against his face, desperately aching to be filled by something. It hadn’t come. Yet. The moans spilling from my lips started to grow louder in pitch as a pool started to fill in my stomach. Tingles started to erupt underneath my skin. It started at my fingers and toes, making its way up my limbs and settled in my mid section. My entire being was ablaze and the pleasure was intensifying by the second. I could feel Violet’s orgasm building, just as I was sure she felt mine. It was deeper and more intense. 

Another image came to mind. Her palm stopped stroking Wade’s cock mid-stroke. She snatched her fingers from the member and started to move her hips faster. Hammering into the man at an inhuman pace. His eyes widened from the change and his grip tightened on his thighs. Breath caught in his throat, he simply nodded fiercely at the demon. Silently begging she wouldn’t stop. The toy dug deeper in both parties, ferociously attacking their pleasure points. I could hear Violet begin to yell in the next room, her passionate shouts shaking the walls.

My eyes started to roll to the back of my head as a silent scream fell from my lips. All feeling left my body as the orgasm washed over me. My hips rolled against Logan’s face, humping his mouth with little mercy. I desperately sucked in a gust of air, before releasing a loud moan. 

“Lord, help me!” I cried, gripping his thighs for dear life. “I’m cumming! Holy fuck!”

Even with my eyes tightly closed, I knew the mist was rising from the ground and swiftly engulfing my body. Tingles reverberated underneath my skin and made the hair on the back stand up. A golden light pierced the back of my eyelids as the last glorious seconds of the climax took over Me. I rolled my hips against his face, chanting his name in the process. I never wanted his lips to leave my quivering cunt, but I knew that was unrealistic. Especially with what awaited me when I opened my eyes.

As the fog dissipated, I found myself in a new location. I blinked several times and took in the scene before me. My body was not hovering over Logan, but pressed against another. My breasts nestled against a hard chest and my thighs were on either side of a narrow waist. My soft tummy pressed against a set of sticky abs. Resting just below my apex, poking my inner thigh, was someone's else's cock. Wade's, to be specific.

His eyes were wide with disbelief at the sight, rapidly scanning my face to see if this was really happening. 

“Did you guys just.  .  . switch places?” He asked, gripping his wrist restraints tightly. 

“More or less”, I said with a shrug.

“Well smack my ass and call me Sally!” He replied with a chuckle. “You two are just full of surprises, huh?”

“You could say that,” I chuckled, tracing a nail along his ear.

“What else you got up your sleeve, Blue bell?” Wade groaned at the sensation. “Anything else you'd like to share with the class?”

I could feel his member perk up against my thigh with every other pass of my finger. He was growing hard and  faster than I had originally anticipated. Wade had wanted me. His attraction was not a surprise as the massive man wore his brain on his sleeve. His thoughts were free to anyone that would listen and his actions. . . as transparent as glass. Wade wanted me from the first moment I knocked on his door with the lasagna dish. I saw his lingering glances on my body and I hadn’t minded. He was a hunk of a man and I felt myself in need of a ride.

I lifted myself from my position on his chest and placed both hands on his pecs. My knees rested on either side of his slim waist as my hot cunt rested on his lap. His member twitched beneath me. His eyes became hooded and the scorned man tugged at the cuffs at his wrists.

“Are you sure you're not an angel?” Wade said with jagged breaths. “Because you look downright heavenly in this position. Hands on my chest. Wet pussy smothering my cock. That seductive look in your eye that tells me you're about to do something that's gonna make me cum like a fountain. God, you're so beautiful. I'm probably gonna spill just looking at ya. Say something, gorgeous. Because if you don’t, I’m gonna keep—”

My hips rolled against his throbbing length, earning a groan from the male. “You’re so hard for me, despite just spilling all over yourself moments ago.”

“Keep moving like that and I’m gonna spill again,” he growled, moving his hips in rhythm with mine. 

“If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you spill inside me,” I cooed, digging my nail in his chest.

His groans turned to whimpers. “Please, Blue Belle,” Wade begged, pulling at his restraints. “Please let me fill that hot, dripping pussy with my cock. I’ve been waiting for that since the moment I met you. If I have to wait any longer, I’m gonna make a fool of myself. Please, darling. I need you.”

