#I do feel like it’s hers now but this idea tickles me it’s so soft and funny

[tan1shere]

I HAVE A..A FUN LITTLE IDEA!

what if sugar mommy billie x sugarbaby reader and like billie loves buying things for reader and loves just buying stuff for her and reader is kinda a bimbo but the public thinks they are polar opposite best friends. not knowing that same night reader put lingerie on that billie bought for her and billie tear it off to eat her out then later fuck her (with strap)

crazy big brain moment when thinking about if i should be a sugar baby or not

A Little Secret

Sugar mommy Billie Eilish x sugar baby fem reader !

A/n: duhrrr omg I adore this, and GURL you're so very real for that last statement 😫 I really hope I did a good job !!!! And that you like it 😊

Summary: it was all top secret what you and billie truly were. Definitely not just friends.

Warnings: Slight age difference ? (B30,R21) fingerings, eating out, let me know if i missed anything !!

Masterlist

You could come out and just say that the two of you are dating. But people would soon realize there was something more going on. So. You both had to keep it as secret as possible. Not to mention how obvious the age gap was.

And you managed to, it was especially hard when you wanted to post and flaunt all the pretty gifts she'd get you. All you wanted to do was show how thankful you were of her. You wanted to show her off even if the situation wasn't as normal so you two see it. But you both didn't care, you were insanely happy.

One day you were getting ready to go out to the mall. You open your car door to be met with some roses and a prezzie. With a note from Billie saying.

"I wanna be the reason you slightly tilt your phone away from others when you read it" - Have a good day sweet angel ;)

That was a constant thing she'd do, leaving gifts for you, especially with a cheeky note.

"Hey Bub, look what I got." She says with the widest grin. "Whatcha get." You say sitting up from the couch. She had a black handbag in hand, it was beautiful. She turns it around, smirking as your eyes gleam at the designer symbol. You look at her, looking at that sexy smirk of hers, her eyes. You quite literally pounce at her, kissing her lips. "This is gorgeous Bill!" You beamed as you go to grab it, looking at it. The compartments.

"Exactly like you baby." You blush ever so slightly, as you keep looking at it. You were truly mesmerized. "You can use it for our date night tomorrow." She then says leaning on the couch. "Where are we going!?" You had so much enthusiasm she adored it. It made her feel truly happy. "It's a surprise my love." You sit there and think for a moment. "Alright, but I know wherever it is I'll love it." She smiles more. "I know you will."

Tonight was the night, you were currently in the bathroom lining your lips before you put the soft red lipstick on. She comes up behind you, kissing your neck. "You look so good. Smell great too." You giggle as her breath tickles your skin. "So do you!" She soon looks at you through the mirror. "Kinda don't even want to go for food now, I mean. You look pretty tasty." She bites your neck, causing another giggle to rumble from you. "Bill." - "You'll be calling me something completely different by the time I'm done with you."

A blush spreads widely across your cheeks, even more considering the slight blush you already wore. She then turns you around once your lipstick was applied. Grabbing your hand gently and kissing it. "Howd I get so lucky. Daym." You kiss her cheek. "I'm so grateful for you." You say sweetly. "Ready?" You nod as she takes your hand in hers again, taking you to the car.

The place she took you to was beautiful, the building was dimly lit. Only source of light was coming from a few on the ceiling, and the tall, skinny candles on the tables. You and Billie sit down, tucking your feet under the red velvet table cloth. Billie would always make sure the places she took you to were secluded. Just in case any eyes saw. Of course it could've been just two friends. But with the way you two were both dressed, a blind man would spot that from a mile away.

The evening was great, everything so still, calm and quiet. Soaking up the luxury of the building and the atmosphere. When you were both ready to go she grabs your hand leading you out to the car, like always she opens the door for you. Letting you get in before it closes, and she's making her way to the driver's side.

The ride is peaceful you had the window rolled down enjoy the slight breeze. You then get the idea to stick your head out, maneuvering your body out of the seat belt, having your back slightly out of the car. Having it rest there. Your hands grip the upper part of the car, leaning your head back as the wind blows through your hair. But as you got into the position you're in currently. You were unaware of the fact your dress had ridden up ever so slightly. Giving Billie the most perfect view of your black lace underwear.

Specifically the ones she bought you just recently. You hadn't worn them yet so it cones as a surprise to her eyes. She had to stay focused on driving but God how it hugged your pussy so delicately. She couldn't tear her eyes away. She eventually did, knowing you guys were almost home. The things this woman was about to do. She truly wasn't kidding earlier on.

That's exactly how you ended up here, sprawled on the black fuzzy sheets. The softness of the fabric against you skin only adding to Billies actions. Which currently was teasing. Your whine was heard for maybe the 5th time now. But she needed to savor this. Your taste your scent. Her face was right infront of your cunt, having her nose bump your clit purposefully. Sending you absolutely mental.

"Billie-" Your whiney voice echoed throughout her ears, her mind. Her soul. And all movement stops. Her eyes look straight up at you warningly. Your breath only gets caught in your throat, knowing where you fucked up. But too fucked out to correct. Her figure was still as anything, awaiting the propper words. Until you're whining again. Her head just shakes.

"That's no way to talk to me sweetheart." Her finger taps your thigh gently. "Do you not want this?" She knew damn well you did, but she needed you to say the word, needed you to address her properly.

"What do you call me baby. Go on, be good."

A small whimper is heard. Her finger slowly coming in line with your entrance making you snap out of your dazed state.

"Mommy."

"Louder." Her finger slides into you.

"Mommy!" You screech slightly, having your mouth hang open.

"Good. Girl."

She notices your reaction as she kisses around your pussy. "Don't forget to breathe." She whispers sexily, so slow with her words too. Her own breath fanning against the skin of your swollen cunt.

And that's all it took, for her fingers to move so insanely fast inside you. Her mouth coming to suck on your pussy lips, biting just a tiny bit. Your head flew back again, eventually feeling her soft hands move up your torso, so slowly, every action. Reaching a breast and squeezing. Your head starts to spin, her movements rapid.

Everything was happening in the speed of light as your orgasm approaches quick. Sending your head right back into the pillows as her tongue relentlessly moves against your clit. "Mommy, please let me cum.. please." Your breath was nothing but short finding any thought in your brain to be dead. She hums against you the vibrations not helping with the fact you had to hold on, until she grants you that permission you so helplessly need. "Mommy!" You scream out. "Cum." She growls against you.

Billie was so caught up in it she actually hadn't heard your voice asking. Her hands were gripped tightly around your thighs most definitely creating a mark. The way you smelt was like a drug, addictive. And the taste she could already feel on the tip of her tongue. "Need more." She then moans into you, desperate to taste you properly. You hadn't even overcome the last euphoric feeling.

When you feel her tongue stick deep inside you. Your eyes roll all the way back at this new feeling, her tongue was so warm and wet. Mixing with your previous orgasm. The way you tasted makes her own eyes roll back. If anything she was enjoying this more than you. Not to say you weren't, wriggling with pleasure underneath her. "T-too m-uhg!" A moan gets caught along your words as her finger move to spread your folds open, wide. Her tongue moving in and out of you faster. You were so loose currently and she was adoring it.

Loving how easily her tongue was slipping in. Your hole feeling stretched around her tongue. You begin to shake as the second one is coming, her nose bumping your clit as she moves. Making your brain fuzz over with pure pleasure. You gush into her mouth having her drink you like a thirsty dog, your body giving out in the process. She could care less that you didn't ask. Cuz like an addict she's not stopping tonight. Or ever.

She was going to drink you dry.

[nickeverdeen]

Game Over | Gamer!Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Pairings: Ellie Williams x fem!reader (romantic)

Type of fic: Smut, Romance, Humor, Fluff (I think?)

Warnings: Eat out, teasing

Summary: You decided to make a bet with Ellie and will do anything to make sure she loses

——————

The sun was setting over Jackson, casting a warm orange glow through the windows of the small house you shared with Ellie. The evening had settled into a comfortable routine—Ellie parked on the couch, PlayStation controller in hand, and you either beside her or lounging on the bed, content just to be in her company.

Tonight, though, you had a plan.

You sauntered into the living room, feeling the oversized hoodie you were wearing brush against your thighs. It was Ellie’s favorite—worn, soft, and slightly too big for you, but you loved how it felt, how it smelled like her. You knew she’d notice it the moment you walked in.

And she did.

Ellie glanced up from her game, her eyes narrowing as she spotted you. “Hey, isn’t that my hoodie?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, plopping down next to her on the couch. “Was your hoodie. Now it’s mine.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Oh, is that so? I’d like it back one day, you know.”

“Nah,” you replied, pulling the sleeves over your hands playfully. “It’s mine now. Besides, it looks better on me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips told you she didn’t really mind. “You’re lucky I love you,” she muttered, turning back to the screen.

You watched as she navigated through the game’s menu, fingers flying over the buttons with practiced ease. An idea popped into your head, one that made your smile grow wider. “Hey, Ellie.”

“Hmm?” she responded, not looking away from the screen.

“I’ve got a dare for you.”

Ellie finally glanced over at you, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity. “A dare?”

You nodded, trying to suppress the mischievous grin threatening to spill onto your face. “Yeah. If you lose this game, you don’t get the hoodie back. And… you have to take me out and pay for dinner.”

Ellie chuckled, shaking her head. “And what happens if I win?”

You shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Same deal. You win, I give you the hoodie back, and I have to suffer the ‘punishment’ of you paying for my dinner.”

Ellie considered this, her eyes narrowing in thought. “Alright, but there’s gotta be some ground rules. If you start getting in front of the TV, pushing me, or tickling me, the deal’s off.”

You held up your hands in mock surrender. “Anything else is fair game?”

Ellie nodded. “Anything else.”

“Deal,” you agreed, your mind already racing with possibilities as she started the game.

Ellie was good—really good, and you knew it. But that was part of the fun. You watched her play for a while, your gaze flitting between the screen and her focused expression, trying to find the perfect moment to make your move.

Ellie was so engrossed in the game that she didn’t notice when you slid off the couch and knelt in front of her. Her concentration was absolute as she navigated through the challenges on-screen, her fingers deftly moving across the controller.

It wasn’t until you tugged at her pants and boxers, sliding them down just enough, that Ellie finally noticed what you were doing. Her eyes widened, and she glanced down at you, her voice low and strained. “What the hell are you doing?”

You looked up at her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “You said anything else was fair game. Just trying to distract you.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, but she didn’t stop you. “You’re pushing it,” she warned, though her voice was shaky. “Is this too much?”

You paused, giving her an out, but Ellie shook her head after a moment. “No, keep going.”

With her permission granted, you leaned in, pressing your lips to her thigh before moving up, your tongue flicking out to taste her. Ellie gasped, her grip on the controller tightening as she fought to keep her focus on the game.

You took your time, teasing her with gentle licks and soft kisses, feeling the tension building in her thighs as she struggled to keep playing. You could tell she was trying to ignore you, to focus on the game, but every time your tongue dipped between her folds, she faltered.

Ellie bit down on her lip, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as you finally settled on her clit, swirling your tongue around it in slow, deliberate circles. Her hips bucked involuntarily, pressing herself closer to your mouth, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. You had her right where you wanted her.

She tried to keep her eyes on the screen, but you could see her struggling. Her movements were becoming sloppy, her timing off, and you knew it was only a matter of time before she lost the game.

But Ellie was stubborn. She clenched the controller harder, trying to regain her focus as you continued your assault. You pressed your tongue against her clit, harder this time, then flicked it, causing her to jolt. She let out a low moan, her head falling back against the couch for a moment before she forced herself to look at the screen again.

You decided to take it up a notch. Sliding two fingers inside her, you curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made her gasp louder. Ellie’s whole body tensed, and you knew she was close, her resolve crumbling by the second.

Ellie’s hands were shaking now, her fingers fumbling over the buttons as she desperately tried to finish the game before she finished herself. But it was no use. Her focus shattered completely as you sucked on her clit, and with a final, frustrated cry, she dropped the controller.

You didn’t stop, though. You kept going, determined to push her over the edge. Ellie’s hands shot to your hair, gripping tightly as she bucked against your mouth, her breaths turning into ragged, desperate moans.

“Fuck, I can’t—” Ellie gasped, her voice cracking as you pushed her closer and closer to the brink. “I’m gonna—”

Her words were cut off by a sharp cry as her orgasm ripped through her, her body trembling violently as she came on your tongue. You didn’t let up, working her through it until she was a quivering, breathless mess beneath you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ellie’s grip on your hair loosened, and she slumped back against the couch, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you climbed up onto the couch next to her.

“Told you I’d win,” you teased, your voice breathless but triumphant as you leaned against her.

Ellie shot you a look, still trying to steady her breathing. “You fucking cheated,” she accused, but there was no real bite to her words—just the lingering frustration of someone who had just lost a battle she wasn’t prepared to fight.

“Did not,” you shot back, grinning as you snuggled up to her. “You agreed to the rules.”

Ellie groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah yeah, whatever.”

You chuckled, leaning in to peck her on the cheek. “It’s your own fault for being so confident.”

Ellie huffed, but the irritation in her voice was fading, replaced by the playful glint that had been in her eyes earlier. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

You just grinned, shrugging. “Maybe.”

Ellie looked at you for a long moment, then, without warning, she lunged at you, pushing you back onto the couch and pinning you beneath her. “Maybe I can make you forget about that dinner.”

You laughed, though the sound caught in your throat as Ellie’s hands roamed over your body, her touch sending shivers down your spine. “I still remember,” you teased, though your voice was breathless.

Ellie smirked, her hands sliding under the hoodie you were still wearing. “Well, let’s see if I can change that.”

[fulcrum-art-fox]

What if Sabine and Ezra just continually trade the lightsaber back and forth between them

[loveyjelly]

Raw Roulette

CW // MDNI, SMUT, foursome, handjobs, blowjobs, piv, creampie, slight mentions of exhibitionism

(I changed the title because i love alliteration)

"Regretting inviting all of us over for dinner?" Rafayel teased, crawling over to you and trailing kisses from your collarbone to your neck. As much as you want to maintain your composure, you give in and let out a whine.

"Doesn't sound like it to me." Zayne smirked, as he kept your back pressed to his chest, both of you sitting up on your bed.

"Are you enjoying this?" Xavier's hand rested on your thigh, sitting on the edge of the bed and occupying the across Rafayel. He pushed the hem of your dress up to move his hands to your inner thigh.

The overwhelming sensation is starting a fire in your lower abdomen. "This wasn't supposed to happen." You sharply inhale, trying so hard to contain yourself. What would they think of you when they find out that you're enjoying being aroused by three men at the same time?

You didn't think that the night would end up with you being surrounded by barely clothed men vying for your attention, vying for you to make them feel good.

"Do you want us to stop?" Zayne's hot breath tickling your ear is getting you more worked up. Your breath hitched and you involuntarily squeezed your legs together, accidentally trapping Xavier's hands between your thighs. He gently moved one of your legs to separate them.

"Yes or no, Love. We need to hear it from you." Xavier's eyes still shined of innocence even in the dark lighting that matched the soon-to-be carnal atmosphere.

"Don't stop" You mumbled, unable to properly get your words out.

"Speak up, Princess." Rafayel took one of your hands and kissed the back of it.

"Please don't stop."

As if their brains synced together, they resumed with what they were doing except now there was nothing holding them back from having their way with you.

Rafayel started licking and sucking on your neck, marking you as if that was the only way he could make it obvious to the other two that he needs you more than they do.

Xavier's hands roamed across your thighs. He couldn't get enough of how they feel against his palm and how you shiver and gasp whenever his fingers would brush over your panties.

Zayne enjoyed when you arch your back from the pleasure since your ass pressed against his bulge every time you did. "Would you even be able to take all of us at the same time?"

"We can't make her too tired, she's going on a date with me tomorrow." Rafayel smirked as he watched the other two pause.

"Wait you said you were going to help me with a mission tomorrow." The grip Xavier had on your thigh tightened as he looked at you with a slight pout.

"And you promised me that we'd have lunch together at the restaurant near the hospital." Zayne's arm starts to snake around your waist, every inch of your back covering his chest.

"I didn't realize I had those plans all at the same date." Trying to explain yourself was a lot harder with the three of them looking at you, expecting you to either choose between them or come up with a compromise.

"I have an idea," Rafayel said. The grin on his face tells them that it was going to be something so outrageous. "Why don't we play Russian roulette with her pussy?"

"Elaborate" Zayne's interest was piqued. He's been waiting for your shared lunch for a few days now, no way was he going to let anyone else have your time but him.

"We take turns fucking her and the last man she cums on gets to have her precious time tomorrow."

"That sounds good to me, I'm surprised you were the one that came up with that idea." Xavier's soft but nonchalant tone made the comment sound more condescending.

"Are you okay with that?" Zayne looked for your approval. He didn't want to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable.

"Mhmm" You're already at your limit from the anticipation.

"Use your words, Miss" Rafayel coaxed.

"I'm okay with it" You obeyed, barely getting the words out without whimpering.

"You just don't want us to stop touching you, do you?" Xavier moved his hands to the soaked fabric of your panties. "Mmm already so wet for us, maybe we should let you cool down first."

"Yeah, if we keep going then you might cum as soon as you get one of our cocks inside you." Rafayel rubbed one of your arms as his lips tickled your neck while he spoke.

"I won't" You were just being delusional at this point. Having this many hands touching you and the filthy words being thrown around the room was enough to make you spill out.

"We're gonna hold you to that. Now, how do we pick which one goes first." Zayne's hands traveled from your waist up to your tits, earning a gasp from you.

"The last one that got here, should go first" Rafayel grinned at Xavier.

"For just 20 minutes!" He protested. "But I'm fine with that, I know she'll be a good girl and hold it in for me, won't you?" He gently grabbed your face to make you stare at his eyes as if it was to serve as an unspoken promise.

Xavier swiftly removed your underwear and immediately glided his fingers through your folds. Looking up at you again, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked off your slick like it was nectar.

"I can't take it anymore, please just let me have it." Your whole body shivered as Zayne started unzipping your dress, Rafayel helping him raise it above your head.

"Let you have what?" Xavier hasn't taken his eyes off you.

"I haven't heard her be this needy ever, I think I might get addicted to how you sound right now." You couldn't handle how Rafayel kept speaking while his lips are just a hair away from your neck.

Zayne remained quiet. He felt conflicted, you look so divine when your eyes are glazed with pure lust and ecstasy but he hated sharing you with the other two. He hated how they made you feel good too. Hearing you beg for Xavier just made him want to fuck you rough and raw in front of them and let them know that if you ever needed a good fuck, he'll be the one you'd call. Just him and no one else.

"Are you sure you want to skip that part?" Xavier asked. He loves eating you out but if you want him inside already then he can't deny you that. To him, your words are gospels that need to be fulfilled. If you want him to fuck you how you want it, then he's more than glad to do that as long as you don't cum.

Rafayel finally peeled himself off your side and reached something from your nightstand drawer. "I knew you'd have it here, maybe you were expecting this to happen." He handed you the bottle of lube and was stuck at your side again. "Go on, if you want him inside then you're going to have to help him out a little bit." 

Xavier was surprised Rafayel was helping you out when it came to him. He always saw him as a self serving diva or maybe he's doing it just for you.

You tug on the waistband of his boxers and pull them down, revealing his cock already so hard for you. "It's all yours, Princess. Come here." He pulled you away from the other men and positioned you on top of him, your hips hovered over his thighs to give you space for what you needed to do.

Xavier heard Zayne click his tongue and Rafayel sighs. He shifted his focus back to you, watching your hands as they shake while pouring the lube onto your hands.

"Relax, it's just me." His hand enveloped your wrist to stop it from shaking so much.

"We're here too" Rafayel grumbled and Zayne let out a soft chuckle at the comment. You turned your head to face him but Xavier used his free hand to cup your cheek and guide your sight back to him.

"He'll have his turn later. But for now, your attention is all mine." He leaned in and brought his lips to yours to give you a quick kiss for encouragement.

