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[tokospringbedterdekatsemarang]

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[symbiomancy]

mirror —ghost

—summary: The summer heat has you slipping between sleep and reality. Something not-so corporeal helps you cool off.

—warnings: ghost x human, monsterfucking, piv sex, mirror sex (technically), creampie, dubcon/somnophilia.

—word count: 1,3k

—a/n: no thoughts just horny. also on AO3

The best thing about living alone, you’ve come to realize, is the privacy. You’re free to do whatever: take your time in the bathroom in the morning or whenever you want, spend an eternity soaking in the claw-footed tub this house came with, walk around your home in the skimpiest clothing imaginable (not only does it help to beat the summer heat, it also (technically) leaves you less laundry to do), splay out on your king-sized bed in a starfish position, limbs akimbo, drag the full-length mirror in your bedroom in front of your bed and stare at the way any dildos you own get swallowed up by your greedy cunt.

No point in wondering why the last owner was in such a rush to get rid of it; so much so that he accepted well below market price for a freshly renovated, fully-furnished house with a moderate backyard in a relatively safe neighborhood.

The longer this heatwave lasts, the skimpier your clothes get. There’s barely any fabric to cling to your constantly sweat-slick skin by this point, just a tiny skirt hiked so far up your bare skin touches the wooden chairs when you sit and a shirt that’s more spaghetti straps than torso. The huge, double-door fridge is a reprieve, cool air billowing out and caressing your heated skin. It almost feels like a genuine caress, like someone’s cool hands sliding down your body.

Seriously, you need to get out of the house and meet people instead of fantasizing about the cool touch of your fridge. But the outside is infinitely hotter than the inside.

You kick the bedsheet away from your body, grumbling at the lingering day heat. You’d stripped the sheet from the duvet the moment spring chill had plunged into summer heat and stuffed the latter into the closet until fall. Even then, you tend to wake up without the sheet in the morning, finding it crumbled on the floor. Yesterday was another sweltering day. It has left the air stuffy and the fans only push the warm, stale heat around without providing any relief. You unplug them in a fit of frustration and cringe at the feeling of moisture when you lay against your pillow again.

Sleep doesn’t completely evade you but you’re not fully asleep, either. You think so, at least. There are moments of brief blackouts, where you open your eyes and turn to look at the time only to find not even an hour has passed. Your eyelids feel heavy.

Then, there are the hands on your body. Caressing, petting, groping. They’ve been there for some time now, just touching, feeling. They’re not cold, just cool enough to feel pleasant against your heated skin and inject some relief into your sluggish thoughts of sun and heat. A sigh escapes your lips at the sensation. Fingertips trance the expanse of your skin, draw constellations between your moles and freckles. The other hand moves to rest on your breast. It kneads the soft flesh, gently pinches your nipple between its fingers, runs a thumb over it.

You inhale sharply, heart thrumming in your chest, pressing your thighs together. It does little to quell the desire for friction, or touch. The hand tracing its fingertips down your body reaches your hip, then skirts across your flesh to rest on the inside of your thigh. You blink languidly; the heat is stifling, your head feels thick.

Cool fingers dip between your legs, press against your clit like — like they’re what? Testing the waters. You stifle the half-baked moan in the back of your throat.

The hands leave you all at once and you croak out a sound that doesn’t even sound like you, desperate and needy. They’re back not even a moment later, though, heavy on your hips as if they’re trying to guide you. You reach for a pillow and prop it under yourself. It’s a nice dream, you don’t need it to end because it forces you into an uncomfortable position that drives home the realization that it’s a dream. Because then you’ll wake up, alone again.

Something thick and heavy rests on your pelvis. Maybe this makes you a bad sex partner in this brief dream but you don’t want to reach out and touch it, guide it. If it’s your dream, your partner should know the where and how. The cool hands planted firmly on your hips pull you forward just slightly and the weight from your pelvis disappears. It rests against your entrance, but doesn’t push forward just yet. One hand leaves you and the tip of its cock drags through your slick folds, bumps against your clit.

“Please,” you croak, staring at the ceiling. Your throat is dry.

The stranger’s cock angles itself against your entrance and pushes in carefully. You take a slow, deep breath in, try to relax around the pleasant intrusion. The hands — under your knees now, guiding your legs apart. A body presses against your thighs. Whoever it is, stops, pauses for a moment. You clench around the cock buried in your cunt. A cold, shuddering breath hits you. Goosebumps rise on your skin. The hands push your knees further apart until there’s an ache in your muscles, and then they depart, one finding a spot on your waist, the other your breast.

It moves, then. The cock nestled deep within you sharply pulls back and thrusts in again. You scramble for anchor, to grab onto something but all you come up with is sheet that tugs loose. Their pace is dizzying, thighs slapping against yours, cock plunging into your wet cunt. The sound is so wet and lewd and goddamned loud in the still silence of your home. You go to stifle the half-moan half-groan in your throat but— wait, it’s your house, your dream, who gives a fuck about the neighbors? The cock in your cunt pulls nearly all the way out and thrusts in again and hits that spot, so good, dragging against your slick walls and you swear you feel every groove and dip, every goddamn vein. Your moan slips out involuntarily, and whoever it is here with you, seems invigorated.

The hand on your breast leaves, a forearm rests around your thigh, pulling it up and — fuck, their cock drives in so incredibly deep you nearly choke on your own spit. You scramble upwards, resting your weight on your elbows to look at your partner —

There’s no one there. Your bedroom is empty. But there’s a hand on your torso, cool fingers digging into your flesh and a forearm supporting your thigh and the shape of someone’s shoulder against your Achilles’ tendon. There’s a cock plunging into your cunt and you hear someone’s labored breathing.

The full-length mirror skids across the laminated floor and stops in front of your bed. Something invisible is thrusting into your pussy, gaping back at you in the reflection. Your face burns — your whole body burns. You can’t look away from the debauchery staring back at you. Whoever — whatever — it is, thrusts harshly, cold hands pulling you against their body. Your thighs are wet and sticky, slamming against theirs, your hole gaping back at you, being abused by something you can’t see. It sends you hurtling over the edge.

You come around the phantom cock with something reminiscent of a shriek and a moan and terror and pleasure all combined. Your cunt clenches around the thing your muscles sore and sweat beading on your skin. The cock plunges into you again and again and again and you blink back the tears and the fear and the overwhelming pleasure. The fingers on your body dig into your flesh and the cock nestled in you buries deep, thighs pressing against your own, and spills. It’s so warm, so pleasant. The mirror skids closer, right until it touches the edge of the bed.

Your cunt is forced wide open. Stuffed. The pearlescent cum coats your walls, oozes out from inside you, dribbles onto your bedsheets. The cock in you stays there but the body moves.

A small fogged patch, like warm breath, appears on the mirror, and then, letters.

Hi :)

Oh. So that's why this place was so cheap.

banners by @/cafekitsune

[dtaylor67]

Choosing the Perfect Luxury Hotel Mattress for a Five-Star Sleep ?

Unveiling the Secret to Five-Star Sleep: Choosing the Perfect Luxury Hotel Mattress for Your Home in Ireland

Have you ever returned from a luxurious vacation feeling utterly refreshed and revitalized? Think back — what element contributed most to that feeling of rejuvenation? Chances are, it was the incredibly comfortable bed in your hotel room. Now, imagine recreating that same blissful sleep experience every night in the comfort of your own home in Ireland.

The secret lies in the Hotel Mattress. Hotel mattress brands understand the importance of a good night’s sleep for their guests, which is why they invest in Luxury Hotel Mattresses. These mattresses aren’t just about comfort; they’re meticulously crafted to provide superior support, pressure relief, and ultimate relaxation.

But how do you choose the perfect luxury hotel mattress for your home in Ireland? Here’s a comprehensive guide to help you navigate the world of Luxury Beds Ireland and Luxury Handmade Beds:

Understanding Your Needs:

The first step is to understand your individual sleep preferences. Do you prefer a Spring Mattress For Hotels that offers a classic bounce, or are you drawn to the pressure-relieving comfort of Memory Foam Mattresses? Consider your sleeping position — side sleepers often require a softer mattress, while back sleepers might benefit from a firmer option.

Luxury Doesn’t Have to Mean Compromise:

Luxury Hotel Mattress Brands offer a variety of features to cater to different needs. Look for mattresses with:

Multiple Support Layers: A combination of high-density foam, pocket springs, and other supportive materials ensures optimal comfort and proper spinal alignment.

Pressure-Relieving Technologies: Memory foam or gel-infused comfort layers adapt to your body shape, minimizing pressure points and promoting blood circulation.

Temperature Regulation: Advanced cooling technologies like breathable fabrics or cooling gel layers can help you maintain a comfortable sleep temperature throughout the night.

Beyond the Basics:

While these features are essential, Luxury Beds Ireland go a step further. Consider handcrafted details, high-quality natural materials like organic cotton and hypoallergenic fabrics, and exquisite hand-finished touches. These elements elevate your sleep experience to a whole new level of luxury.

Finding the Perfect Fit:

Mattress Ireland offers a wide range of sizes to accommodate your needs. From King Size Mattress Ireland for spacious master bedrooms to Single Mattresses for guest rooms, there’s an ideal option for every bed.

Investing in Quality:

Luxury Hotel Mattresses are an investment in your sleep and well-being. While the initial cost might seem higher, remember that a good mattress can last for a decade or more. Think of it as an investment in countless nights of restful sleep and a significant improvement in your overall health.

Exploring Your Options:

Luxury Bed Companies in Ireland offer a variety of Luxury Hotel Mattress options. Consider visiting showrooms to test different models and feel the difference for yourself. Look for brands like Respa Beds https://www.respabeds.ie/ that prioritize quality materials, expert craftsmanship, and a commitment to creating the ultimate sleep experience.

Remember, the Most Luxurious Mattress Brands are not just about price; they focus on innovation, comfort, and exceptional quality.

Embrace the Five-Star Sleep Experience:

By choosing the perfect Luxury Hotel Mattress, you’re not just investing in a comfortable bed; you’re investing in your overall health and well-being. Imagine waking up every morning feeling refreshed, energized, and ready to take on the day. Transform your bedroom into a haven of luxury and relaxation, and experience the five-star sleep you deserve in the comfort of your own home in Ireland!

[bloatedandalone04]

TikTok Trends

➪the one where drew is a little clueless in regards to your love for tiktok, and even more confused every time he finds himself thrown into another trend.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, drew being confused for 90% of this, mentions of smut, size difference, slightly younger reader (3 year age gap), there was going to be smut, but i am saving it for another fic.

Word Count: 3.2k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Drew was laying on the king sized bed he shared with you, his sweatpant covered legs crossed as he lounged back on both his pillows and one of yours. His phone was in one of his hands, his thumb scrolling through the latest game results he missed last night when he was too busy fucking you into this very bed. 

He was oblivious to the way you were rummaging around in the dresser, though his eyes would occasionally flicker over to you as he scrolled. Tonight was date night, and he knew you would take a lot longer to get ready than he would, so he was staying in his sweats and hoodie until you were ready since he’d just throw something on and then be out the door within the same minute. You were being awfully quiet, and Drew was also oblivious to the way you had propped your phone up behind a picture frame, just out of view.

Drew’s free hand ran through his hair, his recent haircut making his scalp feel a little itchy, but he wasn’t complaining, because this haircut was what had you begging him to fuck you every night this week, so clearly it was working for you. 

“Hey, babe,” he murmured, not looking up from his phone. “Where do you want to go tonight? Anywhere you want, I don’t care, I just want to know if I should call in beforehand.”

You bit your lip as you adjusted your phone, your eyes shining with mischief as you moved away from the dresser. “I’m not sure,” you answered as you walked into the closet and grabbed the dark blue dress you were planning on wearing tonight. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

You had to hide your smile as you walked back into the bedroom and set the dress down on the bed next to Drew’s legs, and you had to ignore just how sexy he looked right now as you glanced over at your phone. 

Drew had never been one to be very active on social media in the two years you’ve been with him, so you knew for a fact that he would have no clue what you were about to spring on him. 

Reaching for the hem of your shirt, you bunched the material in your fingers before pausing, “Hey, baby,” you laughed, poking his knee as you swayed a bit on your feet. When Drew just let out a grunt, you continued, “Can you leave for a few minutes while I get dressed? I’ll be quick.”

You watched as Drew’s eyes flickered all over his phone’s screen before he hummed, moving to sit up. Just as his legs swung over the side of the bed, he seemed to have finally fully processed your words, because his eyes narrowed before he looked over at you. “Wait, what?” 

A laugh threatened to escape your mouth, but you managed to compose yourself before he could realize this was yet another trend he was currently being forced into. “Can you, like, get out for a sec? I need to get ready for tonight,” you asked again, gesturing to your shirt and sweats. 

One of his brows raised and he glanced down at your current outfit before looking over at your dress. “Uh, why?” he asked, sounding so genuinely confused, you almost cackled. “We live together, baby. I’ve seen you naked, like…a million times now.” 

You covered your mouth and crossed your arm over your chest as you tried to keep this going for as long as you could. “Just…please?”

Drew’s brows furrowed as he locked then set his phone down on the bed beside him, his fingers brushing against your thigh. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, reaching for your hand. His voice was so deep but so sweet right now, you felt yourself caving in already. “Tell me, baby.”

“It’s nothing,” you say, but your voice sounded unconvincing even to you. “I just don’t want you in here while I get changed.”

Drew narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the pillows once again, clearly making no move to get up and leave. “Babe, come on,” he mumbled, giving you a pointed look as you tried to keep up the act for a little longer, but he was the actor, not you. “We’ve lived together for half a year now. I’ve seen you take off clothes in front of me more times than I can count. What’s so different now?”

You had a sneaking suspicion that he was catching on, and you knew the act was pretty much up. Still, you tried to go for a little longer, “There’s no difference…” you trailed off, then saw the look of realization flash in his pretty blue eyes. 

“Oh, I get it,” he muttered, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he looked up at you. “This is another TikTok thing, isn’t it?” 

You furrowed your brows and shook your head, but he had caught you. “No,”

Drew grunted and nodded his head, “Uh huh, where’s your phone?” he asked, glancing around the bedroom as you tried to think of a way to salvage your prank. 