A smirk found my lips. “I didn’t even have to ask you to beg,” I said, lifting my hips from his member. I lifted a hand from his chest and brought it between our joint bodies. I gripped the thick shaft and aligned it with my entrance. “Just for that, you get your wish.” 

Slowly, I sunk onto his awaiting cock. A gasp ripped from my lips as a groan came from Wade. Followed by a curse. Inch by Inch, I took him. Pumping my hips slowly to make the process faster. I placed both hands on his chest once more and started to grind against Wade. The head of his member pushed against a spot I almost forgot I had. My legs quivered at the friction. Wade had a smug look on his face and, in that moment, I knew we were both thinking the same thing: I wasn’t going to last long. With that thought resting at the front of my mind, I decided to make the best of our predicament. I tilted my body a bit forward, and pressed my palms harder against his chest. I widened the position of my thighs, arched my back and pressed my knees firmly on the mattress. Once my body was stable, I started to move. I didn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of easily getting into it; I threw my ass back with the vindication of a seasoned professional.

“Oh! Oh God!” Wade exclaimed, gripping the headboard. “Jesus. . . Fuck!”

The length of his member was not surprising, since everything about Wade oozed big dick energy. He was cocky, arrogant and well endowed. It was the girth that surprised me. It was thicker than I was used to. It stretched my slick canal with passion. My walls were pulsing intensely from the intrusion. God, how I wanted to be filled like that in such a long while. Wade had stretched me in ways I didn’t think was possible, at least not anymore. Logan had done his partner a disservice by giving me such an intense orgasm from oral. The desire to be filled was prevalent. Sure, cumming on the tongue of a beautiful man was great, but the thought of being absolutely hammered by his member was another. 

My eyes flickered closed as pleasure zapped through me like a lightning strike. Through the foggy haze of my incoming climax, I could see a pillow, through Violet’s eyes. The position of the pillow was moving, almost like it was being moved back and forth at a quick pace. Or, Violet was being moved in that sequence. The succubus briefly lifted her head from the plush surface and craned her neck backward. Logan came into view. He was shirtless and sweat coated his body. His teeth were clenched and face was contorted. His hips moved at a pace that could only be described as brutal. Just how Violent liked it. The demon preferred to be in change. She took her position of dominatrix very seriously. But, there were times when she liked to switch, when the partner was powerful enough to dominate her. It seemed like Violet had met that partner. Logan was pounding into her like he hated her. Fast and hard. He was also muttering words I couldn’t necessarily make out, but knowing Violet, it was probably something scandalous.

The sight of Logan losing control had earned a moan out of me. He looked so hot when behaving so erratically. I was so distracted by the sight that I almost missed the set of hands gripping my wrists. Almost. My eyes snapped open and looked down at Wade. The cuffs that bound his wrists dangled from the headboard, still in tack. 

“How did you—”

“A magician never shares his secrets,” he snickered. “Now, press your chest against mine. I would like to try something.”

“Taking charge, pet?” I jested, leaning forward.

“Only trying to keep your attention,” he replied, wrapping his arms around me. “At least while I got you.”

Before I could respond, Wade moved his hips upward, effectively thrusting into me from below. A startled moan spilled from my lips as I hooked my arms underneath his shoulders. Once grasping his body tightly, the man beneath me began to thrust. Hard and fast. He matched the pace I had originally set for our union. He didn’t have the patience to wait for the future, to see if I were to switch places once more. Instead, he was going to milk every moment that we had together. 

“That’s it, Blue Belle,” Wade growled, digging his fingers in my sides. “Scream for me.”

I hadn’t known I was screaming until he pointed it out. My mind was simply in a state of shock. I knew that Wade was not an innocent man, by a landslide, and that he was not purely submissive. But, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that he was so good at playing both positions. The bumbling, needy sub and the insatiable dominant. A true switch. 

The way his cock dug inside me was evidence that he excelled at being in charge. My legs shook at the intensity of the position and  the depth of him. My walls pulsed around him, squeezing tightly, as a familiar feeling in my belly grew. I was close.

“Wade. . .” I trailed off.

“I know, gorgeous,” he grunted, eyes flickering over my face. “I know.”

“I-I’m. . . mmm— oh lord!” 