You heard Xavier's sharp inhale once his cock was in your palm. 

"Move your hand." He gently instructed, trying to focus on you despite the coldness of the lube and the warmth of your hand mixing.

The rustling of the sheets brought Xavier's attention to Zayne who is now getting closer to you again. "What? I can't let you two have all the fun" He places his hand flat on your shoulder blade, making you flinch from the sudden change in temperature.

"Don't overheat, Angel. You have a whole night to get through." He snuck up behind and planted a light kiss behind your ear.

"Don't leave me out!" Rafayel was right behind you but you can tell by the tone of his voice that he was pouting. "They might make the whole night all about them if we didn't interfere." He rested his head on your shoulder.

"Don't look at us like that, Xavier. We're just here to offer some...support." Something mischievous flashed in Zayne's eye. "No one said the others should stay back while it's someone's turn."

"Fuck" He muttered, the whole time your hand your hand stayed stroking his cock.

The banter between the three of them helped ease the tension that previously built up in your chest.

"Less nervous now, Love?" Zayne noticed that you weren't as shaky as before, stroking your hair and giving you a small smile.

"I can't wait any longer, can I put it inside?" Xavier got harder the more you stroked him. He felt like he couldn't breathe until you said yes to his plea.

You took your hand off his dick and nodded, preparing for what position he'd fuck you in. It was like you were their personalized and shared fuck doll. 

"I'm so sorry, Princess. I'm gonna have to be a little rough." Xavier was so worked up he couldn't even bother to ask anymore but he knew you'd tell him to stop if you weren't fine with it.

He flipped you over on your hands and knees. The view was a little embarrassing if you were going to be honest. The other two looked at you and you couldn't help but feel small.

"Didn't know you had that in you, Xavier" Rafayel mused. "Aw, little miss has watery eyes. Are you that needy for a good fucking?" He reached for your face and caressed your cheeks using his thumb.

"She deserves one." Xavier's tip was teasing your entrance.

"Xavier, please." You squeaked out.

"Oh, I can't wait until she's begging for me." Zayne grabbed one of your hands and placed your palm on top of his erection. "I'll have to settle with this for now."

Xavier slowly pushed his cock inside you, his movements got more urgent and firm but he still observed your reaction to know if he should continue.

A loud moan escapes your lips as he pushes himself in, making you take it up to the base. He started thrusting in a quick steady rhythm that made you grip the sheets. It had completely slipped your mind that your other hand was holding Zayne's dick.

"Easy there, Angel. Come on, you can please one more man, right?" He slowly guided your hand in an up and down rhythm that intentionally matched Xavier's thrust. He closed his eyes and pretended that he was fucking you already.

"Mind if I use this one?" Rafayel hooked his thumb inside your mouth prompting you to open it wider. "I know you'll take it so well." He scooted closer so you don't have to move, placing your free arm on his thighs for support.

"Ah, that's it. Take it at your own pace, Baby." Rafayel put his hand on the back of your head and enjoyed the sight of you swallowing his whole length. "Fucking impressive, you're so good at this." He praised your skills.

"You're clenching around me already." Xavier huffed.

"My turn." Zayne interrupted and put his hand on top of yours, stopping you from jerking him off. "I need to have this pretty little thing now." 

The three rotated positions. Like clockwork, you immediately had your hands on Rafayel's dick, stroking him at the same pace that Zayne had you do. Xavier had you in the same position as Rafayel but this time he's holding your hand.

"Mmm your mouth feels just as good, Princess." Xavier threw his head back from the immense pleasure. He never felt this good using his own hands. Maybe he can call you for help whenever he needs to masturbate.

You can hear Zayne's groans as he drilled your pussy like his life depended on it. "You're getting wetter. Don't tell me you're getting close."

Your moans are muffled by Xavier's cock, making it harder to tell Zayne that you're seconds away from cuming. You feel Zayne slow down. "Does my Angel want to cum?"

You couldn't answer back, you were too preoccupied. "Look at me" His voice was stern but still had a hint of gentleness behind it.

You took Xavier's dick out of your mouth and turned your head to look back at Zayne. He wished he could pause time right now. You looked so brilliant in your current pose. Your eyes are all watery, lips swollen, a mix drool and precum trickling from the side of your mouth, and two other men panting from the pleasure you gave them.

"I'll let you cum right now if you promise that you'll reschedule our lunch to a date that doesn't include other plans. Do I make myself clear, Angel?" His cock stayed buried deep inside you, it made it so hard to focus on what he was saying.

"I promise" You mumbled.

"Louder"

"I promise, Zayne. Please let me cum" You begged.

"Good girl. Now get ready to be fucked the way you deserve to be fucked." He starts thrusting again, his body remembering the tempo it was following earlier.

"Letting yourself lose just for her, how noble." Rafayel just had to poke fun at Zayne. Too bad he almost couldn't get the words out since he was panting like a dog that just played fetch for an hour.

"My Princess cuming on someone else's cock? I should've just forfeited earlier." Xavier tried to give you a cute pout but failed. Your mouth felt too good to joke around at the moment.

Zayne's cock was repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. You can feel your orgasm building up, coming in waves in your lower abdomen.

"Just let it all out, Angel. I'm close too." He kept the beat of his thrust the same to help you get to your peak.

"Zayne!" You exclaimed as you arch your back from the satisfaction, sending shivers all over your body. Your limbs twitched and you had Xavier and Rafayel help you hold yourself up. He continued going in and out until you felt him grip your hips tight, his warm cum covering every existing inch of your walls.

"Did that feel too good, Baby?" Rafayel grabbed your face and lifted it up to meet his gaze. You nodded. "I can tell, you couldn't even focus on us anymore."

"It's okay, Princess. But now we'll have to be a little selfish." Xavier kissed your shoulder and pinned you down on your back, your head barely on the mattress.

"You ready?" He positioned himself on top of you, slapping his dick against your pussy.

"Ready" You whispered.

He slid his cock inside, pushing out Zayne's cum. "Feels good to be back."

"Don't forget about me" Rafayel's fingers grazed your throat. He gets out of the bed and stands near the top of your head.

Xavier figured out what Rafayel wanted to do. He grabbed your waist and pushed you out of the bed by a few inches.

"Perfect." Rafayel wrapped his hand on your throat and slowly let your mouth and tongue do their thing. He had to get you used to that position first.

Zayne laid down and reached for your hand. "You did so well, Angel." Taking the back of your hand and tenderly kissing it.

Meanwhile, Xavier was barely hanging on by a thread. The sweet sound your moans make alone could've made him cum but fucking you was an option so he took it.

The original game plan has been derailed but none of the boys could complain. The sound of your gasps, whimpers, and moans echoing off the walls were like music to their ears.

You didn't have to move as Rafayel moved his hips and used your throat as a pussy. "No matter what you do you always feel so good." He pushed his cock down the back of your throat and held it there for a few seconds just to hear you gag and gargle spit.

"Oh, does that turn you on more? I felt you clench." Xavier thrusted faster, ready to give you another orgasm.

Zayne loved this lewd side of you. It was like you were their personal fuck toy just for this night. He can't deny that he had fun fucking you in front of other people. You really do bring sides of him he didn't think he had.

You couldn't tell Xavier that you were about to cum. The next best way was to put your hand on his forearm and squeeze it.

"I'm about to cum too, Princess." He said, it's like he read your mind.

"Fuck, me too." Rafayel moaned. "Squeeze his arm if you want all of us to cum with you, Baby."

You squeeze Xavier's hand until your nails dig into his skin.

"She says yes." Xavier and Rafayel shared a smirk.

In just a few seconds, you let go and experience another round of ecstasy. Your senses were almost non-existent after being pounded and choked by multiple cocks.

Xavier and Rafayel let out several loud moans as they slow down their thrust after reaching their peak. Both of them slowly pull out and immediately reach out to you to make sure you're okay.

The content look in your eyes and smile was a good enough answer to their question.

Rafayel scooped you into his arms and placed you in the middle of your bed. "Take all the time you need to rest, okay? You did such an amazing job." He reassured you, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.

Despite the guys being breathless and tired too, they still went out of their way to make sure you were well taken care of after. They'll also have to figure out how they'll fit into your schedule next week since the game didn't go as planned.

The thoughtful gestures, sweet words of affirmation, and future plans will have to wait because their favorite girl just fell asleep.

(Alexa, play Love Talk by WayV on loop)

(Technicallyyyy Rafayel won)

@queenashen

buy me coffee

[luveline]

if you are looking for spencer and bombshell requests, what about the first time a girl flirts with spencer after they start dating, but bombshell is fully secure because she knows her worth and understands that he’s a catch? if you need more ideas i can squeeze my brain really hard

love ur brain pls keep squeezing it <3 fem!reader

You’re the cheesy girlfriend no one expects you to be. You change your phone contact for Spencer to ‘My Sweet Boyfriend’ with a heart, you hold his hand in stupid places (though you’d done that before, sometimes), you bring him coffee, you fluster when he kisses your cheek no matter your disposition —you're overwhelmed in the honeymoon phase, and everybody’s surprised. 

“That’s not very cool of you,” Morgan says, having noticed your ducked head, your smile dripping with a private pleasure and your cheek still shining with Spencer’s quick kiss. He’s gone to find plastic cutlery. 

“I’m not that cool when it comes to Spencer,” you say. 

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” 

Morgan is as pleased for you both finally getting together as anyone, even if he finds it foreign. It is weird to suddenly be openly in love with each other, and likely stranger for the team to see you in anything that isn’t total calm collection. 

“He’s so lovely.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Morgan says, more earnest now as he slaps a rolled sandwich down in front of you. “He’s a catch. I asked for no mayonnaise, was I supposed to do that?” 

Emily tucks her seat in next to yours. “He’s totally trapped by that secretary again, I hate to tell you.” 

You turn around. 

“Why would you tell her that?” Morgan asks. 

“What?” 

You peer out of the office door, where Spencer’s being chatted to by a stunningly attractive secretary. She has dark skin and darker hair, alluring almond eyes that light her sweetheart face with a bright charm. “Oh, she’s getting prettier,” you say. 

You’ve got Spencer Reid locked in. Nothing in you doubts that he’s currently infatuated with you. You don’t even care when he laughs at her joke, or when she dips her head bashfully toward him. 

“You better go and get your man,” Morgan says. 

“What for?” 

“She’s flirting hard,” JJ says. She’s only just looked up from her phone. “He’s gonna start blushing.” 

As if. You turn back to the table, unwrapping the paper from your sandwich with a happy sigh. Spencer looks so cute when he blushes, his cheeks turn pink and he smiles like he’s being tickled, it’s adorable. If that pretty secretary wants to do the hard work for you, it’s her prerogative. He’s your boyfriend. 

“I don’t need to do anything, he’s fine,” you say. 

You’re cutting your sandwich in half when you feel a presence behind your back. A familiar hand closes around your shoulder, a voice in your ear, “Thanks for nothing.” 

You giggle at his embarrassed tone, turning your face up to his, immediately delighted by his pink-tinged cheeks and neck. “You looked like you were having fun!” 

“You’re not gonna pretend to be mad?” he asks, leaning over you to open your sandwich. He pulls out a sad looking tomato and a similarly wilted slice of lettuce and closes it again. “Did you want a drink? I can’t believe you.” 

“Spencer, did you want me to come and get you?” you tease. 

“It would’ve been nice of you. Drink?” 

You laugh again, tugging him down by the wrist. “No, Spencer, I don’t want a drink, just sit down. What was I supposed to do? I’m not gonna pull her off of you.” 

“But why?” he asks, nearly not quite pouting. “She asked me if it was too hot in here for me.” He sits in the chair beside you, his hand dropping to the soft inside of your thigh as he leans in imploringly. “If you cared about me at all–”

Everybody laughs, including yourself. He’s clearly joking, and for once nobody on the team mistakes it for ineptitude, which seems to cheer him up. He gives your leg a rather bold squeeze considering who he is and where you are, and again when you gesture for him to lift his face to plant a kiss on the ridge of his jaw. “I do care about you, Spencer. Sorry I wasn’t jealous. Should we try again?” 

He turns your face away from your coworkers, eye to eye. “You’re making fun of me.” 

His hand trails to your elbow. “No,” you say, your skin tingling under his touch. 

“I don’t believe you. And I know you need a drink, they didn’t send your bottle of water. I didn’t manage to find those forks, either.” 

He gets up again. He hasn’t so much as glanced at his own food, patting your back in a promise that he’ll return before he edges out of the office and into the station’s bullpen. You take a smug bite of your sandwich. You can’t hide it.

“Told you,” you say once you’ve swallowed. You hadn’t needed to do anything, and you really aren’t worried about other women. “He likes me a lot.” 

“Understatement of the year.” 

You send Morgan a loving smile. When you glance over your shoulder, Spencer’s taking the long way through the office to the water cooler.

[utterlyazriel]

an eternity, my love

eep! this is a bit longer than the last at just over 6k forgive me... but thank so much for all love on the first piece 🥹 and thank u for all your lovely ideas! i hope this does sum justice to the nonnie who asked for further miscommuncation... <3 part one here but u don’t need to read it to read this :)

How does one even begin to decide what to wear to dinner with a person, the person, who matched your soul perfectly?

When your friend had hunted her way through clothing stores of Velaris and stashed away a custom dress — far fancier than anything you owned — for the first date with her mate, you had laughed at her.

Now, staring at your closet in only your undergarments, you were beginning to envy her preparation.

Seriously, how are you supposed to choose?

You pick up your latest addition to your closet, a glossy dress the colour of red wine that reveals the length of your legs and planes of your collarbones— perfect for a night out dancing.

With a grimace, you place it back on the hanger. It was far more scandalous than you would want to be on a first date, even though — well, you’re sure that, being mates, Azriel would like anything you wore.

You heave a sigh. An uneasy prickle beneath your skin has you crossing your arms; it was almost alarming how badly you wanted to impress him. But… mating bonds were rare and powerful.

Almost as if you had summoned it — in fact, maybe you had — there’s a soft shimmer in your chest. Your beautiful glow, the bridge between you and Azriel humming to life. In a way you can’t explain, it’s as though you can feel him soothe across your mind, his soft touch full of assurances.

He’s comforting you. All your emotions must be shooting down the bond without your permission. Gods, that would take some getting used to. You wonder if he can feel your resounding pang of embarrassment as well.

You do your best to push back something less nervous, more of your excitement for the night to come — and you know, without even seeing him, he’s smiling.

After another moment of fussing, you decide on something simpler than your glossy night dress.

Comfortable black slacks with plenty of flow to them and a shirt you thought was one of your nicer ones. With the slightest touch ups to your makeup, you rush yourself out the door before you convince yourself to change all over again.

The Sidra keeps you company, a rush of water beside you as you wind through the streets of Velaris, eyes flicking up to take in the darkening sky. The sun was sinking below the mountain tops, rays tickling across the ridges.

And while you could admit that Velaris was very beautiful in the daytime, you were a true Night court citizen— and believed its true beauty came out at night.

Somehow, despite the lack of concrete plans made as you had ushered the male out of your office, you knew resolutely that you would be able to find him. You weren’t even worried about the timing of it all. It was… what was the word? Absurd. Insane. Utterly, breathtakingly incredible.

Sure enough, as you exit the alley and round the corner, your eyes falling on the sage green building you reside in for work, there he is; waiting for you.

You inhale a sharp breath. A thousand cells in your body fizz, hum, and glow, at the mere sight of him.

It's easy to understand just how he had garnered his dark reputation, the image of him every bit of the Spymaster of the Night Court — a title like Shadowsinger has never been so fitting for him.

He’s blurred at the edges, a thousand tiny wisps that blend him into the shadows of the nighttime. His wings stretch up behind, towering over his already tall frame, black as ink, and beneath his darkened attire, you can spot his tan skin. Your eyes drag up his neck, tracing his adam's apple, along the scruff of his sharp jaw until you reach his hazel eyes.

Your heart burns.

In the depth of it, you know, if he doesn't love you, he will undo you completely.

It's wholly terrifying to come face to face with — the intensity of the mating bond scorching through your mind like a fierce wind, burning embers left in its wake.

It's enough to make you pause, the definitive thought that doing this, offering him your heart and trusting him, could very well lead to your ruin.

Your chest squeezes tightly. You let your eyes drink in the Illyrian, the Male who waited so patiently for all those years and was prepared to wait years more, if you had asked.

Focusing, you pluck up that golden thread in your chest and hold it tightly. It heats and melts, hotter and hotter, and you know that any fear you have, you can conquer to be with him.

Ruination be damned.

—

Azriel notices you the moment your frame exits the alley, notices the moment you pause — has been able to feel you drawing nearer to him this whole time. Your every emotion is transparent to him through the bond between you, whether you’re aware of it or not.

You must not have the tightened mental shields he had come to be so familiar with over all his years. It makes sense; you are no warrior. Mental walls over your mind are not something you have ever had to concern yourself with.

Azriel vows it to be one of the things he teaches you. You deserved the privacy of your emotions, at the very least.

But... for now, Azriel can feel them all. It's why, as you round the corner, Azriel can feel your eyes on him and then, then he feels it.

The wash of fear that spills over your bond like icy water.

An old enemy rises within him. He grits his teeth, even as he feels the fear from you slide away and he tries to ignore the sting from an unhealed wound. But self-deprecation never seems to drown, no matter how much he tries to suffocate it within him.

He shifts his hands, relieved suddenly to have them covered up beneath gloves. His wings tuck in tighter, if possible, and he wills his shadows sternly to contain themselves. Something in the slightest baring of his teeth has them obeying. They shoot to his sides and make themselves scarce.

All this in time to greet you pleasantly as you bounce into view, sidling up before him with a shy grin. It's only been a few hours since he got his proper look at you and yet, you're every bit as breathtaking as you were earlier. More so, in fact.

It feels as though Azriel has never seen the sky before and you before him, are the first sunset of his life. You look so pretty that Azriel could probably gaze at you all evening if you so allowed him to.

And then, he remembers the pang of fear.

He doesn't waste time mulling over which detail of him had made you afraid — only that he would dim or change or hide any part of himself to stop it from happening again.

"Hello, again," You say, your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You have to tilt your head back to look up at his handsome face. His shadows swirl around him and despite his strict instructions, one still slips away to touch you.

You don't notice it circling your ankle, tentative and shy.

"Hello, again." Azriel echoes your words, unable to help his own glimmer of joy.

He wants to offer you his arm, his hand. Can feel it within him, down to the very marrow of his bones, the craving to be closer to you, to touch you, however he can.

Azriel swallows heavily and does what he has done over decades, over centuries; he takes the wanting and pushes it down, down, down.

The two of you begin to walk, side by side, with no destination in mind. Aimless and content at the same time.

Azriel doesn't need the bond to see the flittering of nerves hidden in your expression. The shadow still circulating around your ankle climbs higher, like it wants to comfort you too.

Azriel wills it to still, desperate to not scare you again. He drops his shoulders from his usual warrior posture in hopes of making himself a little smaller.

“You don’t need to be nervous.” He says reassuringly.

You steal a glimpse at him, your smile breaking into a grin. Your nerves are still potent but less so.

“Who says I’m nervous?”

Azriel smiles gently, his eyes dancing across your face as he reads your lie easily. “I do."

There's a scrunch between your eyebrows then, like he had seen during his time in your office earlier. Azriel places a hand on his chest, over the place where the glowing tug is strongest.

"I can feel it.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at his gloved hand, the cogs in your brain spinning and turning at a rapid rate. Still strolling, your hand rises slowly and touches to the same spot on your own chest. Azriel can feel his heart stutter at the sight, you holding the spot that connected you to him undeniably.

"You can?" Your gaze lifts to his face, puzzlement adorning your features. You frown and focus for a moment, staring hard into the distance — and Azriel feels a sudden twinge of disgust through the thread.

"Did you feel that?" You ask, eyes wide and curious.

Azriel nods wordlessly and he can't help but ask. "What is it you were thinking of?"

You look embarrassed for a moment, eyes averting to the ground. You chuckle awkwardly and tuck your hair behind your ears, glancing back up at the Male with a sheepish smile.

