#how long can an insanity plea last

[notfeelingthyaster]

like i get bruce won't kill joker or whatever (boooooooooo 🙄) but doesn't new jersey or gotham have death penalty? if not, there's no way for joker to be tried by federal justice after how many war crimes this man committed? and then promptly executed, bc i don't think the insanity plea holds to multiple accounts of mass murder, serial killing and premeditated kills

[slightlypossessed]

Synopsis — Spencer's favourite meal (aka dr reid eats pussy)

Who? — Dr. Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

18+ content — MDNI

small drabble post bcs pussy drunk Spencer is on the brain <3

"Spencer," you whine, "no more, please,"

"C'mon, baby," his voice is desperate and pained, as if he's the one who's been mercilessly toyed with this past hour or so. "One for more for me, sweetheart," he licks a long strip along your cunt, "one more."

But it was one more an orgasm ago. In fact, it was one more three, four, five orgasms ago.

Distantly, somewhere in the back of your frazzled and half-mush brain, you wonder if his jaw is sore – if he's really enjoying it as much as his humping and moaning seem to be giving away. Does he really get this much pleasure out of something as simple as eating you out?

But it's not that simple, no– not to Spencer.

For Spencer, it's the concept of your pleasure, the show you unawaredly put on: the hitches in your breath each time he puts his tongue on your clit again, the low moan when he sucks, the breathy please as you beg him to go faster. The way your hips circle and stutter beneath the hold his arms have on them, it's the way you sigh his name – low and dreamy as your back arches of the sheets when he makes you cum.

Spencer enjoys it all – craves it all, always. He's barely even lucid at this point. Your slick a most sweet elixir, throwing him deeper and deeper into a lust-filled haze till he's mindlessly rutting into the mattress and moaning into your core.

He wants to taste you again, taste your sweet liquor as you cum for him, again.

How can he not when your so pretty like this? taste as addictive as you do? make him feel half-insane as you moan out his name and grind your hips down onto his tongue – greedily asking for more, always wanting more, just as he so desperately does. You're the same as him, you want more, more, more – and he'll always so oh, so eagerly provide.

Your thighs are wet and sticky and Spencer seems to revel gleefully in the fact – he's made them like this, he's why your cunt is wet with slick, why your face is covered in tears and few smudges of mascara.

Spencer's mouth is hot on your pussy as he continues his work. He plunges two long and slender fingers inside of your, hooking them up as he moves them in-and-out, all the while sucking on your swollen clit.

"fuck," your back bows off the mattress. You're already so close – was close the moment he put his tongue on you again not even a second after your last orgasm.

"Spencer, please–" you don't know what you plea for – don't know if it's for mercy or for damnation. You're not sure if you should pull his head closer by the hand in his hair, or move away to stave off your orgasm. You're not sure you can handle more, even if you want it, you can't guarantee that another orgasm won't break you. But it doesn't matter, Spencer's movements are relentless, and either way he'll get you there – he needs to make you cum. Your hand in his hair remains neutral.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you can already feel the familiar sweet, honeyed sensation fill you up. Warmth moving through your nerves and seeping deep into your bones. Your eyes are already closed, eyes sightlessly moving around beneath your lids as if caught in a restless dream — and you almost feel like you are in one: some feverish, psychosomatic sex dream.

Spencer efforts double, almost like he can notice the proximity of your orgasm, telepathically able to predict when the sensation is about to flood you even before you've been made aware yourself. His hips grind down harder against the mattress as he, seemingly unaware, tries to make himself cum to the sweet sounds of your pleasure.

His fingers move deeper, motions precise. The pads of his fingers nudge that soft spot deep in your cervix, and your legs are clamping closed, only held open by his bobbing head.

"Spencer!" you moan, "too much, fuck– please, honey, please," soft words bubble from your lips, your brain too pleasure-frazzled to form any other, more coherent requests.

Spencer's fingers continue their movements, his tongue moves up and down your cunt, before he rips out his fingers to stuff his face right in the centre of you to get a good taste, his nose brushing against your clit as he does so. You reward him with a cry, and he gifts you back his own moans. His sounds pressed deep into your cunt, making vibrations reverberate from your core to your chest, wrecking your body tremors as they flow through you.

He sucks and sucks, drinking your juices like a man depraved and dying of thirst. Spencer's always been an eager lover.

The coil begs to snap, stretched far too taught. His tongue plunges deep inside you, tasting along the spongy walls of your cunt.

All it takes is one simple movement from Spencer. His thumb circles your clit once, twice, his nose nudges your clit closer to his thumb – and you're screaming.

"Spencer!" you cry out as your back arches off the mattress completely. Your hips still held down by Spencer's strong arms intertwined around them, holding you hostage to his pleasure.

Moan after moan releases from your throat, mindlessly spoken words mixing in the middle: some please, some Spencers, a few cuss words in the bundle.

Despite the intensity you feel, the electricity that increases second by second, your hips act on a mind of their own. As every alarm in your friend brain goes off, telling you to stop the stimulation before you go insane, your hips yet continue to move, jerky circles following Spencer's still ongoing torment.

And Spencer's doesn't deprive you of any pleasure – his tongue still rapidly laps at your juices. The movements of his thumb on your clit are gentle, however. Slow, deliberate and soft circles.

Spencer doesn't fully slow down though, and before you can consider pulling him away with your weakened grip on his hair, Spencer's movements stutter. His body wracks with tremors, the movements of his mouth on you spasmodic. His hips thrash against the sheets. Spencer's movements are sporadic and shaky as his own cum erupts through his aching, hard cock.

Spencer's eyes roll far back into his skull, and you lean your head down to watch as his back bows while he whimpers and mewls against your pussy as he ruins the fabric of his boxers.

His hips continue to jerk, and he lays some soft, open-mouthed kisses on you as he rides out the high of a most divine feeling.

When his hips still, and sounds come back into focus, Spencer's hands loosen on you as he begins his ascent up your body, too eager to share the sweet taste of you on your tongue.

"mhmm," he hums against your pubic mound, laying a wet kiss as his handa move up to caress your body.

"you made me cum, pretty girl," he whispers against your stomach, you feel the curve of his lips around every word. "fuck, your sweet cunt and pretty sounds made me cum," another kiss laid higher up, "made me feel so good,"

You hum back in reply, unable to fully form a sentence yet.

"Didn't even need to try," he murmurs, and it's true. Spencer can cum from just looking at you, from your soft sounds and breathy whimpers. It's happened before, and it almost happened tonight when you moaned out his name all dreamy and dainty as he made you cum that first time.

"You sounded so pretty, too," his words carry on as his kisses move higher. He lays a wet kiss on your sternum, quickly darting out his tongue to lick a drop of sweat of your skin.

His big hands move all over you, from your hip to around your waist, then up to caress your chest, thumbs running over your nipples, before Spencer decides to taste them instead.

His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he settles himself between your legs.

His takes one breast into his mouth, sucking at the plump skin, head bobbing as he kisses and licks at your chest. His tongue swipes over your nipple, once, twice, three, five times till your hoarse voice whimpers out your pleasure – much to his satisfaction. He moves to repeat the same movements on the other breast.

Once he's satisfied, he releases you with a pop, the sound obscene and loud, contrasting your soft pants.

"Did you feel good, baby?" he speaks the words now against the side of your neck. You nod in response, your jaw softly meeting the side of his face as you do. Spencer chuckles at the contact, and moves out of the cervix of your neck to properly look at you instead.

His brown eyes meet yours. This close, you can make each individual flick of gold in his eyes, each green strand the decorates the brown.

"Tell me," he requests, soft and gentle. He kisses you tenderly on the lips. "tell me how good it felt,"

"So good, Spence," you reply, voice rough with use, whilst you wrap your hands around his neck, one burrowing into his soft curls. His eyes flutter as your nails lightly scrape his skull, and he feels a low buzz at the contact.

"Good," he kisses you again, satiated and satisfied with your answer.

It seems to you like Spencer's gotten his fill, for now. He's only made you cum, what? 5 or 6 times?

He kisses you softly, and you hope that Spencer's settling to rest with you.

He kisses you slow and soft, humming gently against your lips. He lays one kiss on your temple, another on your forehead, and one on each of your closed eyelids as you begin to settle and relax against the pillows, your brain wandering off as you lose time between each kiss and the next; your brain dozes off for half-seconds as the atmosphere quiets.

so calm....so quiet

Your grip on Spencer loosens, the entrancing, post-euphoria haze thickens and stretches time as sounds around you mute and an exhausted smile settles across your face as you give into that weightless feeling and finally rest.

—

Spencer's hands wander downwards, yet again, his fingers settling on your clit as he aligs his once more hard cock with your entrance.

Liked reading this? >> Give this a go

A/N — some late night Spencer thoughts. Been wanting to right for dr. pretty boy for a while now.

+ experimenting with shorter fics now, hopefully I'll write more like this? also it's not properly edited if u can't tell ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙

Feedback is always wanted & appreciated!

Requests are open!!

[cultofcipher]

Bill Cipher thoughts (BoB Spoilers Ahead)

I'm really sitting on how Bill's displayed so much of himself indirectly in the BoB. How during the Love section he denies having exes, marking them out. How said exes show up SEVERAL times scratched out or are regarded with this bitterness of someone who did NOT do the breaking up part. Bill got dumped. Every time. And is desperately trying to bury his feelings.

And that's something I think the Book of Bill really highlights in a way. The fact that Bill has feelings. That deep down he's a broken triangle. It's all over the book's writing. Him pointing out how to use denial and rationalization and other bad coping mechanisms to basically ignore and lie to himself (and show us how to do it) and basically convince himself that he is as heartless as he tries to be. Him avoiding his exes. The tone he uses and the avoidance really giving the "I don't handle breakups well and I'm still petty about it". Him constantly telling himself that he's fine. He's not fine. Him crying over Ford leaving and getting wasted. Him being bitter about the henchmaniacs not calling. His regret over what happened to his world. His loneliness. GOD his loneliness. His self-hatred. His scathing remark about definitely NOT having some tragic backstory that humanizes him and how he's not an "I can fix him case". Calling himself a monster. His longing for home. The "Last one breathing". The "I tried to change the past". The "my hands shaking, as I realized I could never undo the". The "until there was no one left but me, covered in blood, alone in the universe". The goddamn "I don't want to die alone" Valentine's card. The last few pages. Just, the last few pages. That isolation, his pained "I'M FINE". The almost sad plea for someone to let him out.

Bill cares. He's fucked up, unstable, violent. But he does care about people he gets along with and he feels understand him. For every "I'm just playing the bit" and using people with nice gestures, I think a fraction of that is somewhat genuine. And he hates it. He hates his own vulnerability. He hates his lack of apathy. He's denying himself his own emotions constantly under so many layers of distractions, eldritch horrors, and repression. He can't think about home, about failure, about how every relationship he's ever had, platonically or otherwise, ended. And it wasn't on his terms.

Him talking about/to his mom when he's drunk. How his mom called him Billy as a kid. How his home life sounded simple. How Bill as an individual is anything BUT simple. And how his drunken state holds such fondness for that simplicity, yet it was suffocating. How he would've broken free eventually, inevitably, because he knew that's who he was. It's his nature. He was destined for more.

How it cost him everything.

How he's constantly chasing insanity like it's a drug. Like he needs the power trip to stay high. To not think too hard. To drown out his emotions and his self-reflections and everything he hates about himself.

How in Gravity Falls he still tried to get Ford to side with him after everything, cause that was his vulnerability showing, for the slightest glimpse of a moment. Cause he doesn't want to do it alone. Him reaching out to the reader in his book, because he doesn't want to do it alone. Can't do it alone. Even when he eventually betrays that person, I think him offering Ford that cushy spot alongside his henchmaniacs makes me think that yeah, Bill actually would've upheld his end of the deal.

He thinks he wants multiversal domination. He thinks Weirdmageddon is his Magnum Oppus. His purpose. But he's so lost. If he ever does get what he wants, he won't know what to do with himself. He'll be faced with the "Now what?". He'll hit the end of the road and realize how unsatisfying it is. How this isn't what he wanted.

How lonely it is to be God.