The remaining strength within my being had quickly dissipated and I felt my body completely mesh with Logan’s. My breasts were pressed against his chest and my head fell in the crook of his neck. I held him tighter, as his cock managed to hit that pleasure point directly with each thrust. Second by second, my body grew taut. My muscles started to lock as my mouth slowly opened. My eyes slowly rolled back as I started to pant heavily. The pressure in my belly had spilled over and an indescribable sensation had overcame me. 

I was cumming, hard.

“That’s it, baby,” Wade encouraged. “There you go. Cum for me.”

A jagged breath fell from my lips as I whined atop the man. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“Never,” he replied, a smile in his voice.

A string of curses left my lips as the wave of pleasure kept rolling over me. I never wanted it to end. I never wanted to part from that room. Part from Wade. But, I knew it was coming. The coolness of the mist had inched up my feet and started to swirl at my legs. It was only then that I felt the faint burst of Violet’s pleasure. She had reached her peak, the same time I had reached mine. Again. Meaning, it was time to switch. 

I looked down at Wade, who’s hips were starting to stagger. His face was pulled in a pinched expression and I felt his body suddenly shudder. He was close. The mist had started to collect around my form, but I kept it at bay. Mentally stalling the switch, just for a few seconds. Wade kept hammering into me until his hips halted, in mid thrust. His member pulsed aggressively before shooting hot spurts of cum inside me. I moaned at the sensation and rolled my hips against him.

“Give it to me, pet,” I said, pressing kisses to his face. “Fill me with your seed.”

Wade let out a strangled cry before collapsing on the bed. His member still pulsed, but oozed instead of squirting.

“God, you really are a dream,” he said, satiated. 

“Only to you.”

Upon opening my eyes, I was greeted with another panting man. Instead of being situated beneath me, Logan was directly above me. His dark brown eyes poured into me, a mixture of various emotions behind them. Relief. Astonishment. Desire. Longing. He was waiting for my return in his arms. And by the look on my face, I knew we shared the same desire. Logan’s lips were on mine before I could utter a single syllable. The weight of his body damn near suffocated me as he pulled me closer. Held me tighter. My legs hooked around his waist. Our nude pelvises grinding against one another. His cock gradually hardened from the action and I became even wetter than I already had.

“I’ve been waiting for you, M’lady,” Logan said, breaking the kiss. “I hope you’ll  have me.”

My chest glowed at his use of roleplay. “I will,” I said, running a hand in his hair. “But, you must promise to be gentle. Wade did a number on me.”

Logan growled at the last bit, but didn’t mention it. Instead, he gently lifted his lower half from mine and took his member in hand. Slowly, he sunk into my awaiting center— earning a moan from the both of us. There was more of him than Wade. He had been bigger in length, but also in girth. The more he inched in me, the more grateful I was for the switch. It would’ve taken a bit longer to adjust  to Logan’s size. Wade had not only stretched me something devious, but made me wet enough to take him easily. 

When successfully connected, Logan started to roll his hips against me. It wasn’t a thrust, but also wasn’t a grind. A happy medium between both. The position was simply tantalizing. With every motion, his pelvis ground against my clit, sending sparks up my spin. Within seconds, I was squirming beneath the hulking man. My nails digging his shoulders and my mouth moaning up a storm. His member was deep and practically digging within me. It was hitting all the right places— he was hitting all the right places. The sickening pace he had set had my legs shaking shortly after our union. My walls pulsed around him, possibly squeezing his haft mercilessly. I was getting wetter by the thrust, practically dripping for him. 

“I’m not going to last long, knight,” I panted, my head falling back on a pillow. 

“Keep squeezing me like this and neither will I,” he replied through gritted teeth. 

Our lips found each other once more. The kiss was sensual and seductive. My body started to lax the more we stayed tangled together. The need for me to grip Logan for stability was no longer. I was perfectly situated on the mattress and the hulky man didn’t complain. He continued to fuck me like the world was ending it that was our last night together. Logan wanted to relish in whatever moment we had together, knowing it could be fleeting. Knowing I could go back with Wade.