"Brussels sprouts."

Azriel blinks once, twice, and then has to turn to hide his smile. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough. It doesn't work, given how you make a small noise of indignation. He turns back, his politest expression on.

"Don't laugh at me!" You whine, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder. Your touch radiates through his body like a drop of golden sun, blazing warm.

"You're right," Azriel hums, his lips twitching as he presses back his smile. "My apologies, my lady. This is important knowledge I should be filing away. I swear on my life I will feed you no brussels sprouts this evening, or any in the future."

He wants to nudge your shoulder with his own, just to touch you, wants to reach out as easily as you had. But his shadows slip before his self-control does, skittering out along onto your shoulder and giving you a small shock and Azriel remembers himself. His fists clench tightly at his sides.

You walk side by side all evening, like two planets in orbit — close, oh so close, but never quite touching.

—

The first date you share is nothing short of… wonderful.

Resolutely and overwhelming good, the entire date you can't help but feel as though your very soul is singing, a thousand particles blithesome at the nearness you get to share with Azriel. He's surprising in a manner of ways.

Firstly, he's terribly quiet.

Next to him, you look quite the blabber-mouth, no matter how much he insists he enjoys it. His dark eyes are intense as they watch you closely, soaking in every word that passes your lips, and yet, beneath it, his dry sense of humour comes out to play. There's the occasional tease, almost as if just to see if he could make you flustered. (He could, easily).

With a Male as beautiful as him, suited to your very being in every way, it's nearly unbearable how much you ache for him. How much his very attention creeps down your neck and makes every nerve along your spine tingle.

You know it will take some time to get used to his unwavering and devoted attention.

There’s… just one small, itty-bitty, tiny problem.

He doesn’t touch you.

Throughout that whole first evening, you had noticed it somewhat— a flex in his gloved hands, a moment where his wing strayed too close only to be pulled back in a flash, even his shadows, darting out to be near you but never quite touching you as they had on that first meeting.

His hands reach out but they do not find you.

At first, you believed it was a first date thing. Azriel was, first and foremost, a gentleman, and you thought perhaps, his skirting touch, like his hand lingering over the small of your back but not touching it, was to be polite. Courteous and gracious.

Then, you had seen him just two days after that date, all bundled up in your giddiness that it had managed to slip your mind.

The two of you had spent the day together, traversing through the market — before you quickly found a quieter space for your mate as it became clear that large bustling areas, such as the Palace of Threads and Jewels, were not so suited to his tastes.

As you had tugged him out of the crowd, laughing over your shoulder at how he fought to keep his broad wings from knocking into anyone else, the thought suddenly snapped back into you.

Though you yearned to link his arm with your own, to interlace your fingers with his, you remembered his hesitance. Remembered the hover of his gloved hand.

And so, you dropped his arm the moment you cleared the crowd.

A hurt warbled deep within you to so do and knowing you were not the deftest at schooling your expressions, you hid your face so you could contain your childish reactions. You huffed at your own upset. What matter is it if your mate has no affinity to touch?

Truly, it was a miracle to have found a mate at all, you tried to scold yourself. You would not take him for granted for a moment, not even if it was not quite the picture of perfection you had envisioned.

Rooted deep in you was a truth; you could abide by this, abstain to his level of comfort for years, for millennia, if it made him happier.

The fabric of the mating bond, connecting the two of you intrinsically, made it so you would not want it any other way.

It's a decidedly Azriel thing.

He always wears the gloves, he never touches you more than he has to, and he's got... this really specific look when you're doing a terrible job of hiding your emotions.

As he had vowed, Azriel had set about teaching you how to build the mental walls up within your mind, brick by brick by brick. While it would help you hold against daemati if that loathsome situation should ever arise, it would also shield you from your mate.

It would protect you from having your emotions ripped out for him to see, no matter how much you held back — if it was in your mind, it would travel down the bond.

So, the wall had to be built. It had been tedious, tricky, and tiring work. Yet every time you would feel yourself ready to throw in the towel, Azriel would lean in closer, his hazel eyes softened, and his hand resting upon your arm, thumb swatching up and down, to encourage you.

"I know it is tiresome," He had mused, that faint smile twitching at his lips as you scowled at the ground. His thumb was still moving, still drawing light circles on your bicep. The skin beneath it blazed with warmth. "But it is worth it, that I can promise. You deserve this privacy, my dear. I would never wish to take it from you."

My dear, my dear, my dear— the words had sunk into your sternum and bloomed, bright and golden.

It's enough to hold onto, his kind affections. The sweet shape of his mouth when it says your name. The way his lashes kiss in the corner when he can't hold back his smile.

It's enough to soothe yourself over. To take the lack of touch on the chin and swallow down your desire for more.

It's why— why you can't help yourself— why you couldn't tear your eyes away from Azriel's hand where it touches Cassian's arm.

You're meeting his family today, which you've quickly realised doesn't mean his mother or father but instead means... the literal Highlord of the Night Court.

There are several warriors crowded around the cramped entrance room to the River House. Each of them is taller than you, and two of them with the very same huge wingspans that you've come to revere on your own mate.

Your usual talkativeness has been dimmed in your shock, though, really, it shouldn't be such a surprise. Azriel is a force to be reckoned with, honed over decades, and the Spymaster of the Night Court. You know these things. The company he keeps makes sense.

Somehow... still, seeing them all together leaves you strikingly speechless. The legion that protects your home — a family.

Rhysand greets you first, dapper in his dark attire, his violet eyes equal parts calculating and welcoming as he steps forward and offers his hand.

Despite the fact you have never bowed to him before, you still have to repress the urge. His power is overwhelming, the very night lapping at his edges and you're suddenly very grateful to be meeting him as a friend and not as a foe.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rhysand's voice purrs out, soft as silk. When you place your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a polite kiss to the back of your hand.

"Any friend of Azriel's is a friend of mine."

You can feel your own heart thundering in your chest. Azriel hovers behind you, his presence soothing in itself. You can't see it but his wings are outstretched towards you, cocooning around you ever so slightly. A shadow hovers behind your shoulder, just out of sight.

"I— the pleasure is mine, my Highlord." You manage to make yourself speak.

You almost wish you hadn't when your words inspire a burst of laughter from one of the others behind Rhysand, the other Illyrian. He's tall, his hair dark but longer than your mate's own.

As your hand is dropped, Rhysand turns to scowl at the Male laughing, and you only grow further perplexed when he gives a whack against the other's shoulder. They begin to squabble for a moment — and you don't even hear Azriel move until he's speaking, his lips right by your ear.

"You'll have to forgive Cassian." His voice is low, raspy in a way that sends a zing down your spine. You shiver lightly. "He can be well-mannered at the best of times. But I promise he isn't laughing at you."

The two Males seem to tune back into Azriel's words, even though they had been whispered for you specifically.

"It's true!" The Illyrian, Cassian you now know, pipes up. He brandishes a devilishly handsome grin at you, with his hands held up in defense. "I apologise. It just still makes me laugh to see someone address this one so formally."

You blink. "But... he is the Highlord."

Azriel speaks again, bent over still to talk in your ear, but much less of a whisper this time. "Rhys is our Highlord but he does not bother with such formalities."

"And," Cassian interjects, lugging a punch into Rhy's shoulder, much like the other had done to him not a moment before. "Before he was the o'mighty Highlord, he was our friend."

Cassian says the word o'mighty with such an air of sarcasm that you can't help but glance at Rhys, sure he wouldn't take such disrespect. But around you, there are only easy grins.

"Might we move to somewhere more comfortable than the doorway," Azriel speaks up from behind you, his voice dry. "Unless that is, you're all hoping to do one-on-one greetings with her?"

There it is, the dry sense of humour you've come to adore. The group before you seems to grumble, as if they were quite keen on the one-on-one meetings but begin to move through the house.

One of the group dips back to walk beside you and you do your best not to repeat your past mistakes, even as your eyes widen almost comically. Azriel chuckles silently to himself, feeling your polite astonishment down the bond.

"It's so great to finally meet you.” Feyre, your Highlady greets you, her pretty face rife with glee. She seems genuinely very happy to make your acquaintance. "Azriel has told me all about you."

You stumble in surprise, your eyes casting back to Azriel behind the pair of you. His eyes are fixed on Feyre, narrowed at her blatant betrayal, his shadows swirling around him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and you smother a laugh.

When his eyes shift over to you, you're positively delighted at how his cheeks have turned the lightest shade of ruby.

"Feyre is very persuasive when she wants to be." He murmurs, almost grumbling. You turn back to the Highlady and she grins at you, devious and captivating all at once.

It’s a whirlwind once you reach one of the many living rooms, each member of Azriel’s family all very eager to shake your hand.

Cassian grips it firm, his grin still on the side of wicked as he tells you he’s been waiting years to find the woman who could contain Azriel. Nesta, his mate as you find out, is a fierce kind of pretty with a grip as strong as Cassian’s. She tells you welcome to the family with the smile of a shark.

Morrigon is next, breathtakingly gorgeous, and every bit as charismatic as Azriel had described. You don't catch the glimpse between Mor and Cassian, not the beat of relief they both feel at your arrival in their lives— in Azriel's life.

It's swallowed up in her words, going a mile a minute. She jumps about, like popcorn in a pan, overly keen to finally speak to the one whom the Mother deemed worthy of Azriel’s heart. Where are you from? What do you do? How did you meet?

“Mor,” Azriel warns, after her twelfth consecutive question about your life. He hasn’t moved from his protective position behind you, close enough you can feel the heat of his body. His wings had brushed your shoulder just once.

“Yeah, Mor,” Rhys jeers. He nudges his cousin in the side playfully and Cassian snickers behind the group. “Give the girl some time to breathe.”

Even with all of Azriel's masterclass on who you would be meeting, it's still terribly overwhelming just trying to keep track of them all. They're each such strong spirits, each with seemingly a thousand battles in their past and far more years with Azriel.

On top of this is the fact you met both your Highlord and Highlady so casually in one single afternoon. It's difficult to not be daunted by the group that is so clearly intertwined with each other on a deeper level altogether— bonded by devastation and choosing each other through love.

Try as you might, you can feel the seed of doubt, of insecurity, make a home between your ribs.

You clamp down the shields you've spent the last few weeks learning, building the wall up and holding it tight. It's silly to feel dismayed because these Fae, these friends, know your mate better than you do.

Azriel had told you he had been waiting for you for five hundred years. For the first time since you've met him, you wonder if he was ever disappointed.

And then— then, you see it.

Azriel's hand on Cassian's arm. Then the half embrace they share, a hand on each other's neck as Cassian grins, wild and fierce, and presses his forehead against Azriel's own; brothers, sharing a moment of euphoria at the other finding his long-deserved happiness.

You should be soaking in the smile Azriel hides from you too often, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. But instead, you can't see past it, can't stop the loop in your own mind as it prints a fact over and over and over.

It isn't an Azriel thing; it's a you thing.

He doesn't touch you.

The mental walls in your mind feel paper-thin as a fresh kind of agony ripples through your chest. The soft rejection of a mate stings, a papercut on your very heart. You can feel it warble through you and know, terribly, the exact moment that Azriel feels it too.

His head whips around, his dark shadows that surround him suddenly spinning and flitting faster than before— a couple dive across the room to you.

You stand up and the chair scrapes noisily beneath you.

"I—" You say before you realise you haven't planned an exit or an excuse in the slightest. Azriel's gaze burns into you. You turn to Feyre instead, who had been talking across from you when you rudely stood up.

"I'm so sorry, I just—" Some excuse, any excuse! "I think I— left the stove on."

It's a lie. A complete utter lie that fools no one in the room as you retreat from it hastily. None of them try to stop you though, which you're thankful for. Each of them watches, every expression slightly concerned as you hurry out of the room, your feet walking backward rapidly until you bump into the door frame.

You pass through it with your eyes on the floor, knowing that all of the eyes are on you. You know the ones you can feel searing into your soul are Azriel's.

You leave the River House. You walk along the Sidra, your steps hurried and your chin tucked low. It hurts. It hurts the feeling inside you. A tear streaks down your cheek, unbidden, and collects on your jaw. You wipe it away meanly.

The sight of your apartment door is an overwhelming comfort, one that has you sighing aloud as you rush up to it, your fingers already digging around in your pockets for your key.

And like always, you never hear him coming.

"What happened?" Azriel asks, his voice almost pained.

You give a little yelp of surprise and whip around, remembering half a second later that there's still evidence on your face of your tears. Azriel grows characteristically still, his hazel eyes fixed on yours as you sniffle for a moment, aggravation beginning to creep in.

He could feel everything from you and you got... what? Whatever he deemed fit to offer? How is that fair?

His usually wispy shadows are inkier than usual, almost tornado-ing around his shoulders. They keep leaping out towards you before being caught in an invisible net, a barrier between you and them.

Even as Azriel remains motionless, his eyes are the opposite—they jump around, searching, hunting, begging to find the cause of your pain. Had it been one of his friends?

"Please," He tries his words again.

His heart throbs painfully when you finally find your key and turn your back on him without a word, unlocking your door and pressing your way inside. He follows quickly, wings tucked in tight, unable to keep his shadows at his side this time. They whiz to you, circling your ankles protectively.

"Please," Azriel says, an anguished growl to his words. "What hurt you? I will— my friends, if they said something— if it was someone, I hunt them down and make it right for you."

You inhale sharply and when you speak, your tone is cold in a way you have never used before with Azriel. You say the words without thinking.

"It would be impossible to hunt yourself, Azriel."

Regret howls through you like a hurricane the moment you say the words. You don't mean to be mean, jealous, or whatever unseemly emotion you can't stop from sprouting in your chest, growing in size, tangling into your heartstrings like twisted gnarled vines. It hurts.

You turn back to him, mouth open. No words come out.

Hurt is slashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his shadows tucked in tight. It's as though he's blended into the very air, the wispy edge of him threatening to retreat into his own shadows.

All his emotions on display just for a moment, before they're schooled away. Tucked away, hidden, not for you to see.

Inside, your hurricane howls again, this time in pain.

You can tell he feels it, even as you mentally gather your bricks. It isn't fair. How can he have every bit of you and you get what he pleases to return?

You want to know him completely, want to see every part of his rugged, weathered soul, and love him anyway. It's an untold type of agony to have him deny you.

"My love," His feet finally move, his wings almost dragging on the floor as he steps forward, slowly, as though he was afraid he might spook you.

"Tell me how to fix this pain." He pleads. His gloved hands are held out, palms up and suddenly, he looks nothing like a warrior. Just a Male, afraid of losing what is most dear to him. You shake your head, like a child, and keep building your brick wall.

"Please don’t keep this from me," He takes another step forward, his shadows sent awry as they dart across to you. You can feel them on your calves, on your arms, feel the tiny kisses they leave. Azriel speaks again, voice low. "My love, I can feel your pain.”

You can't help how you screw your eyes closed, the ache in your chest unbearable— made worse when you know he can feel it too.

"That is my problem." You utter the words quietly, eyes still clenched shut, knowing he can hear you. He takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat of his enormous frame, his wings bracketing around you. "I cannot hide anything from you."

Azriel makes a noise, a punched-out wounded sound that reverberates down the bond.

"My love," He murmurs for the third time. Down the bond, you can feel his sweet love, his golden gentle feelings travelling along to assure you. "I would not wish for you to hide anything from me."

“But you hide everything from me." You whine, eyes finally crinkling open. Azriel stares down at you, his eyes softer than they've ever been. You can see the hurt swimming in them, the hurt you've caused. Still, you speak.

"You hide your emotions. You hide your touch, yet you give it willingly to your friends." You share each ugly thought with him, whispered as you gaze into his face to search for your answers.

Lifting your hands, you curl your fingers around his wrists tentatively. Azriel swallows heavily, his eyes dancing down to where you're touching him. You slide your hands forward, dragging the pads of your fingers over his pulse, along his palm, til your hands are holding his gloved ones.

"Is there some test I don't know about?" You ask, your focus on your intertwined hands. "Is there— do I have to earn this?"

"No," Azriel chokes out the word suddenly. You look up at him. He clears his throat and you feel his hands grip yours back, surer and stronger than you had. "No, I'm sorry. There is no test, nothing to prove you deserving of this. I just..."

His words trail off and you watch as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if gathering his courage. His hands slide from yours, pulled backward and you nearly feel the urge to cry once more— before you realise he's removing his gloves.

The skin of them is warped, you realise acutely with horror. The skin of his hands is swirled and mottled, an injury long healed but scarred for eternity. Azriel is watching your face closely, holding his hands close to his chest as though he was prepared to hide them away at the first flicker of fear.

You're grateful for the link between and all your shoddy attempts at blocking him out. Your love and your unwavering devotion drifts along the bond.

Azriel shudders, his wings giving the tiniest shiver. Slowly, gently, he reaches out towards you. You feel his hands, the unruly scarred feel of his skin sliding along your jaw to hold it tenderly. He has never held you like this before.

He cradles your face gently — like his hands have never held weapons of war, like they aren't twisted and marred with a memory he can't forget, like they're worthy of holding something so precious.

Azriel holds you as if you're holy — and he's come to kneel at your altar.

"I was afraid of what you would think." He admits. His voice is hoarse, gravelly as he fights off the lump in his throat. "I— on the first day we met, I felt your fear along the bond and—"

"It was not of you." You interrupt him, your hands jumping up to cover his own where they hold you. Azriel inhales sharply, eyes darting to watch.

But you pay him no heed, the palm of your hand covering his like a lover would. You let your thumb soothe up at down the ridges of his skin. You let your love ripple along the bond.

"It was not fear of you, Azriel." You repeat, your voice soft. His eyes are still fixed on your joined hands. His wings have begun to pick up, no longer drooping behind his back— you're not sure if he even notices.

"It was fear for how strongly I already felt for you." You lean into his hand and Azriel lets you, lets the length of your nose nuzzle into the touch of his hands — something no one in all his years of living had ever done before.

"It was fear that you already could ruin me," The words are murmured. "And that I would let you."

You whisper his name to pull his wide-eyed gaze from where his hands touch you and his hazel eyes burn into yours. Every whitened scar on his skin, every eyelash, the adorable pinch between his eyebrows; you drink it all in and smile at him. Azriel, your mate.

"Azriel, I chose this despite that fear. I choose you.”

Azriel quivers at the words, at your unflinching tone and suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, time moving around you, untouching, with such a perfect grace.

“I choose you too,” He murmurs, an emotion so strong a fire of possessiveness streaks down the bond. This time, you can feel his wall melt away, allowing you access to all he feels — his mountain of fear and his melting relief.

“Forgive me—” He begins and you laugh without meaning to, cutting him off.

“Stop,” you say, the word light and as pretty as your grin. “We keep doing this to ourselves, tying ourselves in knots over and over.”

Azriel laughs, his lips twitching into a smile as he allows himself to stroke his thumb lovingly over your cheek. The way you melt beneath it, your lashes fluttering and heart burning so brightly he can feel it in his own chest too— Azriel knows this longing will long outlive his body.

“We do,” He agrees. He dips his head a little lower, probably the only apology you’ll let him have, and inhales shakily. His hands shift across your face, down to hold your chin, his fingers pressed together tightly to hide the way they quiver.

“Then let me apologise in another way,” He murmurs, his voice closer to playful. “In a way I’ve been selfishly depriving you of.”

And when he kisses you, it’s with a reverence that softens all your corners.

His lips are plush and sweet, and with the way he dedicates himself to your bottom lip, you can’t help how you sigh into his mouth. He finds home in the curve of your mouth.

It’s delirious the way he kisses once, twice, three times like he’s hungry for something found only in your lips.

Your hands stagger forward, leaving his own to wind over around his neck. Your fingers curl up, raking through the hair on the nape of his neck — feeling the shiver that travels up his spine, his wings giving a little flare out.

He kisses you breathless, one hand abandoning your jaw to wrap snugly around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

When he pulls back, something within you glows molten gold at the panting that leaves his lips. He’s gazing at you, his hazel eyes alight in a way you haven’t quite seen before. His wings shift behind his shoulders, curling forward to wrap the two of you together, not quite touching.

