#tub drain stuck

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ safe haven — levi ackerman

summary: all you've ever wanted to do was take care of levi.

contents: fem!reader, established relationship, 18+ mdni, baths, fluff, soft!levi, light angst, takes place in early seasons, love, handjobs but the smut is very brief and not graphic — 2.1k

notes. i am so emotional about him

the bathroom door opens, cracks of light filtering through the shadowy space, causing beams to bounce off the soapy water. you don’t hear levi enter, but you feel him, just as you’ve always been able to.

he’s so silent, so careful as he steps, like he’s still expecting a titan to be around the corner at any moment, even when he’s home safe and sound. 

the door shuts, and the flash of yellow fades, the room glowing only by the few candles you have lit around the tub. 

levi says nothing, and you finally open your eyes, lazily trace your gaze across his frame, blurred by the grainy vision of darkness. he’s still wearing his uniform, the straps tight across his chest, though he’s already removing his cape, the emerald, billowing cloth resting loosely in his arms. 

there are swirls of dark colors on his face, deep scarlet cuts and blackened violet bruises. his hair falls over his forehead, thick strands stuck to his forehead from sweat and grime. the shadows under his eyes have only gotten worse, his cheekbones more prominent under his pale skin. 

“levi,” you say, in a voice that’s barely above a whisper, hesitant to break the peaceful silence. 

he glances over, severe blue eyes softening as they take in your relaxed form, glistening under the soapy water. your head rests on your forearms, and you gaze up at him from under wet lashes, the droplets of water sticking to each one. 

for a moment, he says nothing, contemplating as he gazes at you silently. then, he takes a step forward, kneels down to cup your cheek softly, a version of him no one else has ever seen emerging in the comfort of the darkness. 

you lean into his palm, his long, slender fingers rough and callused from all of the fighting. though there’s a comfort in that, in knowing that despite all he’s been through, all that the both of you have been through, you’ve made it home to one another. 

“sorry, the meeting ran late.” he says, studying you before tracing his thumb over your lips, watching the delicate skin bend with the pressure. “some people don’t know how to stop running their mouth.” 

you exhale a short breath, something akin to a laugh, and tug on his wrist, your hand soaking the sleeve of his white button-up. “come get in the bath with me.” 

levi makes a face at you, yanking his wrist loose from your grasp as he reclaims it for himself. “not after you’ve just washed off three days worth of grime. you’re sitting a tub of filth.”

“it’s clean, levi,” you sigh, sitting up so you can reach over the side of the tub for him once more. “i drew another bath, just for you.” 

a snort leaves him, but when he glances back over, he’s distracted by the droplets of water running over your chest, down the soft mounds of your exposed breasts. “i’m sure your intentions were nothing but pure,” levi remarks, but he’s already tugging at the leather straps that support the odm gear, unbuttoning his shirt. 

you laugh, and relax back into the tub as levi folds his clothes up neatly into a pile, despite needing to wash them later. his arms flex as he pulls at the straps of his boots, plains of corded muscles exposed from years of training. 

it’s stupid, really, that levi can’t see how beautiful he is, how he is a work of art, molded from the hands of gods. though they have treated him kindly in appearance, their generosity did not extend to other areas of his life. you try to remind him every day that he is loved, even if he is still uncomfortable about it, if he still shies away when you spout sappy, emotional words at him. 

levi dips a finger into the bath, testing the water, before he climbs in, the tension draining from his shoulders as he sinks into the tub. you’re upon him in an instance, maneuvering him so that he is between your softer thighs, his scarred, tense back on full display. 

“what are you doing?” levi asks, the words leaving him with a sigh as you trace his biceps, muscular and lean, a testament to the fact that levi is the strongest. 

“i’m washing your hair,” you say, but you focus instead on kissing his spine, dragging your fingertips across his hips. 

levi grabs your wrist, yanks hard, before his grip loosens. he twines his fingers with yours, peering over his shoulder so that your eyes meet.

“after all that work to get me naked, you won’t even let me kiss you.” 

you laugh, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades as he presses circles into your palm, relaxing the tendons. “you’ll get a kiss eventually.” 

levi huffs, but releases you, and lets you do as you please. you spill water over his head, the droplets running down the planes of his back, his dark hair turning an even deeper shade of black. 

as his breathing evens out, he grabs your knee under the water, lifting it so he can run a delicate touch down your calf. although, it’s soothing, distracting, you still manage to focus on massaging the soap into his scalp, the strands untangling as you run your hands through them. 

levi hums and leans further into you. it reminds you so much of a cat; he will always shirk away from affection, but he hate it even more when you stop giving it to him. 

you dig your fingers into the base of his skill, releasing the pressure there before massaging his shoulders. fists roam down his back, kneading out the muscles that so rarely get a break. the facade he puts on as captain of the survey corps fades away, and he becomes a softer version of himself, one who is still afraid to love but has always yearned for it even more. 

your hand drifts around him, around his waist, before you reach for his cock under the water, stroking it firmly as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

a stuttered exhale emerges from his chest. “what happened to pure motives?” he snorts, but his eyes flutter closed as you feel him grow harder in your palm.

you kiss his shoulder, up his neck, smiling against his skin. “i just can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

levi huffs out a sound of amusement, and though you can’t see his face, you don’t need to, to know that he is rolling his eyes. “you still haven’t let me give you a kiss,” he says, and you laugh into his back, feeling careless and happy and so full of love for the man who doesn’t let anyone treat him gently but you. 

“fine.” you sit straighter, lean forward so that your lips are the only thing levi sees when he turns his head. you curl them into a gentle smile, pucker them foolishly, but all of his attention is already on you. he craves you so deeply, he doesn’t bother to offer a snarky retort.

levi shifts into you, puffs of air leaving his lips before he kisses you, blue eyes a smokey color, grey with desire. he swipes his tongue along your mouth, tasting the soap that lingers on your skin, devouring you whole. while he kisses you, you stroke your hand up and down his cock, listening to the little sounds that leave his throat, the hoarseness that grows in his voice. 

it doesn’t take much to get levi to turn to putty in your hands; he hides his lust well, his devotion for you, but it is there nonetheless. perhaps he is a strong soldier, but he is a weak man when it comes to the affection of those who love him. 

“fuck,” levi mutters into your mouth, swallowing down his groans as you swipe a finger over his slit. he’s close, obviously so, and you run your other hand up his stomach, feel the ridges of his abdomen that are tense, even under the warm water. “feel so good,” he rasps, lazily kissing across your face. “you’re so pretty.” 

you smile, preening from the compliments that don’t come often, but are always so genuine. 

levi rests his forehead against yours and spills into your hand a moment later, his breathing off-kilter.

there is darkness in his stormy irises, but it clears around you, and that’s all you want, really; to be able to free levi of everything that plagues his mind, if only for a fleeting moment. 

he says your name, whispers it into lips that catch it, the word like honey in his deep voice. 

“hm?” you close you eyes, hearing the soft sounds of his breathing, the heart that beats beneath his ribcage. and it will continue to beat, until you can fight no longer, because you’ll never let a titan or anything else take him away from you.

levi cups your cheek once more, traces his thumb softly across the harsh bones. “you do know i love you… right?” 

the admission of affection catches you off guard. he’s said it before, but he uses it sparingly, and that’s always been okay with you. you know he is afraid of what might happen to you, and you know him too well to try and convince him otherwise. 

“i know. i’ve always know,” you say, kissing him again softly, his lips warm and plump. “you don’t have to tell me.” 

disbelief contorts his face, his dark eyebrows pinching together as he studies you. though you aren’t always the best at convincing him, you stroke his arm, massaging the muscles that are perpetually tense. it’s difficult to avoid the smattering of tender bruises that he can no longer hide under the military uniform. 

“i’m afraid i’m not good at showing it,” levi admits, and you soften, watching as uncertainty infiltrates his normally steadfast eyes. “but i hope—”

“levi,” you say, and you know the tenderness of it makes him cringe, but you can’t help it, not when your heart aches at every moment for the man before you. “just because you don’t show your love in the same way as me, doesn’t mean that i don’t feel it.” 

he stares, blinks once before nodding, letting the words seep into his soul. even though you know it won’t be the last time he admits his self-doubt, you don’t mind reassuring him. you’ll tell him as many times as it takes, repeat the words every moment you’re together for the rest of eternity, if only to make him realize how loved you feel by him. 

you lean back in the tub, your fingers wrinkled and pruned from sitting in the water for so long. but when you try to climb out, levi grabs you wrist once more, stops you with a gentle touch, and guides you back into him. 

his arms wrap around you tightly, nearly crushing your naked, warm bodies together with the force of his embrace. though he not one to let his vulnerabilities show, he still buries his head into your shoulder, lets you see how weary and broken down he has become. 

your nose digs into his dark, wet hair, the scent of shampoo lingering as you melt into him, hugging him back as closely. tension that you hadn’t realized you were hanging onto finally drains from your body, and you feel lighter than you have in days. as if your body has, at last, realized that you are no longer outside of the walls, and this is not a dream, but you truly are home, safe and sound. 

his fingers dig into your back, and you rest against him, never able to resist a moment wrapped up in his arms. 

levi sighs, dragging his nose across his neck. the water will turn cold soon, but you don’t mind. you’ll do whatever levi needs, wait here with him until you are both a shivering mess. 

“i’m glad you’re here,” levi says, just above a whisper as he kisses your collarbone. 

you smile. it’s not exactly another i love you, but you know that’s what he means.

[kingkatsuki]

Thinking about Bakugou who hates when you shower after sex. Because to him it feels like you’re washing the scent of him off your skin, and wasting the copious amounts of spunk that now disappear down the drain. Cleaning your body with that expensive body scrub that has him going insane as he watches you clean away every bit of evidence that he was balls deep inside you barely ten minutes ago. If he had it his way you’d keep his cum buried deep inside you, clinging to your silky walls as a reminder that every inch of you is his. Your body doused in the lingering scent of his cologne, sweat and his quirk to ensure that if anyone dared to get too close they’d know exactly what it meant.

Which is why Bakugou loves when you use his deodorant, shampoo, shower gel or creams because it means you’ll smell like him for the rest of the day. Silently letting everyone know that you belong to him without having to say a word, the scent of him lingering on your skin as a deadly reminder to anyone that you have a man at home.

He’ll never admit to hiding your products, or dousing his own body in a little too much of your fruity body scrub or vanilla cream after a shower. Not that he minds, he loves the scent of you lingering on his skin too— just enough to have his cock half mast as he wraps a palm doused with your fruity shower gel around his length.

Hearing you shout at him from the bedroom when you’ve just waddled into the bathroom after sex that— “it’s so expensive Katsuki, you used all of it!” So now you have no choice but to use his instead. Picking up your deodorant to put it into his gym bag before you notice so you’re forced to spray yourself with his musky scent.

Offering to help cream your soft body when you step out of the shower dressed in nothing but a fluffy towel, perching your foot on his thigh so he can caress his cream into your skin. Peppering apologetic kisses against your skin as he promises to buy you more, while simultaneously breathing in the scent of him mixed with you.

But that doesn’t mean Bakugou is any better— Bakugou loves being surrounded in the scent of you too.

You’ve lost count of the number of times he’s returned home battered and bruised, covered in a thick layer of sweat and grime as he begs you to run him a bath— because somehow your baths are always better than his. Coaxing you into the tub behind him as he surrounds himself in the scent of you.

He’s shameless after sex, refusing to shower as he watches you disappear into the bathroom, wanting to keep the lingering scent of you stuck to his skin for as long as possible. Only joining you in the shower when the thought of you naked, wet and soapy is too much to bear.

He doesn’t even care when he pulls out a bottle of your fruity gels at the agency when he takes a long shower, listening to his friends and sidekicks mocking him for using such ‘girly’ products. Because how could he care when he smells like you.

[incorrectbatfam]

Bruce goes to meet the other fathers? Have a barbecue with Clark, Oliver, Berry and talk about their kids?

"Damian told me that I was cool, it's been a while since one of my kids told me that" or "Mia is doing so well at school these days"

those moments when they are all (old men) father proud of the mess the kids are?

The dads: *lounging on beach chairs*

Clark: It's nice to finally get a day off. I think Jon needed it more than me. He's still reeling from growing up and suddenly turning back into a kid again.

Ollie: How'd that happen, anyway?

Duke, walking by: That's just this blog.

Clark: What?

Duke: Nothing. Hey, B, can we use the jacuzzi?

Bruce: Sure, go ahead.

Duke: *gives Emiko a thumbs up*

Emiko: *drains the jacuzzi*

Harper and Cullen: *start cleaning the pipes*

Ollie: I know how you feel, Clark. Roy's the happiest I've seen him with Lian back but it's still a big change. We're working on getting her enrolled in school this fall so she can catch up on what she's missed.

Roy: *sprays the tub with disinfectant*

Jason: *dries it with a leaf blower*

Hal: Speaking of changes, Jaime graduated with honors. I know he's not my kid but I can't help but feel like a proud uncle. Kyle got a new concept artist job, by the way, and I think he really likes it.

Jaime: *turns the jacuzzi back on*

Kyle: *sets up folding tables*

Barry, chuckling: Bart tried to enter a marathon the other day.

Clark: Kon wanted to pay money to go skydiving. I don't get it.

Aquaman: I remember when Kaldur joined an amateur scuba class at that age. Perhaps it's an attempt to feel more human.

Bruce: It's easy for us to forget sometimes too.

Kon, carrying a giant pot: Boiling hot soup, coming through!

Kon: *pours it into the jacuzzi*

Cass: *adds spices*

Tim, with a clipboard: One down, eleven more to go. Bart, stop eating the ingredients.

Bart: It's just tofu.

Tim: That's for Damian. What's he gonna do now, starve?

Bruce: Dick's been coming home more often lately. I can tell Alfred's really happy when he sees us all together.

Dick: *drapes tablecloths over the tables*

Wally: *sets up plates*

Steve, walking in: Mind if I join? Diana's running a little late so she sent me and the girls ahead.

Clark: Of course, feel free.

Donna, holding a basket: Where do these vegetables go?

Barbara: I'll take them. Could one of you get some spoons from the kitchen?

Cassie: On it.

Steve: So where are all the ladies?

Bruce: They're in the living room. Selina's showing off her latest... um... collection. Alfred has tea in the kitchen if you want some.

Steve: Don't mind if I do.

Yara: Should I put the meat in now?

Jon: One sec.

Jon: *scoops some soup aside*

Jon: You're good now. I just needed a vegetarian portion for Dami.

Kon: MORE SOUP COMING!

Ollie: Honestly, I'm surprised everyone's doing fairly well given the industry we're in.

Steph, leading a crowd into the yard: And here's where our main event will be.

Bette: *checking names off a guest list*

Bette: That's almost everyone. Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter are gonna be a little late. Avery's on a mission in Shanghai so she can't make it. Beast Boy and Raven stopped to buy desserts. And the We Are Robin kids just got stuck on a stalled subway train but they should be here pretty soon.