“It’s not a TikTok thing-”

“Come on, where is it?” he cut you off, his tone light and relieved as he now knew that nothing was wrong and this was just him falling for another trend going around on an app he didn’t even have installed. 

With a huff, you nodded towards the dresser, and Drew shifted a bit so he could see your well-hidden phone behind the picture frame. 

“I fucking knew it,” he laughed, rubbing his hands over his face as he leaned back again. “Why do I keep falling for these things?”

“Because you’re old and refuse to use social media,” you mumbled, reaching for your phone and ending the video. 

He scoffed from behind you, reaching over to wrap his hand around one of your thighs. “I’m only three years older than you, brat,” he muttered, pulling you towards him. “I’m not nearly old enough for you to call me that.” 

“Three and a half,” you hummed, your attention quickly slipping from your phone as you let him turn you around and pull you to stand in between his legs. Your free hand caressed his jaw, his stubble pricking your fingertips as you gazed down at him, “Can’t forget the half.”

Drew hummed, leaning in to press his face against the front of your shirt. “Mm, right,” he rasped, leaning back on the bed and pulling you with him so you are straddling his waist. “Can’t forget the half.”

You dropped your phone onto the bed next to his, both devices quickly being forgotten about as you braced your hands flat on the sheets on either side of his head, your lips finding his in a deep kiss that quickly turned into something a lot more heated. 

-

“You’re not doing it right,” you whined, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you walked towards your phone to restart the recording. 

After finding a trend that would actually involve Drew participating in it, you decided to give him a break from all the prank trends you pull on him and asked if he wanted to try this couple trend you saw all over your for you page. Surprisingly enough, he agreed to. You assumed he was probably tired of falling for the pranks all the time, so this way he could be fully aware of what was happening. 

With that being said, even though he was an amazing actor, he fucking sucked at following directions. 

“What do you mean I’m not doing it right?” he asked, holding his arms out as he watched you set your phone back up against the TV stand. “I’m picking you up, am I not? Is that not what I’m supposed to do here?”

You rolled your eyes and bit back a laugh as you stood back up straight and moved towards him. “No, you’re supposed to flip me upside down,” you said, “Did you even watch the video I sent you?” 

“I watch all the videos you send me,” he mumbled, glancing over at your phone before stepping closer to you. “Just tell me what to do, okay?”

You grinned and moved to stand in front of him, and you reached behind you to take Drew’s wrists in your hands. “Just hold me here,” you instructed, placing his big hands on your hips as you both faced the camera. “Then lift me and turn me upside down.” 

“That’s it?” he asked, giving your hips a teasing squeeze as he dipped his head down and pressed a firm kiss to your temple. “What if I drop you?”

You look over your shoulder at him and raise your brow, “Well, don’t,”

Drew laughed, the deep sound rumbling against your back as you looked at your phone. “Alright, ready?” he asked, and you nodded. Drew bent his knees slightly, ensuring he had a good grip on you, before he straightened back up again and easily lifted you off the ground. 

That was the easy part though, but after a few seconds, he managed to turn you upside down so your legs were by his shoulders and your head was by his knees. “Yay, baby!” you squealed, holding onto his arms tightly as he dangled you above the floor. 

Drew let out another deep laugh as he held you securely in place, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist. “Is this it?” 

“Yes,” you answer, helplessly swaying in his hold as you look at your phone from your upside down angle. “I hope it turned out well. I don’t want to do this again.”

“Why not?” Drew asked, locking his arms around your thighs as he swayed you even more, making another quiet squeal leave your lips. “Now that I know what to do, this is easy.” 

Your grip tightened on his arms as you held on for dear life, a soft whine escaping your mouth. “Drew,”

He laughed and stilled before managing to guide your legs down until you were upright again. “Alright,” he grinned, steadying you with his hands on your waist. “Are we good?”

You nodded and leaned into his touch for a few seconds before moving away to grab your phone. After ending the video, you clicked on it to make sure it came out okay, and as you did so, Drew came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“How’d it turn out?” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder as he glanced down at your phone as well. 

“Good,” you answered, playing the video and watching with a dumb smile on your face as your boyfriend effortlessly picked you up and managed to do the trend rather successfully. Turning your head, you pressed a quick kiss to his chin, “Thank you.”

Drew hummed, kissing you properly as his hands splayed across your belly. “‘Course,” he mumbled, kissing you again before looking back down at your phone. “You look so small, baby. Send that to me.”

You grinned and nodded as he stepped away from you and towards the doorway. “You could see it on my TikTok if you actually had the app,” you pointed out as you sat down on the couch. 

“Not happening,” he called over his shoulder before giving you a teasing smirk and leaving the room. 

As you watched the video again and matched it up with the song it would go with, you bit down on your lip, because Drew looked really hot in it, and it was extremely obvious how fit and strong he is since he lifted you up with ease. 

You could only imagine all the comments you’d get, and all of them would be girls thirsting over your boyfriend. 

-

The ‘calling your boyfriend friend names’ prank was all that was currently on your for you page on your TikTok, and you knew after watching the first one that you were going to do it to Drew. 

Your poor, unsuspecting boy who was really never safe as long as you had access to the app, or any app for that matter, because he was just too easy.

Drew was laying back on the bed, one arm propped behind his head as he browsed through various movies on Netflix, his gaze fixated on the TV that was mounted on the wall above the dresser. 

He looked so focused as he tried to find something to watch, and you knew he was looking for something that you would like since you and he had very different tastes when it came to movies. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do. 

Almost. 

“Dude, just pick a movie already,” you laughed from your spot on your side of the bed, discreetly angling your phone to capture his entire upper body without making it look obvious. 

Drew’s head turned in your direction, one of his brows raising as his thumb paused on the remote. “I’m trying to,” he muttered, squinting his eyes at you, “Dude.”

You held in your snort and shook your head, looking back up at the TV. “I don’t care what we watch, man,” you mumbled and felt him shift next to you, but you kept your eyes locked on the screen. “Just pick something.”

The remote was set down on the bed between your body and his, and when you glanced up at him, he was softly glaring at you, “I will, once you call me by my actual name instead of dude or man,” 

You actually laughed, but this one fit in well, “Okay, Drew,”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he groaned, moving towards you and dropping his head to your chest. He presses his face against your cleavage as you reach over and prop your phone up on the nightstand. “Call me what you always call me.”

You grinned as you draped your arms around his shoulders. “Aw, buddy,” 

Drew’s head had never snapped up faster than it did when you said that. “Why are you calling me that?” he asked, placing his hands flat against the bed on either side of your hips as he pushed himself back up so he was kneeling beside your still reclined form. “Baby, what’s going on?”

You pressed your lips together as you reached up and cradled his pretty face in your hands. “Nothing,” you answered, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. 

Drew gave you a skeptical look before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. His big hands found your hips as he deepened it, his tongue brushing against yours, and you returned his kiss like you always do. “Are you sure?” he murmured against your mouth, and you knew your knees would’ve buckled if you were standing up from how deep and sexy his voice is. 

But you couldn’t think about that right now, and you realized you would have to edit that intense kiss out of the video so TikTok didn’t flag you, which would suck. “I’m sure,” you confirmed, then fucked with him further, “Everything’s all good, pal.”

Drew gave you a look of disbelief as he pulled away and sat back on his knees again. “Pal? Did you seriously just call me pal?” he gaped at you, his brows drawn together in confusion and something that looked a lot like betrayal. “Babe, what the fuck did I do? I know you’re mad at me, you keep calling me all these random names. Tell me what I did.”

You laughed and shook your head, pushing yourself up so you were sitting in front of him. “You didn’t do anything, Drew,” you assured him, but could tell that your words had very little effect on him. “I promise.”

His eyes narrowed as he glared at you, moving back to his original spot on his side of the bed. “Then stop calling me dude or pal,” he muttered, picking the remote back up and lifting his arm so you could cuddle against his side. 

You actually did snort this time as you crawled over to him, “Okay, bro,” you mumbled as you slid under his arm, but as soon as the name left your lips, Drew was standing up from the bed and looking down at you with his hands on his hips. 

“Bro? Bro?” he echoed, “No, something is definitely wrong here. What is happening right now, Y/n? Are you breaking up with me or something?”

You let out a loud laugh as you rolled onto your side. “No,” you answered, shaking your head as you looked up at him. “I’m not breaking up with you, Drew. Why would I do that?”

He sounded a bit desperate now as he braced one knee on the edge of the bed and asked, “Then why are you calling me dude and bro and pal? You’ve never called me those names before,” he rambled, “That’s what you call a friend, baby, not your boyfriend.”

“I know,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows as you looked up at him, and after getting another look at his handsome, yet so obviously confused face, you caved. “That’s what the prank is, babe. I call you names I’d call a friend.”

Drew’s brows furrowed, then he was looking around the bed for your phone, and when he glanced at the nightstand, he let out a loud groan. “Oh for fucks sake,” he grunted, rubbing his hands over his face as you laughed and moved to retrieve your phone. “I thought we were breaking up or something. Why do I keep falling for this shit?” 

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Guys are just so easy,” you answered, “And unless you cheat on me or something, I’m never breaking up with you.”

Drew dropped his hands to his sides as he joined you back on the bed. “And I’m never cheating on you,” he rasped, straddling your thighs as he placed his hands on your waist. “But how many more times are you going to do this to me? This one was fucked up.”

You laughed as you ended the recording, then gasped when you felt how hot his skin was. “Drew,” you say with wide eyes, “You’re, like…sweating.”

“I know I am,” he said, his fingers pushing up your shirt as his hands ran along the skin of your stomach. “I told you, I thought you were breaking up with me. I was panicking.” 

You smiled up at him, letting him take your phone from you and toss it onto the end of the bed. “I would never,” you promised, and Drew wrapped his fingers around your wrists, guiding your hands up to rest on his chest as he gazed down at you with an intense stare. 

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, and it was clear that the hunt for a movie to watch was now postponed. His eyes were even darker when he pulled away, his nose bumping gently against yours. “I love you.”

You whimpered quietly as you slid your hands up into his hair. “I love you too,” 

Then he was pressing himself against you completely, and soon enough, you were sweating too.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Princess & The Pilot

In which Lando Norris meets his childhood crush, who just happens to be an actual princess.

Warnings: none Pairing: Lando Norris x BritishPrincess!Reader Word Count: 3.5k or something

(quick note: running late for a meeting this morning but wanted to get this out. I'll update the tag list later tonight when/if I have time. Enjoy the new seriesssss!)

Master List

There must be a foreign power invading London. 

That is the only reason you can think that your assistant would be waking you up at 8am the morning after you spent nearly 12 hours entertaining Argentinian foreign dignitaries with your father yesterday. When you had tumbled into bed at 2am after the state dinner the previous night, the last words you had mumbled to Noelle were ‘please don’t wake me up before noon tomorrow.’ 

This was supposed to be your one day off after attending engagements with your parents four days in a row. 

“I’m so sorry, your highness.” Noelle whispers from where she stands at the foot of her bed. You immediately wonder if the palace groundskeepers would be willing to install a set of locks on the doors to your apartments that only you had the keys to. 

“Noelle, you’ve been my assistant for how many years now? You can call me by my first name.” You grumble from under the thick cream duvet that you had tugged over your head moments before. 

You glare at Noelle but immediately regret it when you see the anxious look on the older woman’s face. This wasn’t her choice, you realized. “What does my father want now?” 

Noelle worries at the corner of her lip before holding out her cell phone. “He’s been trying to reach you for an hour now. Insisted I come wake you up.” 

“He’s been unable to reach me because he swore up and down last night that I’d get today off from anything family related.” You complain, unable to keep the whine out of your voice.  

Tossing off the covers, you swing your legs over the side of your king sized bed before reaching out to take Noelle’s phone from her. You can see the active call ticking away with your father’s name on the caller ID ‘HRH King Edward’ 

“Good morning Papa.” You expertly adjust your tone, knowing that if your father hears one single hint of grouchiness in your voice you’ll never hear the end of it. “Everything okay?” 

“Your brother is sick.” His tone is brisk and you try to tell yourself he doesn’t mean to be short with you. He is literally the King of England after all. You’re sure he’s got a few things on his mind beyond worrying about waking his youngest child up at the crack of dawn. 

“Does he need me to bring him something? Soup? Medicine?” 

Your father scoffs on the other end of the line. “Don’t be silly.” He scolds. “My doctor has already been in to see him this morning. It’s just the flu, but he is contagious.” 

You’re silent on your end of the phone, knowing there is more to come as the news of your older brother being sick didn’t really warrant an early morning phone call. 

“I need you to take over the engagement he was going to do today.” 

It takes every ounce of royal training for you not to groan. You’d been attending events and engagements all weekend long, standing in for your mother who also was sick with the flu. “Can’t Mike do it?” 

Your youngest brother Michael was in his final year at Oxford before he’d go on to do the requisite military training but he was still able to engagements here and there. 

“Michael has exams this week, so he is unavailable.” 

You nearly suggest your sister-in-law Charlotte take her husbands place but know that would also be turned down as she’s been busy with her new well baby charity and juggling having two young children at home as well. The weight of the expectations of being the second eldest child of the King of England hangs heavy on your shoulders as the sunlight pours in through the curtains Noelle has drawn back. It’s a gorgeous spring day in London, which you know is rare this time of year. You had been planning on spending the day out on the private gardens that are tucked away in a hidden part of the palace not open to tourists reading a book in the quiet. 

“What’s the engagement then?” You sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that once again, your family duties were coming before your own personal agenda. 

You tried so hard not to be resentful of the weight of who you were and most of the time, you were fine with your station in life. You lived a very privileged, if not somewhat regimented and controlled, life as the only daughter to King Edward and Queen Matilde of the United Kingdom. Your parents, while busy with their own lives and duties, adored you and your two brothers, Sebastian and Michael. They had worked hard when you were younger to make sure that you and your siblings were raised as normally as possible, which hadn’t always been easy. 

“You’ll be going out to the Silverstone Circuit in Towcester to meet with some people from the McLaren Formula 1 team. They're the Duke of Dover Awards newest partner and their drivers are doing some laps the track with children from the local schools. They’d like to take you on the track too.” 