Your heart thrills. You grin, your lips still just an inch apart as Azriel nudges forward, his own twitching in that way when he fights his smile. His lips brush yours, his smile barely held back.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” He says, sweet and low, allowing the smile to finally pull his pretty mouth up at the corners.

“Or should I make it up to you a little more?”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, chaste and gentle.

“Mmm,” your eyes are bright as they peer up at him, full of playful mirth and adoring affection. “You're forgiven but... I think you should make it up to me, just a little more.”

Azriel willingly obliges, his smile as sweet as the moonlight.

—

some people i thought might want to be tagged :)

@strangerstilinski @astoriaviviane @lana08 @florence-end @lportes-22 @torrick17 @florencemtrash @sidthedollface2 @seafrost-fangirl @goldenmagnolias @jeweline16 @meshellexplosionmurder @michellexgriffey @susiekern @toobsessedsstuff @fxckmiup @littlebookbengal @elenapril0502 @glitterypirateduck @hnyclover @technoelfie @itsapunklife @coffeecares

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Reader being really annoying to Bucky, but an absolute sweetheart to everyone else. When he’s complaining about it, he calls the reader “a brat.”

Nat pauses his rant and deadpans, “She’s not a brat, she’s your brat.”

Bucky tracks the reader down in the compound and tests Nat’s theory. She’s right, the reader is Bucky’s best.

(I’m so sorry, this has been brainrot material for me for over a week, now, and I just had to share it with someone else.)

Hey, sorry for the late reply. This one had my attention immediately but when I tried to write something it came out as shit thing so… yes. Absolutely love that idea! Bucky would definitely do that.

His brat | B.B

You’re such a brat, aren’t you? At least Bucky thinks so until Natasha tells him that you’re not just a brat, you’re his brat.

Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Brat!Reader

Wordcount -> 944 Words

Warnings -> Reader being a brat, idiots in love, teasing

Events -> Hot Bucky Summer | Week 10 | "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh.", Gagged, Voyeurism, Somnophilia | @buckybarnesevents

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You’re a brat, at least would someone ask Bucky, that would be his answer. You tease him, call him grumpy, grandpa.

You earn a rolling of his eyes whenever you do it, now it only needs you walking past him and he is already knowing that you’re going to say anything, whatever it is — it’s a teasing him.

Secretly he hopes that it means something, but being a brat doesn’t mean anything right? Maybe you just don’t like him? Or you just have another problem with him and don’t tell him about.

As bad as your teasing and joking can be, he feels his heart racing and a smile almost creeping in his face when you’re around, or just walk into a room.

But once again you teased him — this morning. You had a bunch of magnets and put them all on his metal arm, giggling as you also put wiped cream into his hand and slid your fingers over his forehead until he threw his hand into his face.

It needed a while to clean the arm and himself. And now he is sitting with Natasha on the couch, watching television while they talk.

“She is such a brat, always doing this jokes. And this morning! She put wiped cream on my hand and tickled me! Plus my whole arm was stuck with magnets,” he complains, moving his hand over his face and arm to make it more clear.

Natasha chuckled, pointing to the underside of Bucky’s arm. “There is still one stuck,” she smirks as he removes it with a groan.

“See! Such a brat this girl,” he mutters, throwing the magnet to the table but unfortunately for him it gets stuck on his finger and he throws his head back annoyed. “Even the magnets themselves tease me!”

The red haired woman nods her head, smirking. “You know… she isn’t a brat…” she says. Bucky turns his head to face her, narrowing his ocean blue eyes. “She is your brat, Bucky.”

Bucky shakes his head. Maybe Natasha is right? But maybe you just hate him and that’s why you’re teasing him all the time.

But after the talk he wants to find out if it’s true, are you his brat? Bucky doesn’t follow you around, but whenever you’re training or during dinner or if you’re in a room together he watches you intensely.

Around Steve you’re all sweet, asking him about his day, laughing with him, and being the sweetest one you can be. Even with Sam you’re nice, helping him out if he asks.

Not even the new agents are teased by you as much as you tease and annoy Bucky.

And with the girls you’re nice anyway. Bucky knew already, but it hits him then — you’re really not a brat, you’re his brat.

He then makes a plan, there are two options you act around him like you do, right? Either you’re head over heels in love with him as well or you’re really just annoying around him — and he hopes it’s the first option.

Bucky waits in the floor as you get up from the couch, excusing you by your friends because you need some more snacks.

As you walk out of the room and into the floor you’re already pushed into the wall with a soft yelp. Ocean blue eyes stare into yours and you notice the handsome face of Bucky with a wide grin on his pink, plump lips.

“Hi, doll!” He grins, his big hands holding you by your hips and pressing you firmly against the wall. “Thought I would thank you for the wiped cream this morning.”

“U-uhm, yes. You’re welcome,” you stutter, being catcher off guard. “Y-yes I- uhm.”

“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?” Bucky asks, his lips only inches away from yours and a whimper leaves your lips. His voice is low and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as his eyes move from yours to your lips and back to your eyes.

“N-no,” you whimper, almost leaning into him to chase his lips for a soft kiss but he leans back with a grin.

“Mhm, not? Then do you want to tell me why you’re always such a brat?” Bucky asks, one of his hands trailing up and down your side, causing goosebumps all over your body.

“I- I- Bucky, please,” you say, your tone pleading as you look over his handsome face to his plump lips — they look just so kissable.

“What do you want, doll?” He is such a tease right now, and you know he won’t give you what you want unless you ask him for it — ask him to kiss you.

“K-kiss me, please,” you whine, pouting softly as he chuckles.

“Kiss, that little bratty mouth of yours?” You nod, hands sliding to his chest to fist his shirt and pull him closer to you. “Yeah, always such a brat and now begging for me to kiss you.”

“Please Bucky, your brat, only your brat, always your brat,” you mumble, leaning closer to him. And then he finally brings his face closer to yours.

“Yeah, that’s it, doll. My brat, only mine,” he smiles, pressing his lips softly against yours and you sigh softly. After so much teasing and trying to get his attention, to be close to him — he finally kisses you. “But we should talk about your attitude, my sweet brat. Maybe a punishment would help you to be a good girl for me, even though I really like your bratty side.”

Reblogs and comments are really appreciated, as well as likes. But if you want to support your content creators, comment and reblog, it will make them way happier!

//Taglist// @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @im-alestan @holylulusworld @iris-xoxo-juhu @fanfictionreaderfan @lives-in-midgard

@whatever-lmaoo some fluffyyyy for you!

[bloodsuckingfiends]

So about those smutty drabble ideas …

Astarion tries to seduce Tav but finds out he would be her first. So he will take even more special care of them. He does like Tav, after all. Whether he admits it to himself or not.

A Failed Plan

A/N: He is so smitten and doesn't even know it and I love it. Also, this came out longer than I originally intended oopsies

Warnings: blood, loss of virginity so smut, praise, Tav is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns

The metallic tang of blood, Tav's blood, hits Astarion within seconds. He withdraws himself from her core and she whimpers at the loss of fullness within her. His carmine gaze looks down to where they are joined, crimson staining both of their skin.

"Tav darling, is this your first time?" his voice is uncharacteristically soft.

Tav's cheeks and chest flush, and she takes a shaky breath, "Yes. I'm sorry, I should have told you." She flounders over her words, nervously looking up at the vampire above her.

"Shh sh sh," he hushes, his hand coming up to brush hair from her cheek, "it's alright, I just want to make sure so I can properly take care of you." A shiver shoots down his spine at the realization that he actually means what he's saying. That he does indeed want to make sure that during Tav's first time, she is cared for. That she doesn't regret it.

A small smile eases it's way onto Tav's lips as he reassures her, and her breathing begins to even out again. The beat beneath her ribcage slows, still an anxious beat, albeit less anxious now.

"If I would have known, I would have eased my way in, " Astarion drags the head of his length through her slick folds, tapping it gently against her clit, then notching it at her entrance. "Made sure that you would be able to easily take me."

Tav whimpers, tears pricking at her eyes as he slides into her, inch by painful inch. He was rather large. Larger than she expected he would be, especially for her first time.

Astarion's long fingers drag up Tav's arm, lacing with her own fingers. He dips his head to her cheek, lips pressing to the blushed skin in a soft kiss, following a path down her delicious neck, "How are you doing, pup?" His cool breath tickles her ear and she shudders.

"You're big." Tav murmurs, her thighs tightening around his waist.

"Yes, but look at you taking me so well, sweetheart." He leans back a little, making a show of watching as he slowly pulls out before easing back into her again, "so soft and warm."

"Please, more." Tav whispers a bit brokenly, her eyes meeting his. Pleasure, rather than pain, begins to build in her belly, and her brows knit together from it. Astarion's movements pick up, and he leans forward again to hold Tav against his chest. She tucks her face in the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering shut. Her hands come up to hold him back, resting on the expanse of his shoulder blades. He tenses as she touches his scars, before relaxing into her.

He snakes a hand between them, his dexterous fingers rubbing circles against her swollen clit. Tav mewls against his neck, hips bucking against his.

“Think you can c-come for me?” he tries to keep his voice steady, tries not to stutter, but he feels himself hurtling faster toward the precipice.

She moans an affirmative, her heels digging into his ass a sign that she’s close.

A few more circles and she comes, a loud cry escaping her lips as her thighs quake around his waist.

Astarion’s not far behind, and as she clenched around his cock, he falls over the edge, painting her insides with his seed.

He slows his hips, the both of them panting softly as they part from each other, Astarion rolling to the side and gently pulling Tav to rest against him.

“We can’t stay out here-“ she starts to protest before he cuts her off.

“It’s only for a moment, darling. Just relax for a moment.” His fingers mindlessly play with the ends of her hair, as she settles against him, and he listens to her heartbeat steady itself.

As she lays against him, beneath the stars, he begins to worry that his initial plan, just may be falling apart.

[discotitsposts]

Just Ecstasy

18+ bdsm, bondage, kinks, etc so mdni

she her pronouns used

me: i’m not gonna write smut for a while probably

also me: makes this fic

You loved your boyfriend. Really loved him. You would do anything. Well, almost anything.

The idea had seemed fun at first. A kinky little game only you two could know about.

When Spencer had held your wrists together waiting for your permission, you took a breath and said “Go ahead.”

However, the second he clicked the metal cuffs around your wrists you freaked out and tried to pull them off. You hated the feeling. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel safe with Spencer. That was one of the strongest feelings you felt with him.

In one quick motion he had unlocked the cuffs and held you saying over and over again, “It’s alright, they’re off, you’re ok.”

You two hadn’t spoken of this again.

Until you thought about it. You had wanted that so badly you had just been nervous. Of what exactly? You didn’t know. You wanted to try again.

A week later when Spencer gets home, you’re waiting in your sexiest lingerie smiling, holding up a pair of handcuffs that may work better for you. They had a soft padding on the inside. Not as harsh as just metal. You had picked them up at a sex shop earlier that day just for the occasion.

Spencer walks over to you and kisses you. “What’s all this?��� He asks.

“You should know smarty pants.” You tease handing him the cuffs.

“I thought you were nervous. I just don’t want to upset you.”

“No no, we should have started with these. The metal ones just freaked me out.”

“Are you sure? Like are you surely sure?”

“I’m so sure, that I hid the key.” You laugh.

“YOU WHAT?!” Spencer yells.

“I didn’t want to chicken out again!” You shrug.

“Tell me where it is now.”

“Sorry you’re going to have to force it out of me mister agent.” You smirk.

“That’s Doctor agent to you missy.”

You turn around and shake your ass a little, “Come get me and force a confession out of me mister doctor sir.”

That’s just what he did.

Before he handcuffed your hands behind your back, he made sure you were alright. “Ready?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nod confidently.

He yet again put the cuffs on you. The click of the cuffs made a shiver run down your spine in anticipation.

He breaks character to ask, “Feel okay?”

“Yes. I’m alright.” You weren’t lying. It felt much better this time. You felt no anxiety. Just ecstasy. You practically moan at his hands roaming your body. Then his next move shocks you. Quickly getting back into character, he bends you over the table and spanks you.

“Wanna tell me where that key is young lady?” He threatens dominantly.

“Nope. My lips are sealed.”

“Hmm she’s stubborn.” He grabs your favorite vibrator and a paddle. “We’ll soon fix that.”

He presses the button on the vibrator. Nothing. “How the hell do you turn this on.” He asks.

You giggle. “Shut up.” He sneers. You stop laughing.

“Here let me.” You click and hold the button with your arms behind you. You hear the BZZZZZ immediately after.

“Thanks. Ok now, tell me where you hid it. Or I’ll be forced to use harsher methods.” He rubs the vibrator along your most sensitive spot. It feels amazing.

Moaning, you say, “Never.”

“Oh really?” He turns off the vibrator. You hear the buzzing stop and try to look behind you but you can’t see anything.

Spencer’s hands go up your waist and he starts tickling you. Your weakness. You scream-laugh.

“OH MY GOD AHAHAHAH!! SPENCER NO!”

“Tell me.” He says firmly.

“OK FINE ITS IN THE MEDICINE CABINET!!HAHAHAHAHA BEHIND YOUR EYE DROPS!!”

“Thank you.” He picks you up brings you to the bedroom. He lays you on the bed and leaves you there with the vibrator pressed against you.

He comes back holding the key. You think he’s going to uncuff you so you try to lift your hands.

He walks closer to you until his crotch is near your face. He runs his hand along your hair and says,“Oh I’m not done with you yet sweetheart. We’re just getting started!”

writing this had me 😫💗

this is probably the most sexy time i’ve ever written so hopefully it’s alright for like the first one

literally wrote this in like 20 minutes. how?!

hope anyone who reads this enjoys!! I love feedback!! 💗💗

tags/

@whoisspence

@lemonadeinfuser

@fictionalobssed

@exoticisles

@in-another-april

(if anyone else would like to be tagged in future works don’t hesitate to lmk!)

[bananami]

and just like that i’m back on my nanami bs. i hope this helps you all heal from the trauma that was season 2 of jjk <3 (cw: pure fluff, dad!nanami, wife!reader, sex is alluded to a number of times, nanami is just desperate for his wife ok)

“he just passed out, he usually naps for a good 30 minutes. i can do it in 20.”

you can’t help but laugh at your husband. ever since adopting yuuji the two of you have been adapting to your lives with a toddler. that included very limited one on one time, and it was taking a toll on nanami.

“i have to fold the laundry,” you’re tone is apologetic but your face tells him you find this amusing.

“you’re the greatest multitasker i know.”

you feel his arms wrap around you as you continue to fold yuuji’s t-shirts. the kid was so messy sometimes, it caused him to go through his entire closet in a weeks time. “we need to seriously go shopping and get him more things to wear.” you spun around to wrap your arms around his waist. “your child is a dirty little gremlin.”

“your husband is trying to be one too but you won’t let him act on it.”

“you are not gonna be 20 minutes, you say that but you’re not quick with it anymore old man.”

“who are you calling old man? i’m spry for my age.”

“see, you even sound like an old man.”

“an old man who just wants to show his wife how much he still loves her.” his hands slide up and down your back, holding you to him and bringing his lips to yours. “i love you. i miss you.”

“i miss you too kento,” you let him take his time kissing you. “ok, what if-“

“i love where this is going already.”

“i haven’t even told you.”

“the prospect of things makes me excited. really gets me going.”

you giggle, “so repressed.”

“you have no idea, it’s taking everything in me not to turn you around and accost you right here on the dining room table.” he leans his face down to nuzzle and kiss at your neck.

“accost?”

“accost. respectfully.”

you tighten your arms around his waist, satisfied with the heavy affection he’s showing you. “what if i call up gojo-“

“and just like that i’m soft.”

“kento!” you smack him in the back but can’t help the smile that sneaks onto your face. he’s so easy to rile up.

“you know the emotions his name invokes in me. i can’t stand him.”

“i was going to say, what if i called him up to see if yuuji can spend the weekend at his and geto’s place with megumi, and then you and i can have the entire weekend together. just the two of us.”

“i love him.”

“wow, wait until i tell him you said that.”

“i’ll never admit to it.” nanami takes your face into his hands, kissing at your lips over and over until a giggling voice breaks the moment.

“eeeeew!!” yuuji runs forward from the other side of the hallway, jumping up and down at nanami’s feet. “up, up, up!!” and when he does the pink haired little boy leans over to give you a kiss on the nose.

“thank you, yuuji,” you give his nose a kiss in return.

“thank you, mama!!”

nanami narrows his eyes and scratches at the boy’s belly, sending yuuji into another round of giggles at being tickled. “guess who’s house your gonna sleepover at this weekend.”

you send a look toward your husband. “he hasn’t agreed yet, i still have to call him.”

“he’ll agree. because if he doesn’t,” he presses a million little kisses all over yuuji’s face, “i might actually die. and then who will he have to annoy at work?”

“he does like to annoy you.”

“i’m well aware.”

“i’ll call him now.”

nanami sets yuuji down, sending him into the kitchen. before following him, he leans over to give you one last lingering kiss on the lips. “i love you,” his smile lifts into a tiny smirk, “and it is for that reason exactly that i say, with all of the love i can muster, i am going to ruin you this weekend.”

“ruin me?”

“ruin you. respectfully.”

[secretsofafangirll]

you're still my favorite girl

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!oc

summary: in which chris and isabelle are childhood best friends, who have always had underlying romantic feelings for one another. when chris starts hanging around other girls, isabelle can't help but question their relationship.

tw: talk of insecurity, kind of soft!dom chris, sexual situations but no real smut. mention of fem!oc being "tiny". use of "ma'".

"Come on, Belle," Chris shoots his hand out for her wrist and pulls himself from the couch as she walks away, "You'll have fun, I promise. Madi's gonna be there, Matt and Nick are going. If you're not gonna go for yourself, at least go for them." He pleads staring down at her, fiddling with her fingers.

"No, Chris. I'm sorry, but I'm not going. The last time I went to a party, someone threw up on me and one of Madi's old friends called me ugly, so," She raises her brows at the boy, "I will be staying in the comfort of my bed for the night with Sam and Colby on my screen."

She starts to walk away but Chris reaches out for her again, this time wrapping an arm around her waist hand colliding with her stomach and pulling her back, "Chris!" She giggles as she stumbles, her back coming in contact with his chest.

"Just stay here, B. I'll want to be with you when I get home. Just curl up in my bed and steal my clothes like you always do, hm?" He tickles her ribs and flexes his bicep around her frame.

"Fine," She huffs, throwing her head back against his chest, "but I'm wearing that unicorn, rainbow bullshit hoodie." Putting a finger in the air, she pulls away from his body, and heads for his bedroom.

"Okay, then I'm gonna head over. Be safe. I'll lock the door behind me and don't answer unless it's me, Nick or Matt. Behave." He points and narrows his eyes at me.

"Yes, sir." She jokes, putting her hands behind her back and bowing at the man. His eyes glaze over momentarily and his cool guy act falters for a moment.

"Love you, Belle."

"I love you, Chris." She calls and makes way to his bedroom.

༺♰༻

It's been three and a half hours since Chris left and Isabelle has heard nothing but silence. Not one text or call. She called and texted him several times to ask when he's planning on getting home, as she's getting tired, but he hasn't responded to a single one.

She worries that something bad has happened to him but she knows that Nick and Matt would've called if anything went wrong. While Sam and Colby play quietly in the background of her thoughts, she chomps on her acrylic nails and stares off into space.

Anxious thoughts fill her mind and tiredness threatens to take over. What if he's hurt? What if something happened to Nick and Matt and Chris doesn't have time to tell me? What if Nick and Matt have no idea something is wrong with Chris and he's just suffering all alone with no one aware?

She knows this is the worst thing for her to be doing right now, so to distract herself, she hops out of his bed and saunters into the kitchen to get a glass of water. As she softly pads toward his bedroom door, she hears her phone vibrate against his nightstand. Immediately relief floods her chest and she turns on her heels to run back. She lunges for her phone and is only met with disappointment when she sees that it was just a stupid Instagram notification. But her heart drops when she sees it was Chris who caused the notification in the first place. So he has time to post on Instagram, but not to text his best friend back? Makes total sense!