Clark: I think it's a matter of good mentorship and giving them plenty of time and space to get acclimated to the superhero lifestyle.

Jesse: *making lemonade*

Ace: *fills the coolers with ice*

Garth and Kaldur: *handing out drinks*

Barry: And giving them plenty of room to grow at their own pace.

Hal: Very true.

Bruce, sighing contently: You can't help but be proud of them.

The kids, chanting: HOT POT! HOT POT!

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good to Say Goodbye

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing, Hurt/Comfort & Implied Smut, MAJOR TW: stillborn

Summary: Y/N is tired of constantly being dissed by Logan and he doesn't seem to care, at least not until it's too late.

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I Part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

instagram

I clasp my jacket closer to my body as I wait for Logan to open the door of our shared apartment. It's pouring rain and my dumbass forgot the keys, I sigh as I pull my phone out, dialing my lovers number.

one ring

two rings

three rings

four- declined.

*new text from "Logie Bear🐻💙"*

Logie Bear🐻💙: Babe I'm on the sim, give me a few.

Me: I'm out here in the pouring rain and I left my key, You said you'd unlock the door 5 minutes ago.

Logie Bear🐻💙: You fucking made me crash.

Logie Bear🐻💙: I'm coming.

A scoff leaves my lips as I shove my phone into my soak jean pockets that stuck to my skin, a few minutes later I hear the lock click and the door swigs open revealing a less than happy Logan.

"Damn, were you watching our home videos while waiting for me to open the door?" Logan laughed as he took in a soaked me before side stepping so I could walk in.

"I've been outside for 10 fucking minutes in the pouring rain Logan and you're making jokes?" I almost screamed at him

Unbelievable, all I do for him and this is how he treats me?

"Woah babe, take a joke," Logan starts before his phone starts ringing "Yeah? Oh for sure, right now? Uh huh, Okay I'll hop on. Yup yup, just give me 5. I'm grabbing a snack" with that Logan hung up the phone "I'm hoping back on the sim with the boys, so just take a shower and dry the floors, you're ruining the wood."

I wanted to scream, I'm ruining the floors? I wouldn't be ruining the floors if you would've opened the door 10 minutes ago like you fucking said you would.

I made my way into our shared room, grabbing my clothes and speaker before making my way to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, I connected my phone to the speaker and started playing "Hold Me While You Wait" by Lewis Capaldi on a low volume before stripping out of the soaking wet clothes that stuck to my skin.

My shaking hand turned the tap to hot as the water started spurting out of the shower head, which made me sigh thinking about the shower head I gave Logan every time we showered together. Today makes 3 weeks since we last fucked, and that was also probably why I'm so aggravated at everything he does. All this pent up sexual tension between us is driving me crazy.

Before stepping into the now steamy shower I turned the volume up on the song currently playing. Once in the tub, I let all my problems wash off of me and down the drain as I let the boiling hot water hit my skin. After what felt like 3 minutes of pure bliss, I hear a faint knock at the door before hearing it open. Peaking my head out the shower curtain I'm greeted by Logan just standing by the door.

"Hey Logie, care to join me?" I said in a low & seductive voice, watching as he steps fully into the bathroom and closes the door. A victory smile makes its way on my lips as I pull myself behind the curtain once more, quickly lathering myself in foamy soap.

I can hear Logans footsteps getting closer to the shower, but instead of getting in I hear him pick up my phone, turn the volume down, set my phone back down and as he's leaving he mutters "Not tonight. Boys are on the game and i can’t focus on them because your depressing songs are too loud."

Are you fucking kidding me?

That had been my last straw. In one quick movement I turn off the shower, throw my robe on and march out of the bathroom and into his sim room.

"Are you fucking kidding me Logan?!" I shout as a burst in the room, face red from anger. I can hear a mix of muffled oohs, laughs and you're in trouble. I couldn't bring myself to care about anyone on the sim with him.

"Hey! I'm on the sim! Watch your tone!" Logan shouted back, earning him a glare that said turn your fucking simulator off now.

"We're gonna have a serious talk. Now" I said in a stern voice. That made Logan turn the game off and actually face me

"What the fuck do you want to talk about that you bust into my sim room and interrupt me when I'm on with my friends WHO HAPPEN TO BE A COWORKERS?!" Logan shouted, his beautiful face now a shade of red that no-one liked, his eyes as cold and sharp as ice.

“I WANT TO TALK ABOUT YOU. YOURE BEHAVIOR, THE WAY YOU’VE BEEN ACTING TOWARDS ME, THE WAY YOU DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME ANYMORE, DO YOU EVEN STILL FUCKING LOVE ME?!” I tried to stop, I really did but all the anger built up inside of me over the last few weeks just started pouring out “WHATS BEEN GOING ON WITH YOU LOGAN? YOU’RE NOT YOURSELF AND ITS EFFECTING ME, YOU KEEP SHUTTING ME OUT, AND MAKING ME FEEL BAD ABOUT MYSELF! AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU ANYMORE? HUH!?” the more I screamed at him and the more I cried, I saw not one bit of remorse in his eyes.

“Are you fucking done being dramatic now?” Logan says with a scoff “Nothing is fucking wrong with me. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you’re the problem? No, you haven’t because you think so highly of yourself. You think that you’re the fucking shit and you’re not!” his words hit me like a punch to the gut.

the tears welling up in my eyes, now falling like heavy rain down my face. “You’re not the Logan I fell in love with,” my breath shaky “I don’t know who you are. I want my Logan back. I want the Logan who came to all my wrestling matches, the Logan who regularly took me out on dates despite his hectic work schedule, I want my Logan who got mad at me when I paid for dinner because ‘it’s a man’s job to pay for his girls meal’, the Logan who always took me to his races and showed me off like I was a rare jewel he found,” the waterfall beneath my eyes couldn’t stop me from staring into his soul while i said this last part “I miss my Logan who stood by me when we had our miscarriage” That seemed to get a reaction out of him.

“You have the fucking nerve to bring up MY baby. Don’t you EVER bring up MY baby like that again. You HAVE NO RIGHT.” Logan said tearing up

“YOURE BABY? HE WAS MINE TOO. IT WASNT JUST YOU THAT LOST A BABY, IT WAS ME TOO. HOW DO YOU THINK I FELT PUSHING OUT OUR BABY KNOWING HE WAS DEAD? I WANTED TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF LOGAN. I FELT LIKE I FUCKING FAILED YOU AND OUR SON.”

“MAYBE YOU FUCKING SHOULD’VE KILLED YOURSELF. HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF THAT?! IF YOU KILLED YOURSELF I’D BE SO MUCH BETTER OFF.” a sob escaped my lips as Logan finishes talking. “You act like I can’t find someone else, like I can’t impregnate another woman. You’re nothing but another piece of ass to me, that couldn’t fucking keep my son alive in you.”

Logan storms out of the room, slamming the door as he goes.

“Well, I’m so glad you told me this now because I’d HATE for our DAUGHTER to be in a house where her dad thinks so lowly of her mother!” I scream while I barge into our shared room, grabbing a suitcase and filling it up with all my shit I can fit in it.

Soft footsteps make their way to the room, stopping just before the door. Slowly I hear the door open and see Logan slowly walking in.

“what did you say?” he asks me in disbelief “did you say ‘Our Daughter’?”

“YEAH IM FUCKING PREGNANT AGAIN BUT SINCE IM JUST ANOTHER PIECE OF ASS TO YOU, IM FUCKING LEAVING AND YOURE NOT GONNA FUCKING SEE HER.” I yell, closing up the suitcase and heading for the door before feeling a tug on my wrist

“no baby, please. I’m sorry, i’m so sorry. let me make it all up to you and be in her life. i’ll change, I’ll be better, I’ll do anything to get you back.” tearing now streaming down Logan face

“I’ll be back in the morning to get the rest of my shit.” I said before tugging my wrist back and slamming the door shut behind me.

pt2 maybe?

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed !!

@forevercaffeinated-lee

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSesvRpKqBaYY-Ow5IgHoD0gSX6OzJ03qGMXOhHUI6Xg1wfKaA/viewform

[moonstruckme]

Hey lovely! I saw you wanted some doctor rem requests, so I was wondering if you could possibly write something where the Remus wakes up in the middle of the night because the reader has a fever and is burning up right next to her, and he gets up and takes care of her, puts her in a cool bath to cool down and then reads to her to get her to sleep. Just a bunch of fluff haha 💕

Thank you for requesting my love !

cw: non-sexual nudity

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 834 words

It’s not uncommon for Remus to get too warm in the middle of the night. He’s always careful to flip just his part of the covers off, sticking an arm and a leg out without exposing you to the cool air. It is unusual for the heat not to be coming off of his own body.

Remus rolls over, feeling for you without opening his eyes. The temperature under the covers increases before he’s even touching you, emanating from your skin and heating the space around you. He opens his eyes. 

You’re curled up tight, one hand trapped underneath your cheek, blankets pulled up to your chin like you’re chilled instead of burning. Your brow is puckered as though you’re concentrating hard on something in your unconscious, and you don’t rouse when the bed creaks as Remus gets up. 

He plugs the drain in the tub and turns on the tap, feeling for the right temperature before leaving it to fill.

“Sweetheart.” It’s one part exhaustion and two parts love, sleep still clinging to the edges of his voice. You don’t stir in the slightest when Remus touches your shoulder, worrying in itself. 

It takes a few gentle shakes to do it, and you’re none too happy to be woken. Remus can’t help his small smile at your sleepy frown. 

“Your fever’s gotten worse,” he tells you, stroking the baby hairs at your temple. “I’m starting you a bath, okay?” 

You close your eyes, reluctant. “Can it wait ‘til morning?” 

Remus slips a hand beneath your shoulders and brushes his lips under your eye. “Afraid not, lovely girl. Do you need help getting up?” 

He has to smother a grin when you react just as he predicted, grumbling and crawling out of bed. Still, you don’t reject the arm he wraps around your waist to guide you into the bathroom. Your skin is clammy under his hand, and you lean into his side like you weigh more than you did yesterday. 

“Is your head still bothering you?” he asks while you strip out of your pajamas. 

“A little,” you say, your words soft and stuck together by drowsiness. “Not as bad as yesterday. What time s’it?” 

“It’s early yet.” Remus wraps his arms around your shoulders, kissing your nape as he encourages you closer to the tub. “We’ll go back to bed as soon as we get you cooled down. You can sleep in as late as you want.” 

“You’ll make me think I’m dreaming,” you tease. But your smile vanishes as soon as you set a toe into the bathwater. “Rem, it’s cold.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He smiles, rueful, when you look betrayed. “Like I said, we’ve got to get your temperature down. Your body will adjust.” 

“You’re supposed to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you mutter, but take the hand he offers you to step into the tub. 

A couple of little shivers tremble through you. Remus stays, stroking the lines of your palm, until your taut muscles start to relax and you let your body unspool in the cool water. Then he goes to get you fever reducers. 

He’s not gone long, but you look as though you’ve nearly fallen asleep again in his absence. You’re curled loosely on your side, one cheek resting on the porcelain lip of the tub with your hands folded under it. The arcs of your shoulders are shiny wet, and your lashes droop as if drawn towards their other halves by magnets. 

When Remus sits on the bathmat, you raise your eyes up to his lazily. His reaction is predictable: fondness that sticks in the back of his throat and nestles into the space behind his sternum. 

“Better now?” he asks, and his voice is soft for reasons he doesn’t entirely understand. It’s an instinct, as if to protect some precious part of you that might still be slumbering. 

You hum. “A little.” 

He holds up the water and tablets. “Think you can sit up to take these?” 

Those pretty eyes roll skyward at the question, and you do, finishing the water without him needing to ask and murmuring a thanks when you’re done. Remus sets the empty cup on the floor. He dips a hand into the bathwater, cupping some and spilling it down your back. Not strictly necessary, perhaps, but it’s nice for him and you don’t seem to mind. Your eyes slip closed again. Remus follows the path of the water with his hand, coasting between your shoulder blades and down the curvature of your spine. Your skin is still warm to the touch, but he thinks there’s been some improvement. 

“Don’t fall asleep here,” he murmurs. Your eyes peel open again. “I’m just giving it a few minutes before I check your fever, and then we can go back to bed.” 

“I’m gonna sleep all tomorrow,” you sigh. 

He smiles. “If that’s what you want.” 

You hum satisfiedly. “Will you sleep in with me? Please?” 

Remus huffs a laugh. “Sure, sweetheart. Twist my arm.” 

[miguelhugger2099]

I need soft Miggy so maybe some aftercare with him? Like after a rough fucking session and he makes sure you feel loved

Love Between

started ripping my hair out chewing on iron bars i just KNOW his love language is acts of service like fanfiction isnt enough i need to experience this man in the flesh thank you for the request ! i hope its up to your standards! as alwayssss i can always remake this once my requests open up if you're not satisfied :)

Miguel x Reader, Fluff, Brief mentions of smut, Not proofread, Word Count: 1,361

Miguel tightens his hold on your hips, his teeth buried in your neck while his hips slowly came to a stop. He let go of your neck, his lips brushing against the bite mark he’d given you. He helped you release your legs around his waist, gently placing them back down on the bed. Miguel pulled out of you, pressing soft kisses along your neck and jaw when you whined.

“I’ve got you, mama.” He whispers, his hands gently caressing your thighs to ease the feeling back into your legs. “You did so good.”

You blink up at him, your vision slowly coming back after a dazing session. You could barely feel your body, legs numb and your chest heaving up and down in deep breaths. You feel Miguel’s hands rubbing up and down your waist.

“You okay?” He asks sweetly, pecking your nose and cheeks. You nod and mumble.

“Uh-huh…” You close your eyes, completely drained and spent. Luckily, Miguel had prepared beforehand and grabbed a towel from the nightstand. When you two decided to be a bit more rougher this time around, he knew he had to be prepared to love and pamper you since his stamina was much higher than yours.

He helped spread your legs apart to clean up the cum that had spilled out of you. “Do you want take out or do you want me to cook something?” He asks, taking glances up at you. You mumble your answer that was borderline incoherent but he understood you easily. “Take-out it is.”

Miguel then tosses the soiled towel to the hamper and slides in his boxers. He then scoops you up in his arms and you snuggle in his warmth. He kisses your head and leads you to the bathroom. He plops you down on the toilet and turns on the tub faucet to fill the tub up with warm water.

Miguel takes you in his arms again and helps you inside the warm tub, quickly filling it with bubbles. You gained a bit of your strength back, leaning against him while he cleaned your body up with a nice smelling soap. You looked up at him with a soft smile, watching him work on you with care. He meets your eyes and gives you a small smile of his own. You pucker your lips, a silent plea for a kiss and he chuckles. Leaning down, he meets your lips with his in a tender kiss.

