#she just locks him limbs and mouth

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your older boyfriend, satoru, shows you just how much he adores you in his private office <3

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x virgin!female reader. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). smut, pwp. fīngering. multiple ōrgàsms; overstimulation. mention of corruption kink. dry hūmping. nicknames ‘princess, baby, beautiful’. pls ignore any grammar errors xx

“heh, don’t look at me. look at yourself, princess,” satoru chuckles, easily noticing how your head is tilted in attempt to watch him as he gets you off. you’re sitting on his thighs with your legs spread, shamelessly allowing him to finger you in his office.

your shaky eyes dart down to your dripping cunt—clearly seeing how it’s got a mind of its own. it’s squeezing satoru’s long fingers as he moves them in the speed of light. your limbs are shaking by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving.

“the-the door,” you hiccup. you hadn’t locked the door behind you when you walked into satoru’s office. you definitely wouldn’t want any of his colleagues to walk in on you. though, that didn’t seem to worry your boyfriend. all he’s focusing on at the moment is your perfect pussy taking in his middle and ring finger.

satoru’s glossy lips are parted and covered in spit. he has to lick up the drool from the corner of his mouth so it wouldn’t dirty your opened blouse. he’s quite literally salivating at the sight and feeling of your warm cunt. . .

“the others ‘re busy, they won’t come in as long as you keep your pretty voice down,” satoru promises you in a smooth tone, blue eyes wide with fascination as he stares down at your pussy.

he’s always imagined what it’d be like to be inside of you. what it would feel like to hold you in his arms and make love to you without holding himself back— to show you a world you have yet to discover.

satoru wants to be the first one to do that, though he’ll wait until you’re ready. for now, he’s completely satisfied with just a taste of heaven.

“fuck, baby, she’s beautiful,” satoru praises your delicate pussy. your wet folds continue to make way for more of his fingers, spreading as he tries to enter a third digit into your poor, clingy hole. you whine as you feel satoru prepare you by rubbing your clit repeatedly with his thumb—trying to make you as wet for him as you possibly could be.

you shake your head, “can’t take more, ‘toru.” it genuinely feels like you’re being stretched out. three fingers are going to take you out. “nuh-uh,” satoru mocks you before telling you to look at him. the moment you do, his lips envelop yours in a lustful yet comforting kiss. you moan into his mouth and he does the same back, eyebrows furrowing because of how good it feels to suck on your tongue.

his fingers don’t stop. the third slides in and you jolt back against satoru’s chest. “shh, shh, i got you,” the older man attempts to calm you down. he stops fingering you for a second so you could adjust to the stretch. you’re tight—he can feel his erect cock twitching in his pants, begging to replace his fingers. he can’t, not yet.

satoru cusses under his breath once he feels your ass rub against the bulge in his uniform’s pants. you’re killing him and you don’t even realise it because you’re too focused on his fingers fucking your cunt. shlick shlick shlick — you’re dripping wet.

“i’m gonna cum,” you whisper through a soft gasp. it would be your third orgasm. you’re sensitive and your pussy feels like it’s on fire. your lower abdomen is tingling and aching. you’re going to inevitably squirt all over his chair, again.

satoru bites his lip as he hears you announce how close you are. his long fingers are already soaked with your juices, coating them with a sticky layer that he cannot wait to taste. “do it, baby. wanna see you cum,” your boyfriend coos.

satoru loves the way your hips circle back to him, rubbing against his groin. you’re driving him insane without even knowing it. he curls his fingers inside you, thumb still circling your clit for extra stimulation. you’re being driven to the edge of insanity.

he bucks his hips a little each time you involuntarily move in his lap. “toruuu, fnnh, so close,” you’re not only moaning because of the fingers inside of you, but also because of the hard bulge rubbing against and between your ass cheeks.

satoru knows your voice can easily carry over to the next room. you’re usually loud when you finish on his fingers. he takes his free hand and pushes your head back against his shoulder, his index and middle finger sliding into your mouth to silence you.

your whimpers are muffled as you automatically start sucking on his digits. satoru kisses your ear and jawline, whispering small words of praise against your skin because of your obedience. “keep it down for me, beautiful. y’re already doing so well.”

your eyes roll back as your saliva dribbles down his left hand. the wet trail runs down his veiny arm that’s exposed to your view. you love it when satoru pushes the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows—it reminds you of why everyone fawns over him. it’s hot.

you’re trying to hold out, not wanting to cum. you wish to stay like this, with satoru’s fingers deep in your cunt and mouth, his bulge grinding against the fat of your ass.

the white-haired man instantly notices this and chuckles to himself; you’re fighting a losing battle. he increases the pace, his wrist working over time so his fingers could reach those sweet spots in your velvety walls. he decides to rile you up some more;

“shiit, just imagine that ‘ts my cock stretching your pretty cunt out,” satoru grins against your ear. he knows you’re weak for dirty talk. you have never felt what it’s like to be stuffed full of a dick, and thus the imagination adds to the raunchiness of it all.

you shiver and let out a small moan escape your mouth before you continue to suck on satoru’s fingers. all this time you’ve settled for make out sessions, grinding and oral pleasure. you’re needy for more than that.

satoru knows what buttons to push. he knows how to make you melt and give in to him and his words. he bites your earlobe after letting his tongue lick the skin, “all filled up to the brim. you’d like that, huh?”

you barely managed to stifle a loud whine at that. your eyes widen and your pussy spasms around his fingers. you know it’s not long before you’re going to cream all over satoru’s hand.

sweat trickles down your forehead.

“yes, yes, yes!” you moan repeatedly, voice muffled by the fingers in your mouth. you can hear your boyfriend grunt into your ear after seeing how enthusiastically you’re responding. he’s totally getting off to you’re desperation.

satoru wants to cum so bad. he wants to shoot ropes of his cum in the pussy he’s prepping to one day take his dick.

you see black spots in your vision because of how hard the climax hits you. your breath hitches and you grip onto the armrests of the chair for support. a spray of clear and watery juices covers satoru’s entire hand and bits of his arm—evidence of just how much you enjoyed your little session with him.

the older man pats your tummy and rubs it, comforting you as the aftershocks of your climax hit. he pulls his fingers out of your messy cunt and brings them up to his glossy lips, thoroughly licking every drop off. his dick pulses in his pants at the delicious taste.

you’re panting as you try to get your thighs to stop shaking. you’re out of energy, drained. all that you hear replaying in your mind is satoru’s dirty talk. you don’t know if you can handle his dick if you’re already overwhelmed by the way he skilfully uses his fingers.

as if sensing your thoughts, your boyfriend smirks and hugs your body tightly to his chest.

“can’t give it t’ ya now,” satoru whispers and pouts, teasing you as if to turn you on again. he takes his wet fingers out of your mouth and presses his lips against yours as a promise, “but one day i will, yeah? one day i’ll fuck ya so good you’ll only know my name.”

[logansdoll]

thinking about logan x reader who’s literally the most introverted but bluntest person he’s ever met. that meet-cute (if it could be called that…?) would be entertaining as hell

cottontail

wolverines are known to prey on rabbits... which would explain why Logan was looking at you like that.

CW: fluffy fluff, heavily suggestive, profanity, i kinda changed it up a bit, takes place after X-Men (2000), reader is a bit of a personality, reader also has a bunny mutation, again kinda iffy on how this turned out, etc. (@OstarwomenO for the inspiration)

"And, finally, the gym," Ororo finished, motioning toward the door. "Much like the Danger Room, we use it to train or spar, but strictly without powers."

Logan cocked a brow, ears perking at the faint sound of music coming from the other side of the door, along with the rhythmic thuds of limbs slamming against a mat.

'Huh...'

Ororo insisted on giving him the official tour of the mansion now that he was back from his trip to Alkali, seeing as she never got the chance to when he first arrived.

And, of course—Logan being Logan—he waved her off, insisting he'd be able to figure it out.

But the woman did not take no for an answer.

"Someone in there?" he asked, shifting his cigar to the side of his mouth as his thumb jutted toward the door.

"Just (y/n)," she shrugged, an amused smile rising her to lips. "It's actually kinda ironic, she rolled in about an hour before you did yesterday."

That was the new smell he picked up on.

It was the same one the hallway was currently drowning in—not that he was complaining.

It was sweet and musky, with faint, floral notes and a smidgen bit of earth—like taking a breath of fresh air in the middle of a meadow.

"And I didn't run into her?" Logan raised a brow, feigning indifference.

Ororo let out a dry chuckle, as if she was in on a joke he wasn't, "(y/n)'s a... character. She kinda does her own thing around here."

Character?

Forget indifference, the man was intrigued.

"I can introduce you if you'd like," she nodded, her eyes widening slightly, remembering something. "Fair warning, she says whatever she wants. So just... don't be shocked when she says something appalling. She's a sweetheart once you get to know her."

'Jesus...'

She made it sound like he was about to meet some sort of feral grizzly bear.

Logan shrugged, and she let out a sigh, pressing the keypad and opening up the door to reveal you.

Grizzly?

No.

Feral?

Entirely possible.

With a wide grin, you weaved around, dodging jabs from the automated dummy before back-flipping onto the wall and pushing off like a spring.

Tackling the robot, you slammed its head into the ground, winding for a second blow when it suddenly bucked you off.

You recovered quickly, shifting in mid-air so you landed on your feet, before launching another attack.

Jumping high, you landed right on the dummy's shoulders, locking your thighs around its neck before effortlessly throwing around your body weight, sending it crashing to the ground

But that wasn't it.

With a soft grunt, and a small twist of your legs, you popped its head right off in a flourish of sparks and circuits—the action sending a warm tingle through Logan's stomach.

'Damn...'

You pulled yourself up off the ground with a laugh, grabbing the robot's body and tossing it in a pile in the corner—which consisted of at least twenty others.

"Finally," you sighed, jokingly, as the two entered further.

You sauntered over to your boombox and cut the music, dusting off your hands.

"This is a disgrace. How the hell are the kids supposed to learn from these things, 'Roro? They barely last two minutes."

She playfully rolled her eyes, fighting off her smile as she pulled you into a hug, "I hope you know you're paying for those."

You chuckled, giving her a loving pat on the back, "Put 'em on my tab."

Logan was still transfixed.

In all his years, he had never seen a mutant like you before.

(h/l), (h/c) hair, plump lips, heavenly curves, made evident by your workout clothes, or slight lack thereof, stark white bunny ears, equally white tail, paired with alluring (e/c) eyes.

You were dripping in beauty and confidence.

Logan, so mesmerized, didn't even realize that you'd already cruised your way over, and were now standing directly in front him.

"I take it you're Logan," you smiled, shamelessly staring at him. "If I knew you were this handsome, I woulda introduced myself sooner."

"(n/n)," Ororo scolded, pinching the bridge of her nose.

'Here we go...'

"Is that so?" Logan smirked, amused by your blunt start to the conversation.

"Hell yeah," you nodded, shifting you weight on your hips

You weren't stupid.

You saw the way he was staring at you, and you heard the way his heart frenzied when you walked over.

So what's to say you couldn't have a little fun?

After all, it wasn't every day you'd meet someone as sexy as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding.

"Of course, I could always do that over a few rounds."

His brow quirked with interest, eyes slowly flitting over your body at the proposition.

"On the mat, that is..." you chuckled, reading him loud and clear as you turned to walk toward the sparring area, stretching out your arms.

"That works, too," he grinned, tugging off his leather jacket.

"You two are doing this? Really?" Ororo groaned, resting a hand on her hip.

"Yup."

"She asked for it."

Ororo sighed, deciding to check herself out for the day and head for the door.

"Y'know what? Knock yourselves out. I'm gonna take a nap," she waved, turning the corner. "Don't break anything."

Logan scoffed, cracking his neck as he stepped onto his side of the circle, "No promises..."

You grinned, pleasantly surprised by his seriousness.

Many assume that because of your mutation, you're just some helpless little rabbit—as kids, you and Scott got into a huge argument when you caught him pulling his punches.

But Logan seemed ready to throw down, a fact that not only excited you, but made the man move up a great many rungs in your respect ladder.

"You sure you want this?" you smirked, lowering yourself into a split, stretching your legs. "I don't go easy."

'Goddamn, how flexible is she—'

"Neither do I," he snapped himself back, playing it off with a chuckle. "Let's see how long you last."

You scoffed, tongue in cheek as you stood up, shifting into a defensive stance.

'I'm gonna kick your ass, mutton chops."

"I'd like to see ya try, cottontail."

[dancingbirdie]

Back with another bout of plotless smut. Read at your own discretion and take note of the tags. <333

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

We Have All Night

Rating: MATURE

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader x Halsin

Word Count: 800

Warnings/Tags: Oral sex (fem!Reader receiving), praise kink, hand kink, threesome technically?, mentions of alcohol, pure plotless smut

Summary: You'd been wondering for some time what it would be like to have Halsin and Astarion share you.

*****

You could have easily blamed the events that ensued on the bottles of Blingdenstone Blush you all had passed around camp that evening. But if you were honest with yourself, the position you found yourself in was one you had been fantasizing about for some time. 

“That’s it, darling,” Astarion coaxed as his fingers slipped gently through your hair, teasing and massaging your scalp. Your head was pillowed in his lap, pupils blown wide with lust as you peered up at him. He smiled down at you, a wicked, hedonistic sort of grin.

“You so desperately want to hold still for him, don’t you?”

You whined your assent, trying your best to keep your hips from bucking – an impossible task considering the relentless way Halsin’s tongue was licking and circling that sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs. 

“Such a good girl. You’re doing so well” Astarion cooed, while Halsin groaned in agreement. The vibrations it created against your skin felt like electricity surging through your limbs. 

Your mind was a disjointed haze of lust and alcohol. Totally uninhibited, you keened loudly as the druid suddenly gripped the softness of your thighs and plunged his tongue inside you.

“Shh, shh, shh” Astarion hushed, moving a hand to cover your mouth. “We don’t want the rest of the camp to hear our fun, do we?”

You groaned and shook your head slightly. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to join in?” you rasped, your lips moving against his slender fingers.

He gave a mischievous little chuckle. “I’m certain. I’m having a wonderful time just watching,” Astarion returned. 

“The night is still young,” Halsin persuaded, pausing his feasting on you to meet Astarion’s eyes. The absence of his mouth left you wanting, aching for contact once more. “If you change your mind, there’s plenty of fun to be had.” 

“A tempting offer, indeed,” Astarion smirked. “Let’s see where the evening takes us, shall we?”

You moaned against his hand as Halsin dipped his head to begin circling your clit with his tongue once more. You fisted his gorgeous auburn locks in your hands, eliciting a groan from his mouth that felt absolutely delicious against your hypersensitive skin. 

“Our sweet pup has an oh-so-difficult time keeping quiet, doesn’t she?” Astarion crooned, tracing his fingers against the seam of your lips. “You’re trying so hard, darling, I know you are.”