She reluctantly clicks on the notification to open a story he posted. It's him with one of his other good friends in the influencer space, Paige. He has an arm draped over her shoulders while she curls into his side and blows a fake kiss at his smirking, smug face. The text on the photo reading, My day 1 #1 @paige.

An unfamiliar feeling washes over her. His day one number one? She thinks. What about me? I've known you since kindergarten.

She doesn't know how to describe this feeling. It was like her favorite toy being pried from her hands as a child. Or the spot on the best team in the world being given to someone else. Being given to someone better. Was it jealousy?

No way. She thinks. He's my best friend, I'm not jealous of someone who he's possibly romantically interested in. But when she taps on her profile and sees she also posted a story, she knows exactly what to expect. And boy is she jealous when she sees it.

Paige's post is a different picture. It's a picture of them, back to back. both with sunglasses pointing finger guns at the camera. Nothing's funny about the picture, but Isabelle can't help but laugh. Not at the way they look or the stupid sunglasses, but because Isabelle posted that exact picture of her and Chris not that long ago. She taps through a highlight dedicated to her best friends and two months ago, that exact pose pops up.

Rage courses through her veins. Jealousy and rage flow all throughout her body. You wanna steal my man and my posts? She thinks. And Chris wants to blatantly ignore my attempts to contact him but then be active on social media anyway? Go right ahead.

At this point, she doesn't want to call him or text him. She doesn't even really want to see him at all. Hell, she has half the mind to drive back to her own house and let him find his house empty. But she knows that isn't the right thing to do. So she stays put and tries her best to fall asleep in her best friend's bed.

༺♰༻

Isabella had fallen asleep. Comfortable and warm in Chris hoodie and in his bed. He slowly crept in the front door with Matt and Nick two hours later, careful not to wake the sleeping girl. He signaled with his hand for the two to keep it down as he walked in. Though suddenly, Nick dropped his phone and the smack echoed through the entire house.

Chris' head whips around to Nick with wide eyes "Dude," he whisper shouts, "Shut the fuck up."

Matt and Nick make it to their respective bedroom quickly and quietly, eager to go to sleep after such a long night. Chris, on the other hand, is eager to see his sweet best friend. He ever so carefully pushes down the door handle and cracks the door to see Isabelle sleeping so peacefully on his bed, drowning in his large hoodie she swore she would wear. Her soft breaths making her hair move with every exhale, her small hand resting on the pillow beside her head. He takes a moment to take in her beauty. He can't help it. Chris has always thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. With her long dark hair and piercing green eyes, he could never deny beauty like that, even if she's his best friend.

He tips toes to his closet and closes the door behind him to change. He peels off his shoes pants and shirts, stripping to his boxers. He doesn't have it in him to shower tonight. After forcing himself to socialize with people he didn't even really like that much, all he wants to do is cuddle with the one person he can never get tired of being around. He quietly exits his closet, grateful that his girl is still asleep. He creeps over to his side of the bed and slides in carefully next to her.

He scoots in closer to her and wraps an arm around her waist pulling her closer to him. He peels the hood from her head and places a loving kiss on the top of it. However, he feels her shift beside him and she pulls her body away from his altogether, leaving no part of her touching him at all, save for his hand which is still tacked on to her waist. When he doesn't take the hint, she reaches behind herself, grabs his hands, and roughly tosses it off of her body.

Chris' brows raise in shock at her rejection and when he reaches out for her again, she scoots even further away, almost falling off the bed.

"Belle," He whispers. No answer. "Belly," He tries again a little louder. Still nothing. "Isabelle," He speaks in a normal speaking voice and places a hand on her hip but she only shrugs him off again and doesn't answer. He props himself up on his elbow stretches his body over hers and turns on the light, "Isabelle Bianca Lavigne, if you don't tell me why you won't let me touch you right now, I swear to god B," He trails off, his voice stern and assertive.

Isabelle finally answers at this, her face bare of any makeup, only covered in sadness and mild insecurity and she turns to face him. His eyes soften slightly at her expression but he maintains composure and control of the situation. He's always had that power over her. And in a strange way, both of them like it more than they should.

"There's nothing to say, I'm just hot." She lies through her teeth, and turns back over.

"Bullshit," He scoffs, "You're in a thick ass sweatshirt, under my heavy ass comforter and turned my fan off. Plus, you're always freezing cold. So try again, Isabelle, and this time, don't lie to me."

"Okay, Chris, if you don't want me to lie," She spits and turns to face him, "I text you five times and I call you six. I leave four voicemails and I even call Matt and yet, I get nothing but radio fucking silence from everyone. Then, my phone buzzes and when I think it's my best friend finally texting me back, I see he's posting on Instagram instead. And not only that," She continues, looking around the room as if there are imaginary cameras around, "He's posting other girls, calling them his number ones, as if his, correct me if I'm wrong, best friend isn't worried sick in his bed, because he won't text her back. So, sue me, if I don't want you to touch me right now, as I'm not feeling very loved." She huffs, rolls back over and turns the light back off.

Chris sits, his mouth agape in silence. She can shut him up real damn fast, it seems. She's never said anything like that to him. He's around other girls all the time and she's never reacted like that before. He blows out a long breath before reaching for her body again. He drapes an arm over her waist and starts to pull her against him again.

She struggles against his strength again but he whispers her name over and over in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She gives in and relaxes in his grip, "There we go. Relax and let me talk to you, okay? And let me see that face, hm?" He pulls the hood from her head and turns the lamp on once again. There she is. He whispers to himself.

"Is this about Paige?" He questions, turning her onto her back and pulling her impossibly closer to his chest. He brushes her hair out of her face and behind her ear, his hand slipping under the hoodie and onto her bare stomach, his pinky slipping under the waistband of her panties; a habit he had made when she got comfortable enough to sleep without any pants on.

"Christopher," She groans slapping her hands over her face, "It's embarrassing."

"No," He grabs her wrists and pulls her hands from he face, "it's not. She's just a friend, I promise. She wanted to post those for some P.R. bullshit. I barely know her." He swears, looking into her innocent green eyes. His left hand plays with the hair on her forehead and his right hands still lies on her stomach and halfway in her underwear.

"You don't understand, Chris. I already have a hard time being your friend because of your fans. Sometimes I question if any of this is even worth it and then when I see shit like this, other women who just think you're young and sexy, claiming you and shit, it just makes me wonder if I'm really your best friend or if you just keep me around because you feel like you have to. There are so many women who could have, who should have you, but I feel like I'm just keeping you from being happy. Fuck, I mean, I react like this when someone just posts some bullshit about you. It's actually pathetic Chris. And not to mention, Paige is gorgeous. Like, the kind of beautiful you think is made up. Shes blonde and skinny and kind and social and successful, and everything I'm not. Just seeing you with her, looking so happy and so friendly and close. It made me want to tear my skin off, Chris. I've never felt like that before, and it's really scaring me."

Chris looks stunned next to her, his hand frozen on her head and on her waist. He closes his eyes and shakes is head, "Wait back up. One, fuck my fans and what they have to say about you. I love you more than I love any single one of them. Two, you are my best friends. Always have been. No other woman is ever gonna come between that. Third, sure Paige is pretty, but you. Oh, Belle, I call you princess for a reason. You are the most beautiful woman I have seen and I never want to hear you say you aren't, what was it, skinny, kind, social and successful ever again, do you understand?" He grabs her jaw and forces her face on his. She just stares into his eyes and nods like she's under a spell. "You are a goddess to me, Isabelle. If I have to get your name tattooed on my forehead and that promise burned into my skin for you to believe me, I will." He looks down into her eyes once more, his grip still strong on her chiseled jaw.

She leans into his warm body, his bare chest on display for her to touch. She flattens her hand against his left peck and stares into his blue eyes. His right hand moves to the small of her back, his pinky still in her panties. He presses her body into his, pushing her stomach into his groin. The two of them suddenly become very aware of two things: (1) The meaning of the conversation they just had. (2) The lack of clothing both of them have on. Chris clad only in his boxers and her in his sweatshirt with no shirt or bra and a pair of tiny lace panties.

"I don't just love you, Isabelle," He whispers, "I'm in love with you. You're my best girl, always have been. I can meet a thousand girls like Paige and you'll always be my favorite girl."

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that," She sighs, before stretching her neck to meet his, her nose brushing against his.

"God, Isabelle, you're gonna be the death of me", Chris breathes, before roughly pressing his lips against hers. He rolls himself onto his back, with his back pressed against the headboard. He grabs her hips and hoists her over his lap, allowing her to straddle his thighs. She places her hands on his shoulders as his hands roam her tiny body. The kiss is wild and wet as their tongues exchange saliva between them. Isabella involuntarily grinds her hips down into his, but Chris is too caught up in the kiss to notice.

"Tell me, ma', " He breaks the kiss and catches his breath, "Say it. Tell me you love me. I can't keep kissing you if I don't hear you say it."

She leans into his ear and blows a soft breath, causing his body to shudder, "I'm in love with you, Chris. I always have been."

With that, his hands squeeze her waist and his lips are back on hers. The kiss is rough and passionate and insanely sloppy. This time, when Isabelle swivels her hips on his, his breathe hitches and his hands shoot out to stop her, "Baby, baby." He pulls away form the kiss and the loss of suction sounds around the room, "You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you right now, but I'm too tired to fuck you how you deserve. I need you to answer me honestly Princess, will you be able to control yourself if I don't stop now?" He tilts his head. She bites her bottom lip and gives him guilty fuck me eyes, shaking her head. "So do I have to stop?" He questions one more time to be sure.

"I think so," She drops her hands from his shoulders and places them on his thighs behind her, her hips still moving slightly against his grip.

"That's okay. We can go to bed, I can hold you as much as I want. and in the morning, we can figure all of this out and if you're good, I'll fuck as hard and as good as my best girl deserves, how's that sound? Hm?" He questions, running his hands up her waist, teasingly tugging on her panties and letting them snap back every here and there.

"Fine, I guess." She gives in and flops over to her side, off of his lap, turning away from him.

"Ma' ," He chuckles softly, "I'm doing this for you, ya' know kid? I could fuck you right now, but it wouldn't be that good and you know that." He pulls her back over to face him and hikes her thigh over his lap and stomach as he lays down beside her, he head resting on his chest.

"Mhmmm" She hums annoyed and tired, lazily bucking her hips against his literal hip bone and groin.

"Settle, ma', " He whispers gripping her hip tightly and turning off the lamp. The two fall asleep, her hands curled up under her jaw and his hands roaming every inch of the body that will soon belong to him.

///

a/n: alright! how do we feel? i definitely got a little carried away and i'm not sure how i feel. let me know please! also, let me know if ya'll want a part 2.

like and reblog pls!!! i need my blog to grow....

all the love, she ☆

part 2 here!!!

[val-cansalute]

Can u do a drabble or hcs on cuddling Ellie?

Ur writing is so good I love everything U write :>

WREATHE

warnings: not much, mostly fluff, basically the rq, mdni with my account tho😏

a/n: IM SO SORRY THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR I KID YOU NOT LIKE HALF A YEAR IM GENUINELY SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME 😰 thank you so much for sending the rq even though i took the piss responding, also this is a drabble bc i don’t think i’d be good at doing hcs 😭 i have some shit coming up at uni so i prolly won’t put anything out for a while but i have an idea for a new fic in the drafts !!! very excited…

ramadan has started which means israel’s violence against the Palestinian people will worsen as it does every year, purely for the sake of inflicting even more psychological torture on them. please, now more than ever, pray for them if you’re religious, talk about palestine, boycott, protest, strike, donate if you can, contact the people in charge. don’t let people forget. here’s a link to some details on the situation. everybody stay safe 💗.

10:47 - you return from a strenuous day of patrol and odd jobs around Jackson. You’re slightly tipsy, a drink or two from the Tipsy Bison churning a pool of warmth within your stomach.

The place is stagnant when you push the door open, as if coming home to nobody.

Ellie must’ve gone to bed early today.

You drift to the bathroom despite the fact that the house feels apocalyptic, and sit in the gentle rush of water, scrubbing your skin weakly with aching arms.

When you enter your room, everything is still, except for the rhythmic rise and fall of Ellie’s figure beneath the covers on the bed backed against the wall.

You throw the dampened towel that is slung over your shoulder carelessly and walk over to the bed, gently settling beside her.

For a while, you feel content. Sleep is lulling you in, the room is shadowy, the bed is warm, and the sound of Ellie’s deep-sleep-breaths (totally not snores at all, she swears) are soft like TV static in the back of your mind.

Your eyes are on the verge of fluttering close for the last time tonight so you turn onto your side and nestle into the crook of your shoulder.

Then, there’s a harsh jolt and the bed shifts. You can feel Ellie’s puzzled gaze raking over you, the realisation that you’re home setting, and your lips twist into a smile subconsciously. The night rarely ends without the inebriating buzz of affection.

A quiet sigh escapes the enclosure of her blush-pink lips before she reclines into the pillows once more, eyes never leaving the still curvature of your figure. Not a moment passes and her arms encircle your waist, warmth embracing your torso and pressing against your hair like a wreathe of absolute comfort.

A barely audible mumble tickles the helix of your ear,

“Hey, babe,” accompanied by the phantom touch of her lips against your cheeks in her half-asleep state. You scrunch your nose before turning into the love she offers you.

“Hey, Els.”

You begin to mumble butterfly details about the happenings of the day as you feel the surface of her skin raise with goosebumps under the delicate tracing of your fingertips - down her bare thighs, along the round of her hip, along her stomach and under her boobs - easing airy chuckles out of her.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Hm? Nothin’…”

You can already picture the smirk on her dazed face,

“Ya sure there? You want somethin’, babe?”

A playful scoff and she’s looking at you with feigned shock against the weight of tired eyelids,

“Can’t I feel you? I just wanna be close to you,”

“I’d say we’re pretty close, ya know?”

“Never close enough,” you clarify and the rasp of her laugh fades into silence and she presses a kiss onto your head, and then another, straining her neck till she’s face to flushed and grinning face, stringing a blizzard of soft, dewy kisses across it.

“Alright, alright!”

“One more- mwah,” she smacks her lips against your scrunched up mouth aggressively, leaving a gross patch of saliva, and smiles dumbly to herself, tightening the hold of her arms around you to which you groan.

Tight against her gentle sway, she mutters a quiet confirmation,

“Never close enough,” and then runs the rough pads of her fingertips along the expanse of your skin, lingering a moment on your thighs.

It’s like the rustle of a spring breeze and it draws your eyes to a close.

As you drift further from the surface, you feel the soft tingle of Ellie’s foot nudging your ankle and the distant haze of her voice whispering,

“You sure you don’t want anything, baby?” and you’re asleep.

also, absolutely no one asked for this but here are some pictures of my fat ass cat (cutest patootie evah 😆😆):

[lovebugism]

steve + reader who’s insecure about her large thighs

TW for smut and body insecurities and a very self-indulgent fic (4.5k)

Ironically, Steve’s favorite part of you was the one you kept most hidden.

He hates when you wear sweatpants to bed. You always tell him you’re cold, even though you’re not really cold — you just don’t know how to tell him the sight of your thighs makes you feel icky sometimes. 

He always tells you that you don’t need them. He’ll always joke that he can warm you up the ‘old-fashioned way’ if you get cold during that night, that it’s ‘his speciality.’ 

You’re never swayed.

He hates it the most when you won’t let him touch you.

On the rare occasion you wear lounge shorts to, well, lounge in, Steve turns ravenous. He all but gravitates towards you, like he might die if he’s more than a couple feet away from you. 

And you — you’ve got no earthly idea what you do to him. You’re curled up on the couch, reading some too big novel, and so effortlessly perfect in your way. Steve can’t help but slink in behind you, press wet kisses to your neck and shoulder, and melt wholeheartedly into you with two wide hands on your warm skin. 

His palms inevitably find purchase on your exposed thighs. It’s like magnets, almost. He can’t help but touch you there, like he was made to do it.

You like when he gets like that most of the time. You giggle, all innocent, and complain like you hate it. “I’m trying to read, Stevie. Stop tickling me,” you gripe through a lighthearted laugh as his scruff brushes the base of your neck. 

You don’t try to stop him, though. Both of you know you secretly like how badly he seems to need you.

His smile curls against your shoulder. 

“I’m not tickling you,” he teases, knowingly. “I’m loving on you.”

You roll your eyes and try to concentrate on your book again. It’s harder than it was before, you find, with Steve’s all-consuming touch making you buzz in his hold. The book was just starting to get good before he interrupted you. Now you can barely remember the title of the damn thing.

“Well, you should try and find better opportunities for these situations, Stevie,” you quip.

He smacks a final, wetter kiss to the junction of your neck. Then he nods, mostly to himself since you’re not looking at him to see it — too busy pretending to read your book. His fingers twitch on your thigh before rising to toy with the hems of your bottoms.

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right,” he hums and drags his fingers to the waistline of your shorts. He dips his fingers just below them. From where he’s tucked along your back, he can feel your breath hitch. You tense and deflate, forcing yourself to relax before he can notice how rigid you’ve gone.

But Steve notices.

He always notices.

There’s nothing about you that Steve isn’t already acutely aware of.

With his free hand — the one not settled just below your stomach under your shorts, but the one still rubbing along your arm — he feels goosebumps erupt on your skin as you bite back a shiver.

His fingers dip lower, lower, lower. They graze the manicured hair of your pubic bone — the coarse hair there contrasts sharply against the softness of your slick lips. And Steve just holds you there, cups your pussy with a touch so full of filth and adoration. A nearly lethal concoction only he can muster.

You’ve long abandoned your book. The thing is close to falling out of your hands now. The paperback slips further and further from your fingertips the more lax you get. Steve can feel you getting heavier as you relax against him. You’ve borderline stopped breathing, awaiting the cruel anticipation of his touch. 

It makes the boy laugh. The heavy exhale fans against your jaw.

“So, you’re saying now’s a bad time, then?” he taunts, nose nudging the shell of your ear.

“Yeah…” you sigh. “I wanna… wanna finish my book… You’re bothering me.”

“Oh, I’m bothering you?” he smiles, knowing.

You nod, but it’s a tad bit sloppy with how drunk you’ve gone.

Steve slots a finger between your lips and hums to himself at how wet you are. He’s always amazed by how soft your pussy is, made exactly of silk and velvet.

“Then why are you so wet for me?”

You don’t answer, just whine and melt further into him. 

Steve is all too happy to let you, even though the position is a tad bit awkward. He’s got one foot planted on the floor while the other steadily falls numb from where it’s curled underneath him. He’s not moving until you come, though.

With you still slouched in his lap, he slithers his free hand beneath your thigh to open you wider for him. And you — sweet and pliable you — let him do it all without protest. You’ve got one foot beside his on the carpet and the other bent up towards the back of the couch. Perfectly spread open.

It’s not like you need the assistance or anything, though. With how wet you are just now, he’s bound to slide in without trouble.

“There you go,” Steve murmurs in your ear when you laze wholly against him. “Always so good for me. Even when you don’t wanna be, right?”

He makes you come like that once, with his fingers that you gush all over. That orgasm doesn’t have shit on the one he gives you right after. You’re always a sucker for a man on his knees for you, but Steve’s quite literally the master of eating pussy. So when his mouth locks on your clit and his hands grip your thighs to keep you pressed against him, you’re coming in record time.

It’s more than the experience, though, and Steve knows it. 

Sure, he’s been with enough girls to know what parts of them are the most sensitive, but it’s because he knows you so damn well that he can get you to explode the way you do. He knows everything you like, everything you don’t like — what you always want more of before you can beg for it and what you hate before you can tell him you hate it.

Steve Harrington can read you like a fucking book. He swears no one has ever understood a person the way he understands you.

So he knows exactly when you get in these moods, all reserved and a little upset for no tangible reason, where you absolutely refuse to let him touch you. 