I think the Axolotl sees that in Bill. It's why he doesn't try to destroy him or attack him or anything. He sees that inner self of Bill. Sees him for what he really is. Someone who needs a LOT of therapy, a true, honest to goodness friend or partner in his life, and maybe a more sustainable life purpose or hobby. He has so much potential and in a way his pursuit of power, rather than being an actualization of his abilities, is a waste of them, because it gets him nowhere.

And he needs help, even if he doesn't think he does. He's a depressed alcoholic frat boy trying to drown his misery in a way that hurts and kills worlds. He's a girlfailure, a bisexual/pansexual disaster (he's at LEAST canonically bisexual or at MOST canonically pan cause this guy has dated both ways).

Bill's book is so incredibly amazing for what it is. All the lies, all the unrealiable narrator parts of Bill's facades and flaws and him being himself and all of his genuine thoughts and feelings bleeding through the lines and showing themselves but only in a way that you can really understand if you understand him and can tell when he's lying and when he's not. To see the real parts of him, and everything else. This book was perfect, and it was perfectly imperfectly him. This truly is Bill's book. It's so him in such a raw and genuine yet dishonest way. I'm gonna cherish this damn book forever.

[lov-3-rs]

Let’s be Honest

Simon Riley (Bodyguard) x Reader!!

(mdni 18+)

Your father is an undercover investigator working a dangerous case on a human trafficking ring. Unfortunately, they somehow discovered his intentions, and now they're out for revenge. So, they’ve put a bounty on your head, claiming you’re worth millions to whoever is able to find you and sell you to the best bidder. Despite the danger, your father can’t abandon his mission as there were other lives on the line. He’s too close to cracking the case, rescuing the victims. To protect you, he hired someone no one would see coming for them and that was going to be protecting you. He hired a Ghost.

————————————————————————————

The moment you saw the brute, you couldn’t believe it. This 6’3”, 220lb, constantly masked man was supposed to be by your side for who knows how long. The sheer size of him was intimidating enough, but the mask? It kept you wondering what kind of man was beneath it.

You couldn’t argue with your father, though. He wanted you safe, and you weren’t about to be taken and sold off to some creep. So, you dealt with it. But now it’s been two months too long. Two damn months of constant monitoring, endless rules, and the same warnings: 'You need to listen to me Y/n,' 'Stay by my side,' or ‘It’s not safe.' It was honestly getting sickening at the fact he had complete control over your day to day life now.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I was thinking of going shopping today, get some fresh air,” you say, taking a bite of your breakfast. He stands near the window, eyes scanning the street outside like he always does. “Maybe,” he says, his voice low, almost disinterested. You roll your eyes. “Jesus Christ, why not? It’s just us walking down the street, Simon.”

You started using his real name after weeks of pestering him to tell you. It felt weird calling him “Ghost” all the time—like something out of a video game. What good was being around someone this long if you didn’t even know their name?

He glances back at you, his expression unreadable behind the mask—if there’s an expression at all. Then, just as silently, he turns back to the window. “You never know.” You put your fork down and stop eating, “Simon, I can’t keep going days without stepping foot outside, i’m literally going insane”, he steps away from the window and pulls a chair out to sit beside you. “Everything I do and everything I say is to protect you, that is the whole reason I am here”. you looked into his hauntingly dead eyes. “Please you can’t keep me trapped in these walls”. You say with hesitation in your voice wondering if this will be another useless plea to let him agree for you to get out the house. He paused for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. You smile, “oh my gosh really? we can go?!” you say quickly standing from your chair in excitement. “yes. but the moment I feel something is off we leave, immediately” he says sternly. You were already putting your plate away and running to your room to get ready.

You visited a few of your favorite stores near your house, picking up small items here and there. Simon stayed close, as usual, walking silently beside you. As you stepped out of another shop, he leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We’re going to one more store, then we’re heading home. Do you understand?” You shot him a side-eye but nodded, not in the mood for another argument.

The last stop was the lingerie shop—you had been eyeing their new fall line for weeks. You grabbed a few panties and bras before something else caught your eye: the most stunning, sexy set you’d ever seen. You had to try it on. Walking into the dressing room, you slipped out of your clothes and into the delicate lace set. The fabric felt luxurious against your skin. You peeked your head out, only seeing Simon waiting, his posture as stoic as ever. You stepped out to check yourself in the mirror, admiring the way the set hugged your curves. From the corner of his eye, Simon caught sight of you. His jaw clenched almost immediately as he tried to keep his focus elsewhere, but it was impossible. He’d been around you every day for two months, and he had seen plenty—your tight shirts with no bra, shorts that barely covered anything. He’d always kept his cool, reminding himself that you were off-limits, and he took care of himself whenever you were asleep or when he took a shower. But seeing you now, in something so revealing, stirred something deeper in him that made his jeans tighten. He forced himself to remain still, but the tension in his body betrayed his thoughts. Respect for your father, the job—those were the only things keeping him from acting on what he felt. And he had to keep it that way, or at least he was trying to.

You caught Simon’s gaze in the mirror, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to shift. His eyes were unreadable behind the mask, but you could feel something he wasn’t saying. You quickly looked away, clearing your throat. “What do you think?” you asked casually, but your pulse quickened. You didn’t know why you even asked—it wasn’t like you cared what he thought about lingerie. Or did you?

He blinked, caught off guard. “About what?”

“The lingerie,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I thought I’d get a professional opinion.” His jaw tightened more, but you caught the flicker of something in his eyes. “You don’t need my opinion.” You stepped a little closer, testing his boundaries. “Maybe I do.” He stayed still, but you could see the tension in his stance. His voice, when he spoke, was low. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” You laughed lightly. “What? Shopping?” His eyes met yours, and for a second, there was nothing but silence between you. “No,” he said softly, almost reluctantly. “This.” The weight of his words hung in the air. For a moment, neither of you moved. His response was a beat too slow. “You should hurry up,” he muttered, his voice deeper than usual. You rolled your eyes, but his tone made your skin tingle. There was something about the way he held himself that made you wonder—did he see you the way you were starting to see him? You slipped back into the dressing room to change, but the tension lingered, thick in the air. When you came out, dressed again, Simon stood up immediately, his shoulders tense. “Let’s go.” The rest of the walk home was quiet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted.

You walked into the house, setting your bags down and slipping off your shoes. Simon followed closely behind, immediately locking the door and heading to the windows like he always did, scanning the outside for any sign of danger. But your mind was elsewhere, replaying that one word—this—over and over again.

What did ‘it’ mean? You had to know.

“Simon,” you called out softly, still unable to meet his eyes. “What did you mean earlier?” He stiffened immediately, turning to face you. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he’d been hoping you would let it go. He didn’t mean to let that word slip out, and now he was trying to think of a way around it. “What do you mean?” His tone was even, but there was a slight edge to it, a hint of tension. You swallowed, gathering your courage. “You said I was making this hard. I’m not sure what that means… I want you to tell me.” Finally, you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. For a moment, Simon just stared at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching like he was fighting with himself. His silence hung in the air, thick and heavy, as though he was weighing whether or not to tell you the truth. He turned back to the window, staring outside as if it would give him the answer he needed. “You’re making my job harder,” he said after a long pause, but there was something in his voice—a hesitation. But you had a smirk on your face knowing exactly what it was, “it was the set wasn’t it?” there was a pause, “you thought I looked good, too good right?” you stepped closer to him testing his limits wanting more reaction out of him. “I think you should keep this fantasy shit to yourself” he said quickly snapping back at you, but you kept pushing, “I don’t blame you Simon, I bet it’s been months since you got laid and I won’t lie it’s been a hot minute for me too with you being around me all the time, having me cooped in this house” you can see his brows furrowing. “you’re crossing the god damn line” that’s what he was saying but the raging boner in his pants said completely different about your attitude.

Before you knew it, he was stepping toward you, his hand gripping your arm firmly. “You’re pushing me too far,” he said, his voice low and rough. You met his gaze, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. “Maybe I need you to push back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment was charged, and without warning, one of his hands let go from your arm to lift up his mask above his nose exposing his lips. your eyes widen never seeing anything but his eyes for the last few months. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, It was intense and consuming, leaving both of you breathless and more entangled than before.

He picked you up and put you on the dining table. the kiss became more passionate with his hands tangled in your hair, you could feel your core throb waiting to be touched. Simon pulled away from you and looked into your eyes, “you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to touch you” he says breathing heavily. “all those times you walked around with no bra and I could see your fucking nipples through your shirt and the times you walked around with your ass out, god I wanted to bend you over, i’d fuck you right there and don’t even forget about the times I could here you moaning in the shower doing god knows what to that pussy, ya fuckin minx” your cunt was practically dripping at his words, your breathing became more heavier, “Then do it Simon, bend me over and fuck me” before you could say anymore he already was turning you over on the counter and pulling your pants down. “already planning on it love”. Simon pulled your pants down then slowly pulled your panties down revealing your wet pussy. he bent down to get eye level with it bring his fingers up to your folds and playing with your clit. You moaned at his touched, “fuh-fuck”. Simon pulled his fingers away and replaced it with his tongue, licking your throbbing clit and making you squirm.

He ate you out till you came on his mouth, “Si please”. Simon got up and looked at your bent over form while he started unbuckling his pants, “please what love?” he already knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. “fuck me hard” he smiled at your words taking his hard cock in his hand rubbing his pre cum all over the top of his head giving it extra lubricant. He aligned his cocked to your hole and slammed into you making you jump, “Shhhhhhhit” you hiss out the word from the painful pleasure. He started to thrust in and out of you hearing your moans made him want to cum already but he couldn’t, it felt too damn good to stop now. Simon bent down to your ear, “All those fuckin times you were playing with this tight cunt in the shower, who were you thinkin about huh?”. You didn’t want to answer out of embarrassment but you did it anyways, “y-you si, I thought about sucking your cock and you cumming all over my tits” that snapped something in him when you said that, his pace picked up he started fucking you harder, his balls slapping against your clit. “what would ya daddy think of the man he hired to protect you fucking your pussy raw?”. You could feel your self about to cum, “Si I’m gonna cum on your cock” his thrust became sloppier feeling himself about to finish too, “cum baby, cum”. Simon thrusted harder into your cunt making your back arch more and your ass jiggle against his hips the sight was pushing him over the edge, “god damn baby i’m gonna to cum” his hands gripped into your hips harder. “Simon cum inside me god please”. He busted a load in you, pushing his cock feel in you making sure nothing came out, “fuckin hell”.

After the intensity of the moment subsided, Simon and you lay there in the aftermath, the room now quiet except for your shared breathing. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “I didn’t plan for this,” Simon said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and affection. “I never wanted to cross that line.” You turned to face him, your own emotions swirling. “Neither did I, but… it felt right in the moment. I just want to know what this means for us.” Simon looked at you with a conflicted expression. “I don’t have all the answers. This situation is complicated, and I’m still trying to figure out how to balance my feelings with my responsibilities.” he says lowly “I understand,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “I just need to know where we stand. Do you want to try and make this work, or is this something we need to move past?” There was a pause as Simon considered his words. “I care about you more than I should,” he admitted. “But I also need to focus on keeping you safe. We’ll have to navigate this carefully.” You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said, squeezing his hand.

“As long as we’re honest with each other.”

[itsswritten]

Threads of Hazel

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Angst, blood, gore, injuries, hints of death.

Summary: A mating bond can connect those who have not even met, but can it save them too?

All that welcomed you was the cold, splodges of darkness filtering in your distorted vision.

Time seemed to stretch and contract in the void, a dizzying whirl of uncertainty. How long had it been? Weeks? Months? Perhaps even longer.

No one was coming.

Why had you dared to hope? 

It was that gentle hazel glow that danced behind closed eyelids that had stirred within you. A glimmer of something that felt worthy of holding onto. Something to believe in.

But it must have been a trick of the mind, a cruel illusion born from the depths of insanity. 

No one was coming. No one ever would.

Maybe it was time to give up.

Time to surrender to the abyss, to let go of the tenuous thread that bound you to consciousness. As you teetered on the edge of oblivion, a fleeting sensation brushed against your senses, a whisper of familiarity.

You could smell it, faint and distant yet unmistakable. 

Night-chilled mist and cedar. 

It was that scent again. But like a wisp of smoke on the wind, it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving your senses grasping at shadows in the void.

Another wicked false sense of hope. Your mind must be creating delusions as it comes close to its end.