His silken, sinful voice felt almost as euphoric as the deplorable things Halsin was doing between your legs. In a bout of unbridled lust, you opened your mouth to capture Astarion’s index and middle fingers in your mouth. 

You sucked down on them, circled them with your tongue, as you imagined having his hard length sheathed down your throat. Your bawdy move drew a sharp breath from the vampire, followed by a quiet groan. 

You paused your ministrations, lifting a hand to pull his fingers from your mouth before asking, “Is this okay? Is it too much?” 

Astarion chuckled darkly, and you watched as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. 

“You wicked thing,” he purred. “Yes, it’s okay. And it has the added benefit of keeping you quiet.”

You were beyond laughs and jokes. Hearing his consent, you drew his fingers back down to your mouth and resumed your sucking. You moaned your approval as Astarion pistoned his fingers deeper into your mouth at the same time Halsin inserted two fingers inside you. 

You knew you wouldn’t last long. Not with the way the druid was fucking you with his fingers at the same time his tongue was circling your clit. Not with the way Astarion was trailing one hand delicately across your exposed skin while you worshiped the fingers of his other hand with your tongue and lips. 

Every nerve within you was alight and thrumming with barely-restrained energy. You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher, your body preparing for the sweetest freefall that would soon ensue. Your heels dug into Halsin’s muscled back as you tensed, one hand still clenching his hair while the other held desperately onto Astarion’s thigh. 

“Yes, darling, yes,” Astarion kept coaxing as your body drew more and more taut. A bowstring desperate to be released. 

“Let yourself come, you know you want to,” he added in a soft whisper. 

It was too much. 

Those words, and a final flick of Halsin’s tongue, had you shattering into a thousand pieces. Your cries were barely restrained by the fingers still occupying your mouth. You were lost in pleasure, awash in the tingling aftermath of your release. 

Chest heaving, mind reeling, you could barely find words. 

“That… that was…” you wheezed, before letting loose a giggle. “Everything I’d imagined it would be.”

“You’d thought about this before?” Halsin grinned, wiping his mouth clean against his forearm before leaning down to plant a reverent kiss against your lips. You could taste yourself on him. It gave you more satisfaction than perhaps it should have. 

“My, my. What other sort of depraved carnal pleasures are bouncing around in that head of yours, I wonder?” Astarion added, helping you sit up so that you were lounging between the two of them. 

You shared a conspiratorial grin with both elves. “We have all night, if you’d like me to show you.”

[diejager]

Imagine that the hybrid 141 was getting a teammate and that teammate was a hybrid and Laswell wanted it to be a surprise for the team what they are as in hybrid was and soon as they get off the aircraft and onto the tarmac, the boys realize that they’re with another dragon hybrid and her “heat” would be soon upon her (dark blue in to black better for stealth or, whatever you prefer, she also has her wings) how would the boys handle that you can take the story anyway you want 

This… I might make it self-indulging because this idea has been clawing at the back of my mind for a long while. Cw: mating/heat cycle, fire/water magic, tell me if I missed any.

Laswell had Price wait for the surprise she had planned, the secret she kept from them when they received your file. It had all he asked for in attributes and skills, but all things personal that should have been on it were scratched out in black. He was told that it was a need to know basis, your name, age or species wouldn’t be divulged unless you told them yourself. He knew you from words from mouth to ear, ad read of your skill and efficiently but nothing he heard and found told him an ounce about you as a person. Your character was a mystery he died to know.

So when he got word from Laswell that your ETA was just over half an hour, he had the boys reconvene to the airstrip, watching the aircraft carrying you land not too far from them, the rotors slowing to a steady thrum. The anticipation that bubble din his chest made this moment crawl at a snail’s pace, the ramp lowering too slowly for his liking and the droning sound of the aircraft’s irking his ears. Then, seconds after the ramp fully dropped, he caught sight of blue horns, tines growing from a singular robust beam, segmented like those of a scale. Your head, covered by a custom made helmet to let your antlers peek out and sit comfortably on your head (at least you wore something, unlike his constant frustration with finding one that wouldn’t bother his horns), followed after you walked out, decked in your gear and a bag slung over your shoulders. 

You weren’t what he was expecting, not exactly. He read that you had a masterful experience in hydromancy, stealing water from the air and humidity and contorting it to cause havoc in the field and cutting through the enemy. He and the others shared their theories, one possibility made you into a water witch, a leviathan, or one of those creepy monsters from the deep sea. Not what… whatever you were. You had elk-like horns painted in the deepest blue he’d ever seen and a tail covered in scales of the same shade, glistening under the light like it was wet with tufts of hair - or was it fur? - crawling down the base of your fourth limb to create a silky and soft end with long, slowing locks. 

What were you? What was that smell? It got sweeter the closer you got, a softness that clung to his nose and made him salivate. He wondered how strong it must be for the Soap and König who’s noses were more enhanced and sensitive than any others, they’d probably sniff the source - you - out and answer his undying question.

“Captain Price,” you nodded your head, a small smile gracing your lips, your slitted eyes narrowed in greeting, “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

That sweetness lingered around you and stuck to his hand when you shook hands, giving him a firm shake and stronger grip that he could admire for the strength you showed. Had you face been as bright as it was a few seconds before? Perhaps it was the musk that oozed off you, it was uneasily addicting and pleasing to his lizard brain, slowly moving the cogs of hos old machine. He watched you take a step back, making some distance between his Task Force and you, and his mind got clearer, nose less stuffy and cheeks wash away the slight flush. Then it hit him, the sweetness, the dazed perception of you and the growing need in his body, he was reacting to you. 

“Sorry, I was told I’d be off for the week once I landed,” you cocked your head, sharing an apologetic smile, “My cycle follows the Lunar year.”

Ah, everything made more sense now, the gracefulness of your beautiful tail, the glistening of your scales and the sharpness of your horns. He had agreed to welcome another dragon to his Task Force, he was fortunate that Asian dragons were calmer and benevolent than his European counterpart. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[queenimmadolla]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

(dad!eddie x mom!reader)

Summary: Eddie has to shower before he can hold his impatient baby. She's having none of it.

a/n: i was attacked by yet ANOTHER cute baby tiktok so here we are with a little bit of grease monkey!eddie and another little drabble. set in the early days of the pennyverse. and yes, i've used this gif before but he's dead so i'm running out of them. mistakes might be fixed later, i dont know :)

“Are these your little fingers?” You asked your baby, tone saturated in honey and affection as you held the chunky palm in question, lips pressed to her pudgy fingertips. 

  Despite your aversion to it prior to your pregnancy, you’d inevitably developed a baby voice when Penny had come into the world and you couldn’t be blamed. Not when she was all squish, delicate cheeks holding so much chub they bulged, and rolls decorated her little limbs. She was a glutton, always demanding your milk and you couldn’t deny her; those big, gorgeous eyes she’d inherited from her father made it nearly impossible to, even when the wetness welling up in them were completely alligator tears. And those curls. 

  Regardless of taming them with some water, a brush and maybe some vaseline, they ended up wild, flying about or mussed and matted to her head with sweat because your baby was a little heater when she slept and napped. Just like her daddy.

  Your smile widened in size when you heard the sound of keys slotting into place at the front door, the lock mechanism giving away. It tripled when you realized your baby also recognized the sound, head turning to stare at the door as she bobbed in place, thick legs squatting and then popping back up as you held her by her waist with your other hand, assisting her with standing.

  The moment Eddie opened the door and came into view she began cooing and squealing in excitement, mouth parting in a wide smile as drool raced down from the corner of her mouth.

You laughed, and so did Eddie as he heard his baby welcoming him home.

  “You excited to see me, sweet pea?” He cooed right back, walking over to squat in front of the two of you, eyes raking over you momentarily in appreciation before focusing on the little one in your arms. 

  She let out another long coo that ended on an airy sigh, pulling her hand from your grasp to reach both of her pudgy ones out to him, practically begging him to hold her as she began wiggling in your arms.

  Eddie’s head tilted, lips curling into the most tender smile as he stared down at her with nothing but love swimming in those eyes he’d shared with her. 

  “Daddy missed you and mommy so much.” He whispered, a hand reaching out, almost close enough to caress her soft cheek but it hesitated before he could touch her. His rough, grease covered finger was a stark contrast to her clean, smooth skin. Clearly, you’d given her a bath before he got home because her mouth and cheeks were usually covered in the food you were starting to offer her (sometimes baby food, but mostly bits of your food because she wouldn’t accept any offerings of mushed up veggies and fruits if there was something else on your plate, hence why your diet had been pretty bland and not at all a result of the tight budget your maternity leave left you on).

The rest of his hands were no better, palms stained, streaks all over his arms as a result of shucking the top half of the monkey suit and rolling up his sleeves at the garage. 

  There were even a few streaks of grease and maybe oil on his face and neck. Your husband smelled more so of tires than he had the spicy cologne that surrounded you when he’d kissed you goodbye in bed this morning. 

  And he knew it.

  Penny didn’t let that stop her, still eagerly reaching out for him as she grunted to try and provoke him in swooping her up into his embrace.

  “As soon as daddy’s clean, okay? I’ll pick you up and my sweet girl can give me all the cuddles she wants.” He promised, hands on his knees before he stood back up, leaning over her to give you a sweaty, greasy oh so sweet and firm press of the lips kiss before he swiveled around and disappeared into the small bathroom as quickly as he could to be out of hearing range when Penny began whimpering at his absence. 

  You heard the shower start running at the exact moment she began to cry and you offered a sympathetic whine of your own as you adjusted your grip on her, bringing Penny up to your chest, your cheek smushed against her more plump one.

  “Shhh…it’s okay, my love. Daddy’s just showering. He’ll be back.” You stood up, hitching Penny on your hip as you walked to the entrance of the small hallway so the bathroom door was visible to her. Eddie’s humming floated out from underneath the crack of it. 

  Penny was Eddie’s daughter, alright, full of dramatics as her breathing remained heavy, chest rising and falling quickly with the hitches in her breath as a chunky fist gripped onto your blouse, lower lip curling out and wobbling. She didn’t seem satisfied with your explanation but that didn’t worry you. If Penny was awake when Eddie left for work in the morning, she’d start bawling. 

  The first couple of times she’d started reacting to his departure, he’d ended up full of guilt and late to work. It still wasn’t easy for him, even after you’d finally convinced him she’d have the same reaction whether he left in the morning, afternoon, or evening. Regardless of the time, she was going to be upset that she wouldn’t be able to see her daddy, probably convinced in her little baby mind that he’d abandoned her (he’d nearly quit the shop when you’d phrased it like that) but he’d always come home to her—and you—and that’s what mattered.

  You were positive she’d start yelling and shrieking when it came time for you to go back to work, too. She was just a baby, so she was being a baby.

  You carried your huffing and puffing daughter back to the living room, placing her down on the carpet in front of some toys she had been playing with earlier in the day. Maybe they’d distract her.

  Wrong.

  She sat on the carpet, chunky legs strewn out for just a few seconds before she was moving forward onto her belly and propping herself up. Then she was off, crawling as fast as she could towards the hallway while breathing heavily with exhilaration. You trailed after her, amused at how stubborn she was when she stopped directly in front of the bathroom door, propping herself up on her bottom.

  You watched Penny reach out with shaky palms, pressing them gently against the door. It looked like they were feeling around it before she began slapping them against it as hard as she could as she yelled her baby babble, no doubt demanding her daddy open the door, pick her up and love her right now.

  Giggles were muffled into your palm, as she kept up with it. 

  Eventually, maybe when she realized that wasn’t working, Penny leaned over, wiggling around until she was on her tummy and the side of her head was resting on the carpet. You realized she was trying to look under the door for him and your heart clenched, hand flying over your chest as if you could grasp the organ.

  You expected her to sit back up and go back to smacking the door but she remained there, a stubby finger absentmindedly trailing through the carpet as she stared through the thin crack, warm bathroom light and Eddie’s voice flooding out from underneath to comfort her as she waited.

  Picking her up had crossed your mind, and so did the idea of how loudly she’d probably start screaming and crying if you did. 

  The two of you didn’t have to wait for long, the shower shut off and you could hear the sounds of the shower curtain rings scraping against the rod as Eddie pulled them back. 

  Panic briefly filled your chest as you realized Eddie probably wasn’t expecting his baby to be lying on the floor directly outside of the bathroom—he’d step on her, so you called out, “Heads up, Eddie, you’ve got a visitor.”

  You didn’t hear a response, but a few moments later, the door opened to reveal your husband. Water droplets slipped down his neck and chest. He had one towel—that had definitely seen better days—wrapped around his waist and another (yours) he was using to scrunch up his sopping wet curls to dry them.

  Eddie had heard you, shooting you a smirk before he addressed the baby beaming up at him, “Shower’s free if you wanna hop in, stinky.”

  Penny had no idea what he was saying, it didn’t matter anyways because he said it in the same voice he used when he gave her kisses and held her to his chest so she was reaching up for him and he finally reached down—with clean hands—grasping her sides before she was hoisted into his arms. Penny wasted no time, mouth parting wide to mouth aggressively at his face and chin while she shook her head and wiggled about.

  She was giving him kisses.

  Or trying to eat him, she had little bursts of energy where she’d do that—attack you out of nowhere while you held her causing the both of you to break out laughing.

  Eddie let her get it all out, and when she cooed, resting her cheek on his shoulder, he retaliated. Her cheeks and little neck rolls were smattered in his smacking kisses as she squealed and shrieked and wiggled but there was no escaping her daddy’s clutches now that she was finally in them. 

  When every inch of her available to him had been kissed, he turned towards you and you suddenly found yourself victim to two sets of identical crinkly brown eyes. A deep chuckle rumbled from Eddie as he padded over to where you stood, mischievous smirk making another appearance.

  “Mommy’s turn.”

[fartcloudfartcloud]

Do you mind doing a smut blurb about dry humping with Logan pls. I just need to read some dry humping with that man omfg

Tysm in advance you write Logan smut so well 😫😫 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Ofcourse I can lovely, and thank u so much omg im blushing. I'd do anything for this old man and if it were up to me I would have achieved atleast 1 nut on every inch of his body. you know how it is. I love writing dialogue so much, so I hope when I do it's like sexy and in character and not like ew why would he say that ykwim 😭😭😭 Also just realized u said dry humping and this is very much not dry, so if u want specifically some like over the clothes bumping and grinding I fuck with that too, just lmk 😋

Logan couldn't wrap his head around how so men come home to their beautiful girls, just to mistreat them. (he told me himself)

He couldn't imagine coming home and doing anything but pleasing whatever fresh faced beauty had burrowed their way into his heart.

Especially when that freshed faced beauty was as freshed faced and beautiful as you.

You'd fight him, shoo him away when he leers over your shoulder at your makeup routine and scold him when he's got his phone camera in your face. You'd never change his mind, no matter how hard youd try.