Steve might be able to understand it better if you just didn’t want to have sex, but most of the time all he wants to do is love on you and you act like it’s some abominable crime. He’ll keep his hands to himself because he’ll never do anything you don’t want, but his heart breaks every damn time he can’t hold you.

He knows it’s coming when Eddie invites you out for drinks.

You’re in a great mood at the start of the day. You spend all afternoon giddy at the chance to see Eddie for the first time in ages — getting drunk with him, more than anything. But getting ready to leave is objectively less fun, and you always forget about that until your hair won’t cooperate and your makeup doesn’t look how you want it to.

Steve hears you grumble at yourself in the mirror. The disgruntled sound is muffled through the shut bathroom door. He aches to make you feel better, but he learned a long time ago to leave you alone.

You come out sometime later, dolled up and beautiful and slightly annoyed.

The boy whistles lowly at your appearance, then says, “You look hot, babe. Seriously. You could be a pornstar — easy.”

He says it to make you laugh. His chest burns when you don’t. 

You lock yourself in the bathroom with different outfits stacked in your arms. Steve tries to count how many, but you slam the door shut before he can get past three.

Hidden away in the washroom, the small space simmering with the heavy humidity of anxiety and irritation, you try on five — five — different outfits. A sexy red dress first and then an even sexier, tighter black one. You almost chose the latter until you stared too long in the mirror and hated how it looked on you.

You try on a pair of leather shorts and two more skirts after. One’s an alluring sparkly mesh number, the other a too expensive frilly thing with a slit up to your hip that Steve had gotten you a couple of anniversaries ago.

You curse yourself for even trying to look nice. It’s the same gut-wrenching cycle every time — liking the outfit you’ve put together, then hating the body inside of it. It’s your thighs that nag you most of the time. You think they’re too big, too round. They don’t look good in anything other than baggy sweatpants.

You try to look pretty and just end up hurting your own feelings.

When you storm out of the bathroom again, you do it blinking back burning tears full of anger.

“Are you ready?” Steve wonders absentmindedly before he’s even looked at the steaming ball of rage you are. He tears his gaze from the television and finds you half-naked, clad in nothing but a pretty lace bra and matching underwear — lingerie that you’d chosen for him. 

You were going to surprise him with it when you got back from the bar, buzzed and giddy with it. You would’ve played coy, and he would’ve gone absolutely wild for you… You don’t feel very much like something to go wild for now.

“Does it look like I’m ready?” you grumble in response before you realize how bitter it sounds.

Steve isn’t deterred by your annoyance. He knows it’s not at him. 

“For the Hideout?” he quips. “Totally. In fact, I’d say you’re a little overdressed.”

You toss the wad of clothes in your arms into your shared closet. You don’t seem to mind the heaping pile it leaves on the floor, even though you usually hate when it gets messy. “I don’t think I wanna go anymore.”

Steve nearly deflates. He was looking forward to going out. Going out, with you.

His legs swing over the edge of the mattress as he looks over at you with a puppy-like pout. “Why? You were so excited to go earlier, remember? You were talking about finally getting to see Eddie again—”

“We can go another time,” you interject before he can remind you of how happy you were. You start rifling through your drawers for pajamas because you’ve already given up on having a good time.

Steve doesn’t miss how your voice cracks halfway through. Or the way you go for an oversized t-shirt and those goddamn pair of gray sweatpants you use like a shield. A weapon. 

His chest aches with all the love he holds for you there. It tightens with anguish at how dejected you’ve gotten — mourning a night out before it could happen because you hate the way you look. 

He’s at a loss at how to prove how beautiful you are. He can only tell you that you’re perfect so many times before it loses meaning.

“C’mere, babe,” he commands in a soft coo.

Still not looking at him, you start to ramble: “You can go if you want, okay? I just really don’t feel like it anymore, and I know I won’t have a good time, and I don’t want to weigh you down, so… You can just— You can go without me—” 

Your voice is fragile, like cracking glass. You’re obviously overwhelmed.

“I’m not going without you,” Steve dismisses the thought almost immediately. “I won’t have a good time if you’re not there. I’d rather be with you here than without you somewhere else.”

You turn to him, pajamas balled up at your stomach. “You don’t have to say that, okay? You don’t have to pretend so you won’t hurt my feelings.”

“Can you just— Can you come here?” he bites, less than patiently. He follows that up with a kinder, “Please?”

You huff about it but oblige him anyway. You walk to his side of the bed, practically stomping like an angry child, until you’re in front of him. Steve reaches for your hands to pull you closer when you stop short. He entwines his larger fingers with your own. He raises his chin to meet your frown with a soft grin. 

“You know you look pretty in everything, right?” 

You groan and try to yank out of his grip. He only holds you tighter. 

“You do. I swear. I have to try not to pop a boner every time I see you.”

“Shut up…” you grumble.

“I’m serious!” he chuckles. His laughter feels like sunshine to your storm cloud. “I’m literally doing it right now!”

Steve smirks when your eyes flit down to his lap. His slacks conceal too much for you to call his bluff, but there wouldn’t be a point in it, anyway. He’s been half-hard since he saw you in your underwear. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done, trying not to act like a totally ravenous teenage boy whenever you’re around. 

He sees a look of disbelief flash across your face. You squint at him, then scrunch your nose. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs with a nod. “I literally have to talk myself down, or else I’ll jump all over you.”

“You do that anyway,” you argue.

“Then imagine that times a hundred. That’s what I wanna do to you all the time,” he confesses with a twinkle in his honey eyes and a smile on his pink lips. “I just need you, you know? Like, all the fucking time. I feel a little empty when I’m not holding you. It kinda hurts now…”

You purse your lips to the side. It’s obvious you want to say something.

His gaze goes wide and hopeful. “Can I touch you more?”

You nod wordlessly.

Steve doesn’t waste a second. His hands ease their grip and dart to your thighs. They settle along the backs of them to urge you closer. Now, eye-level with your waist, he realizes that your under is see-through. The sight of your pussy makes him gulp — like, audibly gulp. The cartoonish sound makes you laugh.

Even though he’s a little embarrassed at himself, he’s glad you take amusement in it. He decides then that he’d probably lie in a busy street if he thought it might make you happy.

“See? I’m so far gone for you, it’s not even funny.”

You feel a bit like glass as you stand in front of him, fragile and completely see-through.

Steve always knows exactly what you’re feeling, what you’re thinking. The thought is as comforting as it is overwhelming — to know that you’ll never have to go through the bad shit alone because he can hear all of your icky thoughts before you say them out loud.

Your eyes go heavy under the weight of your unshed tears. A delicate sigh rattles your chest.

“I just… I don’t really… like the way I look sometimes… you know?” you admit for the first time out loud. The words come out slow and a little bit choppy, like they’re hard for you to say.

“I know,” Steve coos with an understanding nod. “I know…”

His hands squeeze the skin of your thighs in reassurance because he isn’t totally sure of what to say. He doesn’t want to denounce all the big feelings you’re feeling, but it’s pretty damn hard to nurture them when he’s looking at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

“But that’s… that’s all in your head. Your brain is just being a little mean to you, you know? ‘Cause you’re… I mean, you’re— you—” he stammers when he realizes that there isn’t a word in the dictionary that could encapsulate all the beauty you are. “I mean, you’re perfect. And that— that doesn’t even start to describe it. Maybe if I was a little smarter, I could, but… I guess that’s what I get for not going to college. Can’t tell my girlfriend how pretty she is…”

Steve musters a lopsided grin. You try to smile back at him.

“I know it’s not… That it’s not real, but… It feels real, you know? Like, I look in the mirror, and I… I just— I hate it, sometimes. I hate it…”

Steve swallows through a tightening throat. He feels like you’re talking about him. In some ways, you are. That’s his body you’re talking about — his thighs, his tummy, his everything about you that he loves so damn much.

“Well, you know what?” the boy wonders with a smile because both of you can’t be sad right now. “I’m gonna love so damn much, you’re gonna be overflowin’ with it, alright? And you’re gonna be so full of it, you’re not gonna have a choice be to love yourself. Then you’ll see everything I’m seeing ‘cause… damn…”

You’re warmed by his words — by the sheer weight of them. They feel like honey or a warm blanket, sticky and heavy and all consuming. Despite your swelling heart, you roll your eyes at the boy in front of you who’s looking at you like he’s never seen a naked woman before — like he hasn’t seen you naked a million times.

Steve always looks at you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you — like he has to memorize all of your features just in case he never gets to see you again.

“You don’t have to,” you remind him, hopeful and a little forlorn. To love me, you almost say. You don’t because you don’t have to. “But you do, so… Thank you.”

“Oh, trust me, baby, the pleasure is all mine,” he scoffs, a tad bit overwhelmed with all the love he’s got for you. He ushers you closer, closer, closer until you’re forced to settle in his lap. 

You do so without protest. 

His touches feel less painful now — less like knives, and more like ice cream and summer rain and old love songs. Love personified.

His smile is crooked, his eyes are wide, and his brows are raised to his hairline. He looks boyish, full of lust and tenderness and hope. And looks at you with all of it. You’re still not sure how deserving you are of it. 

“‘Cause… look at you. You’re a fucking— you’re a smoke show, honey.”

“You really have a way with words, don’t ya, Stevie?” you laugh. You try to trap your smile between your teeth, but it does little to conceal your beaming. 

Now, higher of spirits, you settle further into Steve’s touch. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck while you make yourself comfortable in his lap.  It’s all perfectly pleasant and familiar, but you can’t miss the boner in his slacks. The raging hard-on is tucked into his right pant leg and brushing along your inner thigh.

“Huh… You weren’t kidding about that boner, were you?”

“No, I was not.”

Your eyes go from taunting to mischievous in a flash, no longer the melancholy girl you had been just minutes before. How can you be, when you’ve got this beautiful boy below you? When this beautiful boy thinks you’re so damn pretty that the sight of you’s got him hard?

“Want me to take care of it for you?”

Steve wants so badly to say yes. He stopped being so selfish somewhere between getting called bullshit at a Halloween party and finding a girl dressed as an angel puking in the bushes some twenty minutes later. He offered to give this angel — you — a ride home and hasn’t stopped thinking about her since.

“No. You don’t have to, babe,” he declines softly with warm, wide hands rubbing up and down the expanse of your outer thighs. “Not if you don’t feel up to it.”

“Well, what if I do feel up to it?” you argue and weave your hand in his hair. Your fingers dance through the chestnut locks as you slowly bring his face closer to yours. “What if I want you to fuck me stupid and make me forget why I was upset in the first place?”

His brain stopped functioning at “fuck me stupid.” His honey eyes glaze over and his pink mouth falls softly agape. He’s nodding at you before he realizes he’s doing it. “Then... I think… Yeah, we could… We could arrange that.”

You grin at him, playful like you’ve got some sort of trick up your sleeve. You slip off his lap and flop onto the mattress on your stomach. With your arms folded under your cheeks, you turn to look at the boy from over your shoulder. “How do you want me, Stevie?”

He rises slowly, unable to take his eyes off of you — or the gleam in your eye that you look at him with, or the sheer pair of underwear that practically shouts his name. 

Rather brazenly, he begins to palm himself through his slacks, working himself even harder for you.

“Like that,” he murmurs. You wiggle your ass for him and laugh when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I want you… just like that.”

He wrenches his hands underneath your thighs to tug you to the edge of the bed. Your giggle is entwined with a giddy squeal — the heavenly sound fills the quiet of the bedroom and bleeds into a soft moan when he drops to his knees and licks a fat stripe over your clothed pussy.

Steve eats you out from behind like a professional. Maybe because he is one, in some ways. He’s an expert in your body. He knows exactly what makes you tick like a time bomb until you ultimately explode.

He starts by teasing you. He mouths at your folds through underwear and doesn’t stop until your panties are sopping and you’re begging him to fuck you. He doesn’t oblige you, not yet anyway — “let me taste you first, baby,” he murmurs as he slides the sheer fabric to the side. He works you open with his tongue next. You’re so wound up, you come all over his mouth without warning.

You’re a writhing mess upon an unmade bed, forced to suffer through every wave of your overwhelming orgasm. Steve tries to aid you through the comedown. He presses soft kisses to your trembling thighs, leaving the occasional love bite on your warm skin and licking over the soft indents of his teeth on the plushest part of your ass.

The high barely has time to pass before he slips his cock into you. 

He likes you most that way — when you’re fatigued but still buzzing. It makes you more pliant that way, needier and louder for him. You don’t say anything coherent, though, just babbles of pleas entwined with his name.

Steve nearly squishes you under his weight as he fucks you into the mattress. With his back pressed over your back, the proximity of your bodies forces his cock to hit the deepest part of you, over and over and over again. The smack of your thighs and his heavy balls against your pussy and his wet kisses on your neck is a lewd sort of heavenly — a beautiful kind of sinful.

His touches are fleeting. His hands can’t seem to stay in one place for very long because he wants to touch you everywhere. He grips your hips with enough force to leave bruises there, swats your ass to hear you whine, and lets you suck on his fingers when you beg for them.

He settles, finally, on your swollen clit. He rubs you there until he feels your pulsating pussy clench around him and doesn’t stop until you’re gushing and pushing his hand away.

You’re fucked successfully stupid and totally lax beneath him when Steve’s hips stutter against your ass. He mumbles high-pitched and mindless praises in your ear as his orgasm creeps up his spine.

“So pretty for me, baby. Fuck— you’re so damn pretty like this. Pussy’s so good, too…” he murmurs just before a whine crawls up and out of his throat. He tucks his head between your neck and shoulder and whispers his sinful babbles there. “It’s so good, baby. You feel so fucking good— god, I can’t fucking… Holy shit, I love you, baby. Love you so goddamn much. Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

He fills you up barely a moment later. 

Steve stuffs you full of his come, kisses you until your senses return to you, then rushes to the bathroom for a washcloth to clean the both of you up with. He parts from you after, still naked, to chuck the dirty rag into the hamper.

“Do you want me to call Eddie and tell him we can’t make it? I can ask if he’s gonna be in town tomorrow or something so we can…” the boy trails off when he rounds his side of the bed and finds you sleeping. 

Steve phones Eddie and tells him that you aren’t feeling well, that you’re sleeping now, and that you’ll call him in the morning when you’re feeling better. Eddie’s a total grouch about it because he thinks it’s Steve’s fault you’re not coming to his show.

He’ll gladly take the blame. He’s all too happy to crawl into bed beside you and clutch you like a teddy bear as he drifts off to sleep with you.

You wake the next morning, a little sore, a little embarrassed, and so so full of love. 

You peck a sleeping Steve on his slack mouth before shuffling off to the bathroom. It’s hard to miss your blowsy appearance in the mirror. Your makeup is smeared, your hair tousled, and lacy underwear still on. Your skin is in worse shape — covered in varying shades of red and purple bruises.

Your thighs and ass are littered with lovebites. Some are already fading, others are bound to stick around for another day or more. If you look real close, you can still see some of the bite marks from when Steve got particularly excited.

Covered in bits of him, remnants of his fingertips and mouth from where he’d love on you so ardently — you feel pretty.

“I’m gonna love so damn much you’re gonna be overflowin’ with it, alright?” he’d told you some hours earlier. “And you’re gonna be so full of it, you’re not gonna have a choice be to love yourself.”

You’d wanted to laugh about it then, but now it makes you want to cry — not of sadness exactly, but not quite of happiness either. It’s some foreign feeling in between that has you sick to your stomach and sparkling with contentment all at once.

You love how much Steve loves you.

And, one day, maybe sooner than you realize, you’ll start to love yourself the same way.

[asharasasylum]

Return to Me ♡  Aegon Targaryen x Reader

author's note: before you think this is stolen work, it’s not. If any of you recognise this, yes it is me, squirm honey. I’m sorry I left and just deleted all my blogs and I have now put an explanation up on my account. But please enjoy this reworked fic. warnings: non con. dub con. dark. violence. chained up reader. smut. 18+

Feather light kisses ran along the column of Aegon’s neck. Innocent and unsure as they brushed against his skin until they were trailing across his face. He knew these lips, soft and plush, tickling him as they pressed against him again and again. It was only when they finally reached his lips, that he got a real feel of them, catching them between his own as he leaned further in. It was short as you pulled yourself away with that sweet giggle of yours, making him sink further into his sleep filled bliss. 

It was a dream. It always was. 

You weren’t here. You hadn’t been home in five years. His sweet sister. 

You laughed again, his name slipping past your tongue as your hand ran through his hair. He knew what you were trying to do but he knew if he allowed his eyes open, you’d disappear. 

One more moment, he pleaded as he sank further into your touch. 

But your voice grew louder, a croak at the back of your throat, and you gripped his hair, pulling at his fine platinum hair until strands tore from his scalp. 

Aegon. Was it even you that called his name? He barely recognised the voice that flooded his ears now. Had he forgotten your voice in the same way he had forgotten your beautiful face. 

Aegon.

He forced his eyes open, only to be met with the pale light of dawn that covered his room. 

You weren’t here but his mother was. 

“Mother?” Aegon pinched his brows together as he took the sight of her in. 

Alicent bit at the skin around the nail of her thumb, standing by the window as she stared out at something. 

“Mother?” He questioned her again. 

She turned, releasing her thumb from her teeth as she gazed upon him. “I see you did not try to escape.” 

He rubbed his eyes at that, refraining himself from rolling them. “Why are you here?” He sighed. 

“We have visitors,” Alicent said, her tone sharpening like it did when she believed something to be of importance. “They’ll be welcomed on their arrival and will greet their King in the throne room.” 

“Throne room,” Aegon mumbled in agreement. 

“Where their King will be waiting.”

Aegon looked up again, gaze falling upon his mother’s hardened gaze. He simply nodded, covering himself with his sheets as he made a point to move. Only then she seemed pleased, leaving through the door, only for servants to take her place. 

He was trying, no one could deny that. 

In the years he had seen his father act as King, he had been far too sick to even sit upon the Iron Throne. He barely had any idea of how he was meant to act and in his foolishness, he had hoped he would never need to. 

Each time he sat upon that throne, the cold eyes of his mother or grandsire staring up at him made him sink further into his seat. Eventually he’d find his attention drawn elsewhere, slipping into the dark spots in his mind. 

Today was no different. 

His mind elsewhere as the visitors were announced and footsteps poured through into the throne room. He wishes he didn’t hear them, thinking if he slipped into the darkest corners of his mind, the empty and quiet ones, he’d find himself free from here. An escape he so desperately craved. But his grandsire cleared his throat, bringing him back to the reality before him. 

Aegon looked over at Otto, giving him a curt nod and trying to pay no mind to the glare he was shooting his way. Instead he brought his gaze forward, drawing in on the sea of green flooding through the doors. At first he didn’t pay close attention, eyes running along the many unrecognisable faces. It wasn’t until silver cut through the mass of green that his eyes met something he did recognise. 

It was you. 

Silver curls fell out of your braided hair, framing your face as you drew closer to him. 

How could he forget such a face? 

A day of activities, and then a dinner filled with lingering glances had been tearing Aegon apart. His skin itched in all those moments to reach out and touch you, to land his skin on top of yours even in the simplest of ways. 

You were opposite him and Aegon couldn’t help but take in your face. The way you had aged gracefully over the five years, growing into your features. He squinted, taking in the sight of your lips pressed into a thin line, eager to know what you were thinking. Your gaze lifted for a second, flickering towards him and in the candle light he swore that your eyes seemed wet. You twisted your gaze elsewhere again, and he watched as you blew out a long breath. 

Did you feel the way he felt? The heat that coursed through his body as he noticed how you filled out your dress. 

He took another sip of his wine, trying to bury these thoughts that seeped into his brain as he sat across from you. 

It wasn’t until in the hours of the night that he managed to get a moment alone with you.  He managed to catch up to you returning to your chambers, snatching you away for a moment and pulling you into a dark corner of the hallway. 

His hand clamped itself around your mouth as you tried to scream, muffling any noise that fell from your lips as he hushed you. You calmed once you noticed it was him but still frowned when he took his hand from your mouth. 