No one was coming.

It was time to let go.

***

This was the last location. And then they’d go home. 

Finally.

Azriel straightened his posture, rolling back his shoulders with a weary sigh. His wings unfurled and then tucked in against his back. He felt anchored, weighed down, by the silent burdens he was carrying. Even his shadows were slumped against him, as if they were also affected by his fatigue.

Azriel was utterly exhausted.

Despite Cassian's concerned pleas for him to stay behind and rest, Azriel couldn't bring himself to heed them. The ache in his bones and the weight of exhaustion pulling at his limbs were nothing compared to the thought of letting Feyre and his brother face this mission alone. 

He was Spymaster of the Night Court, he would fulfil his duties regardless of his own welfare. Regardless of the demons that weighed on him.

But these demons of his, had been plaguing him for months. Clear in the dark offset look of his gaze, and the purple shadows that sat beneath his eyes– he was a tormented soul. 

The aftermath of the war had etched its scars deep into Azriel. It was a sensation he was all too familiar with, the fallout of anguish and slaughter, had always defined his life. But in recent months, his demons seemed to be haunting him more fiercely than usual, their whispers echoing in the silence of the night.

For months, Azriel had been plagued by a recurring dream, a nightmare he assumed. Because as much as he tried he couldn’t recall the details. Each time he would wake from the depths of his sleep, finding himself drenched in a clammy sheen of sweat, his chest heaving attempting to draw in air as though a claw was clenched around his lungs. 

But that is all that would linger.

A feeling, no memory of what had caused this reaction within him. No clue as to why his body shivered in fear when he woke. 

It was a maddening cycle, the dream hovering just beyond the edges of his consciousness. Clearly haunting in nature and yet elusive. Each day felt like a puzzle with a missing piece, the memory of something crucial lurking just beyond reach.

So close, and yet not close enough. And it was driving him mad.

In a desperate attempt to break free from that grip, he tried avoiding sleep altogether. Yet, that feeling persisted. A restless energy coursing beneath his skin. It was relentless, a constant reminder– that he was forgetting something of importance.

And that feeling terrified him. Azriel had always known most, metalicus with his gathering of intel and information. Skilled in deciphering most people and their thoughts. But his own mind had him at a loss. He was no Spymaster of his own consciousness, simply a male who couldn’t sleep because of a nightmare.

Feyre, Cassian and Azriel had embarked on the final leg of their scouting mission. Despite the passing of time since the war's end, new pockets of Hybern loyalists still cropped up. The three of them were tasked with weeding out any lingering enemies. They had arrived at the last location Azriel’s intel had unearthed. A manor house on the skirts of the borders, had whispered rumours to be a base for some Hybern stragglers.

Derelict and crumbling, the building seemed to sag under the weight of its own deterioration, its once-majestic features now reduced to a skeletal framework of crumbling stone and splintered wood. The scars of fire marred its surface, meaning any valuable pieces of information that might have once resided within its walls had long since been burnt. Nothing but charred remnants and ash laid in their wake.

They had been too late, but they still had to check nonetheless. 

"All clear from up above," Cassian announced, his voice cutting through the silence as he landed beside Feyre, who had just reentered what remained of the foyer. She had meticulously scouted the left wing of the building, while Azriel had taken the right.

"Clear here too," Feyre confirmed with a nod, her eyes scanning the dimly lit space for any signs of danger.

Azriel soon joined them. His part of the search had also yielded no immediate threats. Cassian stood beside his brother, kicking some burnt debris with his foot while mumbling that it was a shame Hybern’s men had burnt this place. That it was such a waste. But Azriel wasn’t listening. 

Running his rough hand down his face, he let out a heavy sigh. A very clear tell that he was not okay. Something Azriel never showed. But he could feel it again, under his skin. Pinching at him. Something faint in this chest, weighed and sliced, only to subside to a dull ache.

He felt uneasy, as he had for months but there was something about this place that had shaken a deepness within his gut. Even his shadows fluttered nervously around him.

Maybe he would need to see Madja when he got home. Or maybe even relinquish his pride, and ask Rhys for help.

“Let’s get this checked over quickly, and then head home. It’s been a long mission,” Feyre spoke softly, offering both males encouraging smiles as she gestured towards the back of the building. 

Feyre’s eyes settled on Azriel, giving him a reassuring look. For a moment Azriel almost let her in, he had noticed the concerned looks and touches his family had given him. Growing more and more these recent weeks. Instead though, he nodded softly following the pair into the back room. 

They descended down grand stairs, into the lower levels of the house. Each step he took echoed through the empty remnants of the building, every move feeling heavier and weightier. They were hit with a chill when they reached the bottom. In the absence of natural light, Feyre conjured small orbs of illumination, casting soft, flickering light that bobbed across the dark space. The feeble glow revealed crumbling walls and decaying remnants of furniture, similar to what they had seen upstairs. 

The air was heavy with the scent of decay and mildew, but there was something metallic that lingered.

Blood.

They could smell blood. And there was something else too. Perfumy and chemical.

Faebane. 

Tensions rose as they all hesitated on their weapons, Azriel’s fingers gingerly hovering over Truth Teller as they stepped deeper within the space. Azriel's shadows flickered and swirled around him, their movements erratic and unsettling. They sensed something lurking in the darkness, something that sent a shiver down his spine.

There was this haunting apprehension washing over Azriel as if he had been here before. He couldn’t quite place it, couldn’t quite pinpoint why he didn’t feel like a stranger in this room.

As though he had been here many times before and yet this was still his first time here. That gnawing began deep in his gut again as his fingers gripped at his dagger.

He heard Feyre gasp loudly, before his eyes quickly scanned to see what her light had revealed. 

A figure, barely recognisable in the dim light, hung limply from chains fastened to the wall, body gaunt and ravaged by torture. Steel rods protruded from flesh, each one coated in the deadly poison of faebane, its sickly scent permeating the air.

Feyre's hands flew to her mouth in horror, her eyes wide with disbelief and revulsion. "Is she..." her voice trailed off, unable to voice the question that hung in her mind. She had to stop herself from gagging, as the contents of her stomach threatened to spill up her throat.

Even Cassian, veteran of countless battles and witness to nearly every injury imaginable, could not conceal the grimace that tugged at his lips. They all took a moment to absorb the sight before them, Azriel remaining motionless as he processed the scene. The sensation from earlier still persisted, but now intensifying as Azriel's gaze fell upon the steel rod protruding from the body's chest, a sharp pang jolting through his own.

Azriel staggered, overcome by a sudden wave of agony that seized him, breaths ragged and uneven. Feyre moved swiftly to his side, her hand offering comfort as she implored about his well-being, but his attention was elsewhere.

He wasn’t listening to Feyre, he was listening to his shadows.

Alive.

They were pulsating beside him, waiting for his orders, waiting to be released, begging to be released.

Azriel clutched his chest, mustering his strength to stand straighter, the pain subsiding for now as he took a hesitant step closer, 

Alive, alive, alive.

They whispered frantically this time, their urgency desperate.

Then Azriel saw it. The faint rise and fall of your chest, the subtle rhythm of your heartbeat still persisting against all odds.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat, his mind struggling to process the sight before him.

How? How were you still alive?

He wasn't the only one to notice. Cassian, wasted no time in springing into action, his voice commanding as he instructed them to release you from your chains, to get you the urgent help you needed. Both Feyre and Cassian, mentally calling to Rhys to be ready with Madja.

But Azriel was frozen in place, his senses honed in on the fragile thread of life that still clung to you. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched, his chest constricting with an overwhelming emotion.

He remembered. 

The sight before him wasn’t new. No, he had seen this. Seen you before. Felt this way every night for months. 

It was you whom he had been forgetting when he woke, the haunting echo of your desperate pleas vibrating in his mind. As he watched your body slump to the floor, freed from the chains that had bound you, Azriel struggled to push back the flood of visions that threatened to overwhelm him.

Visions of you, screaming, pleading for someone to help you.

Begging him to come save you.

How could he have forgotten? Your cries had pierced through the darkness, reaching out to him night after night.

A plea for salvation had rippled down the thread that seemed to connect you.

That thread.

That power that had subconsciously been connecting you both for months began to hum. Louder and brighter than anything Azriel had ever felt before.

It was a realisation, a confirmation to what he had been feeling for all that time. The golden warmth finally settled under his bones, consuming all his senses.

The mating bond.

You were his mate.

Something that was supposed to be so cherished, felt incredibly bittersweet as he watched your near dead form be pulled into Cassian’s arms.

He could feel your pain seeping through the bond, in fact that is what he had been feeling all those weeks. Your suffering leaking its way down to Azriel. Your pleas reaching him in the depths of his sleep.

He had a mate, finally.

And yet when he pulled gently on that faint thread that linked you to him, he could feel it fading.

Maybe he was too late.

***

A bright white light filled your vision, its touch lining your body slowly.

It was time. You were ready.

But just as you were on the brink of surrender, a golden warmth surged forth, wrapping around you like a protective shield. It tugged at you, pulling you back, refusing to let you go.

Not now, not yet. It spoke.

You resisted, clinging stubbornly to the edge of oblivion, but the pull of that hazel glow was undeniable.

Let me go. It hurts. I want to leave. Your soul cried towards the glow.

The hazel glow called out to you with a familiarity that stirred something deep within your soul.

I won’t let you go. Not now, not now that I have you. 

You couldn’t understand. You heard no voice, yet you felt every word.

I need you to fight, for yourself, for me, fight harder than you ever have done and I promise, after this, you will never have to fight again.

Why those words had some sway over you, you weren’t sure. But when your senses filled with that comforting scent you had smelt every night for the past months. It tethered you, anchoring you in the physical realm once more.

You could smell it again, night-chilled air and cedar.

You would hold onto it one last time.

***

Agonising screams filled the air as you writhed in pain on the makeshift table. Your body contorting, fingers clawing desperately at the gaping wound in your chest. Even in the dim light, Azriel could see the blood, thick and crimson oozing through your fingers as you had lurched up when Cassian had pulled the poison coated rod from your chest.

They had managed to remove some while you were unconscious, but the pain of this one, deep in your chest, had yanked you awake. How you were still alive none of them understood. Your injuries and body filled with enough faebane to kill a dozen fae. 

Your vision was still distorted. Just one of the injuries that ravaged your body. Only blurry shapes and figures filled your sight, and the lack of that sense only added to your fear. You couldn’t see who you were with, and although they didn’t sound like your captors, you didn’t know them. Didn’t trust them, and they were hurting you.

Even if they repeatedly told you they were helping you, their touch just brought more pain.

Madja flitted around Cassian, her hands hovering over the faebane-drenched wounds in a futile attempt to heal. Azriel stood at the head of the table, crouched down close as he firmly held one of your arms down. His shadows fidgeted uneasily around him, reflecting his inner turmoil. He had witnessed countless horrors in his life, some inflicted upon himself, but seeing his mate in such agony was a new level of torment. 

Feeling the pain trickling down the bond was tearing him apart.

“Stop, stop. Please…” Your plea was raw, your voice strained and hoarse from the agony that wracked your body. Azriel shuddered at your tone, your voice an echo of the nightmares that had haunted him for endless nights. 

He remembered it all now.

Each night, stumbling through darkness, trying to follow that golden bond to you. To your calls for him. And each time, he tried to figure out where you were, how to get to you, how to save you only to forget everything when he woke. His memory of you slipping through his fingers like sand. 

“Rhys, there must be something you can do,” he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation as he looked over your pained expression.

Feyre had diligently wiped the blood from your face, revealing slashes across your eyes. Remarkably, Madja seemed optimistic about their healing potential, though it was contingent upon your survival. He could feel your fear rippling down the bond, how frightened and in pain you were.

“Azriel…my power, I can’t penetrate her mind. The faebane has saturated her body, creating an impenetrable barrier,” Rhys responded. “I’m sorry brother…I’m truly sorry.”

Azriel couldn’t contain the small whispered sob that escaped him, his hand flying to his mouth to stifle the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

When Cassian had carried you from that dark basement, Azriel had acted on instinct, snatching you carefully from his brother's arms and holding you close. He whispered into your ear, a litany of apologies for not finding you sooner, for the pain you endured. He begged you to fight, to hold on for him. And had clung to that faint glimmer of hope as he returned to the safety of the River House.