He didn't know how you could either, especially now when he's got you like this.

The room is hot and sticky as sounds of you and logans debauchery fill the room. The scene is nothing short of pornographic, since hes got you with your soaked core pressed into his thigh, your legs moving you in a mind numbing pattern.

Logans hands on your hips do most the work, though. He's got you pressed down in a way you're not sure you could sustain on your own, your hips locked back and clit taking most of the abuse, and it's driving you up the wall.

Your eyes are cast down, stairing at the fat of your pussy being smushed back and forth, leaving a slimy trail of slick to drip down the sides of Logans limb.

Logans eyes, however, have not left your face for a moment. You look jaw dropping like this, your head bobbing as your hands desperately grab onto whatever they can hold, your moans reaching a fever pich every time he applies just a little more force.

"You can take it, right baby?" The words don't make it past your lips, but you shakily nod and pant an audible "mhm".

"Atta girl," He praises, one hand coming up to grab your chin. He's got a goofy grin on his face, his pupils blown out and his hair falling into his face as he brings your eyes back up to his.

"There she is," His smile turns fond upon seeing your face again. His hand quickly returns to your hip and resumes his relentless assault on your core, this time his eyes locked on yours in an intimate embrace.

Not only can he smell it, but he can feel your impending climax. He can feel the way the slick is pouring from you, can feel the way your bud gets all stiff and sensitive. If nothing else, it was hard to ignore the way you shake like a leaf, your lungs void of air as it all overwhelms you.

"That's it right there, huh princess?" He asks, your voice becoming high pitched and whiney as you nod, your hands tightening on his tanktop.

"Let me see it baby. Don't take those pretty eyes off of me," He orders, picking up the pace, sprinting to bring you to your finish.

"Lo- its- mph~ i-im-" "shhh, just let it go," He whispers lowly, the sound going straight to your already buzzing center. It's not long before your eyes break his gaze, mindlessly rolling into the back of your head as the feeling consumes your body whole.

His hands don't falter, working you through your orgasm as you relentlessly shake and cry in his hands. Your face ties up, eyes now scrunched up and mouth dropped open in what is probably his favorite of all your looks.

He doesn't stop till you're twitching and squirming, whines going from orgasmic to almost painful as your whole core becomes sensitive.

"Fuck- Logan," you plead, wrapping your arms around his waist and hiding your face into your neck. You let out a deep sigh as you relax into him, feeling the waves of your release leaving you and being left with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

He wraps his arms around you too, comforting you with his big arms and firm embrace.

"You have fun, princess?" He teases, kissing the crown of your head and pressing his face against it.

You respond with a quiet "mhm", face refusing to leave his neck.

He holds you like this, whispering soft words of so good, so pretty, my baby, into your ears and making your mind get all floaty and soft.

hope u enjoyed!! thank u for the request, keep them coming I'm having so much funnn omg

[mackandcheezy]

Beneath the White Sheets (Young! President! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

​​A/N: A simple domestic fluff turned slightly sensual hot, slightly crazy, boyfriend who can’t keep his hands to himself. For my lovely anon who just wanted something less depressing than the typical hunger games fic

People are utterly stupid. At least that’s what Coriolanus had been telling himself for the past two hours. Being made president of Panem was everything he had ever wanted and more but he couldn’t stand how much conversation it involved. He could never stand to fraternize with those less intelligent than himself and that seemed fo be all this was comprised of. Though it all was worth it to come home to you. 

You had met in school, what felt like such a long ago. Started as enemies as all good lovers do, competing to mentor the best tribute for the 10th hunger games. Yours had died before even making it to the arena, a fact Coryo never quite let you forget, or the fact that his won. But you were always quick to remind him that he cheated so it didn’t count. The same small frown would appear on his face at the mention of Lucy Gray. 

You knew they had a history, but you also knew that nobody could ever love you the way he did. On a fundamental level she would always resent who he was, how he was raised, his “kind.” You on the other hand knew what it meant to work your way up from the bottom, to have drive and passion. You were one in the same in that way, but you kept him in check, able to dull some of the red that always tinted the edges of his plans. 

The moment he bursted in the door you knew it had been a bad day even before he started ranting. 

“I can’t BELIEVE these people, it’s like they think the world runs on expensive fabrics and tiny foods.” Coryo threw his suit jacket into the corner of the room, the white coat crumpling like a piece of paper. Running a hand through his hair he finally took the time to look at you properly. 

His eyes raked your form, taking in the way your freshly washed locks framed your face. Your eyes were focused on him, that same worried look ever present on your face, it brought a warm flush to his cheeks. Even a year into marriage it never ceased to surprise him that everyday someone could care. That even after seeing him, the real him with skeletons in the closet, you still loved him— still forgave him. That simple fact was enough to make the stress of the day melt from his body. Shoulders dropping just the tiniest bit, jaw coming unclenched for the first time since he’d left at six am that morning. 

He watched as you shuffled out of bed, in that same night dress that was just sheer enough to hint at what was underneath but not enough to satisfy his desires. Your pebbled nipples poking out just enough to make him want to do nothing more than to take one into his mouth and taste the sweet comfort of home. The thought of the taste of your skin already bringing a burning desire to his mind. 

But you could simply fuck anytime, right now was for something more pure. 

You floated across the room and wrapped your hands around his waist, burying your face in his chest, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too. I should fire everyone and replace them with you instead, you’re more intelligent that all of them combined,” he placed a greedy kiss to your lips before pulling away, “and much sexier too” his hot breath on your lips making you flush. 

You allowed him to change his clothes wordlessly. Basking in the presence of your lover, Coryo doing the same. Your relationship was built on comfortable silence, if something needed to be said it would, but for now all either one of you needed was to feel the other. 

Like a well rehearsed play you both flowed back to the bed, allowing the cool sheets and soft mattress to absorb your bodies until you met in the middle. Coryo wrapped every open limb around you until you were one. With your ear on his chest you listened to his heart beat. The rhythmic thumping grounding you, this was reality, white sheets and curly blonde hair. 

“I’m scared” that statement sent chills through your body. Never had Coryo admitted to something so-- human in all the time you had known him. 

“Do we have something to be scared for?” 

“The thought of this being temporary fleets my mind often these days, that one day I will have nothing to provide to you anymore” The statement broke your heart. Deep down you knew he cared, even if he tried to convince himself he didn’t. Yet her he was the very thought of letting you down was terrifying. 

“I don’t need anything but you,” You felt the held breath ruffle the strands of hair at the top of your head. “You are enough Coriolanus Snow, I promised myself to you because even a poor beggar I would want nothing more in this life than you” 

“I have never wanted anything more than you” The confession surprised you in a sense. You knew you were an important part of the puzzle, but Panem always seemed to come first. 

You allowed yourself to reflect on that as you watched the sun drop below the skyline of the Capitol, a warm orangey-pink engulfing the room. Allowing yourself to relax in the strong embrace of your husband, and give in to the sleep pulling at your eyes.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod Men with Drunk!Reader

Requested: Yes [Can I request cod men with fem reader who is drunk with friends and when he goes to pick her up, she’s like refusing and saying she has a bf and starts blabbering about how much she loves him and she doesn’t even recognise him 😭]

Warnings: Reader is actually mostly GN cause I couldn’t find any way to casually mention them being fem, there is one Königin (german word for Queen) mention though, Drunk people behavior, Violence, Cops get called, Reader gets lots of kisses but nothing more than that

Ghost

Ghost is more than a little amused when you squirm in his hold as he picks you up, vehemently fighting him with your limbs what were weak from your drunk state, blabbering on and on about how you already have a boyfriend that you love with all your heart. It warms the empty black pit where his heart once resides, making the cracked edges of his soul pulse with life. Even like this, you still wanted him? Still didn’t want anyone but him? It didn’t even matter that you were so inebriated that you didn’t recognize him, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your wide eyed expression, your mouth hanging open, made him chuckle.

And he promptly had to dodge your open hand trying to slap at him as you cried about how your boyfriend was gonna beat him up for that.

Soap

Soap can’t help but laugh at you as he slings you over his shoulder, adoring the squeak that you let out when he does so, his hand smacking your ass rather harshly, telling you that he’ll just have to fight your boyfriend then. He asks if your boyfriend is stronger than him, more handsome, braver, as he drags you to the car, forcefully buckling you into the backseat, his grin only widening when you say that he is. He’s certain he’s never been more in love than in this moment, nuzzling his nose to yours affectionately before putting on the child locks to the back doors and taking you home. (He was a little less amused when he got pulled over by the police on the way home because you somehow found a pen and some paper in the backseat and used it to ask a nearby driver to call the cops)

König

König finds it quite endearing but it’s also a bit nerve wracking, worried that people around you will get the wrong intention as he tries to quietly escort you to the car as you insist that you have a boyfriend that you already love, trying to sneak past him back into the bar. The words warm his heart but people are starting to look at him suspiciously so he shushes you softly.

“Königin, please. You’re making a scene.” He tells you softly, his big hands cupping your face as you stare at him with confusion before loudly demanding to know why he knows the nickname he always calls you. König sighs, knowing this was going to be a long trip home.

Alejandro

Alejandro just laughs, pulling you into his lap right there at the bar, pressing kisses all over your face as he remarks on how lucky your boyfriend is to have such a beautiful and loyal partner. Your flustered and defiant look only amuses him more and he presses extra kisses to your cheeks before nibbling at your ears, standing up with you in his arms. “You’re really adorable, Amor!” He tells you, carrying your writhing body all the way to the car, buckling you in securely, kissing your lips softly before getting secured himself. Thankfully you fell asleep on the way home so he didn’t have to drag you kicking and screaming into the house.

Krueger

Krueger is a mix between exhausted and amused as you try to fight him at the bar, crying about how you can’t go home with him because you have a boyfriend already and you love him. It’s cute but people are starting to look distressed and he even thinks he sees some people on the phone starting to call the police, his gruff and blank face does the situation no favors. No amount of reassurances seem to quell you so eventually he just tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and marches to the door. One guy actually tries to block the door, thinking you were in danger, and Krueger tries to get around him but the man is insistent and the both of them are getting more agitated as time passes so he eventually just clocks the man in the face, knocking him out cold before dragging you home.

Keegan

“That so?” Keegan hums when you try to push him away while claiming that you already have a boyfriend, a smirk on his face as he leans into your face, snickering at how your nose scrunches up so cutely. “I think I could take him in a fight.” He says, only growing more giddy with how you vehemently deny it, telling him how your boyfriend could kick his ass sooooo easily. He’s delighted by your loyalty even while in such a state and he chuckles, nipping your nose and pulling you into his arms, nuzzling the top of your head as you bang your fists against his chest and shoulders. “C’mon, Doll. It’s time to go home. And in the morning we can talk more about this boyfriend of yours.”

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 1

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Magical Orthodontry...

(I should probably mention that my thoughts about plastic surgery/any kind of cosmetic enhancement are pretty much that as long as the person who has it done likes the result, it does not matter if anybody else thinks they needed it.

It’s their body, their choice and if they think they look prettier with a new nose/straighter teeth/fuller lips, good for them.

For myself, I love what braces did for my teeth and what one of those heatless curler things currently does for my hair lol)

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

It was bad. 

Eira shouldn’t have expected any differently. 

Maybe it had been the promise of mail-order catalogues that had made her think that maybe this time she wasn’t going to want to die halfway through her biannual week of torture…

But there was nothing the shadows could do, short of giving her pain potions that rendered her unconscious and plying her with soup. 

She let them. 

She was too weak to protest, in too much pain…feeling like a baby bird that needed them to slowly spoon broth in her mouth so that she only needed to swallow. 

But at least they were there. They didn’t leave her alone. Regardless of when she woke up…at what time of day or night…they were there. 

Ready with pain potions and armed with soup, and when she just needed something to get her mind off the pain, they told her stories. 

Little fables of Illyria and Prythian…children’s stories. 

Maybe one day she could tell the same stories to Nyx. 

It took 4 days… halfway through that week, when there was a knock at her door. 

Elain, the shadows whispered into her ear and she held back a groan. 

She didn’t want to deal with her sister. 

“Come in!” she called nonetheless and only then realised that she still had the key in the lock. The shadows swarmed out to turn it and then disappeared, scurrying underneath her desk. 

She forced herself to sit up, wondering how much of a mess she looked…probably like death warmed over twice, but to be completely honest…she wasn’t pretty on a good day, so what did it matter? 

Becoming Fae had somehow perfected the faces of her sisters. They still looked like themselves, but the cauldron had seemingly made them much more symmetrical, their limbs longer, their ears pointed…and for Elain, the cauldron…it had turned her from beautiful into otherworldly gorgeousness. 

For Eira…it had made her ears pointy. 

No, wait that wasn’t true…Her hair was seemingly even more unmanageable than it ever had been as a human…and her teeth…the less was said about that was better. 

She had already been self-conscious about them as a human. As a fae, surrounded by ridiculously attractive people every day, it was…something else entirely. 

“Good Morning,” Eira said quietly. Elain stared at her, surprise etched on her face. 

“Have you really spent the few days moping in your bed?” she asked, judgment clear in her voice. Eira wanted to bristle. Hadn’t Elain done the exact same thing when she had first been made? And Elain hadn’t had the excuse of a cycle for it. 

“Yes, Elain,” she said back quietly. “It’s….It’s that time of the year,” she mumbled, looking at everything but her sister. If Elain couldn’t even smell the thick cloying scent of blood that was clinging to Eira, she couldn’t help her. 

Elain just harrumphed.  “Look, I do realise that I may have been needlessly harsh,” she said, crossing her arms. Somehow managing to sound gracious even now.“But you do need to realise, Eira, that that is never going to go anywhere.” 

Eira blinked. Twice. 

Somebody put her heart into a vice and crushed it. 

Of all the things she had expected Elain to say…this wasn’t it. 

“Azriel is completely disinterested,” Elain continued. “And it would be better for you if you finally realised that.” 

“What does it matter to you?” Eira finally managed to bring out, her voice thankfully not shaking…And still….she sounded…weak. That’s what she sounded like. 

“I want you to be happy. And thirsting after a male that will never return your affections you won’t do that,” Elain said with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not going to change his mind, Eira.”

Eira flinched at Elain’s words. She couldn’t help it. 

Even when she knew…she knew her sister was right. She knew that…

“You should just stop your pathetic attempts of flirting with him. All you manage is to make him uncomfortable,” Elain continued with a roll of her eyes. 

Pathetic attempts of flirting? What did Elain even mean? Her nervous ramblings? Her stolen glances? The way her heart skipped a beat when she got to see him? 

She had never asked him out…on a date or anything else…she had never even mentioned courting in his near vicinity. She had done nothing, said nothing to Azriel that made her feelings obvious to him. 