A subtle gnawing within my belly started to grow. The pleasure that was steadily growing had reached the rim. A throaty sigh spilled from my lips as I gripped the sheets. I turned my head to the side, unable to sustain the heat of his gaze. Unlike the last two approaches to climax, I couldn’t see through Violet’s eyes, nor feel her pleasure. The simple observation could mean a lot of things. The first being that she no longer wanted to share her sight with me; which was doubtful. Violet was an exhibitionist. She loved to be watched. The second being that she was not engaging in sexual activities. That was severely unlikely. Or the third, she was waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the big reveal. Something that rarely happened.

Like a cup under a faucet, pleasure pushed me over the edge. My body tensed slightly as I felt all the sound drift away from my ears. My eyes squeezed shut and my mouth hung open for a silent scream. My hips met Logan’s thrusts, further grinding my clit into his pelvis. My walls pulsed slowly; clenching his member in long intervals before releasing. My toes curled as my heels dug into the mattress. The breath I was holding came out in a rush as a wheezing sound came from my throat. My womanhood was oozing around Logan’s member, wetting us both, and making a mess beneath my ass. The words “keep going” fell from my lips at some point, but it didn’t register to my ears. 

To his credit, Logan didn’t stop. 

He kept his sensual pace, making the climax feel everlasting. 

It wasn’t until significantly later that I felt his thick cock violently twitch within me. His hips stopped their delectable grinding— moments before thick ropes of cum filled my walls once more. Opening my eyes, I caught the older man engulfed in bliss. Body trembling above mine as his fingers dug deep in the mattress. There was a sorta glow that took over his face, almost making him look ethereal. As his body slowly lost tension, his pinched expression began to relax and his eyes lazily opened. Before slapping open completely. Logan stared at me for a moment, before rearing back, slipping out of me and stumbling off the bed.

Horrified, I gathered the sheets around me and quickly covered my body. I sat up and peered over the bed. Logan’s mouth fell open as we locked eyes once more. He remained motionless on the ground, staring at me wildly. Eyes looking above my head, behind my and then back to my face. 

“What is the matter with you?” I hissed, becoming increasingly annoyed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Your wings are showing, Honey,” Violet’s voice sounded from the doorway. “Along with your halo”.

I reached a hand behind my back and immediately felt soft feathers brush against my palm. “Fuck,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Fuck is right!” Wade exclaimed, pushing past Violet to enter the room. “You’re a fucking angel! Holy shit! Maybe, I shouldn’t have said that. My apologies.” Wade processed to cross himself before pressing his palms in a prayer position. 

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Logan asked, scrambling to his feet. 

“Because everyone I sleep with has the same reaction,” I said, wrapping my sheet tighter against my body. “Unbridled shock and then a devotion to their ‘Lord and Savior’. And besides, I’m still getting used to this development.”

“Used to it?” Violet interjected, once again. “It’s been fifty years! You had more than enough time to get used to it!”

“Fifty years!?” Wade screamed. “How old are you?”

I groaned and shot Violet a nasty look. “125.”

The man looked between both Violet and I, before shooting a look at Logan. “Even with a literal angel in the room, you are still the oldest bastard here. Wow.”

I opened my mouth to ask the most obvious question ever, but Logan’s answer stopped me.

“I’m 167,” he replied in a bored expression.

“Wade is right. You really are an old bastard,” Violet said. As if a lightbulb erupted in her head, her eyes widened and then narrowed menacingly. “What wars did you fight in?”

“Violet!” I exclaimed. 

“You were too young for the Civil War,” she continued. “But, you must’ve fought in the World Wars. So, which side were you on? Matter of fact, where were you during the Civil Rights movement?”

I opened my mouth to object, but decided against it. 

I, too, wanted to know the answer. 

Even Wade was quiet for once. 

“What kind of question is that!” Logan shot to his feet. “Of course, I wouldn’t side with the oppressive regime of 1940s Germany or the segregation of non-white people. I cannot believe you would suggest I would do otherwise!”

“I don’t know,” Violet shrugged. “A lot of immortal men have questionable pasts.”

“She’s right, wolfy,” Wade piped up. “You’d be surprised how many people sided with the south back in the day.”

“And, how old are you, Wade?” I asked, changing the subject.

“45, as of today!” He chirped. “And honestly, this is the best birthday present I could’ve ever gotten! Fucking an angel and a succubus in one day? There is no better way to celebrate.”