Rhys had prepared a table for Madja to work on, but neither of them had anticipated the extent of your injuries.

Azriel had laid you on the table, still unconscious as he nervously watched Rhys and Madja try their best. Cassian and Feyre joining them moments later to help. 

It was then they had all realised.

He was fussing over you, whispering frantically and his shadows had been skittishly tracing over your body and injuries. So unlike the usual calm and collected Spymaster.

Rhys had pieced it together first. Simply stating She’s your mate into Azriel’s mind. Although it was clear by the heartbreaking expressions on his family's faces, they were all aware of the significance you held.

Azriel felt helpless, he couldn’t lessen your anguish, couldn’t heal you, couldn’t do anything.

Your sobbing started again, while you writhed under their strong hands. Pleading for release. Instead, they responded with reassurances and hushed whispers, and there was one voice in particular that washed over you in a familiarity you didn’t understand.

You fought against them, resisting their attempts to restrain you, but they were stronger. Another wave of agony rippled through you as they worked to remove one of the steel bars embedded within your flesh.

“Focus, Shadowsinger,” Madja's voice cut through the turmoil, her gaze landing on him firmly.

“The best course of action is to remove these rods and then attempt to drain the faebane from her system. Her resilience is remarkable, but she won’t survive much longer without intervention.” Madja was speaking directly to Azriel now, he took a second to look down at you crying on the table. Cassian and Rhys holding you down, while they calculated removing the next impalement. 

Madja continued, “If you want to help her, comfort her, support her.” The instructions were clear.

Feyre spoke then, glancing between your pained form and then to Azriel. “Use the bond Az, she needs you.”

With hesitation, Azriel’s rough hand found yours. Holding it tightly. Grooves and lines were etched into his weathered skin, speaking of his own past battles. Instinctively you wanted to recoil from the stranger's touch, but as you felt another pull on your torso you clutched down on his hand tightly. Another sob racking through you.

You felt him close to you now, his presence enveloping you as his warm breath brushed across your face. He was close to you. But you couldn’t make out who he was. Only a blurred version of a male with tan skin and dark hair. His other hand grazed your cheek, offering you a comfort you hadn’t felt in months. 

“I need you to fight just a little longer,” the voice was deep and warm, there was something about it or maybe it was the words he had chosen that felt familiar. 

“It hurts..” you whispered, another sob leaving your lips.

"I know, I know it does...but not much longer, okay? And then you can rest, I promise," he reassured you, igniting a flicker of hope within you despite the overwhelming pain.

Then Azriel pulled gently on the bond sending ripples of reassurance and comfort down the link. So much that he hoped to drown any pain out you were feeling.

You felt that golden warmth fill your chest, that same feeling that had pulled you from the white abyss many times before.

"It's you..." Your voice choked with emotion, the realisation dawning upon you.

Azriel stood there, uncertain of how to respond, but he watched as you turned toward him, your brows furrowed in concentration. Though your vision remained distorted, blurred colours danced before you, and amidst the haze of black and deep tan, you saw it—the faint glimmer of hazel.

"You came for me..."

"Always..." Azriel's voice cracked with emotion, his unwavering commitment laid bare.

With the last of the rods removed, your body bled profusely. Madja urged caution, while Feyre urgently advocated to cauterise the wounds. But with this amount of faebane, they grappled with the best course of action. Their voices melding in a flurry of noise.

A soft, sad smile graced your lips, your hand reaching out to touch the figure before you, feeling the contours of his cheek beneath your fingertips.

Blood began to fill your mouth, the red liquid seeping through your smile. The bitter taste staining your words. Azriel began to shake his head, clinging to that fading bond with all his strength. With a pained slowness, he felt your hand slip from his cheek, leaving a blood-stained print upon his skin.

"You were real..." Your voice was barely a whisper now, breaths shallow. "My thread of hazel."

a/n: ngl I don't love this lol, doesn't feel like my best work but sometimes it's better posted than perfect! I had originally planned for this to be longer, but writers slump has me in a chokehold so this is all I managed! Anywho, hope you enjoyed the angst! <3 - Lottie Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

[tadpolesonalgae]

Melting[*]

Rhysand x reader

a/n: This has been on my mind for so long it’s so unfair 🥞

warnings: nipple play, Rhys’s mouth, reader kinda being in sub-space? Definitely getting put in it at least, very soft Rhysand, very overstimulated reader

word count: 1,788

——————————————————————————————————————————————

You peek into his office, gripping the door to lean on as you poke your head into the open room. 

Violet eyes flick upward, and you’re sensitive enough that your breath catches, spotting that adoring twinkle in his gaze as it meets your own. 

“Darling?” He asks, the low roll of his voice having your thighs press together lightly, and you glance away briefly, slightly embarrassed. “Do you have a moment?” You ask, managing to force yourself to look him in the eyes. “Maybe a bit longer than a moment, actually. It’s fine if not,” you add hurriedly, noting the papers on his desk. 

His brows quirk with interest, lips curving subtly as he leans back in his chair, resting his hands over the arms as a heat enters his eyes. “I always have moments for you,” he replies reassuringly, his gaze practically beckoning you forward. “Come here,” he murmurs, and you flush at the tone—he’s always been able to read you extraordinarily well, knowing how to speak with you and what you’re wanting in that moment. 

Throat rolling, you step into his office, and Rhys’s eyes twinkle as you firmly shut the door at your back, before moving deeper into the room, padding over to him. His fingers flex lightly and you imagine he’d like to touch you but is deciding against it due to your obvious skittishness. You didn’t think something so sweet would have such an intense heat gathering in your lower belly, but here you are. 

“Now, why don’t you tell me what this is about?” Rhys muses, and warmth flushes your skin, before hesitantly stepping closer between his long legs as you tentatively settle your palms over his broad shoulders. Rhys reads the permission, at last shifting his hands to your body, grazing up the outside of your thighs, curving over the sweep of your hips and pausing there, thumbs stroking in gently soothing circles. 

“I…” you begin, but even thinking about voicing it has the sensitivity stopping you, the kind of need you have driving you quietly insane. Rhys hums lowly, encouragingly, but it only adds to the wild heat between your thighs, and you’re certain he can scent how badly you need him—might even be able to taste it, for how intense your scent is becoming, filling the air thickly. 

Teeth push into the soft inner part of your lower lip, fingers pressing into his shoulders lightly as you glance away, tightening around nothing but needing him so acutely you feel like you might crumble. So instead you wrap your fingers around his wrist—partially, at least—meeting his eyes as you guide his hand up your body, settling his palm over your right breast. 

The moment you feel him your breath catches, vision flickering a little as your lungs stutter, lips parting as you press into him more, so relieved to have the sensitivity being soothed. Heat wraps itself around your mind, pushing away the previous embarrassment as you look at him longingly, hand moving to settle over his as you step even closer. “Please, Rhys,” you breathe softly, fingers already intertwining with his free hand at your hip. “I’ll do anything,” you murmur, dizzying heat flushing your body as he runs his thumb over your breast, the feeling so intense despite the clothing between you. “So please, don’t…don’t tease… Not now.” 

The adoring hunger in his violet eyes as he watches you has you desperate for more, to have his bare skin against your own, to curl up into him while he lets his hands wander, anything to relieve the acute need you’re experiencing. His expression is soft, if a little mischievous, and his hold on your hip pulls you closer. “How could I deny a plea like that?” He murmurs, lips curving as you exhale heavily. 

It’s all you need before you’re stepping away a little in order to rid yourself of your top, fingers catching at the hem as you hurriedly pull it off over your head, dropping it somewhere before returning to him, practically crawling into his lap as your knees settle either side of him on the intentionally large chair—he’d been prepared for something like this to happen. Your hands shakily cup his jaw as your mouth slants over his own, both your eyes fluttering shut as you fall into the kiss, lips moving slowly but desperately. 

You gasp when his hands both come up to cup your breasts, breathing becoming slightly heavier and Rhys takes the chance to gently ply your lips further apart, tongue flicking hotly against your own and you moan sweetly for him. Your fingers shake as he thumbs across your breasts, the pads of his digits almost lazily brushing the hypersensitive peaks of your nipples and you have to pull away from the kiss, head lowered in attempts to instinctively hide the the expression of desperation that’s surely on your features. 

“Look at me, darling,” Rhys instructs gently, and you can’t bring yourself to deny him, meeting his adoring gaze. “Rhys,” you pant, though it comes out closer to a moan, hands shifting to run through his silky, blue-black hair. “Gods…Rhys, please,” you beg softly, looking at him pleadingly, hands stroking through his hair in supplication.

Rhys’ lips curve, and then he’s leaning forward and breath gets caught in your lungs as his mouth latches over one of your nipples. Your mouth parts, brows curving as your eyes flutter shut as the delightful warmth soothes the need that had been quietly buzzing beneath your skin. “Rhys…” you whisper, practically cradling his head in your hands as your spine curves, offering your chest in the hopes he’ll continue. You’ll cry if he pulls away. 

The tip of his tongue flicks over your nipple, lips sealed gently over your breast and you feel a pressure behind your eyes. Oh gods…oh gods… You pant softly as he circles the unfairly sensitive peak, managing to peek your eyes open enough to lock with softened violet. His thumb grazes your other breast, and you feel something hot and liquid spill down your cheek. 

Happy? His voice gently echoes through your mind, and you stroke his hair attentively, brushing your fingers through the raven locks, feelings as though words are from another realm entirely. Amusement and affection flickers through his gaze, and you swallow as he runs the flat of his tongue soothingly over your nipple, pulling away only briefly to shift you in his arms, and you can make out how the skin is gleaming, freshly-licked. 

Goosebumps scatter over your body at the movement—his mouth switching to the other breast, hand coming up to continue stimulating you while his free one snakes around your hip, dipping between your thighs, and you think you start trembling as the pads of his fingers brush between your legs. 

Don’t stop, you think to him, unaware of the thoughts singing across the bond. Don’t stop…please…don’t ever stop… 

He hums softly, and your eyes flutter, rolling slightly from the rich drag of his voice. Again the tip of his tongue flicks over the unfairly sensitive peak of your breast before circling lightly, flattening over your nipple as he licks gently, taking care to keep his teeth to himself. He experiments a little, removing his thumb from swiping across your breast and instead capturing your nipple between his middle and index finger, lightly squeezing, rolling the peak between his digits, paying close attention to your reactions. 

You inhale deeply, another tear dripping down as you moan sweetly, giving him as much of your own affection as you can manage, given your overstimulated state. 

Carefully, he circles your nipple with the pad of his middle finger, making sure not to apply too much pressure, to keep his touch soft and light so it feathers across your skin, oscillating like he does over your clit in the way he might if he were looking to tease you for something. But over your breast it’s nothing short of perfect, combined with the gentle but diligent strokes of his tongue and the way he’s rubbing between your legs…even through the thin fabric of your underwear, you know it’ll be more than enough. 

“Rhys…” his name slips from your lips, hot and breathless as you pant, looking so out of it he has half a mind to take you to bed and spend the rest of the day worshipping your pretty nipples. 

A few more stray tears are pushed from your lashes as you come, the orgasm blossoming through your body in gentle pulses rather than crashing waves, and your body turns soft and pliant beneath his touch—beneath his mouth. You’re unaware of his name repeating on your tongue, echoing across the bond, unable to think of a single other thing except his name, and Rhys struggles a little to keep from pulling you down into his lap so he can grind against your sex. 

You’re flushed and panting once the pleasure begins to fade, fingers remaining in his thick, silky hair, occasionally stroking when you can manage the effort. 

Rhys watches you quietly, still gently soothing his tongue over your breast, palm covering your other to make sure you don’t feel even the slightest bit of cold. 

Happy? He repeats into your mind, eyes twinkling and you swallow heavily before managing a faint nod, still reeling from sensitivity. Incredibly, you reply, settling down into his lap as he removes his hand, instead being able to now feel the hot press of him against your centre. I’m sorry, you think to him, fresh warmth rising to your cheeks, you didn’t cum. 

His thumb grazes over your nipple, causing your breath to catch at the stimulation. 

Don’t say things like that to me, he replies lowly, shadowy voice dragging through the soft interior of your mind. Why not? You ask tentatively, hips shifting over his own almost shyly. I want you to—

Don’t finish that, he cuts you off, able to hear the breathless note in his request. 