It was all just…

“There are plenty of fish in the sea…” Elain said with a sigh. “You’ll find somebody else one day,” Elain told her, sounding some mixture between pitying and bored, as she turned to go. “Do you want me to ask Feyre to send Madja?”

“No, thank you. I have pain potions,”  Eira whispered, and Elain turned on her heel, marching back out of her room. 

Eira listened to her sister leave…she buried her face in her pillows.  

“Would you lock the door, please?” She whispered. 

Nobody else. Just her.

Why shouldn’t Elain once again stab her in the same wound…why not?  Why…

And then…somehow it was like somebody flipped a switch. 

She turned angry. Angry at Elain, at her twin sister. Who hid behind this veil of sisterly worry and only used it to hurt Eira?

She was so…she was so…She was so angry. 

She never was angry.  But right now it was swelling beneath her skin and she wanted…she wanted… Not revenge. Not really. 

She made Azriel uncomfortable with what? With nervous ramblings and stolen glances? 

Fine. She would stop that. She would stop all of that. 

She wouldn’t even talk to him again, so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable. She would ignore him. She would be icily polite and that was that. 

And she would find herself a husband and have all the babies she wanted and that would be that. She would find herself…somebody else. Somebody who wanted her.  Somebody for whom she wasn’t annoying…who she didn’t make uncomfortable.

Somebody for herself. 

Something for herself. 

She would fill her room with stupid trinkets she bought herself because nobody else would do it for her. She would buy pretty dresses that tried to mask that she wasn’t as pretty as her sisters. She would do all of that. 

And what her sisters thought about any of that…well, she didn’t fucking care. Not anymore. 

She wasn’t the only one angry. The shadows were hissing, spitting, swirling menacingly, nearly filling the whole room…and she wasn’t scared. That didn’t even cross her mind.

How dares she? The shadows hissed. She owed you an apology, not…not this.

Maybe for the first time in her life, Eira Archeron wanted to be utterly and completely selfish. 

Nobody was going to put her first. Not if she didn’t do it herself. 

“I’ll be buying myself something horribly expensive,” she finally said, her voice shaking. 

Do it, the shadows said, amusement bleeding into their voice, still angrily swirling, coming to wrap around her wrists. Buy whatever you want.

They dropped a catalogue next to her hands, and Eira reached out to take it with shaky hands. 

Whatever she wanted. 

The problem was only, she had no idea what she wanted. 

Maybe a new dress? Maybe some jewellery…like a necklace? Or a bracelet? 

A ring?

Like the rings her sisters had? Given to them by their mates, who loved them? 

Feyre’s Sapphire? The Ruby that encircled Nesta’s finger since her mating ceremony? 

Or maybe Elain’s ring…gold and diamond, looking like the rays of the sun, so fitting for the future wife of the heir to the Day Court. 

No. No jewellery. 

These godforsaken pearl earrings had been enough. 

Something Eira wanted. Something Eira needed. 

Eira could use a new pair of shoes. She already had brought her old ones to the cobbler thrice. Maybe…that wasn’t a ridiculous request after all…

She opened the catalogue, paging through it until she found the shoe section. She stared at the little pictures accompanying them. Humans hadn’t yet figured out how to do print in full colour, but the drawings on this page were brightly colourful. Clearly not a problem here in Prythian. 

She quickly slipped over the pages that had silk slippers and pretty heels on them. That wasn’t practical to run after Nyx with, right? Then she found a page with practical leather shoes… decisively female, a small heel…they weren’t that dissimilar to human fashion. 

She examined them closer. “Laces or Buckle? What do you think?” she asked the shadows. The ones with shoelaces were cheaper…but if she bought one with the buckles, she could also change them out, buy extra buckles…swap them with a crystal-embellished buckle or silver for gold…

All of that was possible. 

The ones with the buckles! The shadows said quickly. 

“They are pretty, aren’t they?” Eira commented and marked the page by folding down one corner as she turned the page. 

Definitely one contender. 

She couldn’t remember ever having done anything similar before. 

When she had still been human, as a child her mother had reigned over her wardrobe with an iron fist. They had never been allowed to pick out anything. 

And then later…after they had lost their fortune…well, picking out anything involved turning around every clipped copper coin. 

She had never been able to just…leisurely look at things and find the pretty and think about buying them…without even really looking at the price tag attached to them. 

Eira flipped back to the shoes, the tip of her finger tracing the writing…she had always been atrocious at reading. The letter tended to change their position, and it hadn’t changed as a Fae either. and she could never tell that to anybody, because the one time she had, her finger had been violently rapped by a wooden ruler and that had been that. 

If she just took her time…carefully…it worked. Just took her longer. She found the price attached to the shoes, knowing that even without the shadows, she could afford them. 

She had stashed away money in the chest at the foot of her bed after all. Not a lot but…enough for the shoes. 

Eira paged through more of the catalogue…oohing and awwing over dresses, where the shadows tried to talk her into buying herself a ballgown much to her amusement, though in the end, they agreed on a pretty blue-grey dress with billowing sleeves cuffed at her wrist…

Eira would never feel comfortable in the Night Court fashion of cropped tops and pants…she would much rather be covered up completely. But that dress…that looked quite pretty. 

She turned to the next page, and the next after that, trawling her way through skirts and cardigans and shirt waists…

And then Eira found the fabric section, biting her lip. Any time she had gone to a fabric shop in Velaris, it had been to buy fabric for a gift for her sisters. Never for herself. She didn��t need anything. 

That’s pretty, the shadows whispered in her ear, seemingly solidifying to point out a specific cotton print on that page. 

She wondered how they even saw anything. They didn’t have eyes. But then magic seemed to be the answer to nearly everything in Prythian. 

It was pretty. A ditsy little floral print…white ground, green leaves…It was pretty. So was a white cotton gauze with little dots…that was the one that she considered seriously. The price was good…she could use a new dress for her birthday…

She marked that page as well, flipping over to the next…and there it was. 

It was an advertisement that caught her eye, and she was nearly flicking to the next page as she caught the word teeth. 

“Faes can fix teeth?“ she asked weakly, as she read that advertisement, a promise about cosmetic procedures…like full lashes and eyebrows and…perfect teeth. 

Perfect teeth. 

“Could they fix mine?” she asked, desperation bleeding into her voice. 

Her teeth were…well, her greatest insecurity on a good day. They were…fine. It wasn’t painful at least. It was just that her two front teeth were too big for her face…which made her look like…

What’s wrong with your teeth? Do they hurt you? You’ll need a healer for that, the shadows said immediately, worriedly. 

“They are too big. Just the two front teeth. I look like a rabbit,”  she admitted in a whisper. Or a mole rat. Her mother had preferred the latter. 

Everything else could be fixed one way or another…but nothing could be fixed for her teeth. 

When she had been a child she had still hoped that she would grow into them, but that had never happened. 

And not even the cauldron had thought it would be prudent to fix them. Leaving her with them…still standing out starkly. 

They were the reason why she never smiled widely, why she made sure to talk with her lips pulled over them…why she didn’t wear bright lipstick. 

A few dozen things that she didn’t do because of them. 

You do not look like a rabbit, the shadows disagreed with a snort…and then after a moment:  Do they bother you?

They asked that like it was a near foreign thing…like…

“My mother used to…She used to tell me that…” She tried to bring the words over her lips but she choked on them. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t…

Once you feel better, you can go and have them changed to however you want to look, the shadows told her softly. Do they truly bother you that much?

“I know that I won’t ever be the beautiful one. But…if…If I could just feel…just feel pretty…just once,” she whispered, staring at that advertisement. 

If they could just fix her teeth… 

As soon as you feel better, the shadows promised her. But that’s not ridiculously expensive. Neither is one single pair of shoes, that dress….or a few yards of that fabric. Nearly teasing. 

But it was nice teasing. Sweet teasing. Teasing that did nothing but make a small smile appear on her face. 

“I could always buy more fabric,” she gave back, biting her lip and the shadows tugged at her fingers in response. 

But if magic could fix her teeth…maybe it could also fix her hair. 

A light brown mess on her head that never did what she wanted it to do… 

“Is there something for my hair as well?” she asked hesitantly, and the shadows flipped through her catalogue until it brought her to a page with hair care supplies. 

There are potions you can use…enchanted brushes too, they told her. You’ll want something for naturally curly hair.  

They didn’t need to tell Eira that twice. 

The morning she stopped bleeding she was out on the streets of Velaris as soon as the sun rose…dropping off the dresses she had hemmed, and picking up her newest commissions and then walking to that shop that promised her perfect teeth. 

It was a woman, a female, her age who looked up from the magazine she was reading, took one look at her, asked for a handful of gold coins…gave her a mirror in her hand and then drily said: “Just say stop when they have the size you want.”

And that was that. 

Eira could have wept with her gratitude. 

Her teeth looked perfect. Just like she had so often hoped they would look. 

The same could be said about her hair after one bath with her new potions and a run-through with her enchanted brush. 

Unmanageable frizzy hair that never looked like she wanted it to look? 

With magic no more. Thick, perfect, glossy curls fell over her shoulders in fat ringlets. 

To say that she was in a good mood after that…It was the understatement of a dozen centuries at least. 

Eira was ecstatic. 

She loved it. She felt…she felt so pretty. For once. 

“Good Morning!” she chirped as she entered the dining room. Not even the sight of Elain pouring over her wedding binders could put a dent in her happiness that morning. 

“Good Morning,” Elain responded, staring at her like she had gone mad but Eira didn’t care, as she poured herself a cup of tea, took a slice of toast, smeared jam all over it... 

“It’s a beautiful day outside, isn’t it?” she asked brightly, as she took a bite, chewed, swallowed…

Elain stared at her. 

“Eira…what did you do with your teeth?” her sister asked her, staring at her. 

“I got them fixed! Isn’t that great? Magic can do that!” she enthused. They were perfect! They looked just like she wanted them to look!

It was like thunder pulled over Elain’s expression. “You can’t be serious!” she snapped. “What were you thinking?!”

“That I got my teeth fixed?”  Eira gave back questioningly. What did it even matter to Elain? Couldn’t she just be happy? Eira was so fucking happy about her choice. 

“This doesn’t change things, Eira!” Elain said harshly. “It’s still never going to go anywhere!”

She opened her mouth to respond, but she was beaten to it. 

“What is never going to go anywhere?” Feyre’s voice came from the doorway as she entered, Nyx on her hips, staring around the room…waving chubby little arms in Eira’s direction that made her smile at him brightly. 

“Eira’s little crush on Azriel,” Elain said evenly. “He’s completely disinterested. and she has gone and gotten her teeth fixed in some hare-brained attempt to…”

“What does it matter to you?” Eira interrupted her. This had nothing to do with…him. This had been for her. Because she was the one her teeth bothered, long before she had ever even met him.  “They aren’t your teeth.” 

Feyre stared at her and Eira smiled brightly, showing all her teeth…something she would have never done before. But now she did. 

“Your teeth were fine before,” Feyre told her, staring at her like she couldn’t quite believe that Eira had gone and done this.  

“My teeth were too big for my mouth,” Eira disagreed. And really, she didn’t understand why she even needed to defend herself on this. “The last time I checked I was allowed to do with my body whatever I wanted,” she murmured under her breath. 

And this…this was harmless. This was just fixing her teeth. It didn’t hurt anybody. Not her, not anybody else…

Feyre didn’t seem convinced. “How much money did you spend on this?” her sister asked her, a sharpness sinking into her voice and Eira crossed her arms. 

“Not a single coin that belongs to you or your mate,” she gave back, her voice cold. “I spend my money, money I earned, on something that I wanted.” 

She was allowed to want things. Whatever she wanted, the shadows had promised her and they had kept that promise. 

“Did you do this because of Azriel?” Feyre asked, softening slightly. “Eira, that’s not going to work.”

She knew that. 

“My whole life does not revolve around other people,” Eira said calmly, meeting her sister's gaze. “I wanted it.”

“He’s still not going to be interested in you,” Elain snorted. 

Once again. Hitting that one weak spot her sister had sussed out. 

People always thought that Elain was oh-so-sweet. What they forgot was that even the most beautiful, most fragrant rose had its thorns. 

She said nothing. Didn’t flinch away. Didn’t say anything. 

“It’s true,” Feyre said with a sigh, actually agreeing with Elain. “I have wanted to talk to you about that, Eira…” her sister said, visibly uncomfortable. “Could you at least try to get over him? It’s…it would be better for…this court.”

Of course, it would be. This court. 

Because that’s what mattered, right? That’s what mattered to the High Lady. 

That the court was functional. That the spymaster wasn’t uncomfortable…that her sister wasn’t having a ridiculous puppy crush on another member of this court.  

And what was Eira supposed to say to this? 

What was she supposed to say to that? 

Eira’s feelings didn’t really matter anyway. They were nothing but an inconvenience. 

“I am sorry,” she said, her voice quiet, staring at her hands so that she didn’t need to look at two of her sisters…so they wouldn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes. “I’ll make sure that my feelings won’t inconvenience anybody else ever again.”

“That’s not…” Feyre started, but Eira shook her head.

“I understand,” she said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth, all her appetite gone, as she stood to go back to her room. 

[redhead1180]

A Good Friday Night

Rafe x fem!reader x JJ

I'm horny I don't know what to tell you. No plot, just SMUT. 3some with p in v and anal.

MDNI

You don't know how it happened, but here you were at a party locked in a bedroom, again, with Rafe Cameron and JJ Maybank. Currently, JJ was eating out like you were his last meal, making you see fucking stars. Meanwhile, Rafe had hands wrapped around your hair as he face fucked you into oblivion.

"Shit Maybank her mouth feels like fucking heaven" Rafe panted as he thrust hard into your mouth.

You were gagging with each thrust, he was hitting the back of your throat so hard. You had spit and cum squeezing out your mouth from him.

JJ pulled his head back, making you whine from him stopping, "She's so fucking sweet Cameron, god damn it's like a damn buffet"

You reached for his head to push him back down, making him chuckle "I coming back darling, don't worry" as his lips reattached to your clit and he shoved two fingers in your pussy. You moaned loudly around Rafe, causing him to groan and thrust faster.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum, shitshitshit" He panted as you felt ropes of his seed shoot down your throat. "Fuck baby, you took that so damn good." He praised as he kissed you passionately.

His climax caused the band in your stomach to snap and you cum all over JJ fingers and face, and all you could hear was him slurping up all your juices as they pushed out. JJ raised up wiping his mouth and smiling.

"Good fucking girl, making your daddies proud tonight" JJ smiled down at you.

You feel like a ragdoll, your orgasm making your limbs feel like jelly.

JJ laid down and pulled you on top of him as Rafe slid down the bed behind you.

"No darling, we ain't done with you yet" JJ drawled out, his southern accent heavy. He held you up and lined his cock up with your pussy, running his tips through your folds and spreading around your juices. He pulled you down on his cock and you moaned from the stretch.