“Wait,” Logan turned to me. “You weren’t born an angel. You became one, right? Half a century ago. How did that happen?”

“Well. . .” I looked over at Violet, who made a playful gesture of zipping her lip shut. “When our husband almost killed us, my mother made a bargain with her god to bring me back. In order to do that, he had to split my soul in half: the human side and the demon side. He couldn’t necessarily destroy the demon side, so he allowed it to remain. But, he granted me the status of angel to my human side to save my life.”

“Must be nice to be God’s favorite,” Wade grumbled. 

“You have no idea,” Violet and I said in unison. 

--------

Taglist

@amagaygirl @ficslutt @thabiddie23 @m1sk1n3 @dreaded---existence @collardbysimonriley @lovelymaniat @seasonofthenerd @eat-a-friggin-snickers @blue-rae18 @twinky-wink @bunnybabe-babydoll

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a/n: before you fight me, just know that life has been lifng. I didn’t intend on being gone this long. I'll try to post more often. With that being said, Claggor fic coming soon.

[balrogballs]

The Knotted String

A @whiteoliphaunt gift for @herenortherenearnorfar - featuring Annatar/Celebrimbor, material cultures, closed practices based on Zoroastrianism, not-knowing, and the final days of Eregion. Happy New Year! And thank you so much to @minubell for running this.

The stairs take longer tonight. The stars are mostly hidden, too far to touch. The wind has picked up, and it sends a chill through his wet hair down to the waist. A fever is the last thing Celebrimbor can afford, but one seems inevitable with the way his muscles ache. Celebrimbor does enjoy aches and pains, normally, laurels for his craft. And if he’s being honest, he enjoys them in the gleeful way the Eldar tend to enjoy looking decrepitude in the eye and denying it, point-blank. Still, the stairs take longer.

“What is that?” he is freshly bathed and half-clad when Annatar walks in; tunic strewn on the bed, leggings loose around his waist. “That string.”

Celebrimbor has a circular piece of thick white twine twirled around his fingers, five large knots equally spaced along the string like knucklebones.

“Just a ritual,” he shrugs, as he does each time.

There’s no ritual that really surprises Annatar these days; he has tried most of them, from the first song to whatever they do these days in Lindon. Still, the way the twine wraps around the callouses compels him in a way that does truly surprise him. There’s a strange peace to Celebrimbor here that he has only seen when smithing or fucking, when he’s coiled tight. Usually molten, red-hot purpose rolls off of his shoulders in such thick waves that sometimes Annatar is surprised the elf can ever stand still at all. Fragile, he realises. Celebrimbor only looks like this when he’s holding something he perceives as fragile. Like a mithril-thin ring, or him.

The smith turns from him, begins the evening ritual. The cord unwinds like a hymn, pale and coarse, gleaming faintly with the memory of the fire which blessed it. He loops it around his waist, each turn a tether, lips moving soundlessly. The movements repeat, five times, one for each knucklebone. With the fifth, he passes the cord over his head, bends, brushes the floor with his fingers.

“A prayer, then?” whispers Annatar, when he is done, eyes blown wide, curious. “I have never seen prayer like this.”

“Fëanorian nonsense,” says the smith, his words so soft over the nonsense that it means the opposite, yet so casual with the Fëanorian as to be a deliberate shutting-out. A deliberate shutting out of Annatar.

They look at each other for a long moment, and each second Celebrimbor doesn’t tell him feels like a thin wire pressed into Annatar’s skin. A slit of moonlight peeks through the slats of the balcony, neatly slicing Annatar in two, from a divine thing into two small, envious little poltergeists. Celebrimbor’s jaw clenches.

“You cannot just know everything about my life before you and aside from you,” Celebrimbor says, shrugging. The air has a cold, rusty taste to it all of a sudden, Annatar thinks. “You know that, don’t you? You know me, you know all of me as relates to you. But the things about my life that you do know, I chose to tell you. This knowledge is not yours.”

“It was you who offered yourself to me,” there is a little petulance to the downturn of his lips. Celebrimbor savours it: it’s like smithing, sculpting, casting, his penchant for finding the gremlin within every god. He is Fëanor’s grandson through and through, he supposes, with another smirk that has Annatar’s cheeks flushing with rage at being excluded from.