Satisfied, you lean back on him again and play with the bubbles, already starting to feel the effects of the warm water making you sleepy. Miguel’s hands–which were groping and kneading your hips and ass moments before–were gently grazing over the small bruises on your skin. His thumb caressing the bite marks of his teeth and the sore spots where he held onto you desperately. He made sure to massage those specific places, wanting you good as new.

“What do you wanna order? Pizza, some fast food, or maybe something from that small restaurant we go to?” Miguel pulls you out of your sleepy state. He brushes back your hair, his hands wet so some strands get stuck to his fingers.

“Hmmm. I don’t care.” You murmur with a shrug of your shoulders. You reach up to his face, the water dripping off your arms and you cup his cheeks. He gazes down at you lovingly.

“Okay.” He replies. He knows you want something specific.

Miguel runs his hand in the water after a few minutes of cleaning and massaging you. “Alright. The water’s getting cold. I’ll be right back, nena.” He murmurs and kisses you before getting up on his feet and walking out the bathroom. He picks up his phone and places an order at one of your favorite places–one you haven’t had in a minute so he decided to spoil you with it this time.

He heads to the laundry room where warm towels had been sitting in the dryer earlier. He snags one and walks back into the bathroom where his heart stutters seeing you put your hair up with a claw clip. Water droplets down your back and arms, glistening on your neck in the warm lighting.

“Can you stand for me, mama?” He sets the towel aside and offers both his hands for you to take. You nod and take his hands, Miguel hauling you up from the tub and it swishes loudly from the sudden momentum. You step onto the floor mat and Miguel wraps the warm towel around you. You clutch onto the towel and he brings you in his arms. For a few moments, Miguel just holds you in a big warm bear hug, peppering a few kisses to the side of your head.

He picks you up bridal style again, refusing to let you walk, and plops you back into bed. He kisses your forehead and heads off to rummage through your drawers to find you some fuzzy pajamas. You watch him with a smile, your heart swelling as he takes care of you down to the tiniest details. You were clean and loved while Miguel worked hard to make sure you were relaxed.

Miguel comes back with folded pajamas in one hand and your slippers in his other.  He places the slippers down and takes the towel from you to dry off any remaining drops of water. He kneels in front of you to help slip on a clean pair of panties on you as well as the pajama pants. Meanwhile, you picked up the shirt that was from the pile, noticing how it was just Miguel’s shirt and you smiled while putting it over your head.

He looked up at you, his eyes brighter seeing you glow and look cute in his shirt. He takes your hand and kisses it before joining you in bed by wrapping his arms around you and pushing you back on the bed. Miguel snuggled himself back to the crook of your neck and your arms went around his shoulders. He pulls the weighted blanket over you two for extra warmth.

Despite his shirt drowning you in the fabric, his hands ran up and down the sides of your body to feel your skin. “You were great, baby.” He mutters against your skin and you chuckle.

“It was fun. Rate me out of ten.” You smile and curl your fingers in his hair, nuzzling against him. You feel his shoulder shake with the rumble of his deep laugh.

“I’m not rating you. If anything, you should rate me. How did I do? Are you okay? Did everything feel good?” He asks, lifting himself off from your neck and brings a hand up to caress your cheek.

You nod, your eyes sparkling and heart fluttering at the memory. “Really good.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“In the best way possible.”

Miguel playfully bites your cheek and you giggle, turning away from him but he tightens his grip around you to keep you near.

His hands rub up and down your back and you look down to meet his eyes. He moves closer so that your foreheads touch, noses grazing each other. You close your eyes with a soft smile, basking in the presence of Miguel. He keeps his eyes open, admiring the way your eyes flutter under your eyelids, eyelashes long and pretty. He glanced down at the marks on your neck and his hand went down to hold your thigh, bringing it around him. He wondered how many marks would appear in the next twenty four hours.

“I love you.” He whispers and it makes you open your eyes. He’s staring intently up at you, a certain softness to it while he gazes into your soul. You felt vulnerable. He felt vulnerable too. It was moments like this that mattered most.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, shifting yourself so that you could cuddle into his chest. You feel him adjust to the new position, his arms going around your shoulder this time as if protecting you. His hand rises to your hair, his nails gently scratching your scalp.

“I love you more.”

A/N: god if ur real, you'll send miguel o'hara on my doorstep ASAP

[starzblvd]

Pampering your girlfriend to a soothing bath after a rough day from summers scorching heat then letting her use your hand to get herself off <33

an: modern!ellie, college!ellie, gf!ellie, got this idea while doing my extra long everything shower which originally just started off as fluff but yk, was supposed to post this like 2 weeks ago but then I got slumped with other stuff..anyways Ellie refers to you as angel because I love the pet name so much 🩷

Disgustingly hot was what the temperature is around this time of summer. The heat suffocating you immediately after stepping outside. Ellie curses herself on the drive home when the ac of her red 1989 Ford F-250 decided to stop working on one of the summers hottest days. Hot weather called for a hot tempered Ellie, god it’s the afternoon and it’s still this fucking hot.

She’d walk out of her car with an angry pout of a scowl irritated of the stickiness the sweat induced during her drive home to your shared apartment. Ellie’s skin was covered in a glossy sheen when she’d reach the door, whole day she was stuck dealing with the blistering heat with her lecture halls ac coincidentally broke down too. If one thing were to piss her off in this state she’d be ready to pull a hissy fit. She knocked with urgency to get the relief of cold air, a minute passed and another knock perused, two more minutes and she’s calling out your name slightly banging the door. Ellie reaches for her key from her back pocket jamming the key in loudly when you unlock it before she does greeting her wearing an apologetic smile, “didn’t mean to keep you out, was just fixing a bath for you”

You’d known she was beat from how hot she was the entire day by the spam of texts complaining about everything and anything “I hate this chair it’s so uncomfortable” or “can he talk any fucking faster so we can leave”

Ellie couldn’t be mad when you’d been so sweet waiting for her to come back, letting her shoulders drop their stiff lock allowing you to walk her away the shutting door. “You didn’t have to do all that, im just glad to even get outside that godman place, seriously how do all ac’s suddenly get an idea to break down today,”

You’d notice the glowing gleam layer of sweat she walked in with, after she’s pulling you into her gentle embrace contrasting her tone and expression

“but thank you angel, always so sweet to me”

She was tired and so was her voice, raspier than her typical tone. Couldn’t just leave her in her own when she’s so drained,

“let me do the work for you today”

Ellie’s eyebrows lifted confused to what you’re suggesting but follows your trail nonetheless, as your girlfriend she trusts you.

“just sit down and I’ll bathe you, you know?” You take your seat on the edge of the tub looking at her with such an adoring expression she didn’t hesitate to strip and climb into the tub. Her hair was tied back in effort to combat the heat, you take out the hair tie allowing her hair to fall for you to use a container to pour water over her. A giggle escapes her lips when she shuts her eyes from the water.

She enjoyed how dotting you were to her, enjoyed with the way your fingers move in little circles on her scalp messaging in the lathering shampoo, the little kiss you placed on her forehead after rinsing the pine lavender scented conditioner out.

“We should do this more often, like way more often,” Ellie was completely aloof getting taken care of and content with how loving your touch was, almost made her feel a bit guilty for the idea that was looming over her now, almost. “Yeah?” It’d feel just as peaceful for you to care for her. Reaching over for the body wash Ellie’s hand grasps onto your wrist, wet with small bubbles mixed in from the shampoo.

“you wouldn’t mind for me to use your hand a bit would you angel?” Her voice was softer now, any pent up irritation had washed away by now, looking to you with her slight smirk, the same smirk that’d leave your stomach coiling itself up knowing she only had this look when she’d have another one of her ideas.

“Go ahead,”

Still puzzled she lowers your hand to the water guiding your hand to touch the toned muscles of her torso that stiffed with anticipation. Your touch never failed to excite her no matter how long you’ve been together. Noticing the limpness of your hand Ellie spoke up in type of whisper,

“you can tell me to stop”

Taking the hint of what she was insinuating you slowly shift your fingers open to glide your touch over her warm body,

“No no, I want to keep going,”

You’d coo with all the reassurance she needed. Dragging your hand further down, she caressed the sides of her lips with your finger tips feeling the shock it brung earning a small grunt from her slowly teasing her entrance. Spreading her legs further apart Ellie’s hand adjusted your middle and ring finger onto her exposed folds to start some friction easily sliding them up and down with the mix of her slick and water. All you’d hear was the slow sloshing of water and the small whimpers she muffled through her lips.

She kept her eyes closed concentrating on getting to her high using you. Ellie guides your fingers to soothe her puffy clit only being met with your resistance holding her back, instead to run your fingers anywhere else but her clit.

“thought you were supposed to be helping me,” Ellie let’s out grunting into your ear.

despite her efforts to move you onto her ache you keep prodding her folds, writhing from your neglectful touch, she was so needy for you every second you denied her a rub to give her the release she chased for.

“Thought I was the one supposed to be doing the work for you tonight.”

Ellie was growing tired of the lack of attention she was desperate for, she shoved the two fingers down plunging them inside her, her lips parted allowing her sweet moans to fill the room and your ears.

“we both know you could be doing a better job at that right now angel.”

She couldn’t help herself pushing you deeper into her to touch the spot that always had her unfolding below you. Making her hand jerk faster to pump your fingers quicker to speed up she’d be getting closer to the orgasm her body was pleading for.

“Since you’re so pretty like this I guess I can try harder,” you smiled looking at how the muscles of her arm flexed each time she’d move in and out, you keep your open hand busy by gently rubbing her shoulder whilst bringing your underwater thumb to her clit pressing into her before finally giving in and pacing it into circles.

“cmon cmon cmon, keep going angel please”

Begging and unraveling right before you with a final fast pump and stroke to her clit Ellie’s back straightened and curved into an all familiar arch. Her eyes harshly shutting closed but you wanted to see the eyes you loved so much, lifting the hand from her shoulder to her jaw pulling her face to yours, Ellie’s still wanning off her orgasm by drowning her pace down until she’s finally done sliding you out from herself.

She brought your hand back to surface embracing your hard working fingers with a kiss keeping her hold onto you as Ellie slides down into the tub to just the point where her neck starts.

“you can finish your job now,” she was smiling looking forward to the next time.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

I'm imagining reader and Dad!Steve having to wrangle a toddler who likes taking off after bath time before they can dress her lol, she's a free spirit!

dad!steve harrington x fem!reader

You and Steve were both depleted of energy and motivation as you watched your daughter run - somewhat unsteadily - and completely naked, down the hall.

Both of you were slumped in various states of dishevelment on the bathroom floor. Steve was leaning against the slowly draining tub, the smell of lavender bubbles still in the air, the empty shampoo bottle mocking you from the floor as the front label claimed to make your baby ‘sleepy for bedtime!’

Margot was anything but as she stumbled down the hallway, bare feet stomping on the carpet, leftover bubbles still clinging to her water warm skin, droplets dripping down her chubby tummy. Her hair was soaked, curls stuck to her forehead at all angles and even though you couldn’t see her face, her wild cackles were enough to let you know she was having the time of her life.

You were against the sink unit with a soaked pyjama shirt as you eyed your partner tiredly. Margot was ambling into her nursery now, naked as the day she was born, ready to pull apart the toy box you’d not long put back together.

You nudged Steve’s leg with your toes. “Tag. You’re it.”

He snorted, eyes as heavy and tired as your own. His own socked feet came to push under your thighs, nudging at you with a thick affection you could feel even through such a causal touch. “What happens if we just— let her tire herself out?”

You smiled, head tipping back against the cupboard doors. The bathroom was still warm with leftover steam, the crackle of popping foam at the bottom of the now empty tub and the soft light above the vanity all made for a pleasant place to rest, hard tiles and all.

“It’s been—“ you checked the pretend watch on your wrist and Steve was already grinning before you spoke again. “—twenty eight months and I don’t think that’s happened yet.”

He hummed, head lolling forward until the scruff on his chin knocked into his chest. If you weren’t so aware of your babbling daughter from the other room, you would’ve clambered into his lap happily. “Knew we shouldn’t have thrown away the instructions,” Steve mumbled. “We never did find her off switch.”

You snorted, easily amused when sleep was hard to find and you were letting Steve pull you to your feet before you knew he’d even stood. The bathroom floor was a mess of puddles and half soaked towels and it was a chore finding one dry enough to entrap Margot in. But together, you and Steve stumbled down the hall in a way that wasn’t far off your toddlers drunken amble, shoulders knocking into each other and the walls before you both reached her room.

Buried in the large basket you used for her toys, Margot was grinning, curls damp and mussed, her pyjama shirt rumpled around her shoulders and backwards, but she looked pleased to have attempted it herself.

Leaning against Steve, who was leaning against the doorframe, he wrapped his arms around your waist as you both watched your daughter poke at her teddy bears nose. Eyes soft with sleepiness and adoration, you tucked your nose into the man’s chest.

It rumbled under you as he spoke, his voice wonderfully rough as he tried to keep himself awake, his hands soothing up and down your spine. “How long ‘til she pees on Mr Quackers?”

[fandomfucker]

Hey can you please write a story for me about the reader wanting to please her self well Rhea was on the plane coming home from a show. But when Rhea comes home she finds you breaking one of the rules and intense to push you.

Bonus: could the reader give Rhea some Messy oral. 

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT!! (oral, bondage, handcuffs, usage of strap-on, dildo, slight praise and degradation)

Word Count: 2,427

Reader's POV

It had been a long day, with a lot of pent-up stress and frustration. Not to mention, I had been sexually frustrated for the whole two weeks my girlfriend has been away now.

Rhea had a rule though, I could touch myself, but under no circumstances was I allowed to fill myself with anything. That was for her and her only. As far as rules go it was a pretty mild one.

I generally didn't do much of anything without her anyway and she knew that so the rules were pretty lax, but tonight just seemed like it would be one of those nights.

Getting home from work, I immediately threw my shoes towards the closet, too tired to even bother throwing them inside. My purse was placed on the counter as I happily greeted the dogs.

Having made sure that the pups were happily fed I then walked towards the master bath, deciding that a nice hot bath would do wonders.

Smelling salts, bubbles, music, and candles set the mood for me as I settled in. Closing my eyes I hummed along to the lyrics of whatever Motionless in White song was quietly playing as I thought of my girlfriend.

She was supposed to be back earlier this afternoon but had gotten held up with some work thing and now wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow or possibly the day after and I was tired of waiting.

Sliding a hand up my stomach and over the mound of my breast I gently toyed with a nipple. My other hand roamed over my thigh, drawing circles on the inside with my thumb just like Rhea would normally do.

My core began to ache and I craved my toys, which were only second best but better than nothing.

Hastily climbing out of the tub and pulling the plug for the water to drain, I dried myself off (taking care to blow out the candles) before making my way to my and Rhea's shared bedroom.

I walked over to the giant dresser, squatting down to open up the bottom drawer filled with toys.