Your brother had started the Duke of Dover Awards when he had married Charlotte 10 years ago and had inherited the title as the heir to the throne. The foundation awarded hundreds of thousands of pounds each year to kids and teenagers that applied to be recipients of grants to improve their communities, start small businesses, and conduct scientific research. It was your brother’s brainchild and baby and you were shocked that Sebastian had agreed to allow anyone that wasn’t him to go near an event of theirs. 

Sighing, you stand and shrug on the silk robe that was hanging form the little hook next to your bed. You were certainly not getting a day off today, now were you? “Okay, sounds straight forward enough. Does Noelle have the details?” 

“Yes, Noelle has everything you’ll need. Thank you for helping, little dove.” 

Your heart squeezes as the nickname your father has used since you were a toddler. You knew he carried a heavy weight with the crown on his head and expected nothing but the best from himself, and by extension you and your siblings, at all times because of it. He meant well and loved you fiercely, you knew that but sometimes it got lost in the legacy of what it meant to be a Windsor. 

“Of course, Papa.” 

You hang up and hand the phone back to your assistant. “Papa says you have all the details. Could you have everything printed out so I can read it in the car. Towcester is quite far away, isn’t it?” 

“About an hour and a half, if traffic is good.” 

You nod, mind jumping into preparation mode. The timeline that had landed in your inbox while you had been on the phone with your father said you needed to be there a little after 1pm, which gave you enough time to get ready. “Can you call Tibby, give her the details and have her pull some outfits for me? I can do my own makeup and I don’t think I’ll need anything fancy for hair, yeah?” 

Noelle nods, eyes skimming her emails. “Your brother’s valet says he was planning on wearing jeans and a jumper, so it sounds casual. Natural makeup and a sporty ponytail, maybe?” 

“That’s fine, I can do that myself.” Sometimes it chafed at you how much had to go into your appearance. You could never really go out looking sloppy or unkempt because the bad press that it inevitably invited drove your mother crazy. If your father was preoccupied with the weight of his crown, your mother was preoccupied with the weight of what her image meant to millions of people. It was a difficult relationship to navigate and you didn’t always do a good job, so you tried to maintain at least the minimum appearance standards your mother requested just to appease her. 

Noelle snaps into action, calling Sebastian’s valet to get some more details on the people that will be present along with any other notes he had thought important. You pad towards your private bathroom to take a shower and get ready for what you assumed would be another routine royal engagement. 

And boy, how wrong you were. 

“Are you nervous?” Oscar mutters as he comes to lean against the counter in the garage next to where Lando stands, scrolling on his phone.

Lando looks up, confusion knitting his brows together. “Nervous for what?” 

As far as he knew, this was just going to be another routine event with some kids and the Duke of Dover, who he'd already met last year during the race at Silverstone. Nothing to be nervous about really.

“To meet the princess!” Oscar chuckles, knocking his shoulder into Lando's.

“Princess?" The crease on his forehead deepens even more. "I thought it was the Duke that was coming. Isn’t it his awards thing that we're partnering with?” 

Oscar shrugs. “Zak said the Duke is sick. His sister is coming instead. Apparently she just pulled in as well. Sophie is running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Something about not being prepared for her."  

Oh. A thick sense of anxiety settles in the pit of Lando's stomach. Oh fuck. This changed things. He certainly hadn't been nervous before but now he was, knowing that it was you that he'd be driving around the track instead of your brother.

Like most guys his age, Lando had grown up with photos of you taped to the back of his door and indulged in several...interesting and not very polite fantasies when he was in his teens. In fact, now that Lando thinks about it, you were probably his very first crush. You had been the first princess to be born into the Royal family in two generations and the press had fallen in love with you the day you were born, dubbing you the English Rose that was going to save the monarchy.

Once you reached your 18th birthday and debuted into society, taking your place beside your older brother and parents by working for the family full time while going to university to study international business, the country had fallen even more in love with you. Your family was well loved by the entirety of the Common Wealth but you? You were absolutely everyone's favorite Windsor by a country mile. And that included the British Formula One driver.

"You okay, mate?" Oscar's thick accent shakes Lando out of his day dream.

"Oh, yeah." Lando replies weakly, rubbing the palm of his hand over his jaw, glad he had shaved this morning and put a bit of extra care into his hair.

"Boys!" Sophie, McLaren's head of Public Relations, yells at the entrance of the garage, fists on her hips as she taps her toe glaring at the pair. "The princess is here and everyone is waiting on you."

"Coming." Lando mumbles, desperately trying to tamp down the nerves that are making his stomach do somersaults. This is like a teenage wet dream come true.

Just outside the garage is a group of people clustered around several McLaren sports cars waiting to get started. Lando can see Zak chatting with you from 50 meters away and he loses all ability to think straight when he sees you in person for the first time. You're dressed in dark wash jeans that hug your curves and, much to Lando's surprise, a papaya colored knit jumper. With your hair pulled back in a high ponytail, your delicate features on full display. He couldn't help thinking how much better you looked in real life compared to the glossy magazine photos he used to keep tacked up to his bedroom wall.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lando, Oscar, and Sophie approaching before Zak does but you don't allow the group to distract you from your conversation with McLaren's CEO. That kind of behavior would send your mother into a tailspin. She hadn't sent you off to boarding school at the age of 12 for nothing after all. But you can't help how your stomach twists when you lock eyes with the boy with the curly hair. A nervous ghost of a smile plays at the corner of his full lips, sending goosebumps exploding over your skin.

"Oh, there they are!" Zak finally notices the drivers and Sophie and moves to introduce everyone. Behind you, Noelle hovers, lying in wait to correct anyone who might break royal protocol when it comes to interacting with you. You desperately wish she would've let you come alone.

Introductions are made and you try your hardest to ignore the way your skin sparks when you shake hands with Lando. Zak explains how the afternoon is going to go and that Lando is going to take you around the track on a hot lap while Oscar and a few other reserve McLaren drivers take the kids out behind.

"Nervous, your highness?" Lando asks as he checks the chin strap on your crash helmet.

The way your stomach dips when he smiles at you has nothing to do with nerves.

"You're about to whip me around this race track at speeds that could kill me, I think you can call me by my first name, Lando." You tease, deflecting the real reason your palms are sweating.

Lando blushes, eyes falling to the ground. "I guess that's true. Just didn't want your lady in waiting to tackle me for committing some protocol crime, I guess."

The laugh that escapes you would send your mother into a complete fit it's so sudden and loud. "She does look like she's lying in wait, doesn't she?" Your eyes dart above Lando's shoulder where Noelle stands, eyes trained on you as if she's expecting someone to attack at any moment.

"She's just a little...protective." You say, voice going soft. "Last year we had a little incident where I was being stalked for several months. The guy thought we were engaged and he somehow managed to get around my protection officers and into my building at 3 in the morning. They caught him outside my door with duct tape, rope and a knife in his bag."

Your eyes go wide with horror as you realize what you've just said. No one in the public knew about that, your parents had insisted on keeping the investigation quiet. The man had been sent to a psychiatric facility with the blessing of his family and charges hadn't been filed in order to protect your privacy. You had no idea why you had just spilled one of your most closely kept secrets to a veritable stranger.

"Well then I'm glad she's here to watch over you." Lando's voice is quiet, like he knows you don't want others overhearing this conversation. "I'd hate to think of anything happening to such a pretty girl."

For several moments, the busy pitlane falls away a bit as Lando's hands remain on the straps of your helmet and he looks at you like he's known you for your entire life. You're used to people staring at you and being under the microscope but the way Lando looks at you makes you want to squirm in the most delicious way possible.

"Okay, you two!" Zak booms, shocking you out of the little bubble that had grown around you and Lando those few moments. "Lets get you out on the track. Lando, please remember this is a member of the royal family, I'd rather not have to leave the country if you injure her."

"What kind of knight in shining armor would I be if I hurt the princess in my charge?" Lando quips, aiming a wink your way before rounding the hood of the low slung papaya colored McLaren.

You can't help the way you snort in response to his flirting, it's so ridiculous but you also can't ignore the way your stomach twists in delight at the way Lando's tongue works around the word princess while he looks at you.

You had to be careful though. Despite Lando being famous and well off in his own right, you were even a step above that and life had taught you that even the most well connected and rich men saw you as the ultimate prize. Who wouldn't want to marry the only daughter to the King of England, even if they had billions. You can't buy a real royal pedigree. Not like the one you had, dating back generations on both sides of your family.

No, you couldn't allow yourself the luxury of lowered walls but you could allow yourself to indulge in a little innocent flirting, because that's all it would ever or could ever be with Lando Norris.

"Zak, can I file a workplace injury claim if I've gone deaf this afternoon from her screeching?" Lando complained as he held out a hand to help you out of the McLaren 45 minutes later.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! Princesses don't screech." You sniff, smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as you yank your hand out of his grasp the moment you're steady on your feet.

Lando snorts now, rolling his eyes, enjoying the color that flushes in high on your cheekbones. He was the one to make you blush like that and it sends a zing of arousal straight to his cock. While you had been in the car with Lando, before he had scared the daylights out of you, he'd been able to overcome the initial nerves of meeting his boyhood crush and had settled into a flirty conversation. The way you two bantered back and forth so naturally was new to Lando and kind of unnerving to him, but in a good way.

"I'm inclined to believe if the princess was driven to 'screech' that it was all your fault, Lando." Zak jokes with a shrug before turning to you. "Thank you so much for coming out this afternoon and filling in for your brother. We got some great shots of you guys on the track and before with everyone together."

You nod, smiling at the group that's now gathered. Beside you, Lando has wiggled his way between Noelle and yourself so he's settled in at your side. "Wonderful. I'm sure they'll be the perfect content you guys all need. Is there anything else you need from me today? Did all the kids get laps on the track and the merch bags?"

Sophie nods, "Yes ma'am, no one left empty handed."

You sigh internally knowing that the day is almost over. You can taste the freedom of the back seat of the Range Rover where you can finally let your mask down for a few extra moments. You loved days like this, busy and filled with lost of interaction with the public but it was also exhausting beyond measure. You knew you'd sleep well tonight, having attended events nearly every night for the past 9 days.

"Good, thank you." Your eyes find the McLaren CEO who stands across from you. "Zak, I assume we'll see you at the awards gala Saturday night?"

Zak nods, "Yes, Oscar and I will be there."

You can't help the bit of disappointment that blooms in your chest when he doesn't say Lando's name. You hate it and ignore it the best you can because it simply isn't acceptable. So instead you lean on your years of training and upbringing to hide your true feelings. "Lovely, I can't wait to see you both again."

As Lando watches your car pull away, he can't help but feel a little disappointed that your time together is up.

"What awards gala was she talking about? Why wasn't I invited? Lando practically whines, turning to Zak once the Range Rover is out of sight.

Zak chuckles "You were invited Norris and you turned it down because, and I quote, 'you don't do boring awards dinners that aren't written into your contract'."

Lando kicks at a rock with his sneaker, feeling a bit foolish. "Well, I guess I'm just going to have to make an exception for this one then."

Zak narrows his eyes, not liking where he thinks Lando's head is going. "Listen Norris, I know your personal life is none of my business."

"And you'd be right in that assesment, Zak." Lando responds cooly.

Zak holds his hand up, "But I'd be remiss if I didn't remind you that whatever I think is going on in your head about the woman that just left the track is probably a bad idea. A princess like her is not able to have a casual relationship like the ones your used to. Just..." Zak pauses, trying to put his advice in the best words possible. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Message recieved loud and clear, Zak." Lando mutters before turning and walking back towards the garages.

[plutoslastwords]

I love ur baby Norris fic smmmm

Can you do one where she is feeling super clingy and just dosent want to leave him alone whether she is just always wanting to be held or just living in his shadow and constantly following him.

koala time

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: baby norris doesn't get clingy often, but when she does, she really does

warnings: none!