“Yes. I offer what I offer,” Celebrimbor tucks the knotted string away into some sort of slight-of-hand Annatar cannot follow. Celebrimbor presses a kiss to his lips, like a consolation prize.

Annatar spends months trying to follow the string. Asks him about it, flushed and glistening from pleasure, asks him every day, asks him at last, in the final moments. The last few days, when each knows what the other is and will become, and tries so hard to forget it for just a little longer. He tries too, to follow it in other ways. In books, in whispers, asks around about the cultural practices of the Fëanorians. The way they lay their dead on tall, silent towers for carrion birds to peck at. The fiery, smoky incense they burn for their prayers to Iluvatar. And still, the knotted string remains just that. A thing that might die with Celebrimbor.

“You will not die!” Annatar roars, at the close of it all. He rounds on Celebrimbor like a warg, suddenly close, suddenly burning, wild-eyed, beautiful and furious. A finger held out in front of him as if to force the world into submission, to force Celebrimbor into living for him instead of dying despite him. “I will not lose you — it is out of the question. How dare you ask me — as if you had the right — as if you have the right to ask me to kill you, after you offered me your life — I refuse it! That is within my power, and I will exercise that power as I see fit. As I see fit — not you. You will not die.”

“I offered my life?” Celebrimbor laughs, even now. Somehow it is him who remains calm, not a single molten thing left within him. He shakes his head. “I offered what I offered. And it is not everything. It is not my life. You know that as well as I, that it is not everything, no?”

His waist is exposed, the knotted string looser than it has ever been. Annatar steps forward. Celebrimbor can feel his glowing eyes, heavy on him, like two more swords pinning him to the earth. He can smell his own sweat, the leather of Annatar’s gauntlets, the woodsmoke of Eregion. He smells like what his home was, what it has become now, the beautiful, furious monster it has shifted into. Annatar cannot look at Celebrimbor or he’ll lose control. He’ll claw at his face, kiss him, plunge his last knife between his ribs. Or worse – yes, worse – he’ll cry, soften, he’ll say let us leave. Yes, yes, anything. Yes. Don’t tell me. I don’t need to know. It’s all right. Let us leave, you and I.

Lesser beings allow themselves to be blinded by things. Anger or love or fury or shame. Higher beings are blind with things, chasing mindlessly, embracing unidirectional tunnel-vision. Annatar, personally, is blind with want. He wants Celebrimbor’s balcony, so open and bright and full of the two of them, full of nothing, the broad shoulders turned away from him. Celebrimbor doing his secret thing with the string, locking him out. The way he allows it, despite wanting to know. The way he is blinded by him.

The way Annatar waits patiently outside as he had never done before. The way he counted the seconds while the city walls shrunk little by little, the air thicker, more and more putrid every second, the door left unlocked, escape always possible, leaving Celebrimbor and the rings and the world and declaring himself. Annatar would have the whole world before him, but where would he go? Where else but here? Who else but him?

It is another week before Lord Sauron leaves the burnt-black city of Eregion, a sweat-stained, knotted string curled in his pocket like a sick, sleeping mongrel. He will never know what it was. But he knows what it is now. It is a kiss — a consolation prize, offered up on a balcony, the stars too high up to know that the two of them were standing there that evening, too high up to remember they ever stood there at all.

[artstennisracket]

How about something inspired by the song "Picture you" by chapel roan? Patrick jerking off in a sad, sloppy way after seeing Art's face on some like sport supplies/banners idk

you know how to speak to me because music is my ultimate muse. i hadn’t listened to this song on the album yet but it is very artrick coded. i hope you like it :)

cw: nsfw(18+), masturbation, dacryphillia(maybe? idk)

Honestly Patrick has given up trying to avoid Art and Tashi Donaldson. Art risen in the ranks of the tennis world since finishing at Stanford. It became apparent that Tashi becoming his coach had a big part to play in his success. It was no surprise that they got married shortly after that. They’ve been the ultimate tennis power couple ever since.

If it wasn’t tennis matches on TV, it was adidas commercials. If it wasn’t a billboard, it was a magazine ad. The truth of the matter is, Patrick can’t avoid them. More specifically, Art. He’s the one in all the things, everywhere. He is the athlete after all.