Eventually, I landed on 'fuck the rule' and picked out a medium-sized purple dildo. It wasn't my favorite, but it would have to do until Rhea came back with her strap-on and fingers.

Feeling a little bit adventurous now, I walked over to the big mirror hanging on the wall in front of the throne in our bedroom.

Getting down on my knees, I used the suction cup on the bottom of the dildo and stuck it to the mirror.

I began to gently stroke the purple dildo before taking it into my mouth, coating it in my own saliva. I pulled back, spitting on it before massaging the spit around its girth.

Reaching down between my legs, I traced the lips of my pussy before moving inwards and beginning to rub my clit.

I thought of Rhea and how she would look between my legs, watching me get wetter and wetter for her as I got off to her. How her lips would feel on the inside of my thigh, coating me in black lipstick after winning a match.

Beginning to feel my wetness drip down my leg I turned myself away from the mirror and backed up into it, looking back just long enough to direct the dildo's tip to my entrance. I rocked back on my knees and seated myself on it.

I had now officially broken Rhea's rule but it felt so good that I couldn't just stop now.

I fucked myself on the mirror as I switched between massaging my clit and my nipples. I was beginning to feel the familiar tightening in my gut. I was so close. I kept my eyes on the carpet below me as I began to pant slightly, a light sheen coating my skin.

Suddenly my head was jerked backward, towards the sky, by the roots of my hair. My eyes watered from the slight burning pain. But there, in all her glory, stood my pissed-off girlfriend.

Immediately I stopped in my tracks, my face dropped and lost all its color. I was so fucked, and not in a good way.

"H-hey, babe." I smiled nervously up at her. She wasn't supposed to be there for at least another few hours.

"What are you doing?" She asked me rhetorically, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

"Nothing." I tried nonchalantly. Much to my dismay, as I said that a large droplet of my secretion slid down around the dildo, which was still fake balls deep inside of me, and hit the floor.

Unfortunately, because of just how smart I am having chosen a mirror, Rhea managed to get both a front and back row seat to just how wet I was.

Squatting down to be eye level with me, Rhea dropped the handful of hair she had fisted, now opting to grab my chin instead.

"I thought we'd talked about this." She chided disapprovingly.

I pretended to think about it for a second before innocently responding, "You know, we might've. Probably just slipped my mind."

Not liking this answer, she gripped my shoulders and pulled me away from the mirror, dislodging the dildo from my pussy where it had so graciously set up camp while I talked with Rhea.

I moaned as it slid out, slapping against the mirror wetly as it dripped with my lube. Missing its warmth I looked up at Rhea, pleading with my eyes.

"Nuh-uh." She tutted me. "You know the rules."

Sliding her hand up the back of my neck, she grabbed a fistful of hair at the roots and dragged me towards her, forcing me to stand up.

Now standing on my feet, my legs were shaking terribly. To the point where it was extremely noticeable and drew Rhea's attention.

Looking down at my trembling limbs, a small smirk grew on her face. She gently kicked one of my feet, telling me to spread my legs apart.

I did as she told me and spread my legs. I could feel my secretion, (only made worse by Rhea) as it slid between the folds of my pussy, dripping down onto the floor.

"You're such a slut. Now, is that for Mami? Or is it for that filthy cock?" Rhea growled at me, tugging my head back to look her in the eye.

I whimpered quietly in pain before answering her, "For you, Mami. Only and always you."

Rhea grinned at me and slid her hand from the roots of my hair to my neck, gripping it like a vice. Guiding me by my neck, she turned us around and walked me backward towards the bed.

The backs of my legs hit the bedframe, stopping me in my tracks as I slightly bent backward as Rhea kept coming closer.

Looking me up and down, Rhea reached her other hand up and placed it just below my belly button. Taking her time, she slid her hand further up my stomach, stopping just below my ribs before pushing me down to lay on my back on the bed.

She then tapped my knee, motioning that she wanted me further up on the bed. I followed suit, scooting up towards the top of the bed, and laying my head at the bottom of the pillows.

Rhea began to undress, never breaking her eye contact with me as she did so. She slipped off her shirt and shorts before dropping her panties, leaving her lacy black bra on.

Getting up onto the bed on her knees, she crawled forward so that she was above me. Her hands lay just above my shoulders holding her up as my hips lay between her knees.

"Since you're just so eager to please yourself, you're going to have to wait now. I'm going first." Rhea spoke lowly.

I nodded hungrily as I tried my best to maintain eye contact and keep my hands to myself.

The only thing I liked more than my own orgasms were hers, and I'd do anything to be the one giving them to her.

"Please Mami, let me pleasure you," I begged, just wanting to taste her.

Rhea ran her tongue along the edges of her teeth in thought before patting my cheek in approval.

Grabbing the pillow that was just above my head, she threw it to the floor so that there wouldn't be as many obstacles before crawling up the bed, her wet pussy now just inches from my face as she held herself above me.

"And what do you do if you need to breathe?" Rhea asked me, demanding that I answer before we keep going. She could be cruel sometimes but safety was important to her.

"Tap twice."

"Good girl," she purred, her knees sliding apart as she dropped down onto my face. My hands immediately came up to grip her tatted thighs, holding on like they were my lifeline as hers went into my hair.

I breathed in her scent as I immediately stuck my tongue out, lapping at her wetness. My nose rubbed up against her clit, causing her to moan and grip my hair harder, only encouraging me.

Wanting to please her, I stuck my tongue into her pussy and began thrusting in and out, faster and harder each time. My left hand gripped her thigh for leverage as I brought my right hand to her clit, switching between gentle and rough.

I was starting to run out of air but I'd rather die than be pulled away from her. Luckily, I could tell she was close and thrust my tongue even faster, adding in two fingers as my thumb continued to massage her clit.

Hitting her climax, Rhea exploded all over my face, her legs shaking and tightening around my head as I continued to gently lap at her, helping her ride it out.

She laid back on my stomach, her head on my thighs as I continued cleaning her up. She spread her legs further apart to give me some room to finally breathe as she caught her own breath.

I could both see and feel the strings of her cum as she was pulled away from my lips. Her having left my face a sticky mess of pleasure.

Deciding that she was clean enough, Rhea rolled off of me to sit on her knees next to my stomach.

A look of contemplation came over her face before she got up and walked over to the drawer of toys.

I lifted my head to see what she was grabbing but she was intentionally blocking my view to prevent me from doing just that.

I laid my head back down and waited for her to come back. And when she did, she held a pair of purple fuzzy handcuffs.

Smiling devilishly, she secured each of my hands into a cuff above my head before tying each of my feet to the end pillars of the bed frame using the rope that was permanently situated there.

As much as I was growing nervous as she continued tying me up, I grew excited too.

I was already so close to orgasming that just a single sensual touch from her would send me over at this point.

Hell, just having her come multiple times on or by me would make me come myself, no touches required.

Finally securing the ropes to where she wanted them, Rhea looked up at me, grinning as she saw the growing discomfort on my face.

"Use your words, Princess." She teased as she trailed the tips of her fingernails across the inside of my thigh, tracing circles as she went higher.

"Mami, please. Please, fuck me Mami." I pleaded hungrily.

I made grabby hands from where my wrists were cuffed above my head, motioning to her that I wanted her bra off.

She chuckled lowly before reaching back and unclasping it, sensually slipping it over her breasts and down her stomach before tossing it over her shoulder to the floor.

"Mami, you're teasing." I groaned in impatience and wiggled around for just the slightest bit of friction at this point.

She gripped my hip, hard, to stop me from moving, her other hand taking hold of my throat.

"No, I'm not." She stated gruffly as she harshly inserted her ring and middle finger into me with the hand that was previously holding my hip.

I gasped as her fingers entered me and immediately began pumping at a quickened pace.

Her fingers mercilessly pounded in and out of me, my gasping and whimpering only encouraging Rhea to add another finger, going even harder and faster.

She never failed to make me a writhing, moaning mess. And I was so close. "Mami, please. I'm almost there." I moaned, begging her.

Suddenly, Rhea fully stopped everything she was doing and pulled her fingers out of me. I whined at the loss of contact after being so fucking close to coming and looked at her in confusion and desperation.

"What? You didn't really think you'd get away that easy did you?" She questioned me. "Close your eyes."

Begrudgingly, I did as she said and closed my eyes. Not two minutes later I felt her hoist up my legs by the back of my thighs, along with her using her fingers to slightly stretch my opening again. 

My eyes flew open as I felt something much bigger than her fingers be inserted into me. I looked to where Rhea was and my mouth watered as I saw her kneeling in front of me, my legs propped around her hips, on the bed, wearing her strap-on. I threw my head back, closing my eyes in ecstasy as she tore into me, fucking me hard and fast with her strap. 

"Mami, I'm close," I whined. I always had to have her permission to come and I was ready and wanting.

Rhea smirked at me as she picked up the pace, bringing one of her hands up to massage my clit. "Go ahead, Sweetheart." With the added stimulation on my clit I came almost immediately after being given permission. My legs shook violently as Rhea slowed down a bit, helping me ride it out. I gasped for air as my orgasm ripped it out of my lungs.

She began to untie my legs before climbing on top of me to undo the handcuffs.

I stared up at her in awe as she did so, still trying to catch my breath.

She noticed my staring and got off me, opting to sit next to me instead. Brushing a piece of hair off my sticky forehead she leaned down, mere centimeters from my lips. "If you're going to pleasure yourself when I'm not home, at least next time facetime me. Yeah?"

I nodded my head at her, agreeing to anything and everything she could ever say, relishing in the sweet kiss she gave me in response. Maybe I should break the rules more often.

[moongreenlight]

Nanny!Reader x John Price hnnnnngh

Tw/Cw: Cheating, mentions of drug use and abuse.

@ceilidho put the words ‘marriage kink’ and ‘ambiguous gray blob wife’ into my head and it has been eating away at my psyche for DAYS.

The Maddie from Euphoria of it all, honestly.

Getting the job through a Craigslist ad because it pays better than some of the office jobs you’d been perusing and it comes with free housing and a car to use? It’s a no brainer.

The kids are alright. Spoiled, but not entirely obnoxious. They’re school-age, so you really only deal with them for breakfast and a few hours after school. Their mother is absent. Some sort of philanthropist who travels for work and prefers to jet-set instead of sitting home. Their father is lovely. Truly picture perfect.

He only brought you on because he couldn’t step away from work, and he wouldn’t hear of sending his children to some daycare. Too impersonal. He prefers to get to know the person raising his cubs. He’s sweet like that.

John doesn’t expect much of you. Decently tidy house. Well-tended kin. A pot of coffee in the morning before he’s off to work, and a hot supper if he’s home late.

Leaves you to your own devices while the kids are at school. What’s his is yours. At first, you mainly stuck to your quarters and the living room, but after so long, you got a little lax.

Started wandering the house. Awfully fucking big for a philanthropist and a military man with three kids, but you’re not one to speculate. You try out the hot tub. The jacuzzi bath in the primary en-suite bathroom. The home gym in the basement.

Even that gets boring after some time. Too routine. So you get adventurous. Get your paws on the mother's medicine cabinet. Take a cocktail of her nearly expired prescriptions and take a few hours to yourself in the bath.

You must have fallen asleep, because the snap of a door closing makes you jerk your head up off the cold rim of the tub.

"Hello?" You're trying to figure out who exactly would be home. Scrambling to yank the plug out of the drain with one hand and track down your phone with the other. Suddenly very worried you slept through school pickup.

But when your pruny fingers finally swatted at the screen hard enough, you were grateful to see you'd only really dozed off for twenty minutes or so. Still no response even though you were fairly certain you heard the door come from somewhere upstairs with you.

"Someone home?"

The drain was loud. A dead giveaway of your neglecting your job. Gargling as it sucked away the evidence of your lavender-scented bath. What's worse? You'd forgotten a towel. Mind fogged by some desperate housewives-adjacent combination of stimulants and muscle relaxers.

You nudged the bathroom door open with a dripping wet toe, poked your head out to see what was going on. Seeing nobody, you decided that maybe you were just hearing things. Just the house settling.

So you inched forward, cringing at the trail of wet footprints you were leaving on the carpet of John's bedroom floor. You made a mental note to tidy those somehow before you went to get the kids. It wasn't until you were out on the walk over the living room that you heard someone clearing their throat in the kitchen.

It made you whirl your head around, scrambling to cover your modesty as best you could. Maybe it was a contractor? John had a bad habit of not reminding you that his buddies were coming over to do some project or another.

"That how you dress when you've got the place to yourself?"

You wouldn't be so lucky.

"J-John?"

A chuff from just beyond the wall downstairs. Strategically positioning himself where he could see, but wouldn't be seen.

"I-I didn't know you'd be home. God- I'm so sorry."

You weren't sure if it was better to run to your room or stay where you were. This was uncharted waters, after all.

A tsk, like he was sucking his teeth to keep the smile from creeping into his voice.

"In my room?"

Your mouth is painfully dry. You can't even manage to swallow.

"I'm so sorry, John. So sorry."

"Why don't you dry off and then we'll chat?"

[starphasedd]

lessons

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

rating: 18+ (nsfw)

notes: who doesn't love a good bathroom counter fuck? 🫣 this one is short! But I hope everyone likes it. 💜

Ao3

Today was one of those days.

As a woman, you inherently had those days. The days where nothing seems to go right and you immediately subconsciously blame everything on yourself.

The days where your confidence drops to zero.

The days where you can't seem to do anything right.

And the most frustrating thing of all, is how you seem to always have those days when you're with Ghost.

Long story short--you fucked up today. And it directly affected your colleague. When everything was said and done, the chopper ride back to the base eerily silent. Not a peep from your friend.

And once you arrived, he disembarked without a word, large boots clumping heavily down the metal gangplank of the aircraft.

Ghost wasn't a particularly chatty person, but he always talked to you. Even if it were just a few encouraging words after a hard mission. He always made sure you knew he appreciated you. And after some of your intimate encounters in the past, you liked to think he saw you as more than a friend or colleague. But today, that couldn't seem further from the truth.

Nonetheless, you let it be.

You immediately went to your room and stripped all your dirty clothes. You were covered in dirt and blood--not your own blood, which made it more disgusting. If possible. Mud was smeared all over your face, and your greasy hair stuck to the side of your neck like you had some kind of hair treatment slick in it.

A deep groan escaped your mouth when you finally stepped under the warm stream of water. All the memories from the day slowly drained down the tub as you washed yourself clean.

When finished, feeling squeaky clean, you stepped out into the misty room. The mirror was fogged completely. The air smelled pleasantly of lavender and salon brand shampoo. When you stepped onto the rug, the fabric immediately started soaking up the water on your feet. You grabbed the towel hanging on the rack next to you and slowly began towling off.