"Fuucckk" JJ moaned as he filled you up. "shit baby this pussy is so tight. Gonna make me nut before I move"

"Keep it together Maybank" Rafe bit out to JJ.

"Bro, I got it, get a move on down there" JJ huffed.

"Will you two shut up and fuck me already" you groaned.

Rafe slapped you ass hard, causing you to clench up around JJ, making him moan with pleasure. JJ pulled you down and slammed his lips to your, forcing his tongue in and dominating your mouth. You felt Rafe spread your cheeks and spit on your puckered hole. You whimpered in JJ's mouth as Rafe spread it around. You felt the tip of his cock against your hole and forced yourself to relax.

"That's right baby, relax for big daddy" Rafe cooed as he slowly pushed his cock into your hole. Your grabbed at JJ's shoulders, moaning into his mouth. JJ pulled away "Really, big daddy huh?" He questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"Shit the fuck Maybank" Rafe hissed, clearly concentrating. You threw your head back and released a pornographic moan as Rafe bottomed out. Your nails dug into JJ's shoulders as you panted in his neck.

"That's it Mama, taking us so good, that's our girl" JJ hummed in your ear. Slowly him and Rafe began thrusting into you until they found a rhythm. All you could do was hang on as they used you like a fuck toy. You never felt so full, well maybe last time this happened, but it was like a drug. The both of them inside you was an addiction.

You're body felt so alive, your stomach and core tingles as your toes curled. All three of you were panting and sweaty as your climaxes built. In between panting and moans, Rafe and JJ gave you praises. You could distantly hear "Such a good girl" "Fuck you feel amazing" "So dam tight baby" and other praise as they pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Rafe grabbed your hair and pulled you back to his chest, JJ reaching down to rub your clit.

"Fuck, daddies, m'close" You screamed

"c'mon baby let go for us" Rafe rasped in your ear.

That was all it took to hurl you over the edge. Your release hit you like a freight train and you screamed grabbing Rafe's hair and JJ's arm. Your vision went white as you coated JJ's cock with your release.

"shit shit shit, fuck" JJ groaned as you felt him cum inside you. Rafe was grunting your ear as he continued to slam into you. He groaned and bit your shoulder as you felt his release inside you. You were limp as Rafe laid you on JJ and pulled out. He spread your cheeks watching as his cum spilled out of you.

"Damn baby, that's so fucking hot" Rafe chuckled.

JJ gently rolled you onto your side, pulling out slowly. He pushed your hair out of your face and planted kisses on your face and neck. "You did so good Mama, so damn good, for us."

You smiled and sighed. Rafe slid up behind you and wrapped his arm around you. "How about we get you in the bath and clean you up" Rafe murmured in you ear.

"Yeah, I'd like that" you sigh as Rafe picks you and carries your the ensuite bathroom, while JJ got the bath running.

They both gave you a kiss as they placed you in the water "Our good girl"

You just grinned and bit your lip. Turned out not too bad of a Friday night after all.

Tag moots @princessmaybank @acooltalebouquet @drudyslut @blueicequeen19 @rafescurtainbangz @rafesthroatbaby @haven247 @oceandriveab @starfxkr @echo-at-the-pond @moremaybank @starkeysprincess @babygorewhore

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Fourteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Secrets are revealed, relationships are tested, and the arrival of new guests at the River House make things all the more complicated. Oh and some canon typical violence.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

There was something cold and damp against your forehead, the bitter taste of medicine lingered on your tongue, dry and acrid, and a faint pulsing near the base of your skull.

“She’s waking up.” Gwyn’s voice came to your ears through fifteen feet of water. “You can hold her hand, if you’d like. She can handle it now.”

A hand slid into yours, palms calloused from hundreds of years spent swinging a sword. Warm and heavy. Golden light pricked behind your eyes like sunlight through thin curtains and you woke up to the sun smiling down on you, red-eyed and weary.  

“Helion?” His healing touch traveled over you, whisking away any remaining tenderness in your stomach. You whimpered when he wove his fingers through your hair, gently peeling apart any tangles. It felt nice to be touched by him. Safe.

“I’m here.” 

“It hurts,” you murmured, even though you couldn’t identify the pain very well. It seemed to exist both within you and outside of you, pressing down on your chest until even breathing felt unnatural. Everything just… hurt. Your head, your heart, your throat. Like you’d swallowed a mouthful of hot ash. “I’m so… I’m so tired.” 

Again Helion combed your hair back with his fingers and you felt the sore spot on the back of your head prickle when he touched it. The blood had been cleaned, the wound closed, but you could still feel it there like a stamp sinking into your skin. The same way you could feel the stretch of scar tissue over your stomach. A thick, pale line a few inches below your sternum.  

“You’re ok, my dear. Rest. I won’t let anything hurt you.” 

“Thanks Dad,” you whispered, but you were already slipping away. You wouldn’t remember what you called him when you woke up again. 

Helion gritted his teeth and brushed away the stray tears that dripped down your cheeks, then his own. 

“I won’t let anything hurt you,” he said to the empty air.

The next time you awoke was not so pleasant. There was no caressing hand down your face. No slow murmurs from your father. No warm light blinking in the darkness. 

There was the banging of doors. Cassian’s alarmed shouts mixing with Rhysand and Mor’s, and Feyre’s commands for Nyx to take Velaria upstairs and lock the door behind them.

“Don’t come down until I get you, ok sweetie?” The boy’s footsteps were light and quick up the stairs as he calmed a startled Velaria with gentle coos. 

“Gwyn?” You reached across the bed for the priestess’s hand. Her robes looked like they were glowing to your sleep-dazed eyes. 

Her teal eyes were hard. The grip on her knife tight. 

“Gwyn, what’s happening?”

“Shhhh. Go back to sleep.” 

Helion roared and the River House shook down to its foundations. The silky covers stuck to your weak arms, slippery and cool as you gripped Gwyn’s arm and forced yourself to stand. Your knees immediately buckled and Gwyn’s awaiting arms caught you in a sprawl of heavy limbs. 

The House trembled once more. The wooden banisters creaked. The faelights that sat on swooping, wrought iron curls blinked on and off, signaling the House’s alarm as the floor slipped and slid beneath your feet. Help me! The House seemed to shout. 

“Gwyn.” 

“Hold onto me.” 

You leaned heavily against the priestess’s side, her arm wrapped around your waist, and together you stumbled out the door and into the hallway. 

You blinked, eyes adjusting to the lamplight just as Cassian flew across the room, crashing into the fireplace mantle in a burst of color that had you turning pale. The glass figurines and picture frames cracked and shattered in a rain of glass. But Cass only grumbled, “This is what I get for helping,” before bouncing onto his feet and charging back into the foyer where Rhysand, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor stood. Rhysand kept his arm out in front of the two sisters and grabbed Mor’s arm before she could step further. 

“Let them go.” Rhys said, his voice low and deadly. He knew something they didn’t. “Helion has a right to this.” 

“It wasn’t Azriel’s fault,” Mor seethed.

“Doesn’t matter. I’d do the same if anyone hurt Velaria.” 

“What the hell does that—” 

Helion slammed Azriel’s bloody and bruised body against the wall with a snarl. The shattered vases in the hallway and the blood dripping from Azriel's broken nose clear evidence that you'd stumbled upon this fight a few minutes late.

Helion held a fistful of black leather in one hand and a gleaming sword of pure light angled up just beneath Azriel’s sternum in the other. His skin burned so brightly even Azriel’s shadows had slunk away to seek shelter in the few remaining dark corners of the House.

“You bastard,” Helion spit out the words like venom. 

Azriel hung limp and exhausted, wings brushing against the floor. The bruises beneath his eyes and the cut of his cheeks spoke of days spent without sleep. Days spent prowling Velaris for Andrian. Days spent waiting outside your door for you to wake up. 

“You think I don’t see what game you’re playing? This pathetic pattern of yours?” Helion’s eyes flashed a dangerous yellow. 

“Helion!” Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be. “Let him go!”

“It’s not a game,” Azriel said through gritted teeth. “It’s never been a game. Not with her.” “Don’t. Lie. To. Me,” Helion snarled. He pulled Azriel off the wall only to slam him back into it. Cracks splintered out like spiderwebs. Dust floated down and landed in Azriel’s hair like snow. “It wasn’t so long ago that you were convinced enough about a mating bond with Elain to invoke a fucking Blood Duel with Lucien Vanserra. Now you’re chasing after Y/n’s skirts like a dog? Looking at her with lovesick eyes as if being near you won’t bring anything but death on her head?” 

You went still.

He’d… he’d challenged Elain’s mate to a Blood Duel?

He’d believed they were mates?

All at once it made sense why Elain and Lucien had disappeared to the Mortal Lands, chased away by a violence that should have ended with either Lucien or Azriel ritualistically buried in the ground. Nothing but a pint of blood and a name to remember them by. All at once it made sense why it had been so long since their family had lived under one roof. 

Your words shriveled up in your throat and died there.

Azriel stiffened, eyes flashing dangerously. 

Helion clicked his tongue in disapproval. “You’re not the only one who hears whispers, Shadowsinger,” he hissed. “First it was Mor you pined after for five-hundred years, then Elain, then the priestess. One right after the other like a prize just out of reach.” 

Gwyn tensed beside you and your heart tightened in your chest like untempered glass ready to shatter. 

“Gwyn?” You whispered. 

You had no right to Azriel, no right to know about his past exploits with females, but still it felt like something you should have been told after long nights spent in the priestess’s presence. Months of living under their roof, eating their food, and falling in love without a whisper of warning. The things they must have whispered about when you weren’t in the room. 

Her silence was all you needed to hear. Greasy and rotten.

Azriel’s hands shook the more Helion spoke. 

“You like your females broken and vulnerable. You like it when they need you. When you get to swoop in feeling like some grand hero. So you felt you had the right to go after my daughter! And then you were too weak to protect her when the time came? You dared to lay a hand on her are you fucking kidding me?!”

The world froze at those two words. The Inner Circle was shocked into complete silence. 

You swayed dangerously as the floor tilted beneath your bare feet. 

Is that what they thought of you? Is that what Azriel thought of you? Broken. Weak. Pathetic. Someone who couldn’t handle their own. Someone who had needed saving. An easy target to charm and dazzle. A Librarian who’d been left alone for so long she’d throw herself at the first handsome male who smiled in her direction. 

Azriel stiffened. 

You were Helion’s daughter. And somehow that made everything worse, because Azriel knew how lonely you’d been as a child and how much losing your mother had nearly destroyed you. You’d shoved yourself into the Alcove where everything was familiar and safe, and all this time Helion had just stood by and done the bare minimum. 

Azriel had been holding back his rage — his pain — but he felt it erupt with new passion. Lingering jealousy, that acid that had been building up every time you mentioned Helion or touched the necklace he’d gifted you, added fuel to the fire. Shadows burst out from his hands and ate away at Helion’s magic like a plague.

“Don’t you dare,” Azriel growled and spit blood onto the floor by Helion's feet, “You weren’t even here. She could have died on those streets.” His voice was hoarse and on the verge of breaking, “And you wouldn’t have been there.” 

And he might not have been there either. 

Rhys had held him back, refusing to let go even as Azriel had tried to crawl to you on broken bones. Even as Azriel had screamed for you. 

Helion's face twisted into something ugly and foreign to you, because deep down he knew the true reason he was so enraged at the Shadowsinger. It was like looking in a mirror. They’d failed you in similar ways. 

“Helion… Helion no!” But your father didn’t listen. 

His power shot out in a blaze of light and heat and slammed into Azriel’s chest. His shadows were barely able to soften the blast. Azriel saw you then, shock and horror seeping down the bond along with something that felt a lot like heartbreak. You watched wide-eyed and slack jawed as the wall bowed out and then snapped in two. Azriel was thrown onto the front lawn, a gaping tear left in the House like a knife wound. 

Helion stepped outside and stalked up to Azriel like a lion out for blood. There was murder and hatred in his eyes. 

Everyone was shouting again as he raised his sword. 

You felt a flare of something bright and hot in your chest, like a shot of whiskey or the first bleeding rise of the sun. You stood up on your own, eyes burning with a glassy, gold sheen that had Gwyn stepping away from you with a gasp. You were glowing, pure and clear and strong. 

You’d only felt like this twice before. First, when you’d grabbed hold of Henna and stopped hiding who you really were, and then once more at the Palace of Hoof and Leaf mere minutes before Azriel had turned the book to ash. Both moments where your power demanded to be felt. Moments when your emotions turned to magic. 

“Helion.” Your voice echoed throughout the room and into the wide open space beyond, eerie and calm. So loud. So quiet. Like an aching whisper in pitch black darkness. “Let. Him. Go.”

Helion blinked in surprise with his arms still raised over his head. Inch by inch that blade of bright light faded away with the dying light of a sunset. His eyes cooled and that magic rage left his body. He staggered away from where Azriel lay on the ground. 

Your hands were trembling, but you forced them to be calm as Azriel got back on his feet, hazel eyes boring into yours. He drank in the sight of you. Your wrapped forearm. The white bandages around your middle peering through your thin nightgown. Your clean hair. 

The smell of blood was but a distant nightmare, even if he swore he could still feel it on his ruined hands. Slippery and dark. 

You turned to leave.

“Y/n, wait!” Azriel shoved a stunned Helion out of his way, racing back into the House in a blur of darkness. “Y/n,” he begged and reached out his hand, “Please let me explain.” 

You froze. The weight of his hand wrapping around your wrist and the rough feel of his scars against your fluttering pulse pinned you to the floor. You felt uncentered — off kilter — and without meaning to, you were thrust into his mind. 

You felt the way he’d pined after Mor for centuries. Always close by. Waiting. Watching for the moment she might actually look at him and realize what he was willing to become for her. Someone to love and kiss and take to bed. Someone who’d never have cast her off into that wood. Someone who would do whatever she asked until she was smiling and whole again. 

You felt the way he looked at Gwyn, like she could be the answer to all his questions. Like she could be the one to hone all his sharp edges with her delicate smile and her creamy skin and dewdrop eyes. Because if she could love him, it might actually mean something. It would mean he was capable of fixing, not just destroying. 

You… you knew the ways he’d imagined Elain. Three sisters for three brothers. Mates. Fate. Love. How he’d imagined touching her. How he had touched her. The thrill of hiding away in dark corners and the soft skin of her fragile neck beneath his lips. The arch of her back. Wood grain beneath his fingers as he pressed her up against a wall and kissed her. How he couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else ever again. 

You felt the acidic contents of your stomach surge and wrenched your hand out of his grasp. 

Azriel faltered, eyes wide and staring. Something inside of him fractured and broke. You hadn’t pulled away from him like that since Summer Solstice back when you were strangers and meant nothing to one another. But even then you hadn’t looked at him with this much feeling. This much betrayal. 