w/c: 1.6k

a/n: sorry this is rushed and all over the place hahah, but hope you enjoy xx

~~~

For a three year old, you are relatively independent. If he had to guess, Lando would regretfully say that it is because he has to be away so often, so you have had to learn to cope with life without your daddy. Obviously you have babysitters and such when he can’t be there to look after you himself, but he knows that no one can properly fill the void of a missing parent.

It's not like you're already ready to live by yourself yet, but it’s the little things like knowing where the cup cupboard is, or where all of your clothes are so you can get yourself dressed in the morning - though you sometimes struggle with the fiddly buttons. In a way, it makes Lando sad, he should be the one doing these things for you, you’re just a baby, you shouldn’t have to do this all yourself.

Unfortunately, there’s not much he can do about it except shower you with attention whenever he gets the chance, making sure that you know just how much he loves you.

However, no matter how independent you can be, there are times where you just need your daddy.

Lando has dubbed it ‘koala time’, when you practically attach yourself to him, not letting him go anywhere or do anything without you, clinging to him like he’s about to disappear. It normally occurs when he’s just got back from a long trip away, and for the next few days you follow him around like a shadow, placing yourself in his lap every moment that you can, whether it is convenient or not.

At present, you’re on Lando’s private jet, along with a few other drivers whose names you haven’t been bothered to remember. The next race is in Japan, and luckily you have some time off from school for spring break, so naturally Lando is taking you along. You’ve never been to Japan, but Daddy has told you that it is very cool, and he’ll take you to lots of shops in Tokyo to buy you new toys, so you’re excited.

The flight from Monaco is long, you spend most of it asleep on a little makeshift bed that you have, and the rest of it immersed in some movie that Lando has got playing on your iPad. You’re not in any sort of clingy mood at the moment, so you’re perfectly happy to sit by yourself and watch your cartoons.

Finally, you arrive in Japan, Lando scooping you up from the plane and carrying you through the airport to the awaiting van that will take you both to the hotel.

“You excited, angel?” He coos at you as he places you on his lap in the car, your bags disregarded to the side.

You nod eagerly, everyone so far has been very nice to you and you are awaiting the moment you can get your hands on some new toys.

The drive to the hotel is fairly long, as Tokyo is so big. You’re only staying in Tokyo for a couple nights, to enjoy the city before travelling further south down to the Suzuka circuit. On the drive you quite contently sit on Lando’s lap, making small comments about what you can see outside the window, mainly just taking in your surroundings. 

When you finally arrive at the hotel, it is very grand, very befitting for a millionaire Formula 1 driver. You’re escorted to your suite, which has a grand king-sized bed for Lando, and a smaller twin bed for you, where a bunny plushie is sitting there waiting. (Lando had told them in advance about your love for the animal)

The excitement of the new room is almost enough to defeat the exhaustion that you are feeling, but eventually the long flight starts to catch up with you, and Lando knows you well enough to notice the first stages of collapse.

“Okay, baby, I think it’s bedtime now, yeah?” He picks you up from where you’re sitting on the bed, holding you on his hip whilst he looks through the suitcases to find you some pyjamas.

In response you try to protest, but the only sound that comes out is a yawn, and even at 3, you know that it is a losing battle. Instead, you opt to lean in closer to his hold, burying your face in the crook of his neck and falling asleep there. He smiles when he notices, softly changing your sleeping body into some pyjamas, and tucking you into your bed with your favourite teddies.

“Goodnight angel” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

The next morning you wake up as usual, you crawl into your daddy’s bed, snuggling up next to him to which he responds by wrapping you in his arms and falling back asleep. You’re having none of that, continually hitting him until he wakes up and gets you both ready to go down to breakfast.

It’s there that the jetlag hits. You’ve never been anywhere with this much of a time difference before. Well, you have, but you were a newborn, and newborns have no concept of time, newborns never sleep. Therefore, the jetlag hits you hard and fast, causing you to almost fall asleep in your half eaten waffle. 

Lando chuckles when he notices this, being an F1 driver, he’s basically become immune to jetlag, so it’s amusing to see his usually oh so energetic daughter completely collapse.

“You tired, baby?” He coos

“‘S early, daddy…” You mumble, eyelids threatening to close.

“It’s 10am, angel girl.” He chuckles at your drowsy state.

Throughout the day your jetlag doesn’t improve, you’re still very very tired. However, unlike most toddlers who have tiredness and grumpiness going hand in hand, your tiredness comes with a big dose of clinginess.

After breakfast you refuse to walk anywhere without Lando carrying you, burying your head into the crook of his neck, and your little hands gripping the collar of his shirt tightly. 

When you get to the place where Lando is meant to be meeting up with a few of his team members to discuss what’s going to be happening in the upcoming weekend you still refuse to let go, even after Lando sits down at the office table.

“Baby, do you wanna go sit over there for a bit whilst Daddy chats?” He asks softly, knowing you’re probably in a bit of a fragile mood.

You shake your head stubbornly at this, you want to stay with your daddy. You just grip onto him tighter. 

At some point in the meeting, you fall fast asleep, and a kind secretary takes you from Lando’s arms - with his permission - to go and lay you down on a nice comfy sofa for you to continue your nap.

When you wake up, you are appalled. Where is your daddy? You immediately sit up, ignoring the rush of exhaustion that is still somehow hanging on, no matter how much you’ve been sleeping. You toddle into the room where Lando is, seeing that he is just leaving, from another door, presumably to go and grab some lunch from the office canteen. Naturally, you follow close behind.

You trail behind him the rest of the way like a shadow. He doesn’t notice you as your legs aren't long enough to fully catch up. When he finally slows down a bit, you see your opportunity, running up to him and clinging onto his leg.

He jumps slightly. “Oh, baby, you gave me a fright, I thought you were having a nap, hm?” He scoops you up into his arms, holding you close.

“Want daddy.” You mumble, pulling at his curly hair. 

“We don’t pull hair, my love..” You pout at that, but stop, resting your head on his shoulder as he walks further into the lunch room. 

Throughout your stay in Tokyo the clinginess doesn’t get much better. Most notably is when he’s on a conference call with a brand back in England in the hotel room. He had put you to bed a couple hours before so wasn’t too worried about you interrupting. 

Obviously he had underestimated the power of a jet lagged toddler. 

You wake up unhappy, you’re still tired, you’ve been tired for days now, and you want your daddy. With a frown on your face you waddle into the room where he’s taking the call, standing next to his chair and holding your arms out, gesturing that you need to be held.

He looks at you with surprise, muting his mic, “Darling, you’re meant to be in bed…”

You don’t say anything in response, simply holding your arms out higher, pleading with your eyes for him to hold you. He knows he cannot resist once he sees that pleading look in your eyes, sighing he lifts you up, holding you on his lap for the rest of the call, not caring how unprofessional it might seem, any brand he works with should know that you’re his first priority, always.

After the call he puts you to bed, but you immediately crawl into his bed with him, grabbing at his arm and nestling your face into it like it’s a pillow. He sighs, knowing that there’s no way he’s winning this one.

He places a little kiss to the top of your head, “My little koala, daddy loves you.”

~~~

a/n: pls continue sending in requests about baby norris, i love writing her!!

[riaaaxoxo]

cw ~ minor nagireo, unprotected sex, cucking, spit, size kink, squirting

nagi seishiro isn’t one for leftovers or sharing a girl with his best friend, but when reo offers up his wife on a silver platter, he isn’t one to say no.

“go ahead, she’s all your’s.” reo muttered, seating himself in a chair just by the bed. any deal made with reo never came without strings attached, nagi knew that best of all. but who knew reo mikage got off on being a cuck?

nagi approached the king-sized mattress that presented you— spread out over the bed and nude, with a heavy breath. it’s honestly been a while since he’d last slept with a woman, and it felt as if he’d forgotten everything but which hole to put his dick.

he unzipped his jeans and pulled his boxers down just enough to spring out the heavy girth that was hidden in them. “ahah.. holy shit.. um— a..are you sure you’re gonna fit?” you laughed nervously, your heart beating anxiously in your chest.

“hm? whaddya mean?” nagi hummed, rubbing his tip up to your clit and down to the end of your cunt. “hmmgh.. i—i just mean that… you’re really big, nagi..” you replied breathily, trying to move your hips against his dick.

“oh.” nagi said— pausing for a second before he continued to gather your slick. “don’t worry. it’ll fit.” he simply replied, inserting his tip in experimentally before pulling it out again to keep up his tease.

your fingers gripped the silk sheets from his tip suddenly pushing in. it felt as if the force of gravity had suddenly pushed you down from the very weight of his dick.

reo sat silently in the corner, as if he wasn’t even there. he watched as his best friend teased his wife, ignoring the achingly painful bulge of his own cock.

“hey, nagi.” reo said, “that’s enough teasing. my girl’s wet enough, put it in already.” he commanded. nagi turned back to face reo, his expression was playful as he grinned, but his eyes were observant, watching his every move. nagi’s face was blank, as if he had been completely unaffected from this. even if all the blood that was rushing south said otherwise.

he nodded compliantly, “you got it, boss.” he murmured, turning back to watch as his annoyingly thick girth made its shape in you.

you yelped in pain, hands moving onto nagi’s abs and clawing your nails into his pecs. nagi groaned at your tightness; it felt as if you would tear his dick off if he wasn’t careful enough.

“hey, calm it down…” he muttered through his teeth, his middle and index fingers playing with your folds before clumsily finding your clit in the hopes that you’d loosen up.

you whimpered, reflexively spreading your legs further to make way for nagi’s size. “that’s it.. good job.” he sighed, finally relishing in the tightness. he moved both hands back to your hips and pressed his pelvis against your clit— as if he was trying to fit more of himself into you, all while he waited for you to finally adjust.

you writhed under nagi, feeling as if you were being stuffed to the brim; nothing in the world mattered anymore, not when heaven was already in this room.

your hips circled around nagi, and he took it as a sign that you were ready. he started off slowly, with deep thrusts that kissed your cervix, grinding against you before pulling back and forth once more.

nagi groaned, his eyes were locked in on the way your pussy sucked him in. the sinful squelch every time he pushed in, and the way your tiny cunt stretched around the thick base, and locked around his pink tip, only allowing him to pull out till that point. he was completely enamored with all of it, almost entirely ignoring your loud moans and whimpers.

without even realizing it, he had started railing you— hard. his hands pulled you up and lifted your hips to meet his dick, he was moving you body back and forth as he impaled your tiny hole. the silk sheets that had been pressed and ironed by the maids were completely ruined and crinkled as your body moved along them.

nagi collected a glob of spit and let it drop from his lips to where your bodies were attached. he watched as his spit frothed in bubbles around his dick, making his thrusts smoother.

“nagi! hmffgh!” you cried out, legs waving helplessly in the air as nagi used you like a sex doll. “‘m gonna— nngh.. g..gonna cum! hnf!!” you whimpered, trying to find a way to ground yourself to earth. when suddenly, your hand was taken by reo, who you hadn’t noticed found his way to the bed in the midst of your pleasure.

“yeah? mmgh..” nagi hummed, “go on.. jus’ keep bein’ good ‘nd take it..” he rasped, his throat dry from how silent he’d been.

“hold on.” reo said, laying a palm to your abdomen. he pressed down every time nagi thrusted in, pushing against the bulge on your tummy. “alright, go ahead, honey.”

you squirmed under them, damned be reo and his knowledge of your body all to hell! each thrust just felt more and more intense with how you could feel every edge and vein on nagi’s cock.

and by reo and nagi’s command, you gushed all over him, squirting your essence all over the silk sheets, as well as nagi’s abdomen and the inside of your thighs.

nagi moaned, your insides being stained in white as they tried to force nagi out. his thighs shook, knees buckling under him as he tried to stay sane. but he couldn’t as endless spurts of cum filled your womb, pressing his hips in further, and ensuring that his cum seeps into every bit of your guts that needs filling.

his eyes met reo’s; his eyes were sharp, as if he was telling nagi his time was up. “that was good, nagi. i should show you though just how dirty she can be. you would not believe the orgasms i’ve gotten out of this pretty thing..” reo laughed. nagi reluctantly pulled out— his dick soaked and still semi-hard, and sat down beside your fucked out body, trying to catch his breath.

reo made quick work of his pants and pulled out his erection in almost zero seconds flat. he made his way between your legs and hovered over you to whisper in your ear, “whaddya think, honey? can you take one more ‘nd give nagi a show?” he hummed, offering it up to you as if you had a choice.

but then again, you couldn’t really bring yourself to say no anyways. not when reo was the one who was asking.

[st4rfckerz]

joel just wants you to go to sleep.

Joel hadn’t planned on taking you with him when he fled the last city. Hell, he barely had a plan for himself, let alone anyone else. He’d meant to slip out quietly, same as always—no ties, no mess. But when it came down to it, and you were standing along the side of the road, looking half-lost and way too stubborn for your own good, he couldn’t just leave you there. As much as he told himself it wasn’t his problem, that you’d slow him down or get yourself killed, something about walking away didn’t sit right. So now here you were—stuck with him, and he was just as thrilled about it as you’d expect.

Night fell fast, and with it came the kind of quiet that made Joel uneasy. He found a run-down motel off the main road—vacant, dusty, and barely holding itself together, but it was shelter. The room only had one bed, a king-sized relic with sunken springs and stale sheets, but it was better than the floor. Joel didn’t say much, just dropped his pack by the door and lay down without complaint. You followed suit, careful to leave a respectful amount of space between you, not too close but not miles apart either. It wasn’t cozy; it was practical. Just two people trying to get through the night.

Everything was fine—silent, still, until the heat started pooling low in your stomach, spreading like wildfire through your limbs. It hit fast and hard, unsettling and unfamiliar, and suddenly the bed felt too warm, the air too thick. You shifted once, trying to get comfortable. Then again. And again. No matter how you moved, the restlessness only grew, a tight, buzzing energy under your skin that wouldn’t settle. You tried to be quiet about it, tried not to draw attention, but your body had other plans

Joel let out a low, tired sigh, the kind that said he’d been trying to ignore it for as long as he could. Then he turned toward you, voice rough and laced with irritation. “What’re you doin’?” he muttered.

You froze for a second, caught in the middle of another restless shift. “I don’t know,” you kept your voice low. “Can’t get comfortable I guess.” You stared up at the ceiling, hoping that was enough of an answer, hoping he wouldn’t press further—even though you could feel his eyes still on you in the dark.

“You guess?” he echoed, the words thick with skepticism. You didn’t say anything in response, the restlessness still bubbling inside you, but the words just didn’t feel right.

Joel let out another frustrated sigh, rubbing his face with one hand. “Just…go to sleep,” he muttered, clearly done with the whole thing. “You’re not gonna get any rest if you keep at it.” He turned away from you, pulling the blanket up higher, as if to shut down the conversation for good.

Time dragged on, the silence of the room only broken by the occasional creak of the motel’s old walls. But that annoying buzzing feeling didn’t leave. It was still there, pulsing beneath your skin, spreading relentlessly. You tried to ignore it, to force yourself to sleep, but the more you fought it, the worse it got.

You couldn’t take it anymore, so you decided to take care of it. Unbeknownst to Joel, you began to slowly, cautiously slip a hand down the front of your pants, your heart starting to race as your fingers brushed against the growing heat between your legs. You bit your lip to stifle a soft gasp, not wanting to disturb Joel again.

It was all Joel’s fault. He had no idea, of course, but everything about him made it impossible to stay calm. The way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, or the deep, gravelly tone of his voice when he spoke; it did things to you that you couldn’t shake.

Your breathing grew heavier and more labored as you began to work on your clit, your fingers working with increasing urgency between your legs. Then, out of nowhere, the lamp snapped on, flooding the room with harsh, orange light. Joel’s voice came out concerned, almost frantic.

“Hey, hey what’s the pro-”

But as he turned toward you, his gaze fell, and for a moment, his words caught in his throat. He froze, seeing your hand, hidden beneath your pants. A silence stretched between you two, thick and tense, as the realization hit him. Your heart skipped a beat, panic rising in your chest as you quickly yanked your hand out from under your underwear, eyes wide.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, face flushing hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean- it’s not-” The words tumbled out in a flurry, but they didn’t make much sense. All you could focus on was the sudden weight of the moment, the heat in your cheeks, and how you just wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

Joel blinked, clearly caught off guard, but then he let out a quiet breath and raised his hands slightly, palms out. “I-it’s okay,” he said, his voice low, steady, trying to calm you down. “You don’t gotta apologize.” He didn’t move closer, didn’t look away either, just kept his tone even. “Wasn’t tryin’ to scare you or nothin’. I just thought…somethin’ was wrong.”