Your eyes lock with his own, barely suppressed hunger lazing in his violet gaze. You know, I said I’d do anything, you begin quietly, so, if you want… Rhys groans softly, pleasurable mouth raising so his lips brush your own, able to feel the soft caress of breath. You wouldn’t be leaving my bed if I had my way with you, he thinks earnestly, tipping into the soft touch of your fingers as they again stroke through his hair. 

That’s fine by me, you return, lips grazing his own, again shifting over his hips. I wouldn’t have offered anything if I hadn’t wanted to.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

[ghost-proofbaby]

okay no but bbf!perv!eddie unable to stop his hand from lingering a liiiitttle too long on your skin after he slaps the tattoo. obv he cant do anything too rough (although he would give anything to just be able to dig his fingers in to the soft skin there), but that's almost WORSE because instead you're aware of every one of his fingers on your overly sensitive skin, the warmth of his palm against your stinging ass, both soothing and burning at the same time

he doesn't even realise he's doing it, and you peek over your shoulder and nearly get a jumpscare at just how intense he looks - eyes fixed on where he's touching you, the boy is practically vibrating from holding himself back

HELPPPPPP

he should probably pull away.

he knows he should. he’s well aware his touch has long out-lingered its welcome on your warm skin. but he can’t. he tells his hand to drop, to come back to him, to just fall anywhere else but your ass — all his fingers do in response are curl into the flesh, feeling the soft muscle beneath his joints and his breath catch painfully between his ribs.

all he can do is squeeze softly and stare at where his skin is meeting yours. all he can do is continue to take abnormally deep breaths, teetering on the verge of gasping as his stare starts to burn hotter than where he’d slapped your skin.

“e-eddie?”

you’re all nervous laughter and wide eyes, and it almost makes it worse when you stutter out his name. somewhere between a plea and a sigh, falling between the raveens of asking him to stop touching you and begging him to never stop.

“sorry,” he whispers, but his hand doesn’t move.

“can you…” can you move your hand? can you stop driving me insane? can you stop looking at me like some helpless prey and igniting this damned warmth in my belly that is 10 seconds from turning this entire friendship to ash? “can you do it again?”

eddie munson’s heart officially stops. the last and hardest beat of it echoes in his silent chest and he’s looking up at you wildly, stunned, quietly. for the first time since he’s met you, his tongue has become a foreign and heavy object not fit for his instruction.

and you take his silence as a no. you take his silence as you pushing too far and projecting one too many fantasie onto him for a final time. you take his lack of response as a you just fucked everything up, idiot.

“i’m- fuck, i’m sorry,” you start, “forget i ask-“

“again?”

his hand finally moves, and it’s trailing down now, fingers dancing along the back of your thigh in unsure movements. not ready to no longer feel you. not ready to leave the moment.

piqued interest, palpable curiosity, buzzing eagerness — there’s not one sliver of disgust in his tone.

it’s the only reason you’re brave enough to wear a fragile smile as you nod, cheek lowering to the pillow as you say it more surely this time, “again.”

this time, the slap is more deliberate.

and this time, it lands where you want it. between the apex of your thighs, stinging in a way far more pleasurable than before, making you cry out a bit more surely this time.

maybe it’s his sudden smirk. maybe it’s his dark eyes. or maybe it’s that goddamn tent in his pants and the wet spot he can’t hide from you.

yeah. he’ll do it again. he’ll do it as many times as you ask for it, because this time, he gets it.

you both get it.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of smut prompts

“So how do you want me to fuck you?”

“I’m not sharing you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and I’m going to make you remember that.”

“That’s sweet and all but do they touch you the way I touch you? Fuck you the way I fuck you? Mm, yeah, didn’t think so.”

A softly spoken, “Want you to fuck me like you mean it.” 

“Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll do the work.”

“Gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.”

“Can I… can I touch you?”

“My God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.” 

“Can I— can I please touch myself?”

“Wanna see how you look when you come undone under me.” 

“I’ll make you feel good, I promise. Just trust me.”

“You sound/taste/feel/look so fucking good.”

“Oh God, you feel amazing, baby.” 

A whispered “Please” slipping out of kiss bitten lips. 

“Mine. All mine.”

“You drive me so insane, you don’t even know.”

“I love getting to know you like this.” 

“You. Me. Bed. Clothes off. Now.” 

“Is this okay?” 

“How much do you want this?”

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.” 

“Shh, just a little more…” 

“You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“Say please.” 

“I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you.”

“Tell me how you want me.”

Soft whines and whimpers; held back noises because they don’t want anyone else hearing them; a plea for more without the use of words. 

“Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now.” 

“Wanna hear you beg for it, yeah?”  

“Where do you want me to touch you?” “I don’t know and I don’t care — I just want your hands on me. Please.”

“P-please just”—a sob—“I just need you to fuck me.” 

“Need/want you in me.”

“Beg and maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Not so fast, bun.” 

“So… You touch yourself to the thought of me? I’d like to see that in action.”  

“Want your fingers in me.” 

“Now, why don’t we teach you a lesson?” 

“Touch yourself for me.”

“Tell me how you like/want/need it.” 

“I wanna taste you on my lips again.”

It’s the gentle and soft touches which send shivers skittering down their spine. 

“Rough or gentle?” 

“Fuck, look at you right now…”

“You’re really messing with my head here.”

“Fuck, just touch me already! Just— just do something!” “Not so fast. We’ve still got the whole night/day ahead of us.”

“Wanna feel you against me.”

“Don’t wanna come until I feel you in me.”

“Clothes on or clothes off?” 

“All yours. Only yours.”

“How about we put that pretty mouth of yours into good use, hm?” 

“Fuck, I need/want you so bad.”

“I want you to say my name like that again.” 

“Aren’t you desperate?” 

“Only I get to ruin you like this, you hear me?”

“Only I get to touch you like this, okay?” 

“Patience, love. We’re getting there.” 

“Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only for me.”

“Be good for me.” 

“You want to come?” “Y-yes, I— please—” “Hm, but do you really deserve to?” 

“You like that, don’t you?” 

“Let’s make your thoughts a reality, yeah?”

“Imagine how amazing you’d sound when I’m fucking you senseless.” 

“I’ll fuck you so good, I promise.” 

“I can taste myself on your lips and it’s messing me up real bad.” 

“You look like a mess and I love it, because I’m the one who made you like this.” 

“You’ve got me all hot and bothered.”

“You don’t get to touch yourself until I say so.” 

“Always so needy for me, aren’t you? Can’t help yourself, can you?” 

“Please let me come.” 

“I-I promise I’ll be good.” 

“How are you feeling?” 

“God, you feel so good around me.” 

“So wet/hard for me already, huh?”

“You good?”

“Mm, always so impatient for me, aren’t you?”

“Do I turn you on that much?” “You don’t even fucking know.” 

“You wanna take control?”

“Let me ride you.”

“Behave.” 

“F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone more.” 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Stop fucking teasing me and get to it already.” 

“Oh, the things I’d do to you if we were alone right now…”

“Th-There are people outside this door—” “Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” 

“Look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. Can’t even take a little teasing, can you?”

“Yeah, but they don’t fuck you the way you deserved to be fucked, do they?” 

“Might I remind you that these walls aren’t sound proof.” 

A softly exhaled, “I don’t think I can ever get enough of you.” 

“Do you know how much I love seeing you like this?” 

“How do you want me to touch you?” 

“Let me show you how much I mean what I say.”

“Gonna make sure you don’t forget about tonight.” 

Whispered praises against the other’s lips, which are met with soft whimpers and moans. 

“Need me to remind you on what happened last night?” 

“Oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?” 

In a hoarse whisper, “Fuck, you’re killing me here.” 

“But you think about me when they’re fucking you, don’t you?” “I… That’s not true.” 

“Try not to be so noisy, yeah?” 

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” 

“Lift your hips up for me.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re bossy.”

“Look at you, coming undone before I’ve even started touching you.” 

“Stop glaring at me like you don’t enjoy me teasing you.”

“I want to be the one fucking you this time.” 

“Sweetheart, you’re so responsive to my touch.”

“I think you’d look even better under me.” 

“And I think you’d look fucking hot when you’re on top of me.” 

“Want you to ruin me.” 

“Do whatever you want with me.” 

“Just sit on my fucking face already.” 

“Who gave you permission to touch yourself?”

“What did I just say?”

“You feel so fucking good in me.” 

“You can have all of me if that’s what you want.” 

“Baby—shit—I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the bed like this.”

“Tell me if it becomes too much, okay?” “Okay.” 

“S-Stop leaving marks on my neck. I have a presentation first thing in the morning.” “Then I get to leave marks anywhere below the neck?”

“Let me make you feel good this time?” 

“You only get to watch.” “B-but—” “No buts, sweetheart.” 

“I’d fuck you right here, right now, if I could.” 

“Let’s take it back to my place.”

“Are we— are we really going to do this here?”

“Turn around.” 

“You look so cute like this, you know?” “Shut the fuck up and just fuck me already.” 

“Why’d you stop?” “Because you sounded too fucking good and so I had like, a moment.” 

“I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Eyes on me at all times, sweetheart.” 

“I wanna eat you out so fucking bad.” “Then why don’t you?”

“Spread your legs for me.” … “Spread them wider.” 

Hands firm on their thighs, keeping them from snapping them shut. 

“I’m not done with you yet.” 

A whispered, “Then come for me,” right next to their ear after they beg for release through tears and soft whimpers, because they’ve been edged for way too long. 

“Admit it — you want this as much as I do.” 

“I’ll be honest: I get off to the thought of you.” 

“No one does it like you.”

“Christ, I wanna fuck you so bad.” “You’ll get to do that once we get home.” 

“I want you in the most sinful ways possible.” 

“Need a hand?” 

“Aww, how eager can you get?” 

“I want you to touch me like I’m the only thing you could ever want.” 

“Can’t— can’t you go faster than this?” 

“You like messing with my head, don’t you?” “Only because it clearly turns you on.”

“B-But what about you?” “We can worry about me later. It’s all about you right now.”

“Shit, I’m so fucking hooked on you it’s not even funny.”

“You’d sound so good begging for it.”

“Fuck, you have such a tight hold on me, you don’t even know.” 

“Don’t make too many noises or we’ll get caught.” “That’s part of the thrill.”

“I don’t care, I just need these clothes off so I can fully feel you against me.” 

“You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted so badly.” 

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 25 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

“Surrender to me. I will eat this sweet pussy every morning for breakfast. I will be your slave.”

You don’t believe him, of course, but there is a growing desperation in his pleas that fills you with warning. He’s been patient with you, but you wonder if someday this man will not snap.

He has you tied up again.

You’d watched him produce the red ropes earlier with resignation, but surprisingly, no fear. You realize that you have arrived at a place of relative numb, where you have accepted he will not satisfy you without your submission, but you trust him not to really hurt you.

Drive you absolutely batshit insane, maybe. But not hurt you.

You’ve had time to think about it, and you know there are so many things he could have done by now to really win your compliance. He could have beat you. Starved you. Drugged you. All the usual dirty tricks men have used to keep independent women in line over the millennia.

He has not so much as spanked you, really, except for that once the other day, and even you know that had been child’s play.

More and more, you have come to understand that this man has been through it. He’s told you more about his brutal past, curled up with his head in your lap, spilling his soul to you while you stroked his dark hair. You have discovered that once he feels safe, the taciturn Mr. Wick actually has a lot to say.

If you hadn’t been sleeping beside him, the signs of PTSD might have escaped your notice. But after over a week in his non-stop company, you have woken beside him when he’s riddled with night terrors, his strong hands gripping your body hard enough to leave bruises. Sometimes he zones out, and you know he's not really seeing the room you're in. 

After hearing about his training (as a fucking child soldier!) and the things he had to do to survive over the years working for the Bratva, trapped in a cycle of violence he had little power to escape or control, you honestly think it’s a miracle that he’s come out of it as intact as he has—and goddamn if there isn’t a part of you that wonders if you cannot bring him back.

You should know better by now, than to think you can fix a man with your love. It’s a mistake you’ve made before, in your younger years, and you should know that nothing lies down that path but disappointment and heartbreak. But…what else do you have to do with your time?

Take up knitting?