His arm was still outstretched and hanging in the empty air. 

Tears dotted your eyes, but you forbid them from falling. Not in front of him. Never in front of him. 

“I am not broken.” 

You went back to your room and slammed the door shut. 

“I thought he liked me,” you murmured pathetically, leaning against Helion’s side. He’d slid into your room quietly and approached you like a wounded animal ready to scatter. 

Your father hesitated, fingers caught in hair that reminded him so painfully of Leda — of your mother. Things had not ended well between them, but he could think of her with nothing less than fondness and gratitude. After all, Leda had given birth to you. Brilliant, wonderful, beautiful you. 

He listened to the House and the way it seemed to be holding its breath. The doors shut a little tighter. The curtains hugged the windows. And across the hall shadows lingered by the door of Azriel’s room, reaching out towards yours but never crossing the threshold. They were held back by their master’s tight leash. 

“I know this might come as a surprise after what I did, but I… He did like you. He does like you. They all do. How could they not?”

You shook your head slowly. “But not in the way I want him to. Not in the way I lo—” You shut your mouth and sighed bitterly. Your cheeks flushed with warmth and before you knew it you were crying again, leaking tears onto Helion’s bare shoulder and feeling wretched. 

Azriel curled in on himself, collapsed on the floor like a broken doll with knees pulled up to his chest as he ignored the pulling of his shadows. 

She needs you. She needs you. She needs you. They repeated over and over again, yanking on his leathers and strands of ebony black hair. Helion had left for one of the guest bedrooms upstairs after you cried yourself to sleep. Now was Azriel’s chance to beg for your forgiveness. To explain himself. To hope.

She needs you.

Azriel shrugged them off, scattering their disembodied voices with a wave of his gloved hand. He was back to wearing them. 

I am the last thing she needs.

“Lucien’s found one of Bethsevah’s descendants.” 

Gwyn stood by the doorway, pale skin and blue robes outlined by the mountain’s red walls. The priestess kept her hands behind her back, wringing them in a nervous twist of bitten fingernails, and waited for you to finally look up from your notes. 

You didn’t like spending time at the House. You hated the way everyone’s attention shifted to you whenever you entered a room; the look of tight, empathetic smiles and knowing glances filling their eyes. It wasn’t that they were trying to be unkind, but you knew they whispered about the power you’d displayed. About your status as Helion’s bastard daughter. About the absolute state that Azriel was in. 

This morning, when you’d left your room for Cagniv Library, Azriel had been waiting, filling his bedroom door frame with a hauntingly tortured look in his eyes. 

“Y/n, please—” 

You’d left without a second glance in his direction, footsteps hurried and head bowed down. His shadows had followed you to the front steps of the house, but no further and you couldn’t help but feel a weight in your chest thinking about how Azriel had looked. He’d started wearing the gloves again. 

Bethsevah’s name rang through the air like a jolt of electricity. After thousands of years, her name still held a strength that demanded to be felt. The book was gone. Whatever magic Azriel had been forced to perform had swept it away to the Continent, and Rhys and Feyre had been wracked with worry and preparations ever since. Favors called in. Threats made. Weapons forged. Bodies armed. At any point they might be called away to the Continent, or forced to reckon with a Death God at their door. 

You’d helped in your own way by digging through your notes on mating bonds and the manuscript that was becoming more useful each day. 

Thanatos and the Bone Carver, one and the same, and mated to Bethsevah Mordeigh. Magic that wasn’t the same, but perfectly complementary. Magic that worked as a lock and a key. 

You were made to ruin me.

Your initial theory, the one you’d shared with Azriel in that cramped apartment at the Alcove, had turned out to be true. Bethsevah, and Bethsevah alone as Thanatos’s mate, had possessed the ability to split him from his power and lock him away, and because his magic was cut from the same kind as his siblings, Beth had been able to do the same with Stryga and Koschei. Her blood, her genetic connection to that magic, would be the only thing capable of releasing the power in the lake. 

All magic could trace itself back to a biological underpinning. 

You were made to ruin me.

The memory was burned behind your sleepless eyes and haunted your dreams, but sometimes when you stopped concentrating so hard on the harsh angles that made up the Bone Carver’s face, you caught him transforming. Black eyes turned to brandy. His reed thin body filled out and grew strong. Wings sprouted from his back. His pale skin turned tan and scarred.

You were made to ruin me, Y/n. Azriel would say, and you’d pretend that the look of utter love and adoration in his eyes was real. 

“When will they be arriving?” 

Gwyn sighed in relief. You’d been so quiet the last few days. “Tomorrow.” 

Mor bit her cherry red lips, glancing at Rhys and Feyre with worry in her eyes as they all stood in a row ready to greet their guests. Rhys was schooling his features into one of careful neutrality, but Mor had known him for centuries. She’d seen him through his awkward teenage years when his skin wasn’t so perfect and his body grew like a weed in Spring. Back when his temper wasn’t so honed and his ego undeserved. She knew when he was agitated. The squaring of his shoulders. The set of his eyes. The faintest twitch of his left ear. 

What a fucking mess this all was. If he thought about it too hard it gave him a raging headache. 

Azriel and Y/n were mates, although Y/n didn’t know and no one knew how to tell her, especially after Azriel had stabbed her through the chest under Andrian’s influence. Helion had nearly killed Az. Azriel had nearly killed Lucien. And if anyone ever told Lucien about Y/n being his half-sister, he was sure Lucien would try and kill Azriel too… again. And— oh FUCK. Helion didn’t know Lucien was his son. Y/n didn’t Lucien was her half-brother. Fuck fuck FUCK. Cauldron boil me.

Rhysand rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. 

Azriel stood motionless, nothing but the minor sway of his wings and the masked look of anguish in his eyes to hint that he was still reeling from that day in the market square. He couldn’t stop glancing over at where you stood between Mor and Cassian, every inch of your skin covered and a forcefully blank look on your face.

Truth Teller was no longer strapped to his thigh. His shadows had returned, but with hesitance, and Rhys couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen Azriel eat something. Every family meal that you didn’t attend, Azriel would just stare at your empty seat and flinch at the sound of knives dragging through meat.

Feyre winced at the onslaught of Rhysand’s thoughts. Do we even want to attempt to fix any of that right now?

Feyre darling, where would we even begin?

At least Helion’s moved to the House of Wind. Feyre offered it as a small consolation. Took me a while to convince him of that.

Rhys gritted his teeth. And he will stay on that fucking mountain.

Lucien had gone his entire life not knowing about Helion precisely because when he stood next to his brothers he blended in. There was just enough similarity there in the silhouette of their faces and their overwhelmingly bright red hair, that no one had ever batted an eye at the seventh son of Autumn. But put Lucien and Helion side by side and a keen eye would make out the same strong slope of their noses, the same dimples on their cheeks when they smiled, and the way their brow bones hung over deep set eyes.

You possessed such an eye — an eye for details and specifics. So when Lucien Vanserra walked through the front doors with the setting sun splashing his frame with fire and light, Elain glowing and beautiful beside him, you knew immediately who he was. 

Fuuuuccccckkkkkk. Cassian groaned. Nesta, she knows. 

Stop it. There’s no way she figured it out that quickly. Nesta said. Then she actually looked at you. Your mouth was open in a round “o” and your face had gone pale. Oh for fuck’s sake. Really?

Your gaze was locked on Lucien as he walked up to Rhysand and shook his hand. 

“Lucien, welcome back to the Night Court. It’s been too long.” 

His golden eye whirred, moving up and down the line and lingering first on Azriel. His full lips flattened, freckled nose twitching with thinly veiled distaste. “Not long enough.” But his many years spent as emissary wiped the emotion from his face quickly and he moved on, greeting everyone with a detached kindness. 

“Luc.” The High Lady grinned, finally tugging a genuine smile from Lucien Vanserra’s lips. 

“Hey Feyre.” 

She wrapped him in her arms, closing her eyes and giving him a hearty squeeze. 

“It’s good to see you again.” 

“You too.” 

There was a somber familiarity there, and you got the sense that Feyre was the only one Lucien truly felt connected to. Whatever history he had with the other members of the Inner Circle was tolerable at best.

You finally caught his eye — the one strange face he’d never seen before. He easily towered above you, built with Helion’s strong legs and resplendent in a deep green riding cloak and cream-colored trousers that accentuated the tinge of color in his skin and his mismatched eyes. 

He tipped his head to the side, his long braid falling over his shoulder, and smiled softly. “You must be the Librarian that got roped into all of this madness.” Yes. Because that’s all you were to him — some unnamed female from the Day Court. An unfortunate victim of circumstance. “Y/n Halwynn.” 

You blinked, surprised to hear him speak your name so casually when you were reeling over the fact that standing in front of you was another one of Helion’s children. Another bastard that perhaps should never have been. Your half-brother.

“The one and the same.” 

Lucien evaluated the shrewd set of your eyes and the fit of your clothes over straightened shoulders and found that, at first glance, he quite liked you. You were of the bookish variety — that much was evident in the small novels dragging down your pockets and the smudged inkstains on your fingertips — but you held yourself in front of him well. You looked kind, if not skittish. 

“Lucien Vanserra.” He held out his hand and you regarded it with hesitance before accepting it. 

“I know the name.”

“It is a rather infamous last name.” 

“Bit of an infamous first name too.” 

Lucien smiled a little wider. Yes. He quite liked you. 

Elain hugged her sisters in turn, breathing in their familiar scent and gripping them tightly. Her time in the Human Lands had served her well. Gone were the days of frail bones and heavy eyes always looking out sunny windows. Her skin was flush with color, her hands strong and calloused, and her knees pleasantly bruised after months spent laboring in the fields outside Vassa and Jurian’s manor. She smelled like soil and flowers. She was as lovely as everyone had always described her. The second Archeron sister who’d been born with an unnatural beauty even before turning fae. 

Your eyes dropped to the floor so you wouldn’t have to see what Azriel did when she greeted him. But it didn’t matter. They avoided one another carefully, and Azriel kept looking at you, begging you to lift up your eyes so he could offer you a smile. 

A word. 

A glance. 

Anything.

Bethsevah’s descendant appeared next, willful and stunning in her own way as she waited by the door. Her frizzy grey hair was held away from her face with a strap of leather, stormcloud eyes staring out unflinchingly from a time-worn face. Everything about her was grey from her hair to her clothes and the iron jewelry that hung from her neck and wrists. Cassian sometimes forgot how humans wore their age so openly, and how this woman in particular seemed to brandish it like a weapon. 

“Ione Morgana.” Her voice was deep and hardy. Her eyes narrowed at everyone now that the familiar introductions had finished. “That’s my name and it’s the name my family has carried as long as we can remember. Although the redhead seems to believe otherwise. I am old, as you creatures can very well see, and I am tired. My parents are long gone. My sons dead. My sisters dead too. Now,” she banged her walking stick on the ground, although she hadn’t used it when walking up the steps, “Which one of you will see me to my room?” Her words came out more as a command than a question. 

Rhys tipped his head to the side, his surprise evident on his face. “You’re a very bold woman. Do you not comprehend who you’re standing in front of? My wife in particular?” 

“Boldness comes with age.” She stuck her nose in the air like a wolf sniffing for a bunny, “Something you’d do well to learn.” 

An amused smile grew on Rhysand’s face. “I’m over five hundred years old.” 

“You certainly don’t act like it, standing all crooked like a tryhard.” 

Cassian coughed into his fist and Mor snickered. 

“I could kill you.” 

Rhys!

Relax, my love, I’m just curious how she will react. 

The woman — Ione — hardly reacted at all. In fact, she almost smiled. “Time can kill me. Sickness can kill me. At this point a stiff wind could knock me down and break my back. You’re not special.” She whacked her walking stick again, harder this time. “Now. My room?”

Nesta raised and then dipped her head in silent acknowledgement and together they disappeared into the east wing of the house looking like two grey chess pieces moving over the tiles. 

“Wonderful isn’t she?” Elain commented with a fond look in her eyes. She was Ione’s favorite by far.

Jurian came in last, sweat beading his brow as he dragged a huge steel cage up the steps, and Lucien and Elain’s faces turned solemn. Vassa flitted inside her prison — a cage within a cage so that she couldn’t snap at Jurian’s hands when he got too close. His eyes were bloodshot, knuckles bruised and bloody. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. You’d imagined the firebird as something majestic. You’d imagined feathers dipped from the richest dyes trailing light from their ends like red, green, and blue sparklers. Instead, her eyes were the only vibrant feature about her, and they were sharp from hunger. 

“What’s happened to her?” Cassian breathed. When he stepped forward, Vassa lunged from her perch, screeching when she clashed with the steel grate. Her claws tore at the metal but never broke through the magic Lucien had placed there. 

Jurian whispered words of comfort and love through the metal, and in time, Vassa seemed to settle. 

“It started last week,” Lucien said through clenched teeth, “The day Koschei got his hands on the book, Vassa started going mad. She can’t sleep, not in her human form or as a firebird, and she keeps… hungering for something she can’t name. The day we found Ione, she…” 

“She tried to kill me.” Jurian raised his hands and slid his sleeves down. Claw marks, barely healed, ran jagged down his arms. “Let’s not mince words, Lucien.” He grimaced. “Koschei’s trying to call her back to the lake, but she’s fighting it with everything she has.” He looked back at Vassa, eyes dull and tired. She screeched once again and feathers fell from her body before curling up into blackened husks on the floor. You could just make out the sections of skin where she’d ripped out her own feathers, raw and dotted pink with blood. “I suggest you give us a room far away from everyone else.” 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

^^ Me writing this chapter because Helion finally beat the shit out of Azriel and revealed all the tea about his past relationships with Mor, Elain, and Gwyn and because I got to bring Lucien to the Night Court. And soon! We'll get to see how Lucien reacts when he learns that Y/n is his sister!!!!!!!

[starhvney]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ☆ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: dante, gene, laurance

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, teasing and making out, reader is shy and inexperienced with kissing, she asked him to teach her how ;)

𝐂𝐖: none?

𝐀/𝐍: @frannky requested: "omg mystreet boys teaching you how to kiss and they unintentionally make out with you 🤭🤭" um. so yeah i need to be taken out back behind the shed and put down like a dog ty for the scrumptious prompt

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 (coming soon)

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄

“so… you have a crush on someone else, but want me to show you how to kiss?”

timidly you nod, your heart throwing itself against your rib cage in protest of your bold actions. 

“yeah…”

“but you’re not gonna tell me who this guy you have a crush on is?” dante tilts his head, blue hair shifting against his face as he narrows his eyes at you.

the corner of his lips turn up, eyebrows raising when you shake your head no. his fingers reach up to brush the hair from your face, trailing down your cheek and curling under your chin to give it a teasing lift.

“and what would your crush think if he knew you were kissing me? would he be okay with this?”