You just stared at him, like a deer caught in headlights. You didn’t say anything, just looked at him like you were waiting for him to scold you, or worse, get up and leave.

Joel let out a long, tired sigh, dragging a hand down his face. He glanced over at you again, something unreadable in his expression. “Alright,” he muttered, voice low. “How ‘bout this—you let me help, and then maybe you’ll finally get some sleep, okay?”

You hesitated for a moment, heart pounding, eyes still locked on his. Then, slowly, you gave a small nod, unsure but willing, trusting him more than you trusted whatever was happening inside you.

Joel watched you for a second longer, then gave a short nod of his own. “Lie back.” His tone was steady—firm, but not unkind as he shifted slightly, waiting for you to move. Joel's calloused fingers grasped the waistband of your pants, his touch sending a shiver up your spine as he slowly, methodically peeled the fabric down your legs. He took his time, his eyes never leaving your face, watching as your breathing grew more ragged with each inch of skin he revealed. As the pants slid past your knees and pooled around your ankles, Joel paused, his gaze fell upon the prominent wet spot darkening the fabric of your underwear. Joel's eyes widened slightly. “Jesus Christ,” his voice a low, almost reverent whisper.

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly feeling tight as he drank in the sight before him. The lamp light cast a warm glow across your exposed skin, highlighting the way your chest rose and fell with each shaky breath you took. A low, almost inaudible groan rumbled in Joel's chest as he reached out with a tentative hand, his thumb brushing against the damp fabric covering your throbbing cunt. He could feel the heat radiating through the thin material, could sense the way your body shuddered slightly at his touch. Slowly, deliberately, Joel watched with hooded eyes as he worked the damp spot, his thumb gradually soaking through the fabric.

“S’that where you need me?” Joel asked, his voice just barely above a whisper, yet it seemed to echo in the charged silence of the room.

Joel's eyes darkened as your breathy “Yes” floated through his ears. With that, he tugged your panties to the side. The cool air of the room kissed your slick, heated skin, making you gasp. Joel's eyes locked onto your exposed cunt, taking in the glistening, swollen lips and the way your entrance subtly fluttered eagerly. He couldn't resist the urge to run a single finger through the slick, gathering the wetness that clung to your folds.

Unable to hold back any longer, Joel pressed a single thick finger into your pussy. He groaned at the way your walls clenched around the intrusion, drawing him in deeper. Slowly, he began to pump his finger in and out, eventually adding another.

“Joel…” you whined as Joel's fingers worked themselves inside you, your hips instinctively bucking up to try and find something more.

“Shh, I know, I know,” Joel rumbled, his deep voice sending vibrations through your body. His big hand rested heavily on your hip, this thumb gently stroking your skin. Joel's fingers pumped faster, plunging deeper into your soaked, clenching cunt.

Suddenly, Joel's fingers curled just right, brushing against a spot that made you arch off the bed with a sharp cry. Your inner muscles clamped down around him like a vice, fluttering wildly.

“S’that the spot? Yeah?” Joel presses you with a slick grin plastered across his face. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, each exhale punctuated by a breathy moan that grew louder and more desperate with each passing second. “Yeah I know it is.”

With a final, keening cry of Joel's name, you came undone, your body convulsing as you cum all over his fingers.

As you floated down from the heights of your intense orgasm, Joel's hand gently brushed the sweat-dampened curls from your face. “There you go,” Joel murmured, his deep voice a low, soothing rumble. He brushed a stray tear from the corner of your eye with the pad of his thumb, the gesture surprisingly gentle.

“Now get some sleep.”

Your body felt lighter, your mind quiet for the first time that night. You didn’t say anything—didn’t need to. You just let your eyes slip closed as the calm finally took hold.

[breakmeoff]

goddess of the desert

featuring: bang chan x fem!reader warnings: swearing, SMUT: unprotected p in v, creampie. MDNI, 18+ only* word count: 2.1k (i swear one of these days i'll learn how to write an actual drabble lol) synopsis: you come out to the states to surprise chan with a short three day vacation to a remote airbnb in the secluded beauty of joshua tree. the stunning desert landscape relaxes you both enough to enjoy the great outdoors, and each other. note: this is part of the Larie's Libations 200 Followers Celebration. this was a request by my lovely anon reader🙈, whose selection is listed below. for story telling purposes we're going to pretend this was set in the spring and the weather wasn't blazing hot. thank you for reading!

LARIE'S LIBATIONS - Bourbon Orange Crush [Wine] — Bang Chan [Cranberry Juice] — Vacation [Citrus Rind] — Kinks (creampie)

Masterlist

Orchestrating this little surprise trip for Chan had been difficult.  That man was always in control and strict to his schedules, so when his manager told him not to schedule anything for three days between tour stops in L.A. and Arlington, Chan began asking questions.  And per your explicit instruction, his manager told him nothing.

Finally, when you showed up to the second show in L.A., things started to make sense and he stopped fighting it. The day after the concert, you picked up your rental vehicle and drove the three and a half hours to Joshua Tree where you had rented a secluded airbnb in the desert, just for the two of you.

Admittedly, Chan was awful about taking time for himself and forcing himself to relax.  Once you had assured him you’d get him back to civilization and the tour within three days before the next show in Texas, he finally relented and exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

After arriving at the private home down the long dirt drive, the two of you unpacked your groceries and belongings, and Chan went to take a much needed nap.  You on the other hand had eyed the above ground hot tub just outside with an uninterrupted view of the desert. 

About two hours later, Chan awoke alone sprawled out on the king sized bed, peering out the floor to ceiling windows which faced the back.  He pushed himself up sleepily and yawned, watching you climb out of the hot tub and dry yourself off with a large serape patterned towel.

Lord, he’d never get tired of seeing you in a bikini and unaware of how stunning you were.  

With a tired smile, he shifted to push himself off of the bed and in a standing position when he caught you out of the corner of his eye walking towards the outdoor shower just down the path. It wasn’t just your walking that made him pause - it was the way you removed your string bikini, draping them over the makeshift wooden ‘privacy’ fence along with the towel.

Walking over towards the window, he was transfixed, unable to take his eyes off of the scene - the goddess-like creature, baring it all under the rainfall showerhead, immersed in the beauty of the barren landscape surrounding them.  His cock twitched the longer he watched you, swelling under the confines of his sweatpants.

Slipping on a pair of slides, Chan made his way outside quietly and down the path towards the shower.  His movements were methodical and slow, like a bobcat hunting its prey.  Finally approaching the pathetic excuse for a wall, he reached for your towel just as you turned the faucet off and turned around to see him.  

Jumping in surprise, you laughed, pressing your hand to your chest.  “God, you scared me…” 

“Sorry Baby.”  Holding the towel open for you, he tilted his head towards it, inviting you into the warmth of the fabric.  “You looked like you might need a hand,” he teased suggestively, obviously dragging his eyes up and down your naked body. 

Smirking at him, you took the few extra steps towards him and let him wrap the towel around your damp, nude frame.  “Oh, just being a sweetheart and wanting to help me out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Sure… something like that,” he whispered near your ear, kissing your temple as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, ignoring the way your wet hair was now saturating his shirt.  “Let’s go dry you off on the chaise over there,” Chan said, nodding over towards the teak, cushioned lounge chairs just on the other side of the yard, facing out towards the desert.

The heat of the day had finally dissipated and the sun was starting to sink beyond the horizon, swathing the cacti and wild bushes in dark silhouettes.  Letting Chan lead the way, you walked towards the outdoor furniture and after he seated himself first, he pulled you into his lap, right between his legs and with your back against him.

“Thank you for this,” he whispered against your ear, placing a series of soft kisses against the side of your neck once you were settled against him - arms still wrapped around you and the plush towel protecting you from the elements.  “It’s nice to be somewhere quiet, alone.  With just you.”

Placing your hands on his arms, you began rubbing your palms up and down the expanse of them as you smiled.  “I figured you could use a little break.  And maybe some TLC.”

“TLC huh,” he mused, pulling back a little so he could look down to your face.  

Tipping your head back slightly, you turned to make eye contact with him.  “If you’re lucky.”  

Huffing a laugh, he gently tugged the top of your towel down, pretending as if he was going to expose one of your breasts.  “Bold of you to tease wearing nothing but a flimsy towel…” 

Sitting up straighter, you held onto the towel tighter before you shifted your position, perching yourself fully upon his lap and now facing him.  With your legs straddling either side of him, and your arms draped lazily around his shoulders, you gave your hips a slow roll over the front of his sweatpants.  “Guess I should just stop teasing then…” you mumbled, leaning down to press your soft lips against his, melting against him in a gentle, though heated, open mouthed kiss.

Chan groaned against your lips, one of his hands finding the back of your head, cradling it as he tilted his face to further deepen your liplock as the other met your hip, gripping through the fabric of the towel as he guided your exposed core to the soft cotton of his clothed cock below.

“Careful…” he mumbled against your mouth, “we are outside afterall.  Someone might see.”

You laughed gently, pressing your hips harder against him.  “Who is gonna see us?  The javelina?”  With that, you let the towel fall from your body, exposing yourself fully to him and the elements.

Chris’ hooded eyes raked over your figure once before he cursed lowly under his breath, and snaked a hand between your bodies to brush his fingers against your soaked entrance.  “Fuck… already ready for me, Baby?”

Whimpering softly at his gentle touch, you nodded your head and breathed a reply.  “Always…” 

Dropping your hand to his waist, you lifted yourself high enough to tug his sweatpants and boxers down low enough for his thick, veiny cock to spring free.  Your lithe fingertips gripped the base of him, eliciting a low moan from Chris’ lips as he watched you pump your hand up and down his length a few times.  “I need you…” he murmured, nearly desperately.

Guiding the velvety head of his length towards your entrance, you finally lowered yourself back down onto his lap, savoring the intense sensation of him filling you so entirely.  Both of your lips parted in an exhale once he was bottomed out inside of you, and your hands moved back to his shoulders, giving yourself the leverage to slowly move up and down his hardened arousal.

“Shit…” Chris whispered, watching you maneuver your body above him, a hand gripping one of your breasts as the other fell back to your hip, gripping his digits into your flesh. 

Leaning forward, he wrapped his lips around your pert nipple of your other breast, sucking softly against your heated flesh.  Humming a sigh, you slowly began to increase your motions on top of him, tipping your head back and relishing in the feeling of his mouth against your skin.

Chan flicked the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bud before gently nipping at it and tugging the pebbled flesh between his teeth, causing a low moan to come from you.  Chris squinted his eyes closed as you tightened your walls around him, panting against your skin and digging his fingertips further into the flesh of your hip.

Dropping his hand from your other breast, his lips dotted a line of small kisses against your sternum until they wrapped around your opposite nipple, giving it the same worshipping attention as the other.

“Fuck, babygirl… you feel so fucking good,” he moaned, pressing his face against the curve of your breast as he pulled you tighter against himself.  Your speed started to increase, and switched from an up and down motion to swirling your hips in a figure eight.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, arm wrapped tightly around him as you felt yourself clench around him buried deep inside of you.  “I’m close, so close.”

With both hands tightly gripping your waist, Chan anchored his feet on either side of the chair and slipped down just enough to give himself leverage to start fucking up into you from below.  “Give it to me,” he grunted, fingers digging in tight enough to leave bruises.  “Cum for me, all over me baby…” 

Your breathing was becoming more erratic, and you tipped your head forward, locking your eyes onto his as your moans became louder.  “More Channie, more, please…” you begged, breathily, eyebrows knit together as you felt your body start to tense up in his grasp.

“Take it, take it all,” he growled, slamming his hips up into you, mesmerized by the beauty of your blissful facial expression and the way your tits moved above his face.  “Let go, let go now.”

A silent moan slipped from your lips as the tension inside you finally snapped, and your entire body tightened with your release.  Toes curling, fingers digging into the fabric of his tshirt, and eyes hazily focused on his, Chris stuttered his hips with the feeling of you clench so tightly around him and the visual of you falling apart above him.

“F-fuuuuuuck,” he groaned through gritted teeth, keeping your hips grounded down on top of him as he spilled himself inside of your warmth.  “Can’t… can’t stop…” he growled, pressing his forehead against your chest as spurt after spurt erupted inside of you, his hips sporadically bucking underneath you. 

Finally, both of your bodies stilled and you collapsed against him.  Shifting his hands from your hips, one hand returning to the back of your head and the other splaying fully against your back, he rubbed your skin soothingly as you both tried to calm your heavy breathing.  

With a small laugh, you murmured “I think we made a mess… I can feel it.  Everywhere.”  With a low, appreciative growl, Chan sat up with you still around him and shifted to lay you back against the chaise cushion at the foot of the lounge in front of him.  

Now with you laying back in front of him, he looked down to where your bodies met, a thick, creamy white ring encasing his cock as he pulled out of your pussy.  “Look at that…” he cooed, one hand gripping the base of himself, the tip of him still resting just inside your flushed walls.  “Fuck, look at you… all covered in me.”  

Bringing a hand to your face with a small blush, Chan reached up to pull your hand away with a devilish grin, and with his hand wrapped around your wrist, he brought your fingers down to the mess between you.  “Feel it, look what you made me do baby…” 

Leaning up a little, you glanced down to where he had led your hand, your fingertips now coated in the stickiness that was coming out of you. 

Finally pulling himself out of you completely, he smirked as his own fingers reached down to your pussy and gently pushed some of his seed back into your still twitching inner walls.  “Can’t let any of that go to waste,” he mumbled, still mesmerized by the work of art he’d created between your legs.

Reaching for the towel with a cheeky smile on your face, you took note of the way he looked at you in awe.

Just then, you both froze at the eerie, unmistakable howl of a coyote not too far off in the distance.  Chan lifted his eyes to yours and he paused for a second.  “...maybe we should go inside and clean up,” a look of concern now spreading over his features.