Once you finished, you walked to the counter where you had placed a fresh pair of panties and your favorite oversized tee. You made no rush at pulling your panties up to sit tightly on your ass, and then you dropped the shirt over your wet hair, letting the fabric stick to your soft skin. The shirt was big--came down just to the bottom of your waist. It covered most of your ass, but some still peeked out underneath.

The cotton fabric began to stick to your naked breasts--perked nipples starting to show through. You paid this no mind as you began to brush the wet tangles from your hair.

Memories from your embarrassing behavior today began to invade your mind in the silence of this room as you brushed the tangles from your hair. You huff, closing your eyes to concentrate as the brush comes to a stop mid-way through this stroke.

"Stop it." You hush yourself.

"Beatin' yourself up?" A deep boisterous voice slams you back to reality.

You jump slightly and shoot around to where the voice came from. Your heart is about to pop out of your chest. It's then that you see Simon standing tall in the doorway of your private bathroom. He's stripped of his gear, only left in his jeans and his black hoodie. He's leaning against one side of the doorway, his large arms crossed over his chest as he examines you.

"Christ, Simon--" you say, exasperated. "--what are you doin'?"

He cocks his head to the other side.

"What are you doin'?" He asks in rebuttal.

You watch him for a few seconds before huffing and crossing your arms over your chest to mimic him.

"I'm taking a shower. What does it look like I'm doin'?" You fire back.

"Looks like you're havin' some kind of mental battle with yourself to me." He says softly. His deep baritone sends chills down your spine.

Your arms loosen as you lock eyes with him. A sigh eventually escapes your lips. You turn back around to avoid his gaze and face the mirror. You continue what you were doing before.

"M'fine. Just--" you sigh.

"You're beatin' yourself up over today." He answers for you.

You sigh again, leaning down and placing both hands on the counter as you drop your head. You don't need to say anything--he knows.

You feel a sudden warmth approach you from behind, and you feel his large hands start to snake around your waist. He palms you--his thumbs digging into your lower back to message you there.

"Shit happens." He says softly from behind you.

You sigh again.

"I know, but--" you say, groaning when he pushes down on your lower back, making you arch. "--I-I know better. It shouldn't have happened--"

"But it did." He says, one of his large hands beginning to trail up your spine to attach to the back of your neck. "Which sucks. But you owned up to it. And recognized you made a mistake. Shit happens."

He words soothe you--relax you. And it's then that you notice his clothed erection pressed to the inside of your thigh. He's pushing on your ass with his hips in a slow, almost unnoticeable thrusting motion. The hand on your hip starts to slip under your shirt to lift and make your ass visible to him.

You blush, and huff out a nervous laugh.

"You still want me after my fuck up today?"

This time, he thrusts into your ass hard. You can feel the arousal starting to pool in your underwear as the hand on your neck moves to grip your shoulder for leverage.

"Course I still want ya. Did good today." He groans out.

"Wha--what?" You ask, feeling his fingers slip under the band of your panties to pull them down.

He can't hold in a groan at the sweet sight of your dripping pussy once he gets your panties down. Fresh from a steamy shower. You can hear him start to fumble with the zipper on his jeans.

"Can the explanation wait, luv? Want this sweet pussy, now." He says, impatience heavy in his tone.

You moan when you feel the tip of his cock press into your tight entrance. And you bite your lip in anticipation--only for him to stop.

"Yes or no, luv?" He asks.

Fuck, you love when he asks nicely. He has every right to take what he wants at any given moment. He knows you'd never turn him down--but he always insists on asking first.

"Fuck--yes, Simon. Please..."

It's not often that Simon's so impatient for sex that he doesn't prepare you first. He's large, and he knows you often need something to help the adjustment. But today, his desires outweigh his patience. And you're ready for it.

You spent all day wondering if he was mad at you. It's very clear now that he's not. The breath is stolen from your lungs as he plunges in deep, all the way to the end. His hips make contact with your ass and the head of his cock breaches your cervix. You whimper loudly for him.

His hands anchor on your hips as he begins setting a brutal and needy pace. You can't help but fall to your elbows and drop your forehead to the counter as he ravages you from behind. His thick fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he fucks you in earnest.

Your toes curl and your knees buckle as the brutal pace he sets brings your orgasm awkwardly fast. The string in your lower belly is pulling tight as heat creeps its way into your lower back.

"Good girl." He encourages, heavy breaths and deep groans escaping his chest as he fucks you hard. "So good."

Your moans are getting caught in your throat as his heavy thrusts bare down on you. It's almost overwhelming.

"C'mon." He grits through his teeth, hips slapping hard against your ass as he fucks clear up into your cervix.

"Simon--" You whimper. He squeezes your hips in response.

"Thas it. C'mon." He encourages.

You start to tighten around him. When his hips stutter, his fingers dig in deeper, and he throws his head back--you all but cry like a child and cum hard around his cock. He stutters again, grunting when your walls start to pulse around him.

He grunts your name a few times, praising your sweet core, your kushy and comfortable ass, and your beautiful moans.

Of course, he wasn't far behind you. After only a few more thrusts, he's bearing down on your hips and filling you to the point of leakage. His seed starts to leak, trailing down your thighs until it pools on the floor at your feet.

He leans down over you, supporting his weight on the counters as he breaths heavily into your ear.

You shuffle a little, pressing your back up into his chest. A large hand comes around to press on your lower belly where his cock still sits.

"Feel me clear up in here, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck.

You whimper his name, fingers sliding over to touch that hand of his that rests on the counter next to you.

"Enough. Gonna get us caught." You laugh softly.

He grunts.

"You think that's gonna stop me?"

You sigh. "Nope."

He presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. "Smart girl."

He removes himself from you, but not completely leaving before he cleans you of his arousal.

As he's fixing his jeans, you turn to look at him.

"What did you mean? By 'did good'?"

He glances down at you for a few moments while he pulls his zipper up. Then a large hand comes up to gently caress your chin. He makes you look at him.

"I meant you did good." He says gently, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "It was an honest mistake. Not even the most honorable of men can admit they did wrong, but you did."

You watch him softly.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. We all make mistakes. Next time, you'll know better."

A soft smile crosses your cheeks as you nod softly in his palm.

You blush when he leans down and softly places a clothed kiss to your cheek through his mask.

"Now get dressed. Supper time soon."

"Yes sir." You say with a smile.

[hypnolurker]

We All Moo For Ice Cream

It all started in the supermarket. Clara wheeled her trolley steadily through the endless aisles in her regular search for groceries. When she got to the frozen section, she recalled the recent hot and sweaty summer nights which had left her exasperated and drained. Here, she saw something both delicious and which could potentially provide a respite from the unbearable temperatures – ice cream. She eyed the various flavours and brands for a while, but one particular brand stuck out to her. The horny cow. Each tub had a picture of a cartoon cow with exaggerated horns and a visibly excited expression. They also featured rather odd flavour names, possibly copying the more popular Ben and Jerry’s practice of odd flavour names, but these were just even more confusing. ‘Big and Milky’, ‘Cow Feed’, ‘Soft and Serve’...what on earth were these crazy flavours?

However, all of Clara’s doubts were assuaged by the one all important factor, price. There was some kind of sale on horny cow ice cream and she could get 3 large tubs for the price of 1. Plus the price of a single tub was already stunningly cheap relative to the other brands. It may be some inferior knock off, but with this deal she had to at least give it a try! Clara decided to purchase one of each sort, since she had the 3 for 1 deal on her side, and chucked them into her trolley with a shrug. She would certainly be well stocked on ice cream for these hot summer days to come!

It was later that day when she actually tried the product. After shopping and some cleaning up she decided she had earned a rest and put on a classic old movie. Something she had seen many times before but it didn’t matter in the slightest. And what better reward to go with her film than some ice cream? She was only in a pair of shorts and a thin white t-shirt but she was still overheating and something cold and creamy was exactly what she needed.

She settled in on the couch and began watching as she opened up the tub. She still didn’t know what the flavours meant, so she picked one at random. Soft and Serve. It seemed the most normal sounding, and as she popped off the lid she could see the familiar light yellowish tint of a typical vanilla soft serve. Her spoon slid easily into the fluffy frozen treat and she brought it up to her lips with mild trepidation.

Moment of truth, it was cheap but was it bad? No! As she felt the soft cream melt into her tongue a charming burst of vanilla spread across her mouth and she gave a pleasant sigh as she swallowed happily. It was fantastic!

She gobbled down scoop after scoop as she watched her movie. Despite vanilla typically being a ‘boring’ flavour, this was anything but. It had the perfect balance of rich creaminess and sweet vanilla essence and she hungrily swallowed it down. She was eating it so fast that she experienced something that hadn’t happened since she was a child. Brain freeze.

As she shoveled spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth eagerly, she started to feel a cool tingle spread through her mouth and shoot through her teeth and up her face until it hit her head. She honestly couldn’t remember quite what brain freeze felt like, but this was surely it. Her whole head felt cool and her mind seemed to stop. She lost all focus on her movie for a while as she struggled to overcome the odd sensation. The icy chill which gripped her mind.

It wasn’t as bad as she recalled. Sort of relaxing even, but she wanted to concentrate on the film and so she tried to push past it. Yet, even as she felt her mind freeze up, she continued to hoist massive spoonfuls of ice cream to her lips and swallow them down without regard to the consequences. It was like she wasn’t even in control of herself anymore. Her head was cool and numb and her thoughts slowed and all she could think about was the creamy and delicious ice cream which kept melting on her tongue.

As this went on, her whole body seemed to cool and relax as well. She felt oddly weak, sinking deeper into the couch and even the spoon felt heavier as she continued to scoop and swallow. Getting down to the bottom of the tub now, and the name of this flavour kept dancing through her frozen head now. Soft and Serve. Soft. Serve. Soft. Serve. Soft…Serve…

By the time she had finished, she was completely lost as to where she was in the movie. She had also eaten quite a bit of ice cream, though she didn’t feel particularly full. Maybe because she had eaten it so quickly, or perhaps this was lower in calories? Whatever the case, her mind started to thaw and now she could go back to focusing on the movie.

But as she slowly regained her senses, she glanced at the now empty tub in her lap and read some text on the side.

‘Soft and Serve. Feel your strength and cares melt out of your body as this smooth and intense vanilla sensation makes you docile and subservient. When you finish this tub, make sure to try more of our fantastic flavours!’ it said.

Clara wrinkled her brow for a moment. Sort of an odd description...docile and subservient...though she certainly did seem to feel that way. Soft and weak and willing. Just waiting here to be told what to do. And of course, that order was right there in front of her. She would try more of the flavours. Yes, of course!

Almost in a trance, her mind not quite unfrozen, Clara wandered to the kitchen and grabbed another tub at random. Then she marched mindlessly back to the living room and slumped into the sofa to stare forward as if watching the film, though her mind was still too sluggish and relaxed to actually follow the plot. She simply watched the colours shift and flicker across the screen as she opened this tub and dug in.

This flavour was Big and Milky and it was a pure white colour. When the first spoon hit her tongue, she recognized the flavour and smiled. Coconut! Big and Milky, it made sense now. She giggled softly as she swallowed it down.

Just like the last tub, it tasted amazing! It was light and creamy and made her shiver with joy. She liked it even more than the last, and wasted no time in stuffing her face with it. Her spoon shaved delicate white peels of ice cream much like pieces of coconut and she eagerly scooped them into her mouth and felt waves of delight with each mouthful.

Once more, her mind froze over and all thoughts became encased in a wall of ice as she fell into a loop of scooping and swallowing. Her movements grew more sluggish and robotic, but she continued nonetheless, gobbling it down greedily.

Meanwhile, Clara had not yet noticed a rather peculiar change that was happening. It was gradual enough to be nearly imperceptible, but as the minutes rolled on the effects became more and more undeniable. Her breasts were swelling.

They started at a reasonable C cup, but by the time the dazed and delirious Clara noticed something was odd they had gained a whole cup size. Her breasts felt heavier, and they tingled slightly. She groaned around another spoon of addictive coconut cream as she forced her cold and useless brain to figure out what was happening.

She had lazily eaten several more spoonfuls before she finally realized that her breasts had actually grown. Once it dawned on her, it seemed so obvious. They were pushing up against her previously loose t-shirt more and more as she felt them continue to swell. She was sort of glad she hadn’t been wearing a bra that day.

At the same time as the soft breast tissue was swelling and her chest ballooned, the tingling got stronger. She moaned softly between mouthfuls of ice cream as she felt them becoming more sensitive and tender. Her nipples even stiffened and swelled like her breasts, until they were poking boldly through her top, making her swollen chest much more obscene.

At this point she was an E cup and her top was very constrictive. She managed to put down her spoon for long enough to tug the tight tee over her head and fling it across the room. The feeling of the silky material brushing her tender and puffy nipples as it was removed made her squirm and become flushed as it sent sparks of pleasure through her chest and directly to her crotch.

After that, she had one hand holding the spoon and the other on her chest, fondling her ever swelling breasts as she continued to mindlessly consume the product which was so clearly altering her. Deep down she was concerned as to what was happening to her, but those concerns were utterly frozen by her brain freeze. In her state she was only capable of eating and swelling and squeezing and moaning.

When her breasts reached F cup, her hand gave one breast a firm but playful squeeze and she was shocked to feel a surge inside it as something spurted forth from her hard nipple. Droplets of white milk dribbled out afterwards as she groaned and circled her thumb over her nipple, feeling the jolt of pleasure as well as the wetness of her milk coating her thumb.

She brought her thumb to her mouth instead of the spoon for a second and tasted her creamy lactation. To her surprise it tasted just like the ice cream. Yet her brain was too frozen to mull on that thought. Instead she continued brainlessly toying with her nipples and kneading her chest as more milk flowed out. Each surge of liquid which dribbled messily down her chest brought a wave of arousal and satisfaction. All the while she was spooning ice cream into her mouth.

When she reached the bottom of this tub, she was in quite the state. Her breasts had expanded to an incredible G cup and a trail of milk trickled down her chest whilst at the same time her jaw hung open as she drooled a mixture of spit and melted ice cream past her lips and down her chin. Her mind was now taking longer to thaw and she couldn’t stop rubbing and massaging her fat tits and writhing in joy.

In a total daze, she once again glanced to the tub, entirely uninterested by the movie which had long since become background noise. This tub had a similar message on the side.

‘Big and Milky. Coconuts are big and milky, just like your swollen udders will be after you finish this tub of creamy coconut ice cream. Don’t forget to try our other flavours next!’

“Big and Milky...swollen udders...” she mumbled as she read the tub.

Now she was topless, leaking milk and drooling with her crotch growing just as damp as her swollen udders. But she still managed to stumble back to the kitchen for the final tub. After strolling back to the couch, drops of milk splashing carelessly to the floor along the way, she began her final tub.

This was her favourite flavour. The label called it Cow Feed but she recognized the chocolate taste the instant it hit her tongue. She shivered and raised the tub to her face and began to hungrily and frantically froce more and more of it past her lips.