So Patrick shouldn’t be surprised when he walks into Dick’s to buy a new racket and the employee shows him a few different options.

“These are our best rackets.” The employee says, pointing to the only 3 rackets with Art’s face on it.

Now Patrick had been saving up for a while to get a new racket. He wanted to stop playing games and start actually playing tennis again. Real tennis. Not this bullshit he’s been doing these past years.

He still didn’t want to ask his parents for money or a seat on the board so settled for getting a job to somewhat fund his lifestyle. He became a barista at a local coffee shop and picked up shifts when he wasn’t playing tennis.

He wanted a good racket, one that would last him a long time. He wanted the best of the best, a Wilson Blade 98. Art Donaldson just so happens to be sponsored by Wilson. So who else would be the face of their pro tennis racket line?

Patrick follows the employee to the front register where he purchases his new Wilson racket that has Art’s face all over it.

He makes it back to his tiny show box apartment. It was all he could afford in this expensive ass city. He takes his shoes off and starts putting his stuff away.

He decides to take a shower. Afterwards he comes out the bathroom and closes the blinds in his rooms and lights his favorite candle. What he can’t like a little ambiance? There was also a lingering smell in his apartment since he took too long to take out the garbage today. He then lays down onto his bed. He’s staring up at the ceiling really contemplating his life. How different his life would’ve been if he listened to Tashi? If she never got injured that day? He thinks about that last part alot. He always wishes he was still in their lives.

Especially Art.

He was Art’s best friend for so long he forgot who he was before Art. They did everything together. And Patrick was in love with him from the day they met. That’s what made fighting over Tashi that much hotter (harder).

He looks over at the kitchen table, since his studio apartment is so tiny. That’s where he placed his new racket, Art’s face staring right back at him. Fuck why does he still look so good after all these years, if no better.

He looks so mature now, like a real adult. He’s completely grown into his adult muscular build thanks to all that tennis. He wasn’t the same scrawny shy blonde kid Patrick met over a decade ago now.

Patrick doesn’t think twice bringing his hand to his semi-hard dick, palming himself over his boxer briefs.

Fuck Art looks good. Really fucking good. Patrick closes his eyes to recall the last tennis match of Art’s he watched. It was on the tennis channel.

Art was wearing those short white tennis shorts and matching polo (thank you uniqlo) and he looked fucking delectable. Patrick would bend him over right on that tennis court in front of everyone, show them who Art really belongs too.

Patrick was full on touching himself now, jerking off at full pace. This is so fucked. Why is he jerking off to his childhood best friend?

Art has always looked good and this isn’t the first time Patrick’s jerked off to him and it probably won’t be the last. Patrick would do anything to see Art again, give himself another chance. He knows what him and Art had was real even if Art couldn’t see past his internalized homophobia at the time. Fuck, he wants to get on his knees and suck Art’s cock so bad, letting Art’s length hit the back of throat.

He wonders is Art still thinks of him, of the time they jerked off together. He wonders if Art thinks of him when he sleeps with Tashi. Or maybe when Tashi uses her strap on Art. Maybe she pulls his hair and asks who he’s really thinking about. And maybe he’d moan “Patrick” before even realizing what he’s saying.

Patrick feels the tears running down his face before his brain can register that he’s crying. He cums shortly after that but the tears don’t stop. He misses Art, he really does. He used to play tennis with Art in person, watch all Art’s matches in person. Now he has to settle for a TV screen. Just lurking from afar.

He feels like Art’s completely grown up and he doesn’t even know him anymore. He wonders if Art still thinks about him. Or if Art felt the same.

I guess he’ll never know.