You had watched him with a distant fascination, as he looped your wrists in the cord, securing them with beautiful knots before affixing your spread arms to the metal headboard. You had thought the curled iron design of the bed to be very pretty, but now you understand the form of it is perfect for knotting ropes in various positions.

You’re not sure how long he’s been torturing you with his tongue, bringing you right to the edge licking your clit with his fingers buried inside you, before withdrawing right at the last moment. He always fucking knows, even when you do your best to remain still as a stone. You have been going through your days in a constant state of low-burning arousal, perpetually wet with slick and uncomfortably swollen. You feel where his body has been every time you sit down, keenly aware of what he’s done, and what he hasn’t allowed you.  

“My poor darling,” he continues to taunt you, taking a break to nip at the inside of your thigh, your soft flesh already riddled with little bruises. “Why do this to yourself, when with three little words I could set you free?”

You cannot hold in your ragged sigh. “It’s kind of nostalgic really, just like my first boyfriend in high-school. Getting fucked constantly with no real hope of satisfaction…”

Wick responds to this with a snarl, the way you knew he would. Jesus Christ but his teeth are sharp. Suddenly he sucks at your clit with a vengeance, making you squirm and cry out in surprise. Of course he stops before you even have the chance to make use of the friction.

“I do not want to hear about the other men you’ve had in your life,” he cautions you. “I’m the only one who counts now.”

“Could have fooled me.”

When he gets on his knees with a dark look, you do feel some satisfaction. You’ve learned if you piss him off enough, he’ll try to punish you by taking his pleasure and leaving you hanging. At this point, you’re just relieved that it’s over.

“That smart mouth needs filling,” he growls, guiding his tip to your lips, and you let him fuck your face, sucking his glans messily with a swirl of your tongue the way you’ve learned drives him mad. The only time he catches a hint of teeth is not your fault, but his, in his enthusiasm for trying to shove his cock down your throat. It’s not long before he cums, spilling hot seed across your tongue. Some of it dribbles down your chin, and he wipes it across your lips with narrowed eyes, daring you to spit it out.

You’re foolhardy, but you’re not stupid. You lap it from his finger like a good girl, watching the post-orgasm glaze take over his midnight dark eyes.

The monster will be sated, for a little while.

You’ve bought yourself time, but no real relief.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 89

Part 1 Part 88

Listening to only one side of the conversation would drive Eddie insane if he wasn’t already. It’s worse because he’s not sure if Steve is even answering back. If he even can. Supergirl’s just vague enough that he can’t tell if she’s just trying to reassure a silent, suffocating Steve.

What if he’s still there, just choking? But, no. That was the Upside-Down. Now that the thing is here in Steve, is he still there at all? Or is he trapped in the small corner of his mind that he has left?

Still, Eddie chokes out a wet laugh when El’s lips tick up as she says, “Eddie calls me Supergirl.” She’ll always be his Supergirl. Even if she can’t help this time. 

She looks so young, even with the eyeliner smudged all around her eyes and the slicked back hair. In her black trench coat she’s badass and metal and so goddamn small Eddie wants to throw up about it.  

She’ll always be Supergirl. It hangs over her brows as a weight she carries, a weight they keep adding onto with every plea for help. 

All that drifts away when she asks, “how do we help?” That’s not a question you ask someone who can’t answer. The wait  between words stretches beyond credulity for Eddie. Everyone’s looking at Steve like he’ll open his mouth and speak. 

It’s El’s voice that cuts in. Eddie gasps with it. “Make you warm?”

His neck hurts with the speed he turns his head to meet Will’s gaze. “He likes it cold,” Will whispers. “That’s what he said.” 

Eddie opens his mouth, ready to speak before he thinks, but then El says, “I will save you,” voice floaty, like she’s waking up from a dream. “Stay here while we come.”

El’s removing the half-assed blindfold from her eyes when Eddie looks back toward her, smiling softly as she says, “he recognized me.”

Eddie, knee walks toward her, desperate and wanting. He can feel a bit of glass stuck in his knee, but he doesn’t stop. Can’t. “Stay where?” he demands, hands out like he wants to shake El before he curls them into stupid, futile fists. “Is he okay?”

“He is where he is last time,” El says before raising her hand and tapping the top of Steve’s head gently, running her fingers through his hair as she says, “but in here.”

It takes Eddie a second to connect “last time” to anything tangible. As usual, Will beats him.

“He’s in his closet?”

El nods. “Yes, with clothes.” She runs her fingers through Steve’s hair one final time before dropping her hand and standing. “He said to make him warm.”

“And that’ll fix him?” It’s Perkins who answers, clearly done with being left in the dark. Eddie can’t blame her. 

El stands, staring at Steve the whole time. It takes her too long to answer. “No, he will come back.” 

“Who’s he?” Perkins demands. Everyone else already knows. It’s written in the silence. In the way the van’s so silent that no one is even breathing. “Hello?”

“Gotta break the connection. Close the gate,” Wayne says. He’s gruff and quiet, looking down at El like he’d rather be anywhere else than asking a little girl for a little salvation. “Can you do it?”

El meets his eyes. Eddie wants to hug her, or strangle her, or stuff them all into his trunk and flee the state and hope that’s enough to save them. But then El nods, walking out of the van with too much purpose for anyone to stop her. She turns back around, looking at all of them stuffed into the too-small van. 

“I will close the gate,” she says, looking from face to face to face before asking, “where is Hop?”

“Oh, sweetie,” Mama Byers says, following her out of the van so she can engulf her in a hug El doesn’t return. “He was in the lab.”

El flinches back at the word “lab,” flinches back further when Lucas explains, halting and nervous about the Demodogs that had overrun it. Then something steals over her, resolves into a determination that shines. 

“I am going,” she says, ignoring Mama Byers beseeching hands as she turns and starts walking away, like she’s going to hike all the way there on foot. Frodo Baggins without even a Samwise Gamgee. 

Everyone flutters out of the van. Eddie stays by Steve and Will’s side,watching it all unfold. 

It’s Mike that gets her to stop because of course it is. “We’ll go with you!”

El turns around, hope shining in her eyes. Wayne cuts through it like a scalpel through vocal chords.

“No,” he says, quiet, but harsh enough to make El stumble back. Eddie can’t see his face, but his hands are raised placatingly in that same spooked horse stance he’d used a lot when Eddie first moved in with him, and then later, when Steve did, too. “None of ya kids are going with ‘er.”

All the kids protest except Max, who’s frowning between everyone, unsure of who’s side to stand on. 

“She can’t go alone!” Dustin says, putting his hands on his hips in a perfect imitation of Steve every time he’s on kid wrangling duty and fed up.

Wayne copies the stance, much more effectively at his stature, and replies, “I’m going with ‘er.” When Dustin opens his mouth to further complain, he turns away toward Barbara and asks, “don’t s’pose I can borrow your car?”

Barbara throws the keys toward him without a noise of complaint. Wayne walks toward El, looping his arm around her shoulders and leading her toward the car. “C’mon, kid,” he says, squeezing her into his side. “Gotta stop by the trailer for a couple a’ guns.”

El nods, looks back at them, meeting Eddie’s eyes to say, “keep him warm.”

Like the words break a spell on him, Eddie bolts from the van, tugging his connection on Steve to make sure he stays during their separation. Wayne almost loses his footing when Eddie barrels into his back, arms clutching at his chest tight enough to hurt.

“Stay safe, old man.”

Wayne huffs, reaching back to ruffle Eddie’s greasy hair. Eddie tucks his nose into Wayne’s neck, holds onto him for a second longer before letting go. 

Wayne doesn’t turn around, but he stands still just for a second, like he can still feel the warmth of Eddie’s arms. He sounds choked up when he says, “you too, son,” before walking away without turning back.

Eddie watches as the pair get in the car and drive away, feeling oddly bereft.

He’s got all these people now, who love him and he loves back. But Uncle Wayne was the first, always. 

He better come back. 

Part 90

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

The Aftermath

Previous chapter, next chapter

The colosseum practically erupted with disapproving shouts and comments, almost making the stone walls shake. The Gladiator that Geta had put to death was a long-time crowd favourite, although he was bested in the battle it was just assumed that he would be allowed to live, this complete disregard for the crowd’s opinion was not something that was expected. Geta stood at the edge of the balcony, you watched as he waved his hand dismissively at the crowd and returned to his seat next to you, that devilish grin still plastered on his face the entire time. Watching how commanding and powerful he was in this moment was like a sweet drug to you, you had never been so aroused by him, you bit your lip to stop yourself from letting out the soft moan that was threatening to tumble from your lips with such force that you broke the skin, causing you to bleed slightly, desperately trying to ignore the overwhelming desire you were now feeling, wishing for the games to finish so he could take you back to your palace, putting you in your rightful place, on your knees before him.

Geta swiftly finished a cup of wine as he sat down before turning to face you, his smile widened as he could see the fierce desire burning in your eyes. His eyes flitted quickly to your lips and saw how you caused your lip to bleed, a wicked glint flashed in his eyes as his hand came to your face, grasping your chin firmly but not rough, he could do that later when other people were not present. The soft skin of his thumb swiped across your bottom lip, wiping away the blood now staining your lips. You felt your chin release from his grasp and felt your body shudder as you watched him place his thumb between those plump lips of his, sucking your sweet crimson blood clean from his thumb. Dumbstruck with desire you just watched him enraptured, only being brought back to reality when you felt his powerful grip roughly on your upper thigh. His hand was now so close to where you were desperate to feel him, cursing your dress for not being able to feel is skin upon yours as you let out a small whimper that thankfully was only audible to him.

Geta revelled silently at the sound of your beautiful whimper and the knowledge that he was driving you insane with lust, he leant towards you, so his breath was hot on your neck, his nose rubbing playfully against your earlobe. “Don’t worry my little love, the games will be over soon, and we can return home shortly” You close your eyes and try to concentrate as you hear his deep voice vibrate against your skin, he knew he was being cruel, and he was loving it.

“God’s… not soon enough” A breathy whisper escaped your lips, this was like torture to you, it didn’t help matters when Geta bit your earlobe roughly and chuckled before sitting upright in his seat again, as if he hadn’t just been riling you up for him. You groan internally and ball your fists, white knuckling your way through the rest of the gladiator games, minutes feeling like hours to you at this point.

The last few games passed without much event, or at least you thought they did, you had other things on your mind at present that distracted you from the fights. Once the colosseum started to clear out and the crowd began dissipating you started to relax slightly, your mask of control starting to slip as you could not hold onto it for much longer. Geta stood talking to his brother Caracalla as the crowd faded away, you could tell he did not want to partake in this conversation, so you approached them and linked Geta’s arm. Your voice now feigning a desperate plea to it, you wanted to have Geta in private and he did not want to entertain his brother, this was the best way to achieve your goals.

“My love are you ready? The heat is ever so trifling, I cannot stand it much longer” Your puppy dog eyes, and playful whine were an obvious fake to Geta, but he loved your performance nonetheless, the pathetic and helpless demeanour you had affected helped to spur him on.

Geta played along with your little charade, patting your hand gently and kissing the top of your head before turning to face his brother. “You will have to forgive me brother, my delicate wife needs attending to” He shot Caracalla a knowing smile, he knew that his brother saw through the act you were both putting on currently but he could never call you out on it, he just had to stand there and seethe silently.

It was not long until you both arrived back at the palace, it was painfully long knowing you had to share a carriage back with some high-ranking senators and make polite small talk. You don’t know what you had done to upset the Gods, but it felt like they were taking their wrath out upon you today. There was the normal welcoming of the Emperor and Empress that happened when you finally arrived at your palace, you nodded swiftly through that debacle and headed straight for your bedroom.

The door to your royal bedroom had barely closed before you felt Geta’s hand upon your throat, pressing you against the wall, you felt him place sloppy kisses against your neck as he held you roughly, no regard to your comfort, just how you loved him to hold you, his other hand gripping your waist so hard it made you moan and imagine the beautiful bruise that his grasp would leave. Your back arched towards him as you felt your body crave him, his name escaped your lips with a moan, causing Geta to smile against your soft skin that he had already started marking.

“My love, I’m only just getting started” His growl vibrated against your neck with a smile as you felt his teeth nip your skin.