The brain freeze this time was more potent and faster. It could have been the way she was eating it or the fact that her head was already assaulted by the utter numbness of continual brain freeze, but she didn’t care. She had long since grown used to it. It was just like her mind wasn’t there. She didn’t need it anyway. She just needed more of this wonderful ice cream.

Between desperate shoveling her hips grinded into one of her cushions and her inflated udders bounced mesmerizingly as she humped and jiggled and swallowed like a stupid and greedy cow. Moans became more sultry and slowly morphed as she continued.

“Mmmmm, Oooooohhh….mmmmmoooooo….mooooo….moooo….” she cooed with a dopey expression.

She hadn’t even noticed her moans transforming into moos. More and more, every piece of her mind was being reshaped as she willingly ate it up like the happy head of cattle she was soon becoming. Humping and leaking and mooing. Her mind was fading away as all that ice cream went straight to her head.

She finished this tub even faster than the others. By the time she was done, she barely knew where she was or even what she was. She knew she was horny. She knew her udders were heavy and full of milk and she wished they could be pulled and pumped properly. She knew her mind was frozen and she didn’t want it to unthaw. She wanted to keep eating lovely ice cream and leaking and mooing.

Then she noticed something on this tub.

‘Cow Feed. Eat it and feel your old thoughts fade as you become what you were always meant to be...a horny cow! Want more ice cream? Call us on 0842XXXXXX for delivery.”

Clara clumsily stumbled over to the phone and after a few attempts, managed to type in the number.

“Hello, horny cow ice cream, how can I help you today?” a friendly man answered.

“M-moooooooo!” was the first thing Clara said.

The man chuckled softly before responding “Ah, looking for delivery huh. We will send our people right away. Can you tell me your address?” he asked patiently.

It took some work for Clara to give the man her address. Her mind was a soft and frozen mush, like ice cream. She was just a dumb and dopey pair of udders. The whole time had one hand on her sloppy pussy, rubbing and fingering her folds as she spoke to the man, or tried to. Her moans and moos were obvious and constantly interrupting not just her speech but her own thoughts.

However, the man was patient and kind and helped the silly cow along the way. He also reassured her that everything would be fine and their people would arrive soon. She only hung up when she heard her doorbell ringing.

Opening the door eagerly, the two men who had arrived stared in awe at the woman who answered. Massive udders exposed and covered in trails of milk, she had one hand pinching her nipples and the other was under her shorts, working her slick slit as she gawked brainlessly at them.

Clara expected them to deliver ice cream to her, but instead they strapped a collar with a bell to her neck and led her outside. On the collar it read her name, or her new name as it would be. ‘Clarabelle’. The man she had spoken to must have taken liberties with her name after she told him. Not that Clarabelle actually cared. She stumbled forward, guided by the men to a trailer where she was pushed inside. Once inside she fell to her knees and she was too clumsy and dumb to stand back up.

There, she saw a few other women like her. Well, they didn’t exactly look like women anymore. With their enormous udders dangling from their chests and their dull and dimwitted expressions...plus the collars with bells which jangled as they crawled around on all fours. These were clearly livestock. Soft and curvy cows to be milked and bred.

Clarabelle was right at home. She mooed happily as the trailer sped away towards her new life.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good to Say Goodbye (SNEAK PEEK)

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing, Hurt/Comfort & Implied Smut

(THIS IS A SNEAK PEAK! IT'S GONNA BE A LONG ONE BUT ENJOY THIS LITTLE SNEAK PEAK IM GIVING YOU) I also have a lengthy Logan smut in my drafts but I'm no where NEAR done yet.

Summary: Y/N is tired of constantly being dissed by Logan and he doesn't seem to care, at least not until it's too late.

(it’s uploaded now)

F1 masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

instagram

I clasp my jacket closer to my body as I wait for Logan to open the door of our shared apartment. It's pouring rain and my dumbass forgot the keys, I sigh as I pull my phone out, dialing my lovers number.

one ring

two rings

three rings

four- declined.

*new text from "Logie Bear🐻💙"*

Logie Bear🐻💙: Babe I'm on the sim, give me a few.

Me: I'm out here in the pouring rain and I left my key, You said you'd unlock the door 5 minutes ago.

Logie Bear🐻💙: You fucking made me crash.

Logie Bear🐻💙: I'm coming.

A scoff leaves my lips as I shove my phone into my soak jean pockets that stuck to my skin, a few minutes later I hear the lock click and the door swigs open revealing a less than happy Logan.

"Damn, were you watching our home videos while waiting for me to open the door?" Logan laughed as he took in a soaked me before side stepping so I could walk in.

"I've been outside for 10 fucking minutes in the pouring rain Logan and you're making jokes?" I almost screamed at him

Unbelievable, all I do for him and this is how he treats me?

"Woah babe, take a joke," Logan starts before his phone starts ringing "Yeah? Oh for sure, right now? Uh huh, Okay I'll hop on. Yup yup, just give me 5. I'm grabbing a snack" with that Logan hung up the phone "I'm hoping back on the sim with the boys, so just take a shower and dry the floors, you're ruining the wood."

I wanted to scream, I'm ruining the floors? I wouldn't be ruining the floors if you would've opened the door 10 minutes ago like you fucking said you would.

I made my way into our shared room, grabbing my clothes and speaker before making my way to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, I connected my phone to the speaker and started playing "Hold Me While You Wait" by Lewis Capaldi on a low volume before stripping out of the soaking wet clothes that stuck to my skin.

My shaking hand turned the tap to hot as the water started spurting out of the shower head, which made me sigh thinking about the shower head I gave Logan every time we showered together. Today makes 3 weeks since we last fucked, and that was also probably why I'm so aggravated at everything he does. All this pent up sexual tension between us is driving me crazy.

Before stepping into the now steamy shower I turned the volume up on the song currently playing. Once in the tub, I let all my problems wash off of me and down the drain as I let the boiling hot water hit my skin as I just stood under the warmth of it. After what felt like 3 minutes of pure bliss and silence I hear a faint knock at the door before hearing it open. Peaking my head out the shower curtain I'm greeted by Logan just standing by the door.

"Hey Logie, care to join me?" I said in a low & seductive voice, watching as he steps fully into the bathroom and closes the door. A victory smile makes its way on my lips as I pull myself behind the curtain once more, quickly lathering myself in foamy soap.

I can hear Logans footsteps getting closer to the shower, but instead of getting in I hear him pick up my phone, turn the volume down, set my phone back down and as he's leaving he mutters "Not tonight. Boys are on the game and they're complaining that your depressing songs are too loud."

Are you fucking kidding me?

That had been my last straw. In one quick movement I turn off the shower, throw my robe on and march out of the bathroom and into his sim room.

[throneofsapphics]

the moth and the flame part 5: viscera

summary: after meeting Nesta in a bookshop, you find the darkest parts of yourselves bonding with each other. Naturally, Cassian finds himself entangled with the two of you.

warnings: drinking, suggestiveness, implied sexual content

series masterlist

You’re not certain how it happened, but one night you were tangled between the sheets by yourself, the next you were spending each and everyone between Nesta and Cassian. 

For a spare moment, you’d hoped that perhaps the three of you would be entangled in a mating bond together but such was not your luck. 

Still ... they’d done their best to do things right. 

It wasn’t you and them. It was you and her, you and him, you and him and her. Three new relationships formed the day you all came to that first silent agreement. There was no Nesta without Cassian and no Cassian without Nesta, and no you without Nesta. In time that turned into no Cassian without you. 

The whole thing wasn’t quite as convoluted as you expected. It just worked. 

Yes, it had been six months. But six blissful and ecstatic months. They’d wedged their way into every single part of you until you didn’t know where they ended and you began. 

If Cassian was your heart, Nesta was your lungs. 

How could you begin or even exist without them? But ... it drew pain at the same time. 

Despite collective attempts to do everything right, things were still wrong. 

Future you would look back on the moments of clarity and want to slap your past self. Good times don’t negate the bad, no matter how hard you try. 

Placing your hands on each side of the chipped cast iron tub, you pushed yourself up. Cool water streamed from you in rivulets. Using your foot, you kicked the stopper aside to let it drain and chided yourself for not doing that earlier. 

One hand now balancing yourself on the wall, you leaned half out of it to grab your towel. Thinking ahead should probably be something you attempting to do more frequently, you thought. 

‘Never thinking ahead, always stuck in the moment,’ your family used to say something along those lines. Family. The word made you wince and you shoved them from your mind. You had no family anymore - they were all gone. 

Stepping out, careful for your bare soles to hit the fluffy rug, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Since Nesta and Cassian reappeared, there’s been a certain glow about you, you would’ve sworn abysmal amounts of gold you didn’t have on it. 

Yes, there was still an ugly bite mark on the side of your neck you hadn’t quite forgiven her for yet, but the glow. 

“Am I delusional?” You murmured aloud, wiping a finger across the mirror to clear some of the mist. Cleared mist revealed light purple bags under your eyes. Lack of sleep. It’s impossible to sleep well if there’s a beautiful female and male desiring your time. They were dangerous in the sense that you absolutely knew you would sacrifice near anything they asked of you. 

Thumping on wood. Someone was at your door. 

You shrugged a robe on, tossing the towel to land over the edge of the tub, and made your way across the small apartment, barefoot. If someone like your landlord answered the door, it would only make an interesting story to tell Nesta later. 

Was it toxic of you to trigger her jealous side on purpose? Possibly, but the possessive fucking? That was a religious experience you craved to an unhealthy level. A mind healer would probably say you had abandonment issues or something of the like. Mother only knows how many of them have tried, and failed, at helping you. In your opinion, you didn’t need help. Your chaos was comfortable and you were fine in it. For now, at least. Maybe one day that would change. 

The door, you reminded yourself, realizing your footsteps had slowed. When had you become so spacey? Shaking off the stagnant energy, you pushed yourself ahead. 

The door handle shook a little from a loose screw, but it opened all the same. 

“You didn’t even look through the peep hole,” Nesta greeted you, pushing past into your apartment. 

“I don’t care,” you muttered behind her. If someone was going to kill you, they’d probably have a good shot at it regardless of whether you saw their face. Cassian’s eyes fixed on you, and you saw something like care there. It made your heart pick up, throat tighten -

“We’re going to dinner,” Nesta announced from behind you. 

You froze. She knew you loathed surprise meals. 

”How many times do I have to tell you not to surprise me like this?” You hissed. 

“You always say it’s fine,” Nesta snapped back.

“Maybe we can go another time-” Cassian tried. 

“No,” both of you interjected. Perhaps you were part of the problem, not standing up for yourself and saying no when Nesta pulled this trick each time. Was she winning or were you winning? 

There was still an inherent fear you’d disappoint her by saying no. Saying no to her has been near-impossible since she returned into her life. The last time you did, she disappeared for several months. Of course now you know that’s not why but the feeling stuck around. 

“You didn’t leave because I said that ...” It was intended as a question, but came out with wonder instead. 

“No,” Nesta said, rough promise in her voice. “I’d never leave because of something like that.” 

I’d never leave. Nesta would never leave you. 

“What do you think, love?” Cassian’s voice drew you from the memory. 

“Repeat, please,” you winced. 

Nesta let out an over-dramatic sigh. He looked amused. 

“We go to the shops, pick up some food and cook together instead,” he had the look of someone trying to hide how pleased they were with themselves. You had to remind yourself Nesta still knew you a little better than he did. You were a horrific cook, even with fifteen cookbooks lined up on your counters. Actually, those probably fooled him. 

“I’m a horrible cook,” you deadpanned. Sure enough, he looked at the cookbooks. 

“She has those for a reason,” Nesta cut in. You flipped her off. 

“Just follow my instructions then, how about that?” He winked and held out his hand. 

A shy smile, accompanied by heated cheeks, and you took it. 

Cooking with them was ... fun. Definitely preferable to a surprise dinner, in your opinion. 

You watched as Cassian stood next to the stove, hip pressed against the counter, hand wrapped around a wooden spoon. You imagined his hand wrapped around something else. Maybe your wrist, tugging you closer to him, maybe your throat, taking you even closer to him. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asked carefully, voice just carrying across the room. 

Skin burned, your mouth pressed into a tight line, a slight sense of mortification, caught in the act daydreaming about him. If anything, it only enhanced your arousal. 

“Um,” you stumbled, looking for an excuse. “Things.” 

“Things ...” Nesta shifted closer to you, her hand warm on your thigh. “What kinds of things?” She purred, her voice a sensual caress against her skin as she leaned closer, mouth brushing across her neck. She stood then, moving behind your chair, her hands resting on your shoulders. “What do you say we give him a show?” She whispered in your ear. 

“I say yes,” Cassian’s voice cut through the room this time. Your hands gripped the bottom of your tunic. A show, you could do. 

series taglist: @breadsticks2004 @shamelessdonutkryptonite @rowaelinsdaughter @fightmedraco @acourtofbatboydreams @readinggeeklmao @krowiathemythologynerd @kooterz @anxious-study @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy

acotar taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @I-am-a-lost-girl16

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Shrinking Violet - Part II (Rhysand x Reader)

Here's Part II of this (finally)! Took me a while but I got there. I really hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: SMUT ✨🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

There was a female in Rhysand’s lap.

A pretty female, with long, cascading blonde hair and eyes like a cerulean sky.

You didn’t care.

You’d seen her around the Hewn City before; males and females alike tended to turn her way when she passed. Tended to gape at the beauty in their midst.

You didn’t care.

And now she’d found her way into the High Lord’s arms.

You did not care.

Except that you obviously did.

You hadn’t seen Rhys since his last visit two months before. And that was fine — that was normal. The whole time you’d known him, he’d always dipped in and out, sometimes absent for months and months at a time. Sometimes visiting every few weeks. It had always been the case, and it had never bothered you before. 

But it was his words from the last time that had stuck with you. Like a damn thorn in your side.

Come back to Velaris with me.

No.

Come back to Velaris with me.

No.

Come back to Velaris with me.

No.

He’d never said anything like that before. And, of course, you’d saved face — had joked and jested to brush off the weight of those words.

But they’d left you in a strange headspace. Left you wondering, for two months, if he’d meant them. Why he’d suddenly said them after years of the two of you fooling around.

So you hadn’t had even nearly as much confidence tonight as the night you’d worn a dress to match the shade of his eyes. You’d found yourself unsure, nervous.

You didn’t like being unsure and nervous.

And then you’d spotted Rhysand on his throne. And the female — Nyrinn, her name was — on his lap. And your nerves twisted into…something else. 

The night wore on, your tolerance for being there dwindling by the second. Especially as Nyrinn’s giggles seemed to grow louder and more shrill as time rolled on, and no amount of wine could drown them out. 

After two hours, you decided you’d had enough.

You drained your glass and set it aside, gathering up the skirts of your gown. You only attended these things because your father was a high-standing member of the Hewn City council.

But you’d shown your face — there was no rule that said you had to linger.