“um…” you stumble with your words, scrambling for your next excuse. “…yes?”

both of his hands cup the sides of your face, fingertips threading themselves into your hair and head dipping down to press a playful kiss against yours. he pulls away just as quick, gauging your flustered reaction and reveling in your widened eyes and agape mouth.

“i think you’re lying,” he giggles, squishing your face in his hands and poking your cheeks with his thumbs. “tell me who you have a crush on. c’mon, you can tell me.”

“i—you—-“ you stutter, staring up at your crush who knew exactly what he was doing. “i can’t.”

“sure you can. how else am i supposed to guess how he’d want you to kiss him?” he bites his bottom lip, eyes darting down to yours before leaning down to nip and pull at your own. “should i just show you how i like it? want me to teach you how i kiss?”

you eagerly nod, immediately blushing in embarrassment as he grins at your response.

“oh yeah?”

his head dips down again, teeth tugging your lower lip and getting your jaw to slack, letting him maneuver his mouth against yours the way he wants. his hands trail down to land against your waist, rubbing his fingers into the skin before sliding them down to rest on your hips. he pulls his lips from yours for just a split moment, just to talk you through it.

“put your arms around my neck…” you do as he says, making him tap your hip in praise. “there you go.”

his lips are once again on yours, greedily pressing his tongue into your mouth as he kisses you, frenzied and full of a determined motive to get you to crack. he pulls back once again, backing up when your lips try to chase his. one of his hands moves up to swipe the smear of your tinted lip gloss from the corner of your lips, a smug eyebrow raising at you.

“you gonna admit it’s me, now?” 

you duck your head, timidly nodding as you bite against your now pouted and plump lower lip. when you glance back up you notice his own face has gone red, despite the front he had so confidently put on.

“then why do we have to stop here?”

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄

“gene…”

you’ve lost any ability to get up from where you sit on gene’s lap, the nervous butterflies and heat in your cheeks disabling any coherent thought or power in your limbs to move. you want to punch the stupid smirk right off his face as he leans in for the nth time, dodging your lips and instead brushing them along your jaw.

“what?” he snickers, relishing in the annoyed whine that leaves your throat.

“you’re being mean.”

“aww,” he coos, clicking his tongue and leaning back with a tilt to his head. “how? i’m just teaching you like you asked.”

“you know what you’re doing…”

“hm?” he smiles, more amused chuckles leaving his lips. “and what’s that? why don’t you tell me what i’m doing.”

your fingers lock onto his shirt, tugging in protest as you duck your head down in embarrassment. his hand gently slides to rest under your chin, fingers holding your jaw in place as he lifts your face back up. cool fingertips and rings accentuating just how hot your cheeks had grown.

“look at me, sweetheart,” he smiles, finger tapping against your cheek. “tell me.”

“i can’t,” your eyes clamp shut, head shaking.

you hear him snicker one more time before his lips are pressing against yours. he draws back, deep voice rasped and husky as his breath brushes across your face. it smelled of nicotine and mint, something comforting and entirely gene.

“i’m so mean, i know…” he brushes his lips against yours. “i’ll make it up to you, you just need to be patient. can you do that for me?”

you nod, leaning forward in hopes that he’d connect his lips with yours once again. he finally complies with your wishes, slightly chapped lips locking against your own and stealing your breath.

he doesn’t pull away this time, his hand that held your chin maneuvering your face the way that he wanted. your breath hitches, allowing him to deepen the kiss, exploring your mouth with his tongue. he tilts your head back, hand sliding to the nape of your neck to hold you in place and his other arm slinking around your waist.

it’s not until you’re out of breath, tapping against his neck and chest that he lets you go, pulling back just a few centimeters. he smirks down at your flushed cheeks and plump lips, eyes hooded and glossed over.

you squirm when you attempt to pull further away, only to be stopped by gene’s firm hold on you.

“where are you going?” he laughs under his breath. “you still have a lot to learn, we’re not done yet.”

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

your face is buried in laurance’s chest as he chuckles at you, his fingers gently brushing through your hair and trailing down to rub circles against your back. despite his attempt to comfort your timidness it only makes you melt further against him, electric tingles and goosebumps shooting across your skin where his fingertips linger.

“aww, you’re so cute. you don’t need to be shy with me.” he purrs into your ear.

his arms wrap around you, holding you tight against him as he dips you down like the end of a romantic slow dance. he leans over you, admiring the face you’re unable to hide from him like this. your cheek presses against his bicep, squishing against the muscle as you try to turn and squirm away from his soft gaze. 

“what are you embarrassed for, sweet girl? what’s wrong?” he squeezes you against him, smiling as he doesn’t let you shy away.

“i’m just nervous…” you squeak out, throat tight as your heart jumps up from your chest.

“ohh, i know.” he coos, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “i’ll take the lead and i’m sure you’ll catch on quick, hm? is that okay with you?”

you nod, chin trembling involuntarily from nervousness. he giggles again, lifting you up closer to him as he leans down and presses a gentle kiss on the side of your face, close to your ear. 

“you’re adorable, just calm down. i’ve got you.” he whispers before placing another kiss across your cheekbone, intentionally running his soft lips against your skin. “i can hear your heartbeat from here.”

you practically go limp against him in response, earning another adoring chuckle from his lips. he plants more feathery kisses along your cheek, trailing closer to your lips and reaching the corner of your mouth. he pulls away for just a moment, admiring your shaky breaths and flustered features.

slowly, he leans back down, pressing his lips against yours in a heart-wrenchingly tender kiss. it makes your head spin, his soft treatment of you contrasting the thundering war rushing through your veins and rushing to your head. when he pulls away you can’t help how your lips chase after him, before you dizzily lean back into his arms.

he smiles, giggling at your eagerness as he unlatches the arm he secured around your waist to brush his thumb against your lower lip. “you want more?”

before you could melt through his fingers from embarrassment he dives down, seemingly much more eager than he was letting on as he nudges his mouth against yours, getting your lips to part as he brushes his tongue against yours.

his arm holds around your waist again, pulling you snugly against him and his hand brushing along your spine as he steals your breath straight from your lungs. when he pulls away again—after what felt like an entire lifetime later—he can’t help the soft smile that graces his lips again, eyes tender as they take in every part of your expression.

“so cute.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[peachdues]

HOUSE OF CARDS — NSFW TEASER

Sanemi Shinazugawa x Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Reader • Bodyguard AU

A/N: happy KNY Sunday!

In honor of the new season premiering tonight, enjoy a first look at the first threesome between Reader and her two bodyguards.

Hope y’all are ready to be sandwiched between these two — things are gonna get filthy.

Note that when you see (…) that means I’m skipping to another scene — I can’t give the whole thing away, now can I?

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • threesomes • spanking • unprotected sex • double penetration • discussions of creampies • spanking • slightly mean!Kyojuro but only in bed • teasing

It was wrong; you knew what you were doing was wrong.

You were his employer and he your employee. By all accounts, the only reason for his presence in your life at all was thanks to a contract and a hefty payment.

But he was there, and he was looking at you with a smoldering heat that made you go weak at the knees. He’d protected you, both he and Agent Rengoku had thrown themselves over you to shield you from harm without a moment’s hesitation.

You’d been lonely for so long, and Sanemi had been so surprisingly gentle and kind. How could anyone blame you for wanting a little comfort, especially after what you’d just gone through?

You needed it; craved it.

And truthfully, you wanted to be fucked stupid.

“Please,” you whispered, taking another hesitant step toward him, your resolve threatening to crumble if he did not respond soon. “Please, Sanemi,”

The bodyguard’s eyes remained locked on your face as you leaned in, your nose brushing his. Though he was still, you could see the rigidity which had settled over his limbs, could see the tightness in his shoulders as he worked to keep himself from reaching out and holding you.

But then Sanemi’s eyes flickered down to your mouth, and you knew he was going to give in. Before he could lift them back up to your heady gaze, you let your towel drop to the floor, exposing your nude body entirely.

—-

(…)

The handsome, scarred bodyguard had your back pressed against your headboard, his base flush against yours as Sanemi circled his hips, grinding into you so deliciously that your eyes took residence in the back of your skull.

It was wrong — so, so wrong of you to fuck your bodyguard and to let him fuck you, but the way Sanemi’s hips swiveled against yours, the way his bare cock dragged against your walls while he kissed your neck, felt so fucking good that you couldn’t stop.

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” Sanemi grunted against your throat, his hands sliding under your thighs and pushing them up until you were spread against your headboard. The new angle allowed him to shift his hips, the blunt head of his cock pushing so deep it was nearly painful.

“Oh my —“ You choked off, unable to string together a coherent sentence while the walls of your cunt clenched harder around the Bodyguard’s thick length. “Sanemi.”

The door to your bedroom banged open, and Sanemi was quick to cover your body with his own, yanking you down and behind him, concealing you from sight as he assessed the threat.

The threat, however, was no stranger. It was Rengoku, leaning against your doorway, a strange mixture of anger and heat blazing in his golden eyes, an unsettling smirk pulling at his lips.

“By all means, don’t let my presence interrupt you,” he purred. Above you, Sanemi smirked back and his hips began to roll back into yours, even as you squeaked. “I just wanted to ensure Agent Shinazugawa was tending to your needs.”

Sanemi abruptly snapped his hips against yours and your head fell back against your pillow as you cried out. A lewd squelching began to sound, breaking up the thick silence of the room as he repeated the movement again and again.

“I think she’s taken care of,” his voice was rough as his hand came to your breast and rolled a hardened nipple between his fingers. From the doorway, Rengoku’s eyes narrowed on your chest, his mouth watering at the thought of taking one of your soft mounds between his lips.

“But by all means, Agent Rengoku, if you think you should inspect for yourself,” Sanemi trailed off as the force of his thrusts increased, the bed posts beginning to rock against your wall.

Through the daze that the scarred bodyguard had fucked into your mind, the implication of Sanemi’s suggestion settled. To your surprise, you clenched even harder around the cock currently threatening to bruise your cervix, a small whimper slipping past your lips.

“Oh?” Sanemi turned his attention back down to his beautiful employer, goosebumps erupting over his skin as he felt your molten heat tighten around him. “You like that idea, do you sweetheart?”

Sanemi’s rough thumb found the bundle of nerves between your legs and pressed, your moans turning to cries as you writhed beneath him. “You want me to stop so you can show Rengoku how good this pussy feels?”

Your head began to shake as tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop!” You gasped, your nails sinking into the rocky muscle of Sanemi’s shoulders, as though to keep him in place. “B-both.”

Sanemi’s hips stuttered against yours as Rengoku’s breath caught in his throat. But you only repeated those damnable words once more as your hand flung out towards the doorway, beckoning.

“I want you both.”

———

(…)

You yelped as Rengoku’s hand made contact with your exposed backside, making you jolt in his lap, though the bodyguard’s other hand effortlessly held you in place, draped over his thighs.

The sting was momentarily chased away by a soothing rub, before he withdrew once more, bringing his hand back down on your other cheek, a resounding slap! echoing through your bedroom.

“You cannot hide such important information from us, Y/N,” Rengoku admonished, the contrast between the richness of his voice and the sting of his hand against the sensitive flesh of your ass making your thighs squeeze together as you squirmed in his lap. “We cannot do our jobs and protect you if you’re lying.”

You whimpered. “I couldn’t tell you — client confidentiality -“

Another smack, this time firmer, choked you off with a squeal, as Rengoku’s fingers squeezed your ass cheek tightly upon impact, a thumb rubbing circles over your reddened flesh.

“Our duty is to guard your life,” the ordinarily sweet-tempered protector warned. “The more difficult you make that duty, the harder your life will be when we finally get you home.”

But even as he said it, you felt his fingers inch closer and closer to the dip between your legs, to where the evidence of how thoroughly you’d been enjoying this side of your kind bodygurd was thoroughly coating your inner thighs.

He gave you one last smack, seeming to relish the way your ass jiggled with the impact, as he smoothed his hand appreciatively over the reddened curve.

“What do you think, Agent Shinazugawa?” Rengoku called jovially to his partner. “Do you think she’s learned her lesson?”

You did not hear Sanemi move from where he’d been leaning against your wall, watching Rengoku punish you, until you’d felt his fingers beneath your chin.

“I do,” he murmured, his voice rugged though his hands were gentle as he tilted your head, inspecting the small, bandaged cut across your cheek. The smirk on the scarred, ruggedly handsome face of your other bodyguard made your thighs clench all the more. “But I think it’s time we show her how grateful we are that she’s safe.

——

(…)

Rengoku readjusted his grip under your thighs, securing you tighter against his heaving form while also holding you further open, to allow the Bodyguard at your back easier access.

The movement stirred friction between where Rengoku’s coarse base was pressed flush against your sensitive clit, and you cried out, your cunt involuntarily tightening around the burly blonde’s thick length.

Rengoku swore. “Wait a moment, my flame,” he circled his hips once before pressing deeper into you in warning. “I promise we’ll give you what you need soon.”

Your responding whimper was cut off with a choke, as Sanemi realigned the tip of his achingly hard member at your entrance, already stretched and filled by Rengoku.

“God damn,” the scarred bodyguard’s voice was like gravel as he rubbed his head against your heat. “It’s gonna be a tight fit — tighter than before.”

Sanemi shifted forward to press his lips against the nape of your neck. “You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? We can take turns.”

At your front, Rengoku grumbled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he leaned forward to tease along your throat with his hot mouth as you mewled.

You gasped at the slight prick of Sanemi’s teeth against your skin as he waited for your answer, one dainty foot twitching where it hung mid-air.

“Yes!” You squealed, hips involuntarily grinding down on Rengoku’s length. “Please — I need someone to move —“

Growling in response to your confirmation, Sanemi pushed his hips up, squeezing his cock past that first ring of hot, pulsing muscle. There was some initial resistance due to the simple girth of Rengoku’s length as his flame-haired companion waited with clenched teeth. Sanemi quickly readjusted his stance, widening his feet and thrust up once, sharp and quick, the movement allowing him to sheathe himself once more inside the molten walls of your vice-like cunt.

A cacophony of sighs and strangled moans escaped the three as Sanemi became fully seated inside of you, as the three adjusted to one another.

“Fuck, I can feel you, Shinazugawa,” Rengoku groaned. “God, you both feel —“ he shuddered, and your legs clenched over his forearms as you moaned. “So fucking good.”

—

(…)

Sanemi’s head was thrown back, a whine tearing from his throat. “Fuck, I’m gonna — I need to pull out.” Another sloppy jerk of his hips upwards made it clear how close he was. “Now.”

But you couldn’t stand the thought of losing the comforting warmth of Sanemi’s cock, nor when it felt so good stretching you alongside Rengoku’s as the men alternated their thrusts, your body bouncing with each pointed movement from where you were sandwiched between them.

You were on birth control and both men were already bare inside you; flippantly, you rationalized that you might as well get your use from it.