[enhaheeseung]

At your service l. Heeseung

Pairing: live in maid heeseung x rich fem reader

Warning: age gap, smut, fluff, angst, dirty talk.

Note: I’m getting back to this story so something’s might not line up but overall I thinks it’s still pretty accurate

Masterlist

WC 2,676

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

heeseung decided to skip school and just spend the entire day with you planting the flowers that he had gifted the night prior.

He also woke up hours before you and realized that he felt something else in his heart other than guilt as he analyzed your peaceful sleeping figure. His heart skipped a beat when he looked over at your side of the bed and saw you sleeping soundly next to him. He felt like he could just stay like that forever. Having you next to him, spending the entire day with you, cooking with you, laughing with you, talking with you. Reading with you.

Something that he hated till he met you.

You have been on his mind all day, every day, since the day he laid his eyes on you. Sure, the pay was insane, but your beauty was even more insane.

And since the first day he got hired, everything has just been.

you you you

He Definitely owed Jay an apology after his little outburst in the grocery store. But he was just scared and confused about his feelings for you. His past girlfriends warped his image of women and relationships. Ever since he got his heart broken, he decided that if he couldn't find love, then no one could, so he played with girls by leading them on and ditching them later. However, you were the first one of those girls he actually had sex with, and he's pretty certain that after you, there would be no one else.

-

"Can I help now?" you asked for the third time after he ignored you the first two times.

"Nope, you just sit there and look pretty," heeseung said as he dug up the dirt to plant more of the seeds.

"But you said you wanted to plant them together," you pouted.

"yeah, planting them, not digging up the dirt!" he said in a high-pitched voice. “You’re too beautiful to get any dirt on you,” he winked, and even though it was cheesy, he still made you flustered.

You smile, sitting back and watching him dig a few more holes in the garden before grabbing the sunflower seeds.

"Now you can help." he handed you a packet once he was finished with the dirty part.

"how long till they bloom?" you squatted down and sprinkled them onto the ground, the little seeds falling into his neatly dug hole.

"umm, about three months, but we should see the blooms in a couple of weeks," he answered with his chin resting on his knee and a pout on his lips as he concentrated.

"Good, 'cause I'm impatient," you say, smoothing the dirt over the seeds.

"so, how is your book coming along?" he emptied the last packet while making small talk with you.

"it's… coming. I'm still stuck on the ending," you sighed.

"aww, I'm sure you'll figure it out soon." he dusted the dirt off his hands and helped you up off the ground. "So shall we water them now?"

You agreed, and he went to the back, grabbing the hose to water the freshly planted sunflowers.

"hee, where- don't," you spotted him walking towards you with the hose, a mischievous smile on his face, "don't! hee, I'm serious!" Your pleas fell on deaf ears, and seconds later, you screamed as the cold water drenched your body.

A hearty laugh erupted from his chest as he spayed you with more water, enjoying the sounds of your playful screams.

You ran towards him, trying to get the hose, but his grip was much stronger than yours, and he looked down at you, smiling evilly.

"Aww, poor little baby," he teased right when he was about to spray you again. You started to tickle his sides. His grip instantly loosened on the hose, and you were quick to snatch it away from him.

His eyes widened in shock, knowing that you were going to get pay back. "Y/n, wait!" he said while chuckling still. You aimed the hose at him, and his laughter soon died down, turning into nervous chuckles as he stared at you. "y/n! Wait!" he shrilled as you sprayed the water on him, and now it was your turn to laugh at him.

He tried to put his hands up and block the water, but it was no use. The stream was splashing everywhere. He soon charged over to you, fighting to get the hose from your hands, but you had a solid grip.

"y/n, stop!" he giggled while you both struggled for the hose. Eventually, through your battle of tug of war, the hose had turned upright, causing the water to fall on top of both your heads and from afar, it looked like a scene straight out of a movie.

Loud gasps came from both of you as the cold water ran down your shivering bodies.

"oops," you said and peeked up at him.

It took but a moment to notice just how close you had gotten to one another, and he was the first one to make a move.

He looked into your eyes, and you stared back. He wore a small smile on the corner of his lips as he gently took the hose from your hand, letting it fall on the grass and creating a puddle around yours and his feet.

He placed his hands around your waist, his cold, wet skin sticking to yours.

"I told you to stop," he grins before closing the distance between the two of you.

As soon as your lips collided with his, you couldn’t help but moan softly into the kiss cause his lips felt so perfect against yours.

You kissed for a few moments before you felt his erection poking against you, and he sighed onto your lips, his body yearning for more of you. "Should we take this to the pool?"

"yes, please," he picked you up in his arms with ease, walking to the front door and opening it with you still hugged around him.

He walked upstairs while you focused all your kisses on his neck, waiting for him to take you to your guy's destination.

"if you keep doing that, I might just have to fuck you on the stairs." He warns.

"I'm not stopping you." You bit his neck softly, placing wet kisses on the light pink marks that were starting to form on his skin.

He groaned, feeling himself grow harder by the second.

Once he reached the spot, he carefully set you down at the edge of the pool, removing his clothes, while you did the same before getting into the pool with him.

"I just can't seem to keep my hands off of you," it had only been a few seconds, but you were already wrapped up in his arms again, and you felt the same way you wanted to be glued to him at all times.

You brushed your fingers through his hair, locking your eyes with him. Those eight letters were just on the tip of your tongue, but before you could say them, he was wrapping your legs around his waist.

"ready?" he asked you with his tip, slightly brushing your entrance.

You nodded your head, and he wasted no time before slowly pushing his dick in you.

"ah fuck" he hissed, mouth hung wide open, your walls already clenching down on him from the intrusion. He wasn’t even two inches in, and it felt so good he was so desperate and needy for you.

He thrust in you inch by inch, the head of his cock brushing against your walls and opening you up so perfectly.

After being with him multiple times, you'd never get used to his size and how he was always able to make you feel so good and so full.

"so warm and wet, this is all for me, right? Tell me I'm the only one who can make you this wet." he licked a long stripe up your chest, his palms kneading your plush backside as he thrusts into you.

"Only you can make me wet. Only your cock can make me feel like this," you held him tighter for support as he fucked his cock into you faster and deeper.

"and this pussy is all mine. No one can have you but me." He says, letting his emotions get the best of him.

"no one but you, hee." He pressed his lips to yours. It wasn't even barely a kiss, just his lips resting on yours. But he just wanted you to be as close to him as possible.

"Yeah, only mine,” he smiled, feeling content now that the words came from your own mouth. “hold on to me tight" he used all of his strength to fuck you, his thigh muscles burning from all the energy he used to hold you up.

"hee!' you squeak, feeling him hit your spot with each stroke, your head lulled back from the intense feeling of your climax quickly approaching.

"look at me darling, I want you to look at me." he held you up higher, your thighs resting on his forearm as the water continued to splash from the fast jerking of his hips. "that's it."

You maintained eye contact with him as your expressions mirrored each other's lips, parted, hooded eyes, and a mix of loud, desperate moans.

He backed you up to the edge of the pool to gain more leverage to massage your clit with his fingers.

"close?" he asked, feeling you tighten on him every few seconds.

"so close," you mewl.

"me too, precious, me t-too." He whimpers.

"yes! Yes! fuck me, oh hee." you cried in ecstasy when he hit your sweet spot repeatedly

He gave you his absolute all, his fingers still rubbing on your clit, and the pace of his strokes never once faltering, not even when you came, and your walls clamped down on him impossibly tight.

A helpless moan of his name bounced off the walls as he brought you to your intense climax.

"fuck yes," He said in a drawn-out moan. "squeeze my cock, just like that," he grunted, giving your cunt a few more thrusts before he pulled out. His cock throbbed in desperate need of attention to reach his high.

You took notice of this and quickly grabbed his cock, guiding it between your legs and rubbing it through your folds, massaging his cock with your slick and swollen pussy lips.

His legs trembled as he emptied himself straight into the pool just a few seconds after you. “So good,” he pants out and brushes his lips against yours.

Choked moans left his lips as he reached his end. You caressed his sensitive length gently until he was completely satisfied. Once collecting himself a bit, he pinned you to the pool's edge, trapping you in his arms.

You grabbed his face, pulling him in for a long, passionate kiss.

You both pulled away, looking at each other with adoration in your eyes.

"We should come in here more often." He says while smiling, loving every last second of what had just taken place.

"Should we?" You ask, and he nods his head, kissing you once more.

He led you to a much less steep part of the pool, laying your back against his chest while he rested his chin on your shoulder and held you tightly in his muscular arms.

You leaned your head back on his shoulder, sighing in contentment when he placed gentle kisses on your neck.

"I could just stay here like this all day," he confessed.

"We don't have to move anytime soon." You placed your hand in his.

"good," you kissed the back of his hand, silence filling the air as you both enjoyed each other in the relaxing pool.

-

Later that night, you both showered and sat together on the couch watching TV, his hands preoccupied with your hair.

"I wanna take you out tomorrow," he talked over the TV.

Was he asking you on a date? You didn't want to assume things, but it sounded like a date.

You hadn't gone on a date in years, and you weren't sure if you were ready for that yet.

"I don't know. It's been so long since I've gone out with someone." You played with your thumbs nervously.

You didn't want to call it a date in case that wasn't what he had in mind. That would be so awkward.

"it'll be fun, trust me. You're always cooped up in here all by yourself." He says, not knowing just how rude it sounded to you.

"cooped up?" you took offense to his sudden choice of words. It’s the same type of thing all your “friends” would always say to you whenever they thought you needed to get out and live a little. The only reason they wanted you to hang out was to use you for money.

Before he could answer, you got up from his lap and went to the bedroom so you wouldn’t have to face him.

"y/n, I’m sorry. You know I didn't mean anything by it," he said softly and reached for your hand.

"Okay," you got up and went to your room to go to sleep cause you were in a bad mood, and it wasn’t entirely his fault, but still, you just needed a minute.

He quickly followed after you, sensing your off behavior.

"You're not even going to say goodnight to me?” he said while standing in your doorway when he got no response. He closed the door behind him, making his way to your bed and sitting down.

"hee, not now. I just want to sleep." You say, obviously annoyed you knew Heeseung wasn’t like your friends, but it still felt like shit hearing him say the same thing about you that they did.

While you stayed silent, he got into bed, cuddling up to you as close as possible.

"Darling, please don't be mad at me. It hasn’t even been five minutes yet, and I can't stand it," he whispered and cradled your small frame in his arms.

"I'm not mad," you told a white lie, not mad, just frustrated.

"then please don't ignore me. I know what I said came across as insensitive, but what I meant was I want to take you somewhere you can dress fancy, I want to spoil you, I want to show you a good time, I want to feed you, and at the end of the night, I want to bring you home and fuck you." He whispers in your ear.

You felt shivers run down your spine when he whispered the last words straight into your ear, and you couldn’t stay mad at him. He knew just what to say to make you feel better. He acknowledged his faults, and now he was making them right, and that’s all you ever wanted in a relationship of any kind.

You turned around and faced him. "I'm sorry for getting mad," you pouted and realized you kinda went a bit over the top for no reason.

“Don’t be. Just know I'd never say anything hurtful to you intentionally, and I promise I’ll be careful with my words, okay baby?."

He kissed your forehead, and a small smile graced your lips.

“Sorry, my precious.” Once again, you were seconds from saying those words, but it still felt way too soon, so you suppressed it for now.

“I forgive you,” you whisper shyly.

"Thank you, darling. Is it okay if I sleep with you tonight?" He asked.

"you can always sleep with me, hee, you don't have to ask." You tell him truthfully.

"Okay, good, now get some rest. Darling, 'cause tomorrow we're going to do it all." he turned off the night lamp before you even had time to protest, not to say you would anyway.

"goodnight, hee," you pecked his cheek.