So you’d hastily exited the throne room, ignoring the feeling of gazes burning into your back. You didn’t care who noticed as you began to make your way back to your residence. 

It was only when you were back within the walls of your opulent home that you realised how truly restless you were. You’d torn off your gloves and called to your maidservant that you didn’t wish to be disturbed, before skulking up to your bedroom with an ever-growing twist in your gut.

You didn’t want to read, or journal, or play an instrument, or think. You didn’t want to sleep or to be awake. You wanted…

You wanted to scream. 

Ridiculous, for Rhysand to have such a profound effect on you. You were not a person who got churned up over males. You were not a female who simpered and sulked in her bedroom after being ignored.

But it wasn’t just that he’d ignored you, no. It was the point he’d blatantly made, by seating that female on his lap. 

Come back to Velaris with me. Such pretty, useless words. 

It was in pure, unwanted frustration that you tore your dress off and strode into your bathroom. You ran your bath far too hot, simply wanting the burn to take your mind off the High Lord. Pouring a concoction of oils into the water, you lowered yourself in, hissing in satisfaction at both the heat and the scent. You were relaxing blissfully in the luxury of a sunken tub whilst Rhysand sat with a frilly, giggling female on his lap—

No. You would not think about him any longer.

You closed your eyes, resting your head back against the tub and savouring the feeling of the hot water blanketing your skin. You took slow, deep breaths, allowing your body to loosen up, your muscles to relax—

Come back to Velaris with me.

Block it out, block it out, block it out. 

My father used to tell me to stay far away from you.

Breathe. Breathe.

I think about you, you know.

Come back to Velaris with me.

You launched up in the bath, water spraying as you growled in frustration and grabbed the closest object — a soap bottle — and hurled it across the room. 

You hated this. Being mixed up and restless. Being unsure of where you stood. How dare Rhysand plant such thoughts in your head. How dare he make you feel like this.

It wasn’t part of your game. It was always supposed to have been a game.

Sick of your bath already, you climbed out of the tub and towelled yourself off. Your skin felt too tight on your bones, too restricting. You threw your hair up, grabbed your pretty little robe from where it hung on the back of the door, and tied it around yourself, wandering back through to your bedroom.

“Do you always spend your bath time launching things across the room?”

You started, a yelp leaving you as you whipped around—

And found Rhysand lounging on your bed like it was his. One leg crossed over the other. Arms propped behind his head. 

He surveyed you — the thin, silk robe that barely covered you — and his full lips twitched into a smirk. “Oh, that’s positively indecent.”

You clenched your jaw, pulling the robe tighter around yourself. “What are you doing?”

He tilted his head up to the ceiling. “I was trying to write a poem, but I don’t think I have a calling for it. I’m trying to rhyme with gyrating—”

“No, Rhysand. What are you doing in my room? Or my house?”

“As I said — trying my hand at poetry. Vibrating? High rating?”

“I did not invite you.” You marched over to the door. “Get out.”

Only then did he meet your gaze, and he finally sat up on your bed—but made no further move. He propped himself up casually. “I’m your High Lord. I invited myself.”

“Well uninvite yourself. Leave.”

You didn’t like the assessing gaze with which he looked at you. Like your tone and demeanour intrigued him, and he was trying to puzzle out its source. His eyes narrowed, head falling into a tilt, and he stated rather pointlessly, “You’re annoyed.”

Yes. “Why should I be annoyed?”

“You tell me. You couldn’t have left the throne room quick enough.”

“I didn’t realise that you’d noticed my presence.”

Rhysand’s eyes flashed at your response, the swimming violet shifting into a churning sea of something deeper — and you could have cursed yourself. You knew you’d shown your hand and exposed the bitter thoughts that were pawing at your mind. 

His lips kicked up into a smirk. “I’m sorry. Did I not pay you enough attention?”

You turned to your dressing table, taking a seat in front of the mirror. “I don’t care what you do, Rhysand, unless it involves you leaving.”

“I don’t think that’s strictly true, is it?”

You didn’t deign to respond. You stared at your flushed reflection, wishing you could wipe away your terse expression as easily as the makeup you’d painted on earlier that evening. You didn’t want to be this affected by him. You wanted the ease of your game. 

But your mind kept dredging up that image of Nyrinn on Rhys’s lap. And the rage that filled you was certainly not in keeping with the games that you played.

When it was clear to Rhys that you had nothing more to say to him, he finally rose from your bed. You waited to hear the click of the door, or feel the telltale sensation of him winnowing out of the room, but he instead traipsed around the bed until he was hovering behind you, close enough that the heat of his body seemed to permeate your thin robe. 

“I’ve never seen your home before.” He stated unexpectedly, his fingers beginning to toy with a pin in your hair.

You shrugged, the movement causing your robe to slip down your shoulder. “Why would you have done? You don’t need to see my home to fuck me. Empty corridors were enough. I wonder if Nyrinn would echo that sentiment.”

Rhys’s hand paused, hovering in your hair. “I’m starting to think you’re jealous.”

You wanted to scowl. Were you jealous? Yes. No. You didn’t know.

You knew you didn’t want to be. You knew that you didn’t like what that must mean. That Rhysand had power over you that went beyond that of a High Lord and his subject. Power over your heart. 

It was just…the words he had spoken the last time you’d seen him. They had been weighty and thrilling and terrifying. You’d turned them over in your mind every night since.

And Rhysand boldly sitting with another female on his lap was a message to you and you only. One that screamed, I didn’t mean what I said.

But that was fine, wasn’t it? You’d never promised each other anything beyond finding pleasure in each other’s bodies. Rhys owed you nothing. You owed him nothing.

You straightened yourself up in the mirror, schooling your expression into neutrality. “Of course I’m not jealous.”

Rhys studied you in the mirror for a moment. And then his fingers drifted from your hair, down to that shoulder that had been exposed by your robe. The pads of his fingers brushed your skin gently, and you gritted your teeth, trying not to enjoy the feeling.

“No?” Rhys hummed deeply. “I’m sensing some anger.”

“I’m not angry.”

His head dipped. His lips replaced his fingers, skating over your shoulder. “How about you show me how utterly not angry you are?”

Brat. He was such a fucking brat. Such a swaggering, entitled High Lord who had the world at his feet and damn well knew it. It only enraged you more.

And what you should have done with that rage was turf him out of your home and throw him on his ass, High Lord or no. You should have put your foot down and not allowed him to seduce his way out of this, whether he owed you nothing or not.

But this…the honeyed, suggestive remarks…this was territory you were familiar with. This was yours and Rhys’s thing. This was where you felt comfortable.

And so you would curse yourself for it later. But you turned your head to the side, your face now inches from Rhys’s.

He paused at the close proximity — the promise of your lips brushing. His breath hitched in his throat, and he applied the slightest bit of pressure, his mouth on yours—

You stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Get on the bed.” 

You felt his body still beneath your hand. And you heard his throat bob as he swallowed. And when he pulled away, you could have sworn you glimpsed his hands trembling.

You didn’t care to think too much about it. You rose from your dressing stool, toying with the tie on your robe. Rhys watched you, slowly walking backwards as he did. When his legs hit the back of the bed, he let himself fall. 

“Lie back.” You ordered.

He glanced at you once. And then scooted back, settling into the pillows. And despite the fact that he was High Lord…the most powerful High Lord, and the most important person within this mountain…he just looked like the same old Rhysand that you had always known. Beautiful. Dark. Resplendent amongst the pretty drapes of your huge bed.

And he looked strangely vulnerable as you climbed over him. Straddled him. His hands seem to inch towards your hips, but you shook your head once.

“Place them above your head.” You said.

Rhys blinked, a shudder of breath escaping him. The two of you had fucked in all sorts of places in the Hewn City, on all sorts of surfaces. You’d exchanged filthy words and pushed a little further with every round of your game you played.

But this was different. And judging by the heat that quickly filled Rhysand’s eyes…he was ravenous for it.

You were deliberately slow as you tugged the tie from your robe. Rhys tracked every tiny movement, and his throat bobbed as you grabbed both of his wrists in one hand, and used the tie to fasten them to the bed.

“I am not jealous or angry, Rhysand.” Such a gods-damned liar you were. “But my evening did not play out how I hoped it would. And I don’t like not being in control.”

His eyes watched you. Watched as you checked the knot you’d tied, before your hands slowly moved to rest on his chest. “And how did you wish for the evening to play out?”

“I would have liked another round of our game.” Your fingers toyed with the top button on his shirt. “But perhaps you’ve tired of me. Perhaps you’d rather play with Nyrinn.”

“I could never tire of you. You want control? Take it. It’s yours.”

There was a mild taunting in his tone that suggested he perhaps didn’t believe you to have the nerve. He was High Lord, after all, and you just the daughter of a reputable male in his court. You had an easy, luxurious life, void of risks, perhaps even of excitement.

But if he suspected you lacked nerve, well — he was seriously, gravely mistaken.

Without the tie, your robe had parted. You were done with it completely.

You whipped it off, tossing it behind you without a glance. Rhysand’s eyes fell to your now naked body, his pupils blown. He swallowed, and his wrists gave a jerk against the restraints you’d tied. They didn’t budge an inch.

He let out a frustrated huff. “I want to touch you—”

“Uh-uh.” You pressed a finger against his lips. “You said the control was all mine.”

“It is.” His teeth gritted. “It is.”

With a smile, you applied a small amount of pressure to his lips. Just enough for them to naturally part. Rhys’s eyes were firmly on yours as you slipped your finger into his mouth. He immediately sucked, his tongue flicking against your skin.

“Here’s how this is going to go, Rhysand.” You tugged your finger back, smiling at the whine he emitted. “Honesty will be rewarded. I’ll ask you questions, and I expect truthful answers. If you’re honest, you’ll get a prize.”

His throat bobbed. “What kind of prize?”

“The best kind.”

“And how will you know whether or not I’m being honest?”

“Well,” your lips twitched. You dragged your hand down your chest, skirting the turgid peaks of your breasts. “I have to trust that you’ll be smart enough to be honest. Because a single lie comes with a penalty you would not appreciate.”

Torturously slow, his heated violet gaze followed the direction of your hand, still descending the length of your body. His voice was rough, blunt, as he bit out, “What’s the penalty.”

“The penalty,” your fingers finally reached that sweet spot between your thighs, and you dragged a finger through your wetness, biting your lip, “is me leaving you tied up here, while I go and find another male to sate my needs. Perhaps one of your handsome friends. Cassian, or Azriel—”

He jerked against the restraints, a snarl rumbling deep in his chest. His eyes flashed a shade darker. 

“Easy, High Lord.” You smirked. Dragged that finger back up. “All you have to do is swear your honesty. Do you swear it?”

His gaze was fully clasped on your finger now coated in your juices. He jerked again. “Let me taste you.”

“Do. You. Swear—”

“Yes. Fuck, yes. You have my word. I will be completely, hideously honest, even if it’s humiliating for me—”

His words were cut short as you shoved your slicked finger between his lips. They immediately fastened around it, and he sucked your wetness greedily, a satisfied moan breaking from him.

“Such a good High Lord.” You hummed. Your lips twitched as his hips bucked, his arousal pressing against you. “Let’s start with an easy question, shall we?”

His only response was to meet your gaze head-on, and suck your finger harder. There couldn’t possibly be anything left for him to taste, and yet he suckled and licked like a male parched. 

“Question one.” Your fingers returned to the buttons on his shirt, poised to pop them open. “What is your favourite colour?”

Rhys seemed genuinely perturbed by having to part his lips. You quickly snatched your hand back, stroking a wet trail down his chin, his neck.

He answered without hesitation, “The colour of your eyes, of course.”

So he was going to play nice. Good. Your smile widening, you began to dutifully pop open those buttons on his shirt. Rhys’s chest seemed to heave with every touch.

He watched you closely as you reached the bottom, parting his shirt to expose his tan, muscled torso. He tugged at the restraints again, as though silently asking you to remove the shirt entirely. Your reprimanding glance had him promptly falling still.

You kept your gaze on his. “Question two. Another easy one. What were you thinking when you first glimpsed me in that violet dress?”

You could see the desire that crossed his face, his thoughts flitting back to that very night. That very dress. “I was thinking that the Mother had gifted me all my Winter Solstices at once, and that I am a very lucky male.”

So silver-tongued. But you rewarded him, all the same, by brushing your lips through that alley between his pectorals. And down the planes of his stomach. And down. Rhys grunted just as you pulled away.

“Next question.” You hummed, moving down his body still. Your own entirely naked body was on fire, begging to be touched, and you knew Rhys could scent how dripping you were between your legs.

But he couldn’t do anything about it. His nostrils flared, his throat bobbing.

“The last time you were here,” you said, “you told me that you think about me. Is that true?”

His eyes fluttered shut, yet he said nothing. You didn’t take your gaze away from his face as you skirted your fingertips over the hard bulge pressing through his breeches in a barely-there caress. Rhys immediately grunted.

“Is it true, Rhysand?”

“Yes.” He breathed. “It’s true.”

The words…they seemed to ignite something in your body; a scorching, desirous flame. You tried to shove it down, to snuff it out. To focus on the game.

Your hands reached the laces and buttons of his breeches. You tugged on one, two, and then stopped. “What is it you think about?”

“I think about your pretty little cunt.” He was like an animal with its prey as he watched you tug at another lace. “About the way it squeezes my cock right before you come.” Another. “I think—”

He cut himself off abruptly — as though he’d been about to blurt a thought he wasn’t quite ready to verbalise. It stroked at your curiosity, your ears pricking up.

“Honesty is rewarded, Rhysand.” You’d reached that final lace, pinching it between your fingers. Your other hand teased the sliver of skin exposed by the parting flap on his breeches.

A noise sounded deep in Rhys’s throat, and his head fell back. “I think about it being you who sits on my lap in that throne room. In front of everybody. Everybody knowing that I’m the one who gets to bury my cock in you. That nobody gets to touch what’s mine.”

A shiver coursed right through you. Save face, your self-preserving mind screamed at you, don’t let him see what his words do to you.

But gods above, they did a great many things to you. Your skin felt tight, hot. You wanted to drag your hands down your body, to touch yourself and abate the roaring need between your thighs. 

The laces undone, only three buttons were what was keeping Rhys’s breeches on his hips. You popped the first button open. 

“That seems awfully selfish.” You responded to his confession. “Did no one ever teach you how to share, High Lord?”

His teeth gritted. “I can share.” He hissed. “But I won’t share you. Never you.”

Heavy, weighty words.

The impact of them could have bowled you over. Could have sent you running from this room, from him—

But you didn’t want to share, either. And that was what this was about, wasn’t it? Beneath the need, the arousal, it was jealousy that drove you. Jealousy that encouraged your fingers to undo those final two buttons and part Rhysand’s breeches completely.

His cock was pressing hard against his underwear, and you inhaled his pleasant scent. Always citrusy. Always intoxicating.