“Might be a good idea,” you agreed, shifting to sit up as he tucked himself back into his pants.  With a renewed sense of urgency, Chan grabbed the towel from you, and quickly swept you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style swiftly into the house as you giggled, relaxed and happy in his protective embrace.

my tags: @angel-writes-here @idkimobsessed @queenofdumbfuckery @mfcherry @downingmorphine @pixie-felix @d3kstar @lveegsoi @ebnabi @nebugalaxy @babystay724 @mmarusa @imagine-all-the-imagines @erisuna @beabidoobee @hanniesbubuwife @bbykaixx @riri53 @jinniesgirl @alx-wyjsr @skzswife @hwangjoanna @stephanieeeyang @minnysproutgriffinteddy @jqtsblyth @magicshuhua @loveesiren @szonyix6277 @seungttttop @moontabi

[logansdoll]

heat

part two of "cottontail"

CW: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, heavily suggestive, profanity, bunny mutation + spring = fun times, girl imma do my best, this took forever, might be a little long, etc.

As much as he hated to admit it, Logan was worried about you.

In his two-hundred years of living, he had never met someone as hot-headed and brash as you—and that was saying something. But as your you-appointed new best pal, he resigned himself to making sure you didn't piss off the wrong people.

Though it was a nice change of role, seeing as he wasn't the loose canon for once, he couldn't help but begin to grow significantly concerned for your safety.

It wasn't that you were a bad person, far from it, in fact.

Always greeting him with a sweet mornin', Logan!

Always checking up on him after missions.

Always inviting him to "sparring sessions", which would inevitably turn into you two striking up conversation about anything and everything under the sun.

Not to mention you were a humongous flirt—Jean called it being "overly friendly".

She noted that you didn't flirt with any other guys like you did him.

You always gave him those cheeky smiles that seemed to irk him to no end, and put that flirty lilt in your voice when you spoke. Not to mention the constant compliments, which would stick with him for days, sometimes weeks.

But that all stopped about a week ago.

After a day of you acting incredibly off—no jokes, no laughter, little talking—Ororo said you suddenly came down with a "spring cold", but that you'd be up and at 'em soon.

Well, soon hadn't come yet, and Logan hadn't heard anything from you in days.

A spring cold couldn't last this long...

Was it the flu? Was it something else?

And why did everyone else seem so unbothered by it?

These thoughts swam in his head every time he passed your locked door.

Until he finally had enough.

The night everyone went out for a field trip to the county fair, Logan stayed back, opting to visit your quarters with a few choice words, and a container of chicken noodle soup.

When he reached your door, he gave it a soft rap.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

Only after a third—more aggressive—knock, did you finally answer.

"Yeah?" you called, your voice low and croaky.

He'd never heard you sound so defeated, and almost... pained.

It made something pang in his chest.

"That must be some cold," he quipped, attempting to play off the feeling with humor.

"Logan?" you asked, sounding shocked. "What are you... What do you want?"

"I just came to give you some soup. Jean told me it's good," he answered, glancing down at the bag in his hand. "S'been a while since I've heard from you."

He waited for a response, but when you never gave one, he began to feel stupid.

This was a mistake.

"Look, I can just leave it outside the door if you don't wanna—"

"No," you interrupted, still sounding strained. "You can come in. Just leave it on my dresser."

A little confused by your tone, he entered nonetheless, boots clicking against the hardwood.

And what he found was concerning.

Your room was a mess—furniture askew, clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor, a rumpled mess of sheets on the bed.

The smell in the air was thick with sweat and something else. He looked toward the king-sized bed where a heap sat hunched underneath the sheets

"(y/n)?" Logan called, brows furrowed with confusion and worry as he placed the bag on the dresser.

"Don't come over here!"

You sounded so distressed, in such discomfort.

What's going on?

Why did you sound like you were in trouble?

Ignoring your warning, he slowly stalked closer to the bed, taking slow, tentative steps—now able to hear your soft whimpers and grunts of pain.

"(y/n)?" he questioned, firmly.

You stirred, reacting to his voice, breathing raggedly as if you couldn't get any air in your lungs.

"(y/n), what the hell is going on?" he demanded. "Whatever it is, I can help."

But you turned away, the sheets shifting with you.

"You can't," you whined, "You can't."

Patience running thin, Logan stormed over and snatched the sheets off of you. And there, under the covers, he saw you with his own two eyes.

You were curled into yourself, tail significantly fluffier than he remembered, and ears droopier than he'd ever seen.

Through your thin tank top, he could see your nipples were hard and perky, the shorts you were wearing barely covering your ass cheeks.

'Goddamn...'

When you looked at him, your face flushed red, pupils dilated beyond belief as you covered your face with embarrassment.

You trembled in your skin, tail twitching with discomfort and unease.

"I told you not to come over here," you panted, curling further into yourself. "Didn't want you to see me like this..."

You winced, squeezing your thighs together tight, looking to be in complete agony.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm in heat," you sighed, the cat pretty much out of the bag. "S'cause of my mutation. I can do everything a rabbit can, and go through everything a rabbit goes through. No matter how fucking stupid."

You wiped the sweat off your forehead, your curly hair soaked in it.

"S'why I've been hiding," you explained. "I've been tryna get through this, but I just... can't!"

Now he understood.

Your absence, your uneasiness, the smell of something in the air.

You were horny.

"How long's it last?" Logan curiously asked.

"Depends. Could be a week, could be a month..."

"A month?" he stated, surprised. "Are you in pain?"

Your face screwed tight, triggering something in his core.

"Yes," you groaned, hugging yourself closer.

You looked away from him, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pained him.

He had to help.

"What can I do?" he suggested.

You turned to him, eyes widening. "What?" you asked. "What do you—"

"I wanna help you, cottontail," he cut in, already kicking off his boots and taking off his leather jacket to reveal his sexy, white wife-beater. "So tell me what I gotta do."

You watched him, looking completely stunned and mortified, but your pussy throbbed at the sight of his outfit.

"No, no, Logan," you protested. "Y-You can't... you don't need to do this."

But he stood firm in his decision, refusing to leave you.

"I know I don't need to," he firmly responded. "I can't let you go on like this."

"It's okay..." you assured. "It'll probably be done by the end of the week. You don't—"

Before you could even finish, his hand grabbed your face, pulling you close and squeezing your cheeks, his tone demanding.

"Don't protest. Don't argue. Don't push me away... Just let me take care of you, alright?"

His gorgeous brown eyes, filled with the promises of safety and acceptance, bore into yours.

How could you deny him?

"Okay," you caved, leaning into his touch.

"Good girl," he cracked a smile, lips suddenly swooping yours up in a firm kiss.

You let out a soft, eager moan as he scooped you up in his arms, the man letting out a quiet chuckle when you squeaked, your feet dangling off the ground.

While still kissing you, he sat himself down on the bed and plopped you in his lap. His soft lips and tongue made you squirm in his lap, brushing yourself against his quickly hardening cock in his jeans.

"Can I touch your ears?" he whispered, breathless. "'N' your tail?"

Gently, his hand moved down to your ass, caressing your cotton tail. Your toes curled, your body tingling from the sensation.

"Y-Yes," you shakily replied. "Go ahead."

And when his fingers began to lightly brush and stroke your bunny ear from base to tip, you nearly had a full body orgasm, your pussy growing wetter with each pass.

"Fuck..." you gasped. "Yes, just like that..."

Logan smirked as he watched your face contort in pleasure, his ego growing with each whimper.

"Like that?" he asked, teasingly, his cock throbbing at the sound of your pitiful whine in response.

Over these past few months, he'd had countless dreams about having you just like this. And now that he was, he could say with certainty that it was far better than any fantasy.

Gently, one of his big hands slid down between your thighs to pet your pussy through your panties, while the other continued to stroke your ears.

Your mouth fell agape, pleasure coursing through you.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, tilting your head back as his fingers ghosted over your clit.

You began to shamelessly grind your pussy into his fingers, turning Logan on even more.

"Needy little thing..." he chuckled, amused. "Adorable."

Under his firm gaze and insistent fingers, you nearly came apart at the seams. But before you could, he pulled away, scooping you up with one arm, much to your surprise and arousal, and sliding himself further down the bed.

With a grin, he dropped his head into the pillows, shifting and forcing you to hover over his face.

"M'gonna taste you, now," he stated, as if it was a fact.

You whined in response, moving to grab the headboard as he pulled your panties to the side, giving your pussy a quick peck before completely dropping you on top of him.

"Logan!" you half-moaned, half-screamed, eyes blown wide with pleasure.

You tried to brace yourself, but it wasn't long before he made you a writhing, whimpering, whining mess.

"Ah, Lo, yes!" you cried. "Oh, fuck! Right fuckin' there! Right fuckin' there!"

You were loud and vocal, much to his enjoyment.

He was having the time of his life, massaging your ass and sucking your wet pussy, your juices dripping down his chin.

He even groaned and grunted into your pussy about how good you tasted, only making you wetter at seeing such a stoic man lose his shit over you.

"You want a finger, baby?" he growled, voice slightly muffled. "Talk to me. Tell me what chu want."

"Please," you whimpered. "Fuck me, Logan! Make me come!"

Logan smiled, slowly inserting one of his thick fingers into your hole while his lips gently sucked on your clit.

You nearly screamed, bawling at the pleasure.

"Oh, my God!" you sobbed. "Shit, Logan, I'm gonna... I'm gonna.."

Your orgasm slammed into you without a second thought, drawing a string of slutty moans out as you came all over Logan's tongue.

"That's my good girl," he smirked into your pussy. "So fuckin' good f'me."

Your orgasm was so strong that you began to tremble, the aftershocks taking over your body.

The release helped with the pain... but it still wasn't enough.

You needed more.

Suddenly, he took hold of your chin, staring into your eyes as if he could peer right into your head.

"Do you want more?" he asked, cockily.

Slowly, you nodded, tears pricking your eyes at how much to needed this.

"Yes, Logan," you pleaded, your arousal making you bold and unashamed in your need to be fucked. "Please give it to me. I don't care how you take me. Just please..."

That was all he needed to hear.

He gave you exactly what you wanted and more. The man fucked you, and he fucked you good. He gave your little body everything it needed to knock out those horny thoughts and relieve you of your heat.

In almost every position, too.

He fucked you in missionary while standing up, his hips pistoning into yours while your feet dangled in the air, his hands pinning your thighs apart and making you take each deep, long, slow stroke that had you seeing stars and frantically rubbing your clit watching his handsome face contort in pleasure. 

He fucked you while standing up, your little body bouncing in his arms as you fucked you up and down on his cock, your arms wrapped tight around his neck, your tits pressed flush against his pecs, and your lips locked with his in a passionate, sloppy, wet kiss. 

He fucked you on your side, his big body curled around yours and his cock nestled between your ass cheeks before sliding inside you again, your leg hiked up to get deeper. 

He fucked you on all fours, using your ears to pull you back on his cock, your back arched and ass stinging from random spanks while he pounded into the deep, wet heat of your pussy that squeezed and griped him for dear life. When you tried to rub your clit, he smacked it away and rubbed your pussy for you.

“Uh-uh,” he growled. “No touching what’s mine. All you need to do is cum. Can my little bunny do that?” 

You didn't even answer—you couldn't. But your loud moans and sobs bouncing off of your walls are all the answers Logan needs as he fucked you faster, harder, making your clit sing and pleasure zip through you.

When you felt your last orgasm of the night zip through you, you let out a broken whimper and came all over Logan's cock. 

Triggered by your orgasm and sweet little sounds, Logan gripped you tighter and pounded into you without mercy, until he finally released, too.

“Oh, fuck!” he gasped, his loud groans and grunts echoing throughout the room, triggering another mini-orgasm that made your pussy quiver and drip down your thighs. 

Logan came deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. He even had enough to give you on your ass, pulling out to spray your perfect cheeks with more of his seed, pumping his cock furiously behind you.

A smile stretched across your face as the aftershocks began, practically melting into the sheets. 

You were sweaty, winded, soaked, tired, and covered in cum...but you’d never been more satisfied or happier in your life.

Logan finally settled down beside you, turning you over to face him. He gave you a small smile, his face hot with stray hairs sticking to his forehead. 

“Better now?” he murmured, gently stroking down your back.

You wordlessly nodded, a small, tired hum leaving your lips. 

“Good,” he nodded, pressing a kiss into your hair. “Get some rest.”

And just like that, you were out like a light, softly snoring into his chest, your body curled into his side.

You couldn't wait for next spring...

[daylighted]

WEDDING BELLS & 5-STAR HOTELS ─ dean winchester!

. . . or, the first time in a long time dean's stayed in a hotel room without mysterious stains in the carpet or on the sheets.

no warnings <3 just fluff! and newlywed cutesie shit!

dean was so fucking glad you talked him out of a vegas wedding.

the thought of being married by a guy masquerading as elvis presley still sounded funny as shit to him, but he did agree with the sentiment that you deserved this. the grand wedding arch, strung with flowers, the huge cake, every eye of every single one of your loved ones there for you.

you deserved to be spoiled. dean didn't need to be told it to know it, but it was hard for him, sometimes, to remind himself that he could slow down. appreciate things. you'd helped him a lot in that regard, but it was hard to untrain a soldier into being a man again.

"this bed is nice!" you call to him from the bedroom part of your suite, and he actually laughs a little at the sound of it, hearing the little bounce of the mattress springs punctuating your words.

he undoes the tie from around his neck, draping it across the back of the couch, before he circles around it to find you, exactly how he thought you'd be: jumping on the bed like a damn kid.

you looked downright beautiful, even now. especially now. hair released from it's earlier style, flowing dress replaced with a shorter, more manageable one for the after party, your heels strung across the room. you'd even put the veil back on, the end of it catching in the wind as you jumped.

dean leans in the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, mouth tilted up in amusement. "are we having fun?"

"i'm having fun," you correct, the jumps stilling, your stance a little wobbly trying to balance on the springs, "you're watching me."

dean opens his mouth to say he's always watching you, but he didn't want to come off like a weirdo or anything. you knew you were marrying a weirdo, but, like, there were limits to how much weird a person could take in their partner.

your limit, apparently, was a supernatural hunter with dead parents and a talent at killing things. maybe, actually... you wouldn't have minded to hear about how often he just watched you.

watched you jump on every hotel or motel bed you'd both gotten. watched how your eyelashes fluttered in your sleep. watched as your eyebrows pinched together when you were cleaning the blood off of his face, or, for some godforsaken reason, doing his eyebrows. he was a much gentler, more lenient man since falling in love with the likes of you.