“D-don’t!” You gasped, one shaky hand leaving its clawed grip against Rengoku’s shoulder in favor of reaching behind you, settling on the rocky expanse of Sanemi’s waist, anchoring him there. “Inside — both of you!”

“Oh fuck,” Rengoku hissed through clenched teeth, his thrusts stuttering. “Y/N — hah — are you sure?”

Reflexively, your legs clenched harder where they were draped over the crook of the fiery Bodyguard’s steely arms.

You nodded, desperate. “I need it — I need you to feel you both.”

Both men’s heads fell back as they simultaneously groaned.

—

(…)

A sudden graze of teeth against your ear made you shiver violently as Sanemi tugged at your lobe. “You’re gonna have to be a good girl, Y/N, and ask nicely, if you want it,” his voice dark and rich.

The white-haired bodyguard punctuated his demand by nearly pulling his cock out entirely from your heat before he snapped his hips up, eliciting deep moans from both his fellow guard and you pressed between them.

A feral, mischevious glint sparked to life in Rengoku’s searing gaze. He shifted beneath you, pushing his leg forward to keep you balanced as he moved one hand away from your thigh and cupped your breast.

Your eyes flew open as Rengoku pinched roughly at your nipple. “You heard your Agent, Y/N,” he rolled your mound in his palm before his fingers repeated the torture. “You need to beg.”

dw Sanemi is gonna suck Kyojuro’s dick later

[poppy-metal]

dilf! art who unfortunately doesn't get lily on fathers day. maybe her and tashi had something planned, maybe she had a tennis match somewhere else, or maybe she wanted to do something really bad and art let her because he can never say no. whatever it is he finds himself without her on fathers day and you make it your goal to make still it the best. waking him up with breakfast in bed, having lily call him twice, surprising him with the gifts you and lily picked out weeks before, and taking him out for dinner. coming home and relaxing with a glass of wine. holding each other and art slowly kissing you as he brings up the thought that plagued him all day. he'd tell you in between kisses how this day with you made him realize how badly he wants to be a daddy again.

how he wants to have a baby with you. hear the patter of small feet, see you all round and pretty, and just be your own little family. who are you to tell him no to that on fathers day? i just know he has a breeding kink but felt too dirty to say everything in his head. when you're underneath him begging "put a baby in me, art. please, fill me up," in between your moans, he can't hold himself back. finds himself groaning and muttering the whole time about how he's going to fill you up, gonna pump you full until your stomach is bulging out, and get you so full that the two of you will already have a baby by next fathers day. it unleashes a new side of him and you wouldn't make him stop even if you wanted to because you've never seen him let go so much. so you let him use you like a little sex toy and just hold onto him closely, telling him how good he takes care of you and how you can't wait for him to fill you up with your own baby. 

- ☕

im laying on the ground w my neck snapped

arts breeding kink goes so crazy - and its so telling to how much he loves you, because having a family is really just at the core of his wants. and he thought that's what he had with tashi. its taken him a long time to think about starting a new one - lily's getting older though - and he loves you. can't stop thinking about having a baby with your qualities and his - something of you and him - something you made together. hes a fucking sap, alright.

and maybe the whine loosens his tongue because he says all that while hes got a hand dragging up your shirt, feeding himself one of your hard nipples and pushing his hips up into yours.

"i wanna have a baby." he says, against your tits. licks all between the valley of your breasts. grips your waist. "i want a baby with you-"

and this. this is what you've been waiting for. so you rock your hips, lick into his mouth eagerly. swallow his moans and tangle your tongue with his - tasting the wine. sweet.

"put one in me-" you gasp feverish. you're hot to the touch, you want him all over you, inside you already, pumping you full. "fuck me pregnant - wanna make you a daddy again -"

its a blur after that - a tangle of limbs and your clothes yanked down and off - and then hes there, pushing inside you - hot and insistent and he comes down on you - his hips already moving.

"put your legs around me" he says against your lips - "lock me inside-"

you grip his side with your thighs, hooking your ankles at his back and pushing against him, rooting him deep as he can go.

he barely pulls out - but he doesn't go easy on you, either. he rocks into you forcefully, the motion of it jerking the couch forward every couple seconds - your bodies touch everywhere and you cant stop kissing, messy and wet. cant stop moaning and babbling things you cant even keep track of.

"fuck me fuck me fuck me - wanna have your baby, art - w-wanna have so many babies - "

"gonna make you a mommy - fuck, fill this tight little pussy - "

he comes in you once, and doesn't stop there. pushing his cum in as it oozes out, hooking your thighs towards your chest "have to breed you -" he grunts. pushes back inside with an easy glide into your slippery cum filled cunt - "oh, fuck. suck me in just like that, baby, yes - im gonna cum again -"

he'll fill you up three - maybe four time. rubbing his cock raw and sore in your pussy. pumping load after load into you.

you have to make sure it takes.

[yandere-fetish]

Yandere Ballerino X Female Reader

Part One

warnings: slight stalking, obsession,

Yandere Ballerino visits his regular gym and while lifting weights, he comes across a cute (H/C) woman; You. He can't take his eyes off you while you stretch your limbs out, getting ready for the intense workout you're about to put yourself through.

Yandere Ballerino is too focused on your assets to realize he's half-ass weight lifting. It gets so bad that his personal trainer, who comes back from another client, has to yell his name loud enough to catch his attention, which in turn catches your attention.

You two lock eyes before turning away.

Yandere Ballerino swears his heart bursts from his chest at your quick look. He dubs you as shy beauty now.

Yandere Ballerino can't help but blush red after your sudden expression when you notice his naked body. He automatically wants to see more of your facial expressions and experience different faces from you.

Yandere Ballerino gets mad when he's forced to focus on his strength training instead of the pretty thang that’s working the stair stepper at the moment. He continues to sneak peaks at you when his trainer wasn't paying attention— which was rare since the trainer was dedicated to his job.

You never notice the wandering eyes that stall on your figure, nor do you hear the forlorn sigh coming from his mouth at the sight of your ass bouncing up and down.

Oh, how he could only see the sight of you bouncing on his dick— wait.

What is he thinking? He shouldn't be sexualizing you! He shouldn't be paying attention to the way your breasts move when you jog on the treadmill or the way your waist looks so flexible when you're exercising on the balance ball.. but how can he stop when you're all ready so tempting on the elliptical?

He silently lamented over what other workouts you could make tantalizing.

Yandere Ballerino becomes a mess when he can't find you in the gym after so long. It gets to the point where he cancels his session with the personal trainer and asks the front desk about you.

Yandere Ballerino immediately whispers your name when the receptionist tells it to him after sliding a hundred dollar bill his way.

Yandere Ballerino walks away after getting what he needs from the receptionist. He grins and repeats your name as if it were his new mantra.

“(Y/N).. (Y/N). *smiles* It suits her.”

It's been a whole week since he saw you.

Yandere Ballerino has been non stop distracted since he saw you for the first time. Wondering about you keeps him from getting his much needed sleep, focus on staying in shape, practice for the numerous positions and steps of the upcoming shows, and even having his nutrition off balance.

He was becoming obsessed with you and he's never even spoken a word to you.

Yandere Ballerino finally expresses his feelings to his teacher and mentor, desperately needing the advice.

“Teacher.. I don't know what to do! She plagues my mind with every second I'm not near her! I can't even pirouette without thinking about her!”

“Hmm.. and you're serious about this girl?”

“Yes! I only know her name, but she won't leave my head! What am I supposed to do? I can't sleep, I can't eat— I can't even practice right anymore!”

“Find her.”

“What?”

“Go out into the world and find her. Decan can hold your position for a few days— but nothing longer than a week! After that, if you can't find her, you must forget her.”

“Oh! Thank you, Teacher! I'll make sure I come back in new spirits!”

Yandere Ballerino constantly searches for your presence everywhere. He went to the malls, the salons, the stores, and even the few parks littered around, but he still couldn't find you.

His spirits were low and the expression on his face said it all; he'd never see you again.

Yandere Ballerino was on his last leg when he walked into a coffee shop and instead of buying a drink, he ended up wearing one.

Just before he could freak out, Yandere Ballerino sees the face of his attacker and instantly melts. It's you! It's (Y/N)! The girl he's been looking for for five days straight! God has finally answered his prayers.

He silently thanks God for what he's gone through to have the two of you meet before hearing the feminine gasp and apologies from the cutie (you) in front of him.

“I am so so sorry, sir! I promise I didn't mean to…”

“It's all right… if you let me take you out for dinner?”

“Ah, um. *blushes deeply and avoids gaze* Me?”

“*smirks* Is there anybody else around who spilled their coffee on my very expensive shirt?”

“I— I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to! I should have been watching where I was going.”

“It's okay cutie.. as long as you agree to meet with me for dinner on.. let's say— Friday?”

“Okay.. *blushes* I'll guess I can go out with you on Friday since I messed up your shirt.”

“Great! Here's my number. I'll text you, (Y/N).”

After receiving your phone number, Yandere Ballerino began sweating bullets, hoping you wouldn't catch his slip up. It was too late now to regret it, so Yandere Ballerino just gives you a dashing smile and strolls right out of the coffee shop without a coffee.

You were too starstruck at his handsome appearance and his tall physique that you didn't catch your name falling from his lips without you speaking it first. You were too happy to finally have a date after so long that you were seeing stars instead of people. Your heart races and your palms are sweaty, but you try not to get ahead of yourself since it's only a date.

Do NOT steal from my blog. I say this so everyone can enjoy my stories without the hassle of plagiarism or infringement.

[jamminvroomvroom]

relief.

part 2 to stress

ln x fem!reader

hey hi hello here is part 2 to stress - enjoy! she's sexy and soft and i love her. uploading this as a little celebration for lando's p2 today, but this is set at silverstone. in which neither of you are that stressed anymore (sex is good stress relief) warnings: 18+!! minors dni with my writing! smut, fluff, language, inappropriate workplace relationship 1k words

for the split second he’d been on pole, electricity had shot through your body, your heart in your mouth, butterflies exploding violently in your stomach.

the moment passed, and he took second place on the starting grid. you locked eyes across the garage when he returned from the battle. he smirked at you, his expression detailing exactly the sort of night you were in for. you rolled your eyes in response, and at that, he smiled. it met his eyes and you could have died happy.

-

he was in your arms sometime around midnight, creeping through the dimly lit hotel corridors, just like all of the other ones that held thousands of your secrets. it was a game, at this point, to see who could get to who first. you knew that he’d be the one tapping on your door, knuckles rapping softly, as to not alert any unwanted eyes. you’d seen it in his eyes, the way they glowed, burned into you after qualifying. he could not look away, not when you smirked at him like that, and swayed your hips just for him, teasing him from so close, yet so far.

“was wondering when you’d turn up.” you moaned into his mouth, no space between your back and your door that he’d pressed you against, a mess of limbs.

lando took your kiss-slurred words as an opportunity to deepen the fiery kiss, licking into your mouth, a rumble in his throat, animalistic and desperate, dampening your underwear further.

“couldn’t resist. not when you spent the entire afternoon looking at me like that.” he growled, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. your eyes rolled back.

“like what?” you acted innocent, pushing him back, halting the kiss. you walked him backwards, his relentless hands pawing at your sides the entire way to your bed.

“like you wanted me to bend you over the car and fuck you right there in the garage.”

his words sent you silly and his hands spun you around and planted you on the bed.

“god, you make it so hard not to want you.” lando groaned and your eyes shot open, that sentence turning you on more than anything else he could have possibly done.

“lando, i just- please-“ you didn’t know how to respond or what you were asking for, you just needed him all over you.

“i know pretty girl. just let me have you.” he crooned, falling into a trance, eyes darkened yet sparkling still.

you weren’t sure how he’d managed to undress you so effortlessly, his hands working over you like butter. you barely gave your creased mclaren polo a second thought, this time, as it fell into a heap on the floor.

your fingers pulled tight on lando’s curls, chocolate frosting between your fingertips, as he buried his head between your thighs like it was his reward for placing high on the grid. his tongue was everywhere, dipping between your folds and running over your clit, harsh sucks catching you off guard every single time.

“god, fucking hell, lando.” you rambled, mouth wide open, constant whines escaping your lips. you felt him smirk against you, lips wrapping around your clit once more.

you were on the edge, teetering dangerously close to meeting your end when he stopped, the bastard that he was, snaking up your body. you felt every ridge and curve of his body, tanned skin warm and smooth, calloused and firm pressed against you. soon enough, you were face to face, chest to chest, breath mingling and noses brushing.

“you ready for me, sweetheart?” lando teased, grinning down at you like he wanted to swallow you whole.

all you could do was nod furiously, reaching up for him desperately to cradle his face, pulling him in for a messy kiss. your limbs were intertwined as he pushed into you, your back arching further into him, your bodies trying to get even closer as the pleasure burned through your veins. he moaned, loud and into your mouth, teeth clashing.

cold sweat slicked over your hot bodies, his hips hitting yours with every thrust, everything in the room around you blurring into nothing. it didn’t matter to you anymore how wrong this was, how much he pissed you off, the pay off was too good. lando was too good.

your hands went from sliding all over his body, anything to pull him closer, to being pinned above your head, one of his large hands holding your writhing body still, while the other pawed at your thigh that was hooked tight over his hip.

“more.” you begged, eyes fixed on his. he smirked, playful, dipping down towards you to take your nipple into his mouth. he maintained the eye contact the whole time, sucking a hickey into the soft skin of your breast.

you tightened around him, hard, the pleasure knocking you for six. it took lando out of his trance, startling the both of you into the height of your orgasms, his body hurtling into yours as you both melted into the mattress. heavy breathing filled the air, silence falling over the room.

“we can’t keep doing this, you know.” you said, toying with him. you were joking, obviously, the driver far too addictive to give up.

“yeah, this is really unprofessional of you, sweetheart.” lando replied, laughing softly into your ear, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck.

“i think that you need to leave me alone, norris. barging into my hotel room like that.” you swatted his arm playfully.

“don’t think i can.” lando said quietly. your heart sped up, beating dangerously fast.

“don’t tease me.” you tried to sound unbothered, nonchalant. clearly, it didn’t work.

“meant what i said. you make it impossible not to want you.” he echoed his words from earlier, pushing himself up to rest on his forearms, so that he was hovering over you, catching the uncontainable smile on your face that you instantly tried to hide. you didn’t need him to know the effect he had on you.

“at least buy me dinner first, before you profess your undying love for me.”

“what are you doing tomorrow night? after the race?” he raised an eyebrow, testing your mettle.

what was stopping you from giving in to him? you caught sight of your team issued shirt laying disheveled on the floor next to his. these rendezvouses could end you, run you out of motorsport forever. you weighed it up in your mind, risk versus reward, and the reward was, undoubtedly, fucking delicious.

“you, probably.”

-

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