#(price to pay when i’m lazy to read)

[elinciarune]

Mr. Mademoiselle Taisha fits with this group perfectly 🤌

edit: it’s also the ‘BULL’ proof for me I know but thats really hilarious 😭😭😭😭😭

#onmyoji rpg #onmyoji #onmyoji taishakuten #taishakuten #realized late that uber enmusubi has this skill and had to suffer through seeing little damage done to her #(price to pay when i’m lazy to read) #so shifted to a female dominated team but had to keep taisha i mean he just fits so well there 🥰

[ragingbookdragon]

Someday We'll Be All That We Need

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: I made a new friend so I made that friend a fic. @temeyes <3 -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Other than the shivering, Simon doesn’t so much as twitch in the corner they’re huddled in. She’s cold herself, but nothing feels as terrifying as losing the man wedged in between her thighs, head resting against her chest. The bleeding has stopped though, the bullet wound plugged well enough that him exsanguinating is the least of her worries—it’s the ever-dropping temperature and the broken-down cabin that scares her.

It was thirty degrees Fahrenheit when the mission started; the last reading was ten and dropping. The cabin they’d taken shelter in was worn down, broken windows and missing ceiling allowing streams of frigid winter air and snow to fall in and continue to chill their bones. Simon had sealed his wound and managed to stay awake but with the blood loss he’d suffered and the stress, fatigue had set in, and that’s when she’d found herself curled up in the corner with the emergency blanket from her kit wrapped around his torso, his body wedged up against hers, trying to conserve energy and heat.

The comms had gone down, Simon’s radio busted in a skirmish of hand to hand with an enemy, and she had only managed to get one SOS out before the line cut off. They were alone in the middle of enemy territory, in a temperature-dropping environment, wounded and unable to call for help. Her worst fears were coming alive.

She swallowed thickly, shaking the thoughts away, and readjusted her grip on Simon, jostling him awake in the process. “Alrigh’, love?” he murmured lowly, tongue lazy and slow; he only called her love when they were alone and serious.