"stop staring at me like that," you laugh, having the audacity to sound sheepish, as if you weren't literally the prettiest person on the damn planet.

dean pushes off of the doorframe to cross the distance between the both of you. once he was close enough, your hands came up to rest on his cheeks, smushing them between your soft palms.

"like what?" he manages to mumble through it.

you lean down to kiss the tip of his nose. dean absolutely does not blush at that, either, shut up. "like you love me or something crazy like that."

"oh, can't love my wife now?" hard to speak through your light hold. easy to argue about loving you.

your hands fall to his, bending at the knee to try and haul his ass up onto the bed, too. "love me from up here." you somehow have even less balance, now, as you step backwards to make room for him on the king-sized bed, and his hand falls to your waist to steady you. "well, isn't this just the rom-com scene of the century."

dean snorts, taking your other hand into his to mimic the stance of your first dance, earlier that evening. "only you would have me dancin' on top of a bed." he pauses, shrugging lightly. "only you would have me dancin' at all."

your smile is wide and knowing. of course it is. he's not kept it a very good secret that you've got him going molten and soft, just for you.

there's no music. no sound at all beyond the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional traffic outside. even the sounds of the other hotel room doors opening and closing seems quieter here, in this moment with you. so he dances with you, keeps you upright on your feet, and doesn't seem to mind at all that this night doesn't seem to have an end in sight.

"told you the bed was nice," you say idly, just as he lowers you into a dip.

dean holds you there for a little bit of time, taking those few seconds to rake his eyes over the pristine white bedspread, and the mountain of pillows. pillows would be on the floor come morning time. sheets and blankets would be wrinkled to all hell. "not a single stain in sight," he agrees, lifting you back up to clutch you to his chest in an embrace, "wanna change that?"

"dean!" you try to scold but laugh instead, your palm flattening on his chest, curling into the white button-up's fabric. "shut up."

"what? it's a rite of passage for hotel sheets."

there's not a denial to follow, so dean breaks into a toothy, shit-eating grin.

"i think it's a great first thing to do, too, with these new wife and husband titles," he hums, mostly to himself, since you aren't arguing with him anymore.

you lift the veil off of your head and settle it on top of his, and dean really is a goddamn sucker now, because he even leans down to make it easier for you to reach. "okay," you sigh, as if you're resigning yourself to the inevitable, your mouth brushing his in a chaste kiss, "on one condition."

dean chases your mouth for a couple of more kisses, while he's got you so close. "and what's that, angel?"

you tug on the end of the veil on his head, now wearing a shit-eating grin of your own. "veil stays on during sex."

maybe he'd married a little weirdo, too.

notes. literally saw this gif on pinterest and immediately had to write something wedding related for my pookie wookie. <3

tags. @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @bluemerakis @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @gibson-g1rl @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @florchids @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

[buldakcorn]

thinking of haseul fucking a lucky fanboy 😵‍💫 she gets curious and so during a VIP fanmeeting after one of the stops she slides her number into a fanboy's pocket and invites him to her hotel room 😵‍💫🥵

Haseul's eyes locked onto a particularly eager fanboy, his cheeks flushed with excitement. With a sly smile, she discreetly slid a piece of paper with her hotel room number inside the pages as she signed his album.

He looked up at her, oblivious to the hidden invitation, and she gave him an extra wink before moving on to the next fan. As the event concluded, she retreated to her hotel suite, the anticipation building in her stomach like a coiled spring.

The fanboy couldn't shake the feeling that the brief interaction with Haseul had been charged with an unusual energy. After the fanmeeting, while replaying the moments in his head, a piece of crumpled paper fell off his album. Unfolding it with trembling fingers, he found the hotel room number scrawled in her delicate handwriting. Disbelief washed over him like a tidal wave. Was this a mistake? A joke? Or perhaps the opportunity of a lifetime?

With his heart in his throat, he decided to take a chance and headed for the hotel. When he reached her floor, he took a deep breath, paused outside the door, and knocked. The door swung open to reveal the goddess herself, dressed in a silk robe that barely contained her allure. She looked him up and down with a knowing smile before stepping aside, inviting him in.

She took his hand and led him to the plush king-sized bed. As they sat down together, she leaned in, her breath warm against his cheek, and whispered, "You know why you're here, don't you?" He could only nod, unable to form coherent words as he stared into her mesmerizing eyes. She chuckled softly, standing up to let her robe fall open, revealing her stunning figure.

She climbed onto the bed, straddling him, and began to kiss him deeply, her tongue dancing with his as her hands roamed his body, setting it ablaze with desire. His hands, once trembling, now boldly explored her curves, tracing the lines of her body as if he had known them all his life.

His senses were overwhelmed as Haseul's kiss grew more urgent. Haseul broke away from the kiss just long enough to let him catch his breath, as she reached down and unbuckled his belt. He watched, entranced, as she slowly slid his pants down, revealing his hardened arousal. With a smirk, she leaned down and kissed the tip, her warm breath causing him to shiver with pleasure. His hands found their way into her hair, gripping tightly as she took him into her mouth.

The fanboy's eyes rolled back in his head as Haseul's mouth moved over him with an expertise that left no doubt as to her intentions. Each stroke of her velvety tongue sent waves of ecstasy crashing through his body, and he could feel himself losing control. He knew he had to return the favor, to show her how much this moment meant to him.

He gently pushed her back, and she allowed him to take charge. He leaned over her, kissing along her neck and collarbone. His mouth found her nipple, teasing and sucking as she gasped, her body arching into his touch. His hand slid between her thighs, finding her wet and ready, and he marveled at the warmth and softness of her.

The fanboy's fingers danced over Haseul's sensitive folds. His bare chest pressed against her skin, sending electric jolts of desire coursing through her. He kissed his way down her body, his mouth leaving a trail of heat that made her core throb in anticipation.

When his tongue met her clit, she bucked her hips, a cry escaping her lips. Haseul's legs wrapped around his head, holding him in place as he feasted on her, savoring every taste and sound she offered. The intensity grew, building to a crescendo that had her nails digging into his scalp, her body tightening around his mouth. Just as she felt herself on the edge of climax, she pulled him back up, needing to feel him inside her.

"Now, I want you now."

He didn't hesitate, positioning himself at her entrance. He pushed into her, inch by inch, filling her completely. Her walls clenched around him, and he groaned, his own desire reaching new heights. Haseul's hips began to rock, setting a rhythm that matched the erratic beat of their hearts. The fanboy watched her face contort with pleasure, feeling a primal satisfaction that went beyond physical sensation.

Their bodies moved as one, the fanboy's every thrust met with a desperate moan from Haseul. She felt herself climbing higher, each stroke bringing her closer to the edge. The fanboy's hand found hers, their fingers intertwining as their rhythm grew more frantic. They were lost in each other, two souls connecting in the most intimate way possible.

As Haseul reached her peak, she called out his name, the sound echoing in the room. Her orgasm washed over her, a tsunami of pleasure that left her trembling and gasping for air. The fanboy felt her tighten around him and, unable to hold back any longer, he followed suit, his release filling her as he collapsed onto her, their chests heaving in unison.

For a moment, they lay there, basking in the afterglow, the weight of the world lifted from their shoulders. It was a moment they would both remember forever.

[dtaylor67]

The Role of Luxury Hotel Mattresses in Elevating Guest Experience ?

In the competitive hospitality industry, the comfort and satisfaction of guests are paramount. One of the most crucial elements contributing to a memorable stay is the quality of the bed. Luxury hotel mattresses play a significant role in elevating the guest experience, ensuring that every night spent at the hotel is a restful and rejuvenating one. At Respa Beds, a leading provider of luxury beds in Ireland, we understand the importance of a high-quality mattress for hotel beds. Here’s how luxury hotel mattresses can enhance the guest experience.

Unmatched Comfort and Support

Luxury hotel mattresses are designed to provide exceptional comfort and support. These mattresses often feature advanced spring systems, such as pocket springs, which offer individualized support by adapting to the body’s contours. This ensures that guests experience minimal motion transfer, resulting in a peaceful and undisturbed sleep. Respa Beds, one of the most luxurious mattress brands, offers a range of premium mattresses tailored to meet the highest standards of comfort and support.

High-Quality Materials

The best mattress brands use top-quality materials that contribute to the overall comfort and durability of the mattress. Luxury hotel mattresses often incorporate natural fillings, high-density foams, and advanced fabrics that enhance breathability and moisture-wicking properties. This not only ensures a comfortable sleep environment but also promotes better hygiene and longevity of the mattress. At Respa Beds, we pride ourselves on using only the finest materials to craft our luxury handmade beds, ensuring an unparalleled sleep experience for hotel guests.

Enhanced Guest Satisfaction

A comfortable and supportive mattress can significantly enhance guest satisfaction. When guests experience a restful night’s sleep, they are more likely to have a positive impression of the hotel. This can lead to higher guest retention rates, positive reviews, and increased word-of-mouth referrals. Investing in high-quality mattresses for hotel rooms, such as those offered by Respa Beds, can thus contribute to the overall success of the hotel.

Variety and Customization

Luxury hotel mattress brands like Respa Beds offer a wide variety of mattresses to cater to different preferences and needs. Whether it’s a king size mattress for a suite or a standard premium mattress for a regular room, hotels can choose from a range of options to suit their requirements. Additionally, customized solutions are available, allowing hotels to tailor their bedding to align with their brand’s luxury standards.

Conclusion

In the realm of hospitality, providing an exceptional sleep experience is crucial. Luxury hotel mattresses from renowned brands like Respa Beds can make a significant difference in guest satisfaction and comfort. By investing in high-quality, luxurious mattresses, hotels can ensure their guests have a restful and memorable stay, ultimately enhancing the hotel’s reputation and success.

Explore our range of luxury hotel mattresses and premium bedding solutions at Respa Beds. Discover why we are one of the leading luxury bed companies in Ireland, committed to delivering the best sleep experience with our luxury handmade beds and mattresses.

[muwapsturniolo]

Disconnected 🌐 M. Sturniolo.

"I'm a falling star, a glimmer lighting up these cotton streets."

⟢ Fluff, smut, Matt being in love.

divider cred @bernardsbendystraws

He was stressed.

It seemed as if everything was piling onto his shoulders and weighing him down. Life was beginning to feel like a tangled web of endless phone calls due to meetings and constant "I don't know" s.

She was also stressed, caught up in the blinking lights and dial tones of her own job.

They were both victims of the worldwide system, but they found their sweet escape with each other. Together, they could tune out the static sounds of the city that never sleeps, their phones being turned off as they enjoy their time with each other.

Matt huffs as he walks down the softly lit hallway of the apartment building, pulling out his own key and putting it into the lock. He enters her apartment, inhaling the soft scent of brown sugar and maple. It was a smell that brought him comfort, reminding him of his favorite season.

He kicks off his shoes, lazily kicking them onto the mat and making his small trek to her bedroom. He smiles seeing her laying down on her stomach under the pile of blankets, a book in front of her. It was obvious she was naked, her bare shoulders and back proving that much.

She turns her head back, looking at him softly with tired eyes, "Hi baby, you look tired." She places her bookmark in the crevice of the paperback, closes the cover, and placing it on her nightstand.

"Yeah, work is getting to me...But I don't want to talk about that though-" She watches as he moves around her bedroom, grabbing the spare clothes he left here and changing into the relaxing material.

He crawls into the bed, smiling to himself as he pulls her on his lap, making her giggle softly.

"I just want to focus on you,"

Despite the sun shining brightly through the windows of the bedroom, it begins to rain, providing a sense of tranquility to the moment between the couple.

His thumbs rub soft circles on her hips, slowly dipping under the band of her underwear, the only material on her body. She hums softly, looking up at him with a spark in her eye.

"Focus on me then," she begins to gently rock her hips, Matt's breath hitching at the action. His hands leave her waist and travel to her back, running up and down the soft brown skin.

"You want me to focus on you?" He quirks a brow, a glimmer of a smirk making its way onto his face. She nods, continuing the rocking of her hips and leaning closer to him.

"Of course I do."

With that, their lips touch, the kiss not being hasty and hungry, yet remaining soft and sloppy. His hands move back to her waist as her own hands take place on his shoulder and his cheek. She begins to grind her hips down harder, smiling into the kiss as she feels the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

He trails his kisses down to her neck, pulling her closer as he leaves his mark on her. "Been waiting for you all day, needed to be with you, thinking of nothing but you." He breathes out, his grip tightening.

His lips move to her breasts, his tongue circling around one of her hardened nipples, one of his hands tweaking at the other. Her eyes close as a soft whimper escapes between her parted lips. Her fingers rake through his hair, gently tugging on the soft brown strands. He captures her lips once again in a sloppy kiss, already working at removing his sweats, aided by her own hands.

As soon as his cock springs up between them, slapping against his abdomen with a leaking red tip, his hands tear her underwear in half, throwing the damaged material somewhere along the king-sized bed.

He swipes two fingers through her folds, his groans and her soft moans mixing together in an orgasmic harmony. He spreads her wetness around, using it as a makeshift lube to prep her.

"Gonna ride me sweetheart?"

She says nothing, grabbing the base of his cock and hovering over it before sinking down. His grip on her waist tightens tenfold at the feeling of her warm velvet walls gripping his shaft, a low groan leaving his mouth as he tilts his head against the headboard. Her whole body shudders as the warm goosebumps rise along her body, her soft and perfect moans filling the room.

He loved it.

He loved the sounds she made, the way her body moved against his. He loved how they got lost in each other, putting the world to the side and disconnecting from society.

They were each other's favorite people, favorite place. They were each other's getaway, a vacation from the struggles of life.

He aids her in bouncing up and down on his cock, the lewd and crude noises filling the room along with their moans of stimulation.

"Fuck - look at you - mm, looking so pretty f'me." He pants, a thin layer of sweat covering both their bodies as the heat between them grows stronger.