You spoke first, only he wasn’t met with your voice as it left your lips.

“You reek of wine,” you hissed at him, grimacing as you turned your face away.

It was your mother’s voice. 

He had parted his lips but the words got caught in his throat as he tried to speak. But he couldn’t, taken back by the sudden disdain you had for him.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” You questioned, giving him a pointed glare. “To your family? The embarrassment you cause us.” 

He retracted from you, blinking away fresh tears. This wasn’t you. Not the woman who had been his sole comfort growing up. The only person that understood his pain. His hand reached out towards you, hovering over your cheek as he whispered your name. 

“The hour is late,” you told him, stepping away from him. “I bid you goodnight, brother.” 

That night your voice didn’t sing to him in his dreams, nor did his lips find yours. Instead the mere presence of you a few steps away ate away at him, till the very thought of you being so close gnawed at his entire being. He wanted to act on it, to drag you from your chamber and into his. The very thought had him drowning himself in his cups, battling the urge to have you laid bare on his bed. 

He couldn’t do that to you. Not to you. 

Days turned into weeks and the thoughts that seemed to eat away at him had been easier to ignore when he had duties to fulfil. 

It was only days after his son's death did those thoughts seem to return to him again. 

He didn’t want you. He needed you. 

He needed your delicate hands to cup his cheeks and your nails to drag themselves across his scalp. A moment with his head in your lap would be enough comfort to stop the agonising hollowness that sat inside of him from screaming. It would feed him, nourish him for days until he’d seek you out again. 

But you were nowhere to be found. 

Instead he had found barrels of wine and the streets of silk, something that always promised to be there. It wasn’t appetising, barely touching the sides as he drowned himself in over indulgence in the hope to find comfort there. However, it sedated him for a few hours though, finding himself inebriated to the point where his mind was no longer his own. 

Aegon stumbled upon you in the halls of the Red Keep, body working against him as it basically flung itself your way. It was as if he forgot the bitter woman you had become, his mind thinking you were still that sweet girl he had grown up with. 

“Your Grace,” you greeted, stopping in your tracks at the sight of him and his men. 

He practically collapsed onto you and even though you slipped backwards, you managed to catch him. He should be embarrassed but he couldn’t find it in himself, only wrapping his hands around your upper arms as he gripped onto you for support. He barely noticed how his weight threatened to pull you down onto the floor. 

You grimaced again, the way you did days ago as you got a whiff of him and something in him grew cold at that. That hollow space inside of him grew wider as it screamed at him to be fed. 

“Don’t,” he slurred, tightening his grip around you as he continued to look at you. 

You tried to hide your wince with a glare as you held his gaze. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” his voice was clearer as he hissed. 

“How can I not?” You snapped back at him, lips cruelly snarling at him. “When you debase yourself like this. When you seem to be hell bent on ruining yourself and this family.” 

Your words ran like ice through his skin and he found himself fighting between shoving you down onto the floor and yanking you closer. 

“Why do you do this?” You questioned him and for a moment he swore your eyes softened, voice almost pleading. 

“I am King,” He simply stated, his lips twisting into a crooked grin. “You should watch how you talk to your King, sister.” 

“I think I should return to my rooms.” You snatched your arms from him, allowing him to stumble forward. “Your grace.” 

Aegon caught your wrist again before you could fully twist away from him, yanking you right back. This time your bodies were pressed together, if one were to make a move the other would fall along with them. 

He swore your eyes were heavy with tears even with the façade of anger and hatred you were trying to hold. 

The Kingsguard behind you made a step to move but with Aegon’s free hand and vicious glare he stopped him. 

“You are sworn to me,” Aegon shouted, voice echoing through the empty halls. “Think wisely of your next steps towards your King.” 

“Aegon,” you whispered, frightful. 

Your eyes widened, lips parting as you looked up at him. 

He had seen that look a hundred times, the terrified gaze that everyone bestowed upon him. One he had hoped to never find upon your face. 

“You’re right. We should all return to our rooms tonight,” he said, nodding. 

You nodded with him, swallowing as he let you go. You really believed he was being serious, that he was done with you, he could almost laugh. 

“I think I should pay my wife a visit tonight.” He stepped away from you, only for you to catch him by his sleeve, stopping him in his tracks. 

“You wouldn’t be so cruel,” you said to him, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You clearly don’t know me at all.” He grinned wickedly at you. “Do you, sister?” 

“I grieve with you. I really do,” you told him, your tone became vicious and cruel, matching his. “But as King, I wished you’d bare this better.” 

You left him with that, not taking a moment to stop as you stormed away.

Aegon wasn’t sure how he got you there. His mind hazed from the abundance of wine he’d consumed. But it couldn’t have been that clouded, the chains wrapped around your wrist hadn’t stirred your sleeping form. You were completely oblivious to being shackled to your bed. Unaware of how vulnerable you were as he stood at the edge of your bed, unable to do anything but watch you. 

You seemed innocent like that, lips formed into a soft pout and your platinum curls free as they partially shaded your face. It reminded him back to when you had been close, the sibling he genuinely found himself drawn to. Bonded through the trauma from the neglect and cruelty of your parents, never knowing affection unless it was in one another’s arms. Yet in your place now was an imposter, a demon that had invaded your body and taken control. 

He needed it gone and there was only one way he would be sure to do it. Thick tears ran down his eyes as he ripped his gaze from you, the thoughts of what he had to do to you consuming his mind. The hollowness inside him that desired to be filled believed you deserved it to be subjected to any cruel torment he desired to give you. 

But there was also that thought in the back of his mind, the burning memories cursing him of a boy weeping for you. 

You were promised to him before he had been forced upon Helaena, you were the sister that had been made for him. Your sole purpose was to be his. Your lips meant to soothe him in his sleepless nights, your presence to shield him from your parents scornful eyes and your womb to carry his children. The Gods were cruel, and his mother worse when a marriage prospect had been given to you, one that would have the soldiers of Highgarden backing his corner. Which left you being sent to Oldtown and all your duties being passed onto your younger sister. 

Luckily for him you hadn’t been married yet and he wondered if a proposal would still be considered with your stomach swollen with his seed. 

The tightness in his breeches grew at the thought, the heat no longer simmering but a burning desire as he became desperate to touch you. Like he’d die if he didn’t. 

You didn’t stir when he crawled on top of you. He was careful though, spreading his weight out, not allowing the bed to dip under it. 

He was gentle- too kind towards you -as he cupped your face. 

He wanted to slap you, to mark your subtle skin with his bare hands and the rings that adorned his fingers. 

Even in the dark shadows of your room he could make out your face, a rage and sadness filling him as he thought back to all the days before. He collapsed onto you, turning into a sobbing mess as he nestled his head in the crease of your neck, tears pooling here. 

It must have been what woke you, not his trembling hands groping at you through your sheer nightgown or his body hovering over yours, but his tears gracing your skin. 

You didn’t even open your eyes before you breathed his name, knowing it was him. 

“Sister,” he sniffed, pulling himself together as he let out a harsh breath across your face. 

“Aegon,” you whispered, eyes fluttering open. 

It was dark in the room but the light of the morning sun was starting to peek through, just allowing him enough light to gaze upon you. 

Your voice grew worried, goosebumps covering your skin as you realised the position of his hands. “Aegon, what are-” 

He doesn’t want to hear what you have to say. He doesn’t care for it. So he finds himself burying your words with his lips, crashing his down against yours. 

You tried to pull away, only to notice your bound hands as the metal clanked against the wooden bedframe. The realisation of your situation had you parting your lips to speak again, only allowing Aegon to take advantage of your open mouth, sinking his tongue inside. 

Aegon enjoyed the way you squirmed against him, your body fighting to be free from him, only to find yourself caged in by him. He laughed into your lips at the way the heels of your feet dug into your mattress, pushing yourself away, permitting him to sink further between your hips. 

He was sure you could feel it, the way his hardened member pressed up against you and to make sure of it, he pressed himself harder against you, angling himself right against your bare cunt, only his breeches separating you. 

When you finally managed to yank your head free, twisting it to the side, you were breathless, heaving to find the air to speak. 

“You can’t do this,” you cried, tears of your own covering your cheeks. “Aegon, please.” 

He didn’t care for your pleading voice, and to show it to you, he grabbed your face with his hand. His fingers gripped your jaw, snapping your head back to him as placed his lips back on yours once more. 

Any words of yours were lost on his tongue as he fought to steal your very breath from your body. He couldn’t help himself, teeth nipping at your lips, going between biting at you to clashing your teeth with his. 

His kisses were hungry, full of years of longing and yearning for you. They were also full of anger that burned in his veins, one that came from the tortured soul you had moulded him into, regarding him with the same cruelty your mother had given him. 

He didn’t need to breathe, the air from your lungs that he took from you was enough to feed him for a lifetime. He was sure of it. 

But he still let your lips go, slipping them further down as he attached them to your neck. 

You gasped for air once your lips were freed from him. Only for your body to be subjected to them instead. 

“Aegon,” It seems like it's the only thing you were able to say. Had he succeeded in consuming all your senses like you had his. 

“You are mine,” he growled into your skin, teeth nipping at the bare skin of your chest. His hands were bruising as they gripped onto your sheer gown, tearing at the material without even meaning to. “Mine.” 

He spoke those words into the subtle skin of your breasts, not even allowing him a moment to look upon them before he wrapped his mouth around one of your hardening buds. 

Even he was shocked from the sound that left your throat at that, a deep moan breaking free as he sucked at it. He was greedy to hear more, his fingers finding the other bud as he pinched it. But there was no other reaction from your lips, even when he gently tugged on it. 

It was only when he detached himself, able to look upon your face, did he see why. You were biting down harshly on your swollen lips, drawing blood that dripped down your chin. 

Aegon was eager to clean it up, his tongue licking up to catch every bit of it before slipping back into your mouth. This kiss was gentler, short as he was quick to press his forehead against yours. 

“I am the only one that is allowed to make you bleed,” he told you, before he lifted himself from your body. 

You were a sight below him, nightgown torn down the middle from his tight grip, revealing your naked flesh underneath. He should have done this the day you arrived but it's better late than never. 

You called out his name again, eyes widening as he ripped at his tunic and the ties of his breeches. Until they were on a pile on the floor and he was left bare before you. 

“Stop,” you demanded of him, voice strained in your throat. “You can’t do this.” 

“I can do this,” he seethed at your resistance, pressing his body down on yours. “There is no one that could stop me.” 

“Mother-” 

He chuckled wickedly, pressing his hardened member up against you. “She is the dowager Queen. It is me that holds the power of the crown now.” 

You don’t say anything, you only let out a raspy breath as he positions himself against you. 

Aegon grins wider as he finds wetness there, sliding his tip up and down as he spreads the slick over your folds. But the amusement falls from his face when he presses his head against yours again, unable to shake the way you stare at him. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he commanded but his voice slips on a croak. 

You stared up at him with wet eyes that matched his and your lips formed a pout as you swallowed. He knew this look, one that haunted his every waking and sleeping moment in the first year you departed from him. 

“Don’t,” He warned. 

“I can’t.” Your lips trembled as you whispered to him. 

Aegon forced himself inside in one full thrust, your whole body becoming rigid and your face scrunching in pain. 

“It hurts,” you cried, unable to do anything but tense up. 

“Good,” Aegon said and he meant it. 

He was slow as he moved out of you and back into you, torturously slow. It was punishment, he wanted you to feel every part of him, every ridge and edge as he took up space in your heavenly walls. 

He’d be satisfied in your pain as he took his pleasure. It’d teach you your place, always one with him. 

But as you sobbed underneath him, he felt guilt seeping in and he was quick to shove it down as he pressed his lips on top of yours. He didn’t manage to muffle your cries, he didn’t have it in him. They will be a reminder, he told himself. For what he wasn’t sure. 

His lips remained on top of yours as he thrusted himself inside your walls, only they barely grazed yours. It was like they teased you, sinking down every so often in time to catch every gasp and cry that fell from your mouth. Until he was sure that all he could hear was your ragged breaths and sweet moans. 

“There she is,” he groaned, finally finding comfort in you as hips picked up in pace. “You’ve finally returned to me, sister.” 

“You can’t do this,” you whimpered, eyes sinking bank into your skull at the pleasure that you were clearly feeling. 

“I’m going to breed you in this bed,” Aegon declared, carving his hips upwards as he pushed himself deeper. “I’ll make sure my seed takes until your stomach is swollen.” He latched onto your lips again, another short kiss, only this time he was sure it was reciprocated. “They’ll find us here, tied together like we always have been. Like we were always meant to be.” 

HOTD - Aegon Targaryen. HOTD - Fem x Male character Insert Master List

(Dividers by @cafekitsune)

[bellewintersroe]

Daniel Ricciardo x Horner Daughter! Reader - Smut

Barely any plot, just straight up filthy porn. You’re Christian Horner’s daughter in her early twenties (no inappropriate age gap, let’s say 12 years max, Daniel is 34 but I’ll leave that down to whatever you’re comfortable with. You and Danny sneak off during the British 2023 GP. Anybody want a part 2 to this?

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” The Australian moaned into her thick hair, inhaling the fresh scent of her apple shampoo. “Fuck..” he groaned out, knowing how badly he shouldn’t be in this position, not with her, not when he worked so closely with her dad, not when there was a race going on just outside of this room. “We really shouldn’t do this.” He moaned again, feeling the tickle of her nimble fingers unbuckling his belt. “Nobody’s gonna know.” She whispered, slowing down her actions as she tilted her head back up to face him. He was so handsome, tanned, muscular arms popping out of his black Red Bull shirt. She analysed his expression, a soft smile lingering as he watched back to her, waiting for her next move, his Adam’s apple bobbed, indicating the tension he felt. Even without his stressed gulp, she could feel the rock hard bulge that grew in his pants embarrassingly fast when she tugged him into the changing room. “Are you sure?” His larger hands smoothed over her shoulders, the touch of her skin intoxicating as he battled with the idea of carrying on with this.

The two had always flirted, Daniel always got nervous when she was about, staring at her for a little longer than everybody else did, adjusting his pants when she’d purposefully bend over in front of him. But now, this was different, this is what years of tension had reduced him to. “I’m positive, Daniel.” She muttered, pulling the belt from the loop now as he leaned back on the wall, swallowing again as he watched her swift movements.

“Fuck-“ he cursed again, the Australian twang causing her to hum as she smiled up to him seductively. “You can’t tell me you haven’t wanted this for months.” As the words fell off her tongue, Daniel felt her fingers inch closer to his twitching dick, needing more of her than he cared to admit. “I see the way you look at me.” She was confident, it was so good, Daniel was just about to reply when her hand slipped into his Calvin Kleins, resulting in an open mouthed moan to fall out of his lips. It was music to her ears. “Fuck, y/n, I shouldn’t. I can’t.” He was so painfully turned on, it hurt, but his hand caught her smaller wrist, halting her from wrapping her fingers around his erect cock. She gulped harshly, looking back to him as he straightened his back now, dropping his forehead.

“You can’t?” Her voice was light and airy, fingers still brushing over the hardness in his pants. “Fuck.” The taller man repeated again, hips involuntarily thrusting at the sensation. “D-do that again.” He then muttered, feeling her fingers stroke up and down his sensitive cock. His hand still caught her wrist, tightly, but as she smoothed over him he found himself pushing her further into his pants, a guttural moan escaping his mouth. He looked like a work of art, she thought, his eyes were heavy lidded, sometimes closed as his lips were hung slightly agape at the pleasant sensation.

“Really shouldn’t, but it feels so good.” He admitted with a soft laugh at how easily he’d given in. Daniel didn’t think he had the self control to stop. He wanted it, just as badly as she did. His whole abdomen was on fire, feeling her small hand wrap around him, tugging gently, pausing a moment to spit on her hand before returning to her movements, jerking him off at a mediocre pace.

Daniel hummed, hand moving up to the back of her neck, stroking the skin he’d always dreamt off. “Kiss me.” He panted. “Fuck, fuck, kiss me.” Their lip clashed together, meeting in an open mouth, hungry kiss that reeked of desperation. Her hands sped her movement, as Daniel moaned into the kiss, the blaring music from the inside of the paddock giving them some leeway with the noises they wanted to make.

Daniel pushed his hand against the wall, watching her wank him off in his pants. His eyes fixated on the bouncing of her tits, her pretty little sundress slipping down off one shoulder… he eased the other one down her arm, exposing her perky breasts as she let out a soft sigh at the cold air reaching her sensitive nipples.

“Touch me Daniel.” She whimpered, feeling her whole body utterly aching for some kind of attention. Daniel didn’t hesitate, licking his fingers and stroking over one of her pierced nipples. “Do you like them?” She moaned. “Fuckin’ love them, shit… keep stroking me like that.” He nodded, bending down to catch her right nipple between his lips. He grew quickly to realise her nipples were really fucking sensitive as he played with them, her whole body on fire as he began bucking his hips into hers.

“I know you’ve wanted this, Daniel.” She whispered, gasping as she removed her hand from his pants in order to slip the dress down to her hips. Her clothed pussy hurt she needed him that bad. The lack of contact drive Daniel crazy.

“Wanted my tits in your mouth, my hand down your pants.” She whined as he groaned against her breasts, licking a stripe up to her lips were they engaged in another messy kiss.

“Those pretty dress’s you wear.” He groaned, growing hornier by the second as he tugged her by the back of her hips into his front. Their crotch’s met and she let out a satisfied whimper at the contact, snatching him closer and tugging up his shirt. “Wanted to get under them so fucking bad.” He admitted as she hummed kissing his lips a little slower before retracting and holding his face to meet his eye.

“Did you think about me?” Her hand began smoothing up her skirt, disappearing under the cloth as Daniel’s eyes frantically glanced back and fourth from her face and where she began touching herself, slowly but very surely. Daniel wanted to see, he felt perverted when his own hand went to his cock, pulling himself out to begin fisting at his pulsating member.

“All the time.” Daniel then exhaled, glancing down at the movements between the two of them as they masturbated back to one another. “What did you think about?” She giggled, a little shyly which drove him crazy. He let out a breathy moan, head lolling forewords as she watched the intense curl and hardening of his bicep every time he wanked himself back and fourth.

“Fuck, I just wanna get you to myself, put my cock between those pretty tits of yours. And that mouth.” He couldn’t believe he was admitting all of this, it was so dirty, borderline sinful, but in that moment, he didn’t care. His mind flashed back to all the times he’d cum over his stomach and hands thinking about her, spending endless evenings confused as to why he harboured such strong feelings for a girl so off limits.

“Yeah?” She moaned, fingers rolling a little faster over her clit. “You want your cock in my mouth?” She pushed the rest of her dress on the floor, left in only a tiny pair of white underwear as she fell down with her discarded clothing.

Daniel was in shock, his voice hitched when her lips wrapped around his cock, leaking precum onto her warm tongue. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I bet it feels so good knowing you’ve got me on my knees, Daniel.” He moaned shamelessly, the suction of her cheeks hollowing around his penis making him feel dangerously good. “You’d get in so much trouble for this.” She giggled as he watched her in amaze, her tongue rolling over the sensitivity of his balls. “I don’t care… I don’t care.” The polite, sunshine like side of him had been replaced with one even he barely recognised. He felt too good to give two shits and if anybody barged in, even if it was Jesus, he couldn’t stop what they’d started. “Mmmmh.” She hummed against his cock, hands cupping and squeezing his balls lightly as an open mouthed smile covered his face as he leant against the wall. Daniel was stupidly close, if he didn’t pull her back up, he would’ve came directly down her throat with warning. Whilst the thought seemed good, Daniel didn’t want it to end that way. “I’m gonna fuck you now.” He told her, almost like a warning as he left her with a bruising kiss, spinning her around. Daniel licked his fingers, letting out a throaty moan when they collided with her wet warmth, rubbing over her entrance. If he wasn’t so desperate to fuck her then he’d take his time to divulge in this pussy. He could’ve played with her for hours.