Did you dare ask the next question on your tongue? Why won’t you share me? It was the most logical inquisition to follow, and yet—

And yet you weren’t sure you were ready for the answer.

So you focused on his body instead. Your fingers danced over that soft, cotton underwear, feeling out his hardened length.

Rhys’s head lolled back, his breath hitching. And he whined. “Please.”

Your lips flicked up at the corners. “Please?” You repeated. “Please what?”

“Touch me. With your hands, your mouth, just—touch me.”

“Answer another question,” you tugged his breeches down; he lifted his hips to assist you, “and I’ll touch you.”

He gritted his teeth. “What’s the question.”

One you had pored over in your mind again and again since your last encounter with Rhys. Even when you’d tried not to think about it, curiosity had been a bitch. You couldn’t help it. His silver tongue had left you wondering too many things.

“You told me that your father used to warn you to stay away from me.” Your fingers skirted the waistband on his underwear, dipping just beneath and stopping. “I want to know why.”

“Fuck,” Rhys swore quietly. “You’re going to destroy me, Y/N.”

“Perhaps.” You snapped the waistband. “But you’d probably enjoy it. You either answer the question and I slide my mouth over your cock, or I can untie you and we can leave things well alone.”

Both of you knew there was no competition between those two options. But Rhys still groaned quietly, his heart thumping in his chest.

You made to slide your hand away—

“He used to warn me to stay away from you,” he clenched his jaw, “because he knew that I couldn’t. Because he knew that you…that you’re different.”

Your entire body paused. These words weren’t the flirtatious, teasing ones you’d been expecting.

These words were real. They were powerful. Perhaps altering.

And you dealt with them in the same way you dealt with anything that made you feel too much.

You drove them away with desire.

You’d asked for honesty, and he’d offered it up on a silver platter. You couldn’t deny that. 

Your fingers gripped his underwear, and you pulled them down until they were joining his discarded breeches on the floor. And his cock was springing up — painfully hard and already leaking. You took in the sight, humming in appreciation.

“Please.” Rhys said again, his hips bucking. “Fuck—please.”

“For being an honest High Lord.” You met his violet stare. Wrapped your hand around his rigid length. “You did so well.”

Rhysand’s answering groan as you slowly began to pump him told you precisely how desperately he wanted this. His head fell back once more, eyes screwing shut and lips parting. The sight only had you growing wetter.

You started slow and languid, taking your time to appreciate every little twitch and jerk. Most of yours and Rhys’s fucks had been quick and heated, a case of shoving your clothes off and carrying each other to release. And you’d sucked his cock before, yes, but mostly in darkened corridors where you’d not had the luxury of light nor of time.

Now, you had both. Now, you could see it all.

Rhys lifted his hips, bucking up into your hands as a desperate moan left him. You knew what he wanted. You wanted it, too.

Using your free hand to cup his balls, your other still gripped his cock as you leaned in and swiped your tongue over the head, tasting the pleasant saltiness there.

“Shit.” Rhys immediately hissed, his eyes returning to you once more. They were so much darker than usual, the violet heated and sinful as he watched you take the head of his cock into your mouth, and he bit his lip. “Holy fucking gods.”

You chuckled around him. His enjoyment, his noises — they were as pleasurable as him outright fucking you. You slid your hand between your legs, dipping your fingers into your dripping cunt as you dragged your tongue down the length of Rhys’s cock. His eyes immediately shot to your fingers that you’d begun to pump in and out of yourself, and a snarl left him as he jerked at the restraints. 

“I want to touch you.” He begged. “Just a touch.”

“I’m in control, Rhysand.” You reminded him. Your hand was still pumping him, twisting around the head in a way you knew was torturous for him. You slid your lips over him and hollowed your cheeks as you sucked.

He was whining, groaning, hips bucking and stomach caving. But you pushed and pushed, sliding your mouth further onto him, sucking and licking and paying special attention to the underside — the vein that was pulsing there.

“Fuck—stop!” Rhys jerked. “I don’t want to come yet. Please.”

Gods, you loved the sound of him begging. A sound you would happily listen to forever. One that could sing you to sleep at night.

But you didn’t want him to come yet, either. And that was the only reason you appeased him and pulled him from your mouth with a resounding pop. 

You slid your fingers out of yourself, your juices glistening on your skin. And when you used them to slick Rhys’s cock even more, his eyes damn near rolled into the back of his head.

“You want to taste me?” You smiled, your fingers idly running up and down his cock.

“No.” Rhys gasped. “I need to taste you.”

And quite frankly, you needed him to taste you. Your fingers hadn’t been enough, hadn’t taken the edge off even slightly.

“For playing so nice, Rhysand,” you rose, moving up the bed, “you can taste me.”

He watched, a male utterly entranced as you stood before him. And when you planted your feet either side of him, inches from his face, his eyes drank in the sight of your cunt greedily.

“Taste.” You commanded, lowering your centre to his face.

Rhys growled, his tongue swiping out to lick an agonising, heated stripe right up you, from your entrance to your clit. He grazed his teeth there, and a moan tumbled from your lips, your fingers sinking into the strands of his hair as you ground yourself against his face.

He lapped and laved at you, taking everything you gave him. And you knew that had his hands been untied, he would have sunk his fingers into you, fucked you with him. 

But they weren’t untied.

So he used his tongue instead.

The moment his tongue slid inside you, your head was falling back. The feeling was too much — too good. You were gripping onto his hair and onto the headboard and trying desperately not to collapse from the way your body was already beginning to tremble.

Rhys made an affirming, encouraging noise. And you knew him well enough to know what he was asking of you. Ride my face. Fuck my tongue.

You did just that. 

You didn’t know how you managed to stay upright as you writhed against him, every inch of you trembling. And when you moved your fingers to your clit and began to circle there, his tongue moving in and out of you, you exploded.

You screamed as release spread through you, not caring one tiny bit about who heard. You hoped people heard. Hoped people knew you were coming on their High Lord’s tongue.

Rhys groaned, swallowing every last drop of you and enjoying every second. 

You didn’t know how you were able to steady yourself enough to pull back. But as you did, the mere sight of Rhysand almost sent you hurtling to release all over again.

He panted, stared at you, his face glistening with your come. His tongue swiped out, lapping up every last bit he could reach.

You needed him inside you. Now.

Your hands coasted his body as you moved down. Questions and games and teasing were far, far behind you. This was pure, carnal need. 

But as you straddled Rhys, gripping his cock to steady him, he was stopping you—

“Y/N.” Your name was soft on his lips. “Untie me. Please. Let me touch you.”

You paused. It wasn’t a needy, whining plea — but an earnest one. An emotional one. 

And it was that which made you comply.

You sank down onto his cock first. The two of you both sucked in a breath with every inch of him that slowly entered you. He filled you so perfectly, so exquisitely—

Only when he was fully seated inside you, your hips beginning a slow, steady rhythm of riding him, did you reach out and unfasten the restraints.

“Touch me.” You whispered, tossing the tie aside.

You expected Rhys to cup your breasts as he had done countless times before. Or perhaps to return to your clit, to use his fingers there while you rode him.

You hadn’t anticipated the way his hands instead gripped your face — gentle, tender. 

His palms cupped your cheeks, and he leaned in, slanting his lips over yours. 

You’d kissed countless times before. But those kisses had been needy, hungry, a ravenous build-up to your bodies meeting.

This kiss was slow and deep. Rhys’s tongue traced the seam of your lips, and as he slid it into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on him, he stroked his thumb across your cheek.

You couldn’t bear it. 

It was too…gentle. Too meaningful.

You planted your hands on his shoulders, picking up the pace of your hips, rolling them and grinding them against him. You moaned breathlessly, savouring the feel of his cock thrusting into you. You knew he couldn’t last much longer.

“Slow.” He panted, pressing peppered kisses to your mouth. “Slowly.”

“No.” You moaned. You tore your lips from his, leaning down to nip at his neck. “I want you to come.”

“Fuck.” His hands fell down to grip at your ass, and he seemed unable to hold himself back any longer. He lifted you slightly, his cock slamming into you, the resounding slap of skin on skin filling the room.

You screamed, your fingers digging into Rhys’s shoulders as a second orgasm hit you, overpowering your entire body. You felt utterly boneless as you shook against him.

“Oh gods.” Rhys gasped. “Gods—Y/N.”

He slammed in to the hilt — and spilled into you with your name on his tongue, melting into an incoherent, desperate groan.

You felt every twitch and spurt of his cock inside you. It was all you could do to hold onto him, to keep yourself upright, as your sweat-slick bodies trembled against each other.

And then there was silence; aside of your heavy breathing, utter silence.

Your eyes were still screwed shut, and yet you could feel Rhysand looking at you as he held you. His forehead pressed against yours, and he stroked a hand down your back.

“Come back to Velaris with me.” He murmured.

Those words again. They chased you. Haunted you.

“No.” You whispered.

For a moment, there was no reaction. And then Rhys was pulling back. He tugged your chin up. “Look at me.”

You did — if only to avoid feeling like a coward. But staring into his eyes was a grave mistake.

Such strong emotion swam there. And he wore it openly.

“Come back with me.” He said again. “What do you have here?”

“I have my life—”

“Your life that you spend running from feeling things?”

Your face sobered. “Fuck you, Rhys.”

He grimaced — knew he’d said the wrong thing. His arms tightened around you. “Look, just…just talk to me. Tell me why you won’t come back with me.”

For a multitude of reasons. Because I’m not in control when I’m with you, and that scares me. Because I’m worried you’ll eventually grow bored of me and wish I’d never come. Because you’re capable of utterly shattering my heart—

“I’ve never left this mountain.” You said simply. “What would I do in Velaris?”

“I think you’d be amazed by the amount of things you could do.” He reached out, brushing his thumb over your cheek again. “You are wasted in this place, Y/N. You should be out in the world — with me.”

You swallowed, lowering your gaze. He sold it well; you couldn’t deny you were tempted. But you were scared.

“Why don’t you just…come for a week?” He then said. “No strings attached, no commitments. Come and spend a week in Velaris. See what it has to offer. See how you like it. Meet my friends properly — get to know them.”

You shrugged a shoulder half-heartedly. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Then they’d be fools. But I know they’ll like you as much as I do.”

You stared at him, and he stared back. As much as I do. He’d never been so…on the nose about it.

“…I don’t know…” 

“Just a week.” He stroked your cheek again. “You don’t even have to spend it with me, if you don’t want to.” 

It seemed ludicrous to even bring it into question, but…you knew he meant it. He would leave you alone if you asked.

But you’d never ask. It was quite clear to you how much you didn’t want him to leave you alone.

“One week?” You said. Even lingering on the cusp of agreeing sent a thrill through you. This was new. Exciting. Nerve-wracking.

Rhys leaned in, brushing his lips against yours. “One week.”

“Ask me again, then, Rhysand.”

He drew back. Met your gaze. “Come back to Velaris with me.”

And although every self-preserving instinct screamed at you to refuse yet again, you dipped your chin in acceptance. Even if the mere prospect was fraught with nervous anticipation.

“Okay.” You said. “You can have me for one week.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ rhysand tag list: @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @luna-1-3-5 @lucyysthings @blacksstarrynight @munchkinnicki @illyriansimp @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @basicbittywitty @brookeduggan @acourtofchaosandmess @eos-princess @aaronwarnerswifereal @mairthys @ginqver @multifandomdisorder @twsssmlmaa @mateobneun-rattattui @udpoota

general tag list:@angrymilfs @lunaralaraspace @maddithefangirl @brekkershadowsinger @wandas-dream @his-sweet-nightmare @kennedy-brooke @chocolatecakelargeshake @daily-dose-of-sass @missaddamsworld @reiincarnatiion @linduzmunna @leeknows-wife @nightcourtwritings @ann-writes-universes @cosmic-whispers @simplefan-638 @lucyysthings @judig92 @shannonsaid @azriels-mate123 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @iangelofmusic

[rottenpumpkin13]

How are the apartments set up at Shinra HQ? Who’s apartment is next to who’s? Is there any drama between neighbors? Is anyone’s far away, hoping they won’t be bothered?

I'm going to use this post as a reference dump for the headcanons I have, because I think about this a lot lol.

• There are two SOLDIER residence floors within the 49th level accessed by a private elevator that you need an access card to ride in.

• The Third Class apartments are shared between three people, the Second Class apartments are shared between two people, and all the Firsts have their own apartments. *There was a time period right before the war ended where all three Firsts had to share one Third Class apartment because the First Class apartments were still under construction.

• Zack is a Second but he currently doesn't have a roommate, so he takes this opportunity to have Cloud over all the time.

• Zack and Sephiroth are on the top floor, with Sephiroth's apartment being the last door at the end of the looong, large hallway. Genesis and Angeal are on the bottom floor at opposite ends of the hallway. *Due to Angeal's house plant collection, bugs oftentimes proliferate on their floor and get into Genesis' apartment, which he hates.

• The First Class apartments are the more luxurious and spacious ones, complete with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city skyline, combo bathrooms, and more space than they know what to do with.

• They usually congregate in either Angeal's or Sephiroth's apartments—Angeal's being the coziest, and Sephiroth having the biggest living room.

• Occasionally someone will set off the smoke detector and cause everyone on their floor to stand in the hallway at 2AM while maintenance deals with it. Zack has a tendency to wake up in the middle of the night, inspired to cook, and has been the culprit a total of 5 times. By the 5th time Angeal threatened to take away his stove. Genesis wakes up from nightmares shooting firaga, and has been the culprit 7 times. Sephiroth's oil diffuser caught fire one time and he thought the best course of action to take was to burn the diffuser into nothing. This didn't work. The two floors had to evacuate because it set off everyone's detectors. They all stood in the 49th floor reception as the fire was dealt with. They all knew it came from Sephiroth's apartment. Sephiroth didn't know this, so he spent a good portion of the night talking to people going "who could've done this?"

• All three Firsts have the keys to each other's apartments, not because they love and trust each other, but because one time they couldn't get ahold of Genesis for half a day, so they broke into his apartment and found out he was stuck in his own bathtub because he thought it was a good idea to submerge himself in essencial oils. He drained the tub but was completely unable to get out without slipping back into it.

• Sephiroth and Genesis regularly have to help Angeal drag up garage sale/flea market steals up the stairwell so nobody sees them. Sephiroth's last straw was when he had to go up and down 49 flights of stairs a total of 32 times bringing up boxes of antique kitchenware. By the 18th time he was having to step over Genesis' presumed dead body on the 38th floor landing.

• Sephiroth loves to meditate, but he is unable to because his apartment is right on top of Genesis', who loves to listen to his music uncomfortably loud.

• Genesis claims he's the one who suffers living under Sephiroth. One time he was woken up at 3AM to the violent sound of a gong being hit. Genesis blew a hole through his roof with firaga, which then shot a hole through Sephiroth's floor.

Visuals be upon ye