"M-Matt!" She whimpers as his thumb begins to circle her clit, the bundle of nerves sending a shock wave of pleasure through her body. He uses his other hand to bring her head closer, their lips uniting for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Oh fuuck - Come on sweetheart, finish for me, m'so close." He urges, the knot in his stomach ready to snap at any given moment.

She whimpers, her pace remaining the same but her actions growing more eager. She slams her hips down harder, the tip of his cock reaching the deepest parts of her and making her eyes roll back. He puts more pressure on her clit, his endless figure eights getting faster.

She collapses against his chest, still rocking her hips as she and Matt reach their peak. He wraps his arms around her waist, turning them over in the bed so they're lying down.

They lay there in silence, basking in the afterglow of their sexual activities.

He rubs her back softly, watching her eyes follow her hands that are tracing his tattoos, counting the ink on his skin.

"I'm a falling star, a glimmer lighting up these cotton streets."

She furrows her brows, confused as to what his words mean.

"I'm falling in love with you more and more every day...My favorite place to be is here, with no pressure from the outside world, no loud sounds or phones, we barely watch tv when with each other...You're my favorite place."

"...You're my favorite place...My home"

[rosierin]

close quarters│atsumu miya

synopsis: the inarizaki vollyeball team go on a weekend trip to the hot springs and you have the misfortune of having to share a bed with your best friends' annoying twin brother.

"Huh," you say, a little too breezily given your current circumstance.

Beside you, you catch a glimpse of your inevitable sleepover buddy smirking, murmuring something about 'the stars finally aligning' and promising 'one hell of a night.'

Your nose scrunches up at the prospect, giving him a playful shove while he chuckles and holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"As if, you sleaze. You're sleeping on the floor."

At this, Atsumu's face falls into an indignant scowl. "I don't think so, sweetheart," he scoffs. "This is my room, remember?" He cocks his eyebrows in a way that makes your eye twitch. As much as you hate to admit it, his smugness is actually justified, trapping you in a situation you can't argue your way out of. He knows he's right, knows you can't back your way out of this one, and the thought makes you curse your carelessness.

It was your fault, after all, for booking the room last minute. But of all the people you could've ended up with, it just had to be him— your best friend's childish, annoying, cocky, and frustratingly attractive twin brother. With no other rooms available, Atsumu’s was your last viable option, or else you'd have to kiss the weekend at the hot springs goodbye.

Sighing, you swallow your pride. "Fine, I'll sleep on the floor. I'll just have to find a spare cover or something."

After neatly tucking your belongings in the corner of the suite, you take it upon yourself to rummage through the wardrobe in search of an extra duvet, preferably something thick so you don't freeze to death during the cold winter night. Your mind barely registers the sound of Atsumu presumably tossing his duffle bag on the floor, the sound resulting in a heavy thud when your hand grazes something at the back of the wardrobe.

Grasping the fabric, you pull it out with a few gentle tugs and hold it up, only to grin when a large, crisp white duvet unfolds itself and dangles onto the floor. "Aha!" you declare triumphantly, relief washing over you. "Found one."

Behind you, Atsumu leans against the doorframe, lidded eyes watching you with an amused yet contemplative gaze. You glance over your shoulder, noticing how he hadn't yet started unpacking. He flashes you that signature smirk and cuts you off before you can comment on it— "Is the thought of sharin' a bed with me really that bad?"

There's that unmistakable twinkle in his eyes, a suggestiveness to his lilting Kansai accent, teasing and playful in tone. And if it weren't for the years of knowing him, you could've missed the slight twinge of insecurity slipping through the cracks of his otherwise self-assured persona.

You hesitate, weighing your words. What are you supposed to say to such a blunt question? The more you dwelled on it, the more it felt like a trap, like a double-edged sword.

'Yes' sounded almost too cruel. Everyone who knew Atsumu knew he was a secret softie at heart. Words cut him deeper than he let on, and you weren't so heartless as to hurt his feelings.

On the other hand, 'no' sounded too close to an invitation for your liking. It left too much room for his imagination, too much room for his shameless teasing.

Besides, Atsumu didn't need to know that you probably wouldn't be able to fall asleep with him lying beside you. Not with the limited space separating you, the warmth that would radiate off his body...

You banished the thought from your head as it wandered into treacherous territory.

Breaking the tension, you opted for something non-committal. "S'not that," you begin, avoiding his gaze as you fiddle with the edge of the duvet. "It would just be a bit cramped, is all." The words feel clumsy the moment they leave your mouth, an obvious pretext for a blatant lie.

You studiously ignore the way Atsumu's gaze flickers to the king-size bed, then back to you, his smirk broadening.

There's a beat of silence— one that drags on for a bit too long— before Atsumu pushes himself off the doorframe, huffing a laugh through his nose.

"Suit yourself, doll face."

You roll your eyes, feeling the familiar tug of irritation mixed with a reluctant amusement. "Stop with the nicknames. People are gonna get ideas."

"What people?" He quips, winking. "As far as I know, tonight's just you and me."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling the onset of a headache. "Atsumu—"

"Babe?"

His grin widens at your glare, and you sigh, resigned. Yep, it's definitely going to be a long night.

The room is cloaked in near darkness, save for the silvery moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains and the flickering light from your phone screens. Outside, the steady chirp of crickets fills the night air, blending with the low buzz of videos from Atsumu's phone. You can hear the familiar squeak of volleyball shoes on polished wood, occasionally interspersed with a viral TikTok sound that you recognize all too quickly, your body dancing—or rather—wiggling beneath your sheets.

"God, I need to spend less time on TikTok," you mutter to yourself, a half-hearted chuckle following your confession.

As time goes by and silence eventually falls upon the room, you find yourself growing more and more irritable.

On the floor, the duvet beneath you feels thinner than a budget hotel towel. Every toss and turn makes a crunching sound like stepping on a thin layer of snow. It is miserably uncomfortable. You feel like a peasant. Meanwhile, a king lies comfortably, clearly enjoying the plush life atop the bed.

After hearing you groan, Atsumu's low, amused laugh interrupts your incessant rustling. "Ya know... I’m not against ya joinin’ me, if ya ask nicely."

The words make you stop mid-toss. "Don’t be an ass, 'Tsumu. The floor’s rock solid."

"Am bein' nice! But if you'd rather stay on the cold hard floor, suit yerself," he replies, his tone lilting with mock sympathy and a poorly veiled smirk.

"Wait," you say abruptly, your voice tinged with defeat. He pauses, a hum of curiosity in the air.

Chewing on your lip, you weigh the lesser of two embarrassments. Losing the battle with your pride or a night next to Atsumu? He is already turning back when you blurt out, "I’ll get in," your voice a mix of resignation and annoyance.

Atsumu’s grin spreads across his face, victorious and unbearable. You can practically hear his ego swelling. Grudgingly, you crawl into the bed beside him. Instantly, you have to admit— the bed is a cloud compared to the stony hell of the floor. Warm, soft, and dare you say blissful.

"Happy now?" you grumble, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

"Ecstatic,'" Atsumu chirps, clearly pleased. The bed is indeed luxurious, a stark contrast to the floor's inhospitable terrain. "Yer welcome, by the way. I ain’t usually this gracious."

You all but roll your eyes, but you suppose somewhat of a 'thanks' can't hurt. "Thanks, Your Highness. How ever shall I repay such a great act of kindness?"

You curse the question the second it leaves your lips. Atsumu catches on all too quickly, jumping on the opportunity like it's second nature. "Well, since yer askin'..."

You kick his leg. He lets out a bark of laughter.

"Walked straight into that one, didn't ya?"

You shake your head, unable to contain the growing tug at your lips. "I did," you admit, sighing in defeat. The room falls silent for a moment, the only sound being the distant chirping of crickets outside. You shift slightly, turning to face him in the darkness. "Why do you always do that?" you ask softly, the mood shifting.

"Do what?" His voice is closer now, curious.

"Push my buttons. You always know how to rile me up."

There's a pause, then Atsumu shifts closer, his voice a low whisper. "Do ya not like it?" There's a hint of genuine curiosity mixed with playfulness— maybe even a hint of concern— in his question.

You pause, considering. The truth is, his constant teasing does get under your skin, but not always in the way he thinks. Sometimes it's in a way that makes you want to slap the grin off his face. Other times— most times— it sends an uninvited, but not unwelcome flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

Before you can formulate a response, you feel his hand, tentative but deliberate, brushing against your arm. He runs his knuckles along your exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch is warm, gentle, and sends an involuntary shiver right down your spine.

"Sometimes," you finally whisper, your voice thick with unvoiced thoughts. Atsumu inches even closer, so close now that you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. His hand finds your body again, bolder this time as he begins to trace the outline of your waist, down the curve of your hips where he rests his hand. His thumb draws circles on the ticklish area, and you feel your cheeks burn at his ministrations.

His eyes search yours in the dim light as he slowly slips his hand under the fabric of your oversized T-shirt. There's a soft question dancing in his honey irises, and you find yourself unable to look away. The air around you feels charged, heavy with something unspoken and thrilling.

Suddenly, his hand ventures lower, a playful yet bold move that makes you tense with a mix of surprise and a flicker of excitement that you promptly shut down. "Nuh-uh," you chide, half-heartedly trying to sound stern. "You’re still my best friend's brother."

Atsumu gawks like you've just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. "That's yer reasoning?"

It's not. But you don't give him the courtesy of knowing.

You quietly chuckle to yourself, relishing in his reaction. Then he grins that handsome grin of his. "Well, can't blame a guy for tryin', can ya?" His voice is teasing, but his eyes hold a deeper emotion, something you can't quite name but feel stirring something within you.

You open your mouth to retort, a witty comeback teetering on the tip of your tongue, but it's lost as his face draws nearer. The distance between you closes, so close now that your breaths are the only sound amidst the quiet of the room. His eyes, a clear and penetrating hue, hold your gaze, a challenging flicker flashing across his features, daring you to close the gap.

The world shrinks to the space between your lips, almost touching, the tension so thick you could almost grasp it. Your heart hammers in your chest, loud in your ears, and for a long, drawn-out moment, everything stands still.

Just as you think he might actually kiss you, a soft creak from somewhere within the house pierces the silence. It’s slight, nearly imperceptible, but enough to make you both freeze, a reminder of the world beyond this electrifying bubble.

He hesitates, his breath hitching slightly, and you catch the subtle scent of mint on his breath, mixed with something distinctly him. It's intoxicating. You both linger in that hesitation, the air charged with unspoken possibilities, eyes locked in a silent conversation filled with 'what ifs.'

Then, a loud knock shatters the moment. "Oi, you two better not be doin' anythin' weird in there!" Osamu’s voice, mock stern yet clearly amused, cuts through the tension like a knife through butter. You swear you can hear the faint snicker of someone else, too— most likely Suna.

The sudden noise causes you both to jerk in surprise, your heads coming together with a brisk, painful thud. 'Ow!' you both exclaim, clutching your foreheads.

Atsumu scowls, rubbing the spot where your heads collided. "Oi, watch it, would ya?" He whisper-shouts.

You huff, still holding your forehead, "Me? That was all you!"

Outside, Osamu chuckles, then teases, "I hear an awful lotta silence in there!"

"Shut up, stupid ‘Samu. Mind yer own business!" Atsumu yells back, a flush creeping up his neck.

Despite the interruption and the minor mishap, a giggle escapes you as the tension dissolves into a moment of shared laughter between you and Atsumu. "Guess we’ll have to continue this some other time," he murmurs, his voice low and promising, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he settles back under the covers.

You lay back beside him, the earlier rush of adrenaline slowly ebbing away, replaced by a warmth that has nothing to do with the accidental headbutt. Tonight might be long, but maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be as unbearable as you'd thought.

[mommyslittlebird]

A little idea that I had that may turn into a full fic:

Daddy!Natasha x Mommy!Wanda x Reader, also Nat has a penis

You and Natasha rarely had sex with each other without Wanda. It’s not that you didn’t like Natasha as much or even that you were still nervous around her. There simply just hadn’t been many opportunities.

This afternoon, though, you were a bit earlier than usual. Your last class had been cancelled and you were coming straight from campus. You were surprised to find Wanda wasn’t home yet, but Natasha informed you she had a meeting this afternoon that kept her late. She would be home soon.

Now, it would’ve been easy for you to wait; you and Natasha could’ve mixed some drinks or fixed some food so you could all have dinner together when Wanda got home.

But, you didn’t want to do that. And, as it turned out, neither did Natasha.

So instead, you found yourself on all fours in the middle of their king-sized bed, while Natasha absolutely plowed you from behind.

She was always so much rougher with you than Wanda was, but you liked it sometimes. Wanda was always so calculated and careful. She knew how to make it hurt, of course, but she always took her time. Each of her moves were meticulously planned and practiced.

Natasha, on the other hand, was far more primal and spontaneous.

She twisted your hair around her hand, pulling you towards her so you were forced to arch your back and strain your neck a little bit. The position didn’t allow you to keep your mouth closed, so your jaw hung open and moans flew unrestrained past your parted lips.

“Ungh- daddy… daddy…” you groaned. Natasha loved to have you like this, practically drooling as you struggled to swallow your own spit.

“What is it, angel?” She asked. Her stamina was impressive. She’d kept this mercilessly pace for nearly 20 minutes and still hardly broke a sweat.

“Do you… do you think if mommy came home right now she’d… she’d put on the strap… and-and take my mouth… while you… you fucked me just like this?” You proposed, struggling to speak.

“Fuck!” Natasha shouted. The visual of what you were describing: her, face to face with her wife while you knelt in between them. The idea of you gagging on Wanda’s strap while she took you from behind. It was all too much. She stumbled forward and accidentally pulled out as she unexpectedly came.

You collapsed forward as well, unable to hold her up. You felt the warm sensation of her cum painting your back.

“Shit,” she panted, followed by a short chuckle. “Angel, you can’t just spring something like that on me without warning.” She smiled and collapsed beside you on her back.

She wiped away the hair that clung to your sweaty forehead, and you both laughed breathlessly.

Before you could even collect yourselves, you both heard the distinct sound of the front door opening. “Honey? Did our little angel come by early? I thought I saw her car in the driveway.”

Wanda was home.