She giggled again, a playful moan leaving her mouth as he spun her around, kneeling her up on the bench that she rested all fours on. “Be a good girl…” Daniel muttered sending a wave of butterflies for her. “Be a good girl and take it.” He smoothed a hand over her back before gently pushing into her. The stretch of her tight cunt was delicious, her back arching as a heavenly moan escaped her lips.

“That okay?” He shakily breathed out. “Yeah… please, fuck me, Daniel.” She begged, feeling him slowly thrust in and out of her, both of them adjusting to the tightness and just how deep he reached. “Fuck, you’re big.” She whimpered, pushing her hips back into his, shaking her bum a little to adjust to the sensation. Daniel wanted to fuck her senseless, he was just waiting for her to give the green light.

“Fuck you’re so big.” She gasped as his cock reached deep within her, with barely any warm up it was a lot to take. “That’s it, that’s it baby, push back on my cock.” Daniel spoke louder now, another moan escaping her lips as he pushed back into her, enjoying the delicious noises she made as he restrained himself.

“Daniel.” She choked out as he opened his eyes, running a hand over her upper back. He was gentle now, struggling to take in all her beauty without admitting the feelings he had lingering inside of him. “You okay?”

“It’s so good.” She groaned as Daniels eyes darkened in lust. “I want more.” She whined. “Please, I want more. I want it harder.”

“I’ll give you it, baby.” Daniel hushed, stroking her hair back slightly before he fucked back into her, her moans egging him on more and more. He was giving her deep, shallow thrusts, pulling her front up to press against his chest. Daniel was huffing and puffing, moaning into her ear as her dirty rambled tightened a knot in his stomach.

“Oh god, Daniel!” She squeaked, finger nails digging into his tanned arm as he groaned out, almost giving into the desire to cum. Just a few more seconds, and he’d be there… “Cum.” Daniel grunted out, feeling her fingers trail down to her clit where she was frantically rubbing. “Cum. Cum all over this cock, y/n.” The noises he was making was so lewd, mixed with the wet slapping of skin, she could feel herself reaching the edge as she frantically bounced back, her desire reaching a boiler point.

“I’m gonna cum! Fuck harder, Daniel! Fuck me harder!” Daniel let out another groan, fucking into her at a bruising pace, his balls pressing up against her ass as she wildly cried out, his hand slapping over her mouth as he pressed his lips to her ear. “Cum all over me.” He borderline whined, hearing her moans become more and more high pitched, the angelic noises she cried out sending him to heaven and back as she gripped onto him for dear life. He watched over her contorted face, beautiful, and her body, hips snapping into hers causing her tits to bounce which he grabbed, nipping at her nipple as her whole body tensed. “Cum-cumming, Daniel!” She choked, before several loud moans fell out of her mouth, her orgasm being overwhelmingly strong as every inch of her body jittered and shook, the most intense wave of pleasure causing her to fall limp as her pussy pulsates mercilessly around his weeping cock.

Daniel couldn’t handle the harsh pace, his breathing was loud and shaky and the tightening of her pussy during her orgasm tipped him over the edge. “Fuck! Shit!” He cursed, letting out a growl as his cock exploded his semen all over her ass and shot up her back. He hadn’t cum in over a week, and now he was experiencing the most intense orgasm as his head dropped on her shoulder, kissing there lightly.

The only thing that brought him back around was her gentle whimpers as she ground back against his sensitive cock head. She easily slipped in with how wet she was, milking both of their orgasms as Daniel hugged her close. “Daniel.” She sighed as he nudged his nose against the skin between her neck and shoulder. When he regained the ability to, he cursed at his semen spread across her back, using some tissue paper from the dispenser to tidy her up. There was no post-nut clarity. He didn’t feel ashamed, or dirty, he thought she looked beautiful, and his satisfactions were met, as was hers. The only thing that deterred him was the guilt of having to work with her father in minutes time, Daniel wasn’t so sure of giving into his fantasies was so… clever or respectful.

[dirty-jammies]

Late Night Desires PART 2! ✨💗🌙

Astarion x Fem!Chubby!Reader x Halsin

(Reader is AFAB and is referred to with she/her pronouns and terms like "good girl". )

AN: Thank you all SO much for all the wonderful comments and likes on part 1! And a super-duper big thank you to everyone that voted in the poll! 😁 Don't worry, I intend on writing more for these dudes, so if your favourite poll option didn't win, look lout for it in a future fic! I hope part 2 is to your likings! This is super-horny, super-filthy, and super-delicious... Just like our favourite bloodsucking twink and bear daddy~ Enjoy!

Lying back on the soft grass, you bit your lip as you watched the two men above you appreciate each other's bodies with their hands, lips locked in a passionate kiss. Astarion’s soft, pale hands exploring the swells of Halsin’s muscles, and Halsin's huge hands sliding down the slender curve of Astarion's waist. 

You were still feeling the gentle waves of residual pleasure wash over you from your previous orgasm, sweat cooling on your skin in the midnight air, but you could feel yourself getting excited again watching the two men. You dropped a hand between your thick thighs and whimpered as you brushed your oversensitive pussy, soft and wet and relaxed from Halsin's expert fingering. Your noise alerted the two elves and they parted from their kiss, looking down at you.

“Poor little thing,” Astarion cooed with sarcastic pity, “needing more already, are you?”

You trailed your gaze down Halsin’s body, over his broad chest, down his stomach that was mouthwatering layers of muscle and fat, down the hair-dusted treasure trail where it disappeared into his leather leggings which looked to be on the verge of bursting at the seams thanks to the very obvious erection the druid was sporting.

“I am, but I’m not the only one,” you said with a smile and extended your leg, using it to brush over Halsin’s covered cock. The druid let out a quiet groan at the treatment and you made your desire known, “I… I want to take both of you, with my mouth, and with my…”

“A wonderful idea,” Halsin praised and leaned over you, dragging the pad of his thumb over your soft lips, “I'd love a chance to feel your sweet mouth, little one.”

With his considerable strength, Halsin helped you flip over onto your stomach, letting out a pleased rumble at the view, “What a treat… So supple and round,” he remarked, moving to your front, “like a decadent dessert for us.”

“Isn’t she the sweetest?” Astarion purred and took a handful of your thick ass, fingernails sinking into your soft skin and making you whimper at the light, pleasurable pain, “Mm… she’s still leaking back here.” You whimpered as Astarion’s hand came down to cup your pussy. You gasped harshly as he laid a firm smack over it, making blood rush to your face in embarrassment at the feeling and the lewd, wet noise it made alongside Astarion’s accompanying laughter.

Halsin took your face in his hand and made you look up at him. He smiled at your docile, doe-eyed expression, “Are you ready?” You nodded and you could see his eyes darken with lust, “Do you think you can be a good girl and take all of me?” Again, you nodded, more eagerly this time, the praise tickling your brain and making you squish your thighs together. You licked your lips and smiled up at Halsin.

“Such a needy thing, isn’t she?” Astarion teased, and you could hear him stroking himself again, getting himself hard again, “I’m glad you decided to join us, Halsin, perhaps together, we’ll finally be able to satisfy her.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and looked over your shoulder at your vampiric lover, “Oh, right, I’m the insatiable one…” you teased right back and Halsin laughed heartily.

“I have a good feeling we’ll all end the night satisfied, little one, now please look back this way,” he gently guided your face back towards him, and your eyes widened as you saw he had lowered his leggings, letting his manhood free from its leather confines at last, “Do you like what you see?”

You moaned at the sight and could hear Astarion groan from behind you as well. It was at least nine inches of thick, hard cock, with a soft bush of hair at the base and two heavy-looking balls that seemed to be sloshing with potent seed. You felt your mouth water and you swallowed the drool accumulating in your mouth before you boldly leaned forward and kissed it, feeling the thick vein along the bottom throb at the affection. Halsin’s hand cradled your cheek as though you were made of glass, “I will try to be gentle, but you are making it quite difficult to hold back…” he warned and lined his cock up with your pretty, pouty lips.

You could feel your arousal growing once more as you slowly took Halsin’s length into your mouth. You felt the bulbous head slide past your tongue, his foreskin sliding past your lips. You moaned around his length at the musky, masculine smell coming from his loins, and you felt a dribble of your slick slide down your inner thighs.

“Very good, darling,” Astarion praised softly and you moaned around Halsin’s cock as you felt Astarion line up his own sizable cock with your drooling pussy, “now get ready,” he quickly slammed home, his narrow hips colliding with your cushy ass with a loud smack, and you cried out around Halsin’s thick length. You heard Astarion shudder out a moan behind you, “So fucking hot and wet, you’re simply divine, darling…”

You felt your mind grow fuzzy, thoughts turning into pleads for ‘more, harder, faster!’ Halsin’s slow, careful drag of his cock over your tongue to bump against the back of your throat contrasted Astarion’s greedy, fast slams into your cunt, your body jiggling with the movement.

“Such a perfect girl,” Halsin sighed as you worked your tongue along his frenulum, “taking the both of us so well~”

Astarion’s hands sank into the plush fat of your waist, holding you steady as his hips drilled into you, “Nnh, yes, such a perfect little pet, with such a delicious body… tell us who this body belongs to, darling~” he purred.

Halsin withdrew his cock long enough for you to gasp in a breath and cry out “You! It belongs to you! Astarionnnh~Hah-Halsin!!” Your eyes rolled back as Halsin stuffed your mouth once more, this time sliding all the way into your throat, his huge hands holding your jaw as you did your best not to gag on the huge cock. You could taste his salty precum smearing on your tongue. Delicious.

“You’re so good… so good,” Halsin growled, giving himself over to his pleasure, “Gods, I’m close…”

You moaned around him, eager to get a taste of his cum, when Astarion thrust inside you as deep as he could go, grinding, /grinding/ against your sweet spot and making you whine around the length stuffing your throat. Astarion landed a hard smack on your ass and you whimpered, hearing him grunt.

“Do you want to switch? You did want to breed her, after all.” he teased breathily.

Halsin nodded tightly and you felt your jaw go slack as he withdrew his cock. You saw it, dripping with your saliva and his delicious precum, twitching hard. You whined as Astarion pulled out of you slowly and you felt his hand pet your back soothingly, “Don’t worry, love, you won’t be empty for long~”

The two men switched positions, you smiled seeing how creamy Astarion’s cock had become as he fucked you. Slick evidence of your arousal was glistening on his cock, making it shine in the moonlight. Astarion’s hand wove into your hair and you leaned forward, licking his cock from base to tip.

“Dirty girl,” he rasped with a grin, “tasting yourself on my cock?”

You hummed an affirmative, looking up into his beautiful red eyes as you continued cleaning him. You felt Halsin’s hands spread you open and your breathing hitched, feeling the druid’s cock prod the back of your thighs.

“She’s so wet,” he remarked, “are you ready for me?”

Astarion let you go long enough for you to look back at Halsin. You could see him stroking his cock, staring at your twitching pussy with an almost intoxicated look. 

“Yes, Halsin!” You panted, shaking your hips and making your ass jiggle for him, “I want you to fuck me, too!”

Astarion moaned and urged you on, “And then what, pet?”

You whimpered needily, wanting Halsin’s cock to stuff you full, “Y-your cum… I want you to cum inside me, Halsin, please!”

“Very good, darling,” Astarion praised and the both of you watched as Halsin’s face gained a look of absolute rapture as he sunk into you. You choked on a loud moan as you felt his massive manhood slip into your wet pussy, dragging along your juicy, twitching walls. You felt a droplet of drool leak out of your mouth.

“Silvanus preserve me,” Halsin groaned, long and loud, “you feel so good, so tight…” he hissed, stilling when he was only half-way in.

Astarion turned you back to face him, and he traced his thumb over your mouth, collecting the drop of drool you let slip on the pad of his thumb before he pushed it back in your mouth. He sneered down at you, but you could see the love in those crimson eyes, “/Messy/ girl, you’re already falling to pieces, aren’t you?” He pressed his leaking cockhead back to your lips, “Suck.”

With bleary eyes, you obeyed, moaning around Astarion’s cock as Halsin continued to press into you. You whined as the druid finally bottomed out; you felt his heavy balls pressing tightly to your oversensitive little clit, you felt his huge hands bracing himself on your squishy waist, but most distracting and pleasurable of all, you felt his flaring cockhead kiss your cervix, his girth pressing tightly against your walls! You flexed around him, begging Halsin to fuck you stupid while your mouth was occupied.

Soon you were rocked back and forth, the men settling on a pattern that rocked you back on the druid’s massive cock, then forwards so Astarion could fuck your throat. They made sure neither your mouth or pussy was empty at a time. You clutched the grass beneath you like a lifeline, you felt like you were losing your higher brain functions. Nothing else mattered in this beautiful moment other than the pleasure you felt, and the pleasure your lovers were taking from you, greedily fucking your sweet little holes like their lives depended on it.

You heard Halsin let out a deep groan and his hands migrated from your waist to your hanging belly, holding you tight, his own warm belly and chest pressing into your back as he took you in a more bestial position. The thought of Halsin losing control as he pounded you, losing his own grip on propriety and fucking you like a wild animal, made you scream around Astarion’s length and the vampire withdrew from you briefly and cupped your jaw as you whined long and loud, announcing your second orgasm of the night. Halsin fucked you through it, rasping and grunting filthy praise all the while.

“Perfect girl, cum on my cock, such a good girl. Surely you can do it again for me, yes?”

You nodded helplessly as you convulsed around his pistoning cock, drool freely dripping from your parted lips, “Uh huh!” you could only whine in reply.

With a long index finger and thumb, Astarion squished your chubby cheeks together, making you pout. You heard him click his tongue down at you, “What a greedy girl we have~ Already cumming again?” he used his other hand to guide his cock to your mouth, lightly slapping your cushiony lips with his angry red cockhead, “help me cum and we’ll see to that third orgasm you need.”

Haslin let out a breathy laugh from behind you, groping your soft ass as he slowed his pace, letting you recover a bit, “Third, fourth… however many she wishes!”

“You’re already spoiling her!” Astarion whined, but you could hear his smile, even when you closed your eyes to obediently take his cock back onto your tongue, “Though she does beg to be spoiled, doesn’t she? To be pampered and fucked full all day long. Thaaat’s a good pet~” he cooed to you as his fingers wound into your soft tresses.

With a nod from you, the two men resumed their steady pace. Astarion in, Halsin out. Halsin in, Astrarion out… The noises you three were making filled the air around you; your sweet, muffled whines mixed with Astarion’s low voice spitting vile taunts mixed with sincere, divine praise, and Halsin’s rough, almost animalistic growls and grunts as he became more and more desperate. The symphony of your voices was accompanied by the filthy, wet noises of Astarion fucking your sloppy mouth, and Halsin drilling your gushing, oversensitive pussy. You felt your breasts and stomach swinging under you with every movement, felt Halsin’s broad hips slapping your cushy ass with every deep thrust he gave, dragging his heavy cock along your sweet spot before it squeezed against your cervix. You felt his heavy balls kiss your hard little clit before he dropped a hand under you to circle it, making your eyes roll back. You wondered if you would cum again before the men did?

You didn’t have long to ponder that before you heard Astarion hiss out a strained warning, “Fuck, darling, I’m going to cum,” he pulled your hair back hard and you whined in pleasurable pain. You looked up blearily into Astarion’s gorgeous red eyes that were burning with intense lust, “I’m going to shoot straight down your throat, you will swallow every last drop,” he ordered, withdrawing for a moment so you could breathe, “then you’ll thank me for the meal. Understand?” he grinned sharply as you nodded, his smile nearing on crazed, and he licked his lips before plunging down your throat. 

Your eyes rolled back in your head, Halsin continuing to pound you while you felt Astarion release pump after pump of hot, bitter cum right down your throat. The vein on the underside of his manhood throbbed against your tongue. The vampire’s head rolled back and he let out a long, beautiful moan as he fed you. Halsin slowed down his pace for a moment, letting you swallow the thick fluid as AStarion withdrew his spent cock.

Good, obedient girl that you were, you smiled up at him hazily and licked your lips, “Thank you for the meal, Astarion~” you panted, showing him your empty mouth.

“Perfect pet,” Astarion praised and caressed your beautiful, soft face, catching his breath, “Now, let dear Halsin finish you off!” he nodded back at Halsin and you cried as the druid started up at a punishing pace.

You writhed beneath him, sweat dripping onto the grass under you as your toes curled in the night air. Both you and Halsin were beyond the point of words, just crying and moaning and grunting and screaming as pleasure overtook you. Halsin took greedy handfuls of your plush fat, using it as an anchor to pull you back on his cock, drilling deeper and deeper, hitting spots inside you never touched before. It was all too much! Too much! The feeling of that massive cock fucking you with intent to breed, Halsin’s strong arms holding you in place while Astarion’s hands now held you as if you were a delicate, priceless gem, the taste of Astarion’s cum at the back of your throat. You couldn’t hold back your voice, whiny and far-gone.

“Gonna cum gonna cum gonna cum- Halsin! HALSIIIN!” You screamed into the night as your body bent, thrashing as orgasm overtook you. Your vision went white as Halsin growled behind you.

“Gods, yes! Cum on this cock!” He railed you through it, body on top of yours, nearly pressing you into the dirt as you squirted around his cock, “take my seed, take all of my- oh fuck-!”

You felt yourself spasm in your lovers’ hold, cumming again, gentler, as you felt Halsin empty a torrent of hot, sticky cum into your womb. Halsin gasped for breath as he gave a few final thrusts, as if ensuring every drop of his seed was safely planted in you. He slowly pulled out and you whined at the sudden loss, and you held a hand over your well-used pussy to make sure nothing leaked out. 

Halsin laid back on the grass, and Astarion guided your boneless body to lay next to him. You immediately curled around Halsin, one of his strong arms wrapping protectively around your shoulders. Astarion joined his other side, also being pulled to cuddle on top of the druid.

You sighed blissfully. Your sweat had cooled in the night air, but you were warmed by the men near you, and you could tell the feeling was more than mutual. The moon and stars shone above you, providing light so you could see your lovers’ satisfied smiles. 

Astarion fluffed his hair, which had gotten more than a bit tousled during your fun, “Well, Halsin, I sincerely hope you enjoyed yourself as much as we did,” he propped his chin up on one of Halsin’s pecs and gave him a coy smile, “I would very much like to do this again~”

Haslin let out a quiet laugh and his chest rumbled with it, “If the both of you would be willing to have me again, I would love that.”

You nuzzled into Halsin’s neck and pressed a warm kiss to his sticky, sweat-lined skin, “Mmh~ I’d love that. There’s so much I’d love to try with you two.”

Astarion grinned and reached over, tasking your hand in his own, “Really, darling~? Do tell us, then. What could possibly be on your mind?” Halsin and Astarion looked down at you, curious with a faint spark of renewed lust.

You shook your head, “I’ll tell you next time,” you let out a yawn as fatigue creeped up on you, “but… don’t let me stop you two from fooling around if you’re not spent yet.” you added with a playful smile.

Halsin pinched your cheek and you giggled, “Naughty little thing,” he teased, but he cast a glance at Astarion, “Though… if you wanted, Astarion…?” he left the question hang.

Astarion huffed and hid his blushing face on the other side of Halsin’s neck, “And you call me insatiable!? I need my beauty rest!”

Halsin laughed and pulled you and Astarion closer, “Well then, beauties, why don’t we rest? We can regroup with the others in the morning.”

You and Astarion agreed, and snuggled up to the cuddly druid until the sun eventually bathed your bodies in it’s warm embrace. Though you had to admit, now you would prefer the embrace of your vampire and your druid any day.

~💞~

AN2: Oh!! Taglist! I'm gonna tag everyone who liked to the taglist post I made PLUS everyone who commented about part two on the first part lmao~

@bamblepee @nova-starion @rosaliemizzrym @cross-stitch-grandma @serendipitous-fernweh @winnieshitposts-blog @audreonne @missusbarnes-rogers @darkprincemara @iwannabealocalcryptid @flowerfoxsstuff @teramjna @huuvu @somewhereonliknow @exophelia @absinthe-adonis @aquarivsrot