“Goodnight, darling.” It looks like you were both in for quite the day tomorrow.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night ♥️

[girltwinklater]

SAM CARPENTER NSFW ALPHABET

not a soul asked for this but here you go gay people (me)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

makes sure you’re comfy before leaving and will MAKE you drink fluids. and if you’re staying over at hers she will not let you leave. cuddling before after and in between is like part of the deal.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

arms arms armsss sam loves her arms. so proud of them. but she’s always been super into hands. likes holding them, playing with them, sucking on your fingers. everything to do with hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

it’s like nectar to her. likes to makes sure you’re taken care of first. and then again and again and again. will suck you dry if you let her.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

loves hickies. pretends she doesn’t but loves when you mark her neck and thighs.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

moderately. but she’s learned your body and your sweet spots so she knows every way to get you off

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

doesn’t really prefer one over another, but likes seeing your face. seeing how well she’s doing.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

bro is goofy as hell 😭 sam can’t take anything seriously and it’s funny watching her try.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

she likes to stay trimmed. refuses to get rid of her happy trail.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

super gentle and sweet when she’s not being silly. loves being close to you and making you feel good

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

in the shower >>>> everything. and lovess handies.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

mommy kink but you didn’t hear that from me

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

your place since you live alone. but the risk of getting caught excites her a little.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

grinding and dry humping. over the clothes stuff. LOVES it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

can’t handle restraints. or knives. the one place she won’t go.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers receiving, but gives expert level head it’s INSANE

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

likes to go slow when she’s topping. making sure you’re okay and enjoying yourself. but will ride you like there’s no tomorrow.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

she’s okay with them. sam prefers taking her time, though.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

she’s iffy about it, but since it’s you it doesn’t take much to convince her.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

sam’s stamina is high as the heavens. can easily go three rounds without breaks. you’re genuinely baffled at how she never seems to get tired.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

she has a few. you like to use them on her sometimes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

she’s less of the teaser and more the tease-ee. you love watching her get restless.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

relatively quiet. small gasps and whines in your ear. the occasional plea when you’re being a tease.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

she loves talking to you in spanish. pet names and praises.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

all i’m gonna say is homegirl is PACKING

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not too high. the hormones definitely lowered it, but is down for it anytime.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

she has trouble sleeping. will hold you for hours listening to your breathing until she finally does doze off.

and yes i stole this from @finalgirlmeeks mind your business

[cookierunauprompts]

Can you please do a continuation of req 8 (the masquerade ball on) pleas I really loved it

absolutely, that's one of my favorite reqs that i've ever written. you do not understand how much i love masquerades hehehe

Requested Prompts #40 - 💓

You steadily picked yourself up from the ground, what had happened? The last thing you remember you were at the ball and then... nothing. You couldn't even remember who you were dancing with, if you were even dancing at all. You take a look around, taking in your surroundings... or rather, the lack thereof. You were surrounded by an inky black abyss that stained your vision black yet still allowed you to see, you could tell that it did that because you could see yourself almost perfectly. " Hello?" You call into the abyss, not expecting an answer even though that's what you want. " Is anyone there?" There was a pause, an almost infinitely long pause. For a moment you worried that you were stuck here, in the void, alone. You'd surely go insane if that were the case, but luckily( or perhaps, unluckily depending on how you view it) that wasn't the case. The ground trembled, and you stumbled back just in time to see a quite frankly way too large eye open up where you had been standing. It glowed a bright blue, reminding you of something you just couldn't put your finger on. And slowly but surely, it rotated to look at you. More eyes popped up, each staring at you when they opened. You receded into yourself, backing away even though it seemed that no matter how far you went they always seemed to get closer. You trip over your own feet and soon find yourself falling backwards, with fear clutching you for a mere moment before you are caught. " Now now, Little Star, we can't have you falling over now, can we?" A voice tutted with a chuckle, a rather familiar voice actually... You looked around for the source of the voice, and for who caught you, but you couldn't find anything other than the fact you were caught by a large, shadowy hand. You squeaked with surprise as you saw it's fingers curl around your form. " Y-you... Just who are you?" You called out into the darkness, your response beginning with a maniacal laugh. " Oh what a shame it is that you don't even recognize me... I'm rather hurt, Little Star." The voice cooed, and that's when it hit you. This voice belongs to that cookie at the masquerade ball... and the one that appeared in your dreams, the one you made that deal with... Oh sweet witches, just what did you get yourself into? " Show yourself!" You commanded, yet you were unable to hide the treble of fear that wormed its way into your tone. " Ehehe... Eheheha... Ehe he ha ha hah!" The voice cackled, you could feel the two largest eyes, the ones that looked like they actually belonged to a face, peering down at you. " Oho? So the princess wants me to reveal myself? I might as well indulge the wishes of her highness then~!" The voice chirped.

You stared on in a mixture of fear and awe as the Shadows receded to reveal the large figure of the cookie before you, bearing the same silhouette as the jester that appeared in your dream, only colored in. His heterochromatic blue eyes stared down at you as a grin stretched to be far too wide across his face. " Why hello there little princess! I'm so terribly sorry to have kept you waiting, but now we can finally meet face to face! Or well, face to real face." The jester chuckled, you couldn't help but feel like you've heard about this... well, this jester before. The cogs in your brain turn and turn, where have you heard about a Jester who could manipulate the Shadows to do his bidding? Ah, that's right, from your father. This was one of the five beasts, the fallen heroes. Shadow Milk Cookie. You fucked up big time just by making a deal with him in the first place, and you could tell that he could tell based just on your expression that you'd come to this realization. " Aw, there's no need to look so concerned! I do intend to keep my end of our little deal." You leaned away from him. " Considering your track record for deceiving cookies... I doubt it." You say, glancing up at him suspiciously. The gargantuan jester sighed dramatically. " You really don't remember out contract, do you?" He asked, to which you responded to with a shake of your head. " Fine, fine, I'll explain it again from the top." Shadow Milk Cookie cleared his throat, beginning to speak. " The very notion of our deal was that you would give me what you desired most in exchange for what you valued most, yes? What you wanted the most was freedom... Yet 'Freedom' is also what you value the most. So you put me into a bit of a conundrum as to how to collect what you valued while also giving you the freedom you ever so desperately desired." You gulped, you had a rather concerning feeling about this. You felt like you had acted selfishly in the past, far too selfish. " So then I had a thought!" The jester chirped, not helping the sinking feeling in your gut in the slightest. " What if I exchanged the freedom of your kingdom in exchange for yours? It was a truly marvelous idea if I do say so myself!" And there it was.

[carmesi-butterfly]

DID U SEE SHIRTLESS GYUVIN BUBBLE PIC… could u write smth about that!!!!

I JUST WOKE UP WHEN I SAW THE PICTURE I SCREAMED CRIED THREW UP I WALKED THROUGH THE WALLS I WENT COMPLETELY INSANE THE VOICES BECAME STRONGER

gyuvin was feeling more silly than usual and he decided that today's torture method for you was to send you some spicy pics! well, not that spicy, if it's torture he needed to leave you with the desire for more, so those pictures were (trying to find a way to say it more accurately) just slightly provocative ;3 what your boyfriend didn't know is that you can play this game too and you do it soooo damn well.

it started with a pic of him on the bed, body covered by the bed sheets but his collarbone was visible, as your boyfriend he knows perfectly the effects he has on you and how just a simple picture like this can turn you crazy, and yes, it was completely right and you're not ashamed to accept it!! you can bark if needed and this is why you ended up being a couple, because both have the same amount of insanity and that's why you knew your tactic would come out great. your response to his picture was one imitating the one gyuvin sent you, with no clothing and cleavage visible but spiciest! your boobs were appreciable from the angle and how low the sheets were accommodated over your body was the perfect point.

this wasn't the answer he was expecting, usually the situation would go like this: gyuvin sends a pic of him. you ask for more. he says no. you beg for more. he says no. he makes fun of you later. but you sending him a selfie looking so fucking hot wasn't what he was waiting for, he had to take a long moment to admire you, it shocked him off completely who spent a nice moment looking at the picture like a crazy man, eyes big and jaw to the floor.

with no signs of receiving a response soon, you decided to send another pic just for the funsies, one a few levels up on the scale of hotness hehe titties were now visible but your nipples were censored by your free hand, and that lied over and squeezed them :( making your boobs more delicious for the picture <3 after drooling like a pervert over you for at least 2 minutes he was ready to fight back, poor gyuvin wasn't expecting to be flashed by a more hottest, seductive, and irresistible picture of you almost nude!! gyuvin’s dick was already hard from the first one he just didn't notice because of how immersed he was in analyzing every aspect of the image as if it was a work of art in a museum, this situation led your boyfriend TO BEG desperately for naked pics ㅠㅠ plea that you enjoyed a lot of course

“if you want nudes you have to send too” he read your last message and at the speed of light took off his clothes and started taking selfies like crazy, everything he could imagine you want to see, even to the point of taking pics on the bathroom mirror, his dick looked so hard it surprised you :0 all of that just because of your covered boobs. when you received all the nudes your reply was to… not reply! you used the same tricks as him and won, now it was your time to make fun of him and leave him go insane for the night, also you can use this new acquisition to masturbate ~~

[palioom]

day twenty-two - bondage

pairing: jack "whiskey" daniels x f!reader

word count: 783

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; bondage, dom/sub, fingering

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

“Lookin’ so pretty for me, little lady.” Jack drawled as he looped another piece of rope around her body. Rough fingertips ghosting along her skin expertly as he tied more secure knots, testing their strength and testing the tightness of the rope. “That comfortable enough, sugar?”

She nodded with a hum, loving the care he put into tying her up, her ankles bound against the back of her thighs into a frog tie. Her hands above her head and tied to the headboard. Now he only added some more pretty ties around her torso, simply because he could.

“Gonna need you to use words, darlin’.” He said, finishing the last of his ties and leaning back to admire his work. She looked damn hot like this, all tied up and at his mercy. “Speak up for me.”

“Very comfortable, sir.” She said with an innocent enough smile, already floating on cloud nine just by how he had touched her. If only he could finally draw his attention to her weeping and aching pussy, her legs drawn open by how they were tied to the bed as well, giving him a full display of just how needy she was.

“There’s my darlin’.” He chuckled, shifting so he went from sitting beside her to in between her spread thighs, running his hands over her skin.

Smirking at how wet she was, his own cock twitching at how she called him sir.

She was a little feisty tonight, needing to be tied up and brought back down to earth by him.

“Are ya gonna beg me like a sweet little lady, too?” He asked, his fingers ghosting near her pussy but not actually touching her. Wanting to hear her sweet voice. “Even though you know you won’t get the grand prize like you want it today, sugar.”

She knew she had gone too far earlier by mouthing off at him, but she just couldn’t resist, having heard enough about his stupid colleagues at Statesmen and wanting some attention from him instead.

“I need you, Jack, please.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whimper as his fingers ghosted along her pussy again. “Please, touch me.”

Jack chuckled, watching her squirm against her restraints. She both hated and loved these, begging for him to tie her up before crying that he should untie her because she wanted to touch him.

“You can do better than that.”

She huffed, screwing her eyes shut and biting down a whine, the throbbing between her thighs driving her insane.

“I need your thick, veiny cock inside of me, sir.” Opening her eyes to look back at him, he saw his smile widen a bit, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Need you to fuck me open.”

He chuckled again, placing his hands flat onto her thighs and pushing them open further.

“Told you, you’re not gonna get that tonight.”

Now she actually whined, throwing her head back against the pillows.

He let her ride out the wave of frustration, keeping his hands firmly planted on her thighs as she did.

“Now, again.” Jack said softly, his thumbs rubbing over her skin. “You can do better.”

She sighed, looking back at him.

“Need your thick fingers inside of my pussy, sir.” She said, the ache unbearable now. “Please, it fucking hurts.”

A smile stretched his mustache wide over his lips, one of his hands moving to where she needed him most, wasting no time to give her what she needed. Already worked up enough to take two fingers, he set a steady pace, watching again how she strained against the ropes around her body.

Whining and panting, needing more of him but having to make do with his fingers plunging in and out of her.

“Look at ya, pretty girl.” Jack praised her, curling his fingers so her back arched as well as it could with how she was tied up. “All tied up and takin’ my fingers so well. What a sight.”

It didn’t take long for him to push her over the edge, the ropes digging into her skin as she writhed more while pleasure surged through her, calling out his name. The ties weren’t uncomfortable, only adding to the pleasure she felt as his fingers slowed down but didn’t stop.

Keeping the steady buzz going, he smirked as he saw her realize what this meant. That he would simply keep going until he deemed her worthy of his cock or was too fucked out to continue.

All while still tied up and at his mercy, both loving and hating the ropes he had weaved so expertly around her.

Oh, what a dangerous thing it was to be with a cowboy like him.