[aryomengrande]

fuck if it's him, this love tv gonna hit real different for me

[curiositykilledtheradiostar]

HEY WHY THE FUCK DID NO ONE TELL ME WICKED IS GOOD

[jlf23tumble]

Are you suggesting that music labels don’t use bots for promotion. I think we know they do both on social media and on streaming platforms. Most people choose music from the music that is shoved in front of their faces whether on traditional or new forms of media. A song might not go viral even if the label invests resources in it but it would be rare for a song to viral if they didn’t. Harry isn’t the biggest selling 1D member by accident. Sony invested a shit load in promoting his music.

omgggggggggggggggggggggggggg, do I wish hosepipe suckers in the 1d fandom consumed media from literally anywhere else at least once a fortnight or whatever, jesus fucking wept. This smells like some kind of sad, bitter louie hours, but I'll ignore the bad faith read here and play ball. Yes, labels DO use bots and whatever else they can to boost numbers (see: poor Tate McRae, if you need something in the Harry Styles orbit that's floppin', lorde knows Jeff is TRYIN'), but to paraphrase UMG on this one, fans choose the music they want to hear, and this ask reads like someone who doesn't get how big Not Like Us is. People love to scream A-MINERRR every goddamned time it comes on (it's me, I'm people), we're ready to scream it at the Superbowl, he played that song x5 at the Forum one night in June, and it went off every single time, there are examples galore of marching bands playing it, kids living in the worst hell on earth playing it, wedding receptions workin' it, the list goes on, it's a global phenomenon, this isn't Watermelon Sugar being forced down our throats via Lisa Rinna's shitty dancing, lmao. This was the FOURTH dis track Kendrick released in the span of eight weeks, it's just the one that stuck--and I would argue it stuck because a) it's catchy and b) black celebs were using it in workout vids on tiktok, I don't remember UMG doing jackshit about it, let's just say it wasn't coming up in the grocery store. And if UMG was gonna push his music with bots, why were they waiting for shot #4? Euphoria is right there!

[hiswrlds]

-stares down a him- "why are you blue?"

“ Why are the sea & sky blue ? ” He starts off the a light & playful tone of someone asking about the obvious .  But that's not really the case with his answer, and he makes sure to quickly clarify, waving dismissively before she could answer .  “ Don't answer that, we all know why - But it could've have been any color, right ?  And it still chose to be blue, for a reason . ”

“ Well I like to believe the same applies to me . ”

[dankovskaya]

HERE TO STAY

DEAD BODIES EVERYWHERE

GOT THE LIFE

ITS ON

ADIDAS

BLIND

GOOD GOD

START THE HEALING

TWIST

SHOOTS AND LADDERS

MAKE ME BAD

OILDALE

Y'ALL WANT A SINGLE

CLOWN

BALL TONGUE

FALLING AWAY FROM ME

FREAK ON A LEASH

[jemmo]

just to let you know i will be leaving this mortal plain as of right now and going to a place of eternal nothingness.

taylor swift just did all my favourite songs as mash ups for the surprise songs… the show after i went.

[mooseonahunt]

Looking at my year in music and I am surprised that Welcome To Valdelobos by Alita Nightsbane was in my Top 20 tracks while not a single FOB song made it.

[thenamessparkplug]

love this website <33

(its here if you wanna give it a shot)

[icharchivist]

hey remember when i left those tags on that post?

i still don’t want to talk about what the work of fiction is but i legit just got reminded today that while it’s been like over 15 years that i did want to check this thing, the character that “caught my interest like 7 years ago” actually caught my interest 12 years ago. As in, there was a specific moment in time when i wanted to get into it because i learnt about the character in question.

i’ve been in hysterics for the past ten minutes because i’m realizing it’s been over a decade that once in a while i had humored starting this thing, and that while it definitely started out of another place, it’s been 12 years that steadily it was because this character was standing out to me enough that i wanted to get into it, but then forgot all about it, and now i’m out there actually getting into it after a *dream that came out of nowhere about this chara popping up while i haven’t thought of them in years* and i’m just. 

bestfriendo is making fun of me because “this is the most slowburn in all of history of fav characters” and i’m screaming into my hands, imagine considering getting into something for OVER A DECADE while constantly one character keeps standing out for you and eventually you just get a dream out of nowhere of this chara like a sudden “hey. I’ve been sending you messages about it for the past decade why the fuck are you leaving me on read” and now you’re not only forced to pay attention but also forced to realize YOU COULD HAVE STARTED ALL OF THAT OVER TEN YEARS AGO i’m feeling so unwell.

[suck-my-figurative-dick]

Here’s summertime from last year in montreal. I intentionally didn’t want to be on my phone as much as possible but now a year out I’m glad I took a few videos cause it’s making me grin sooo much looking back on them!!! Bang of all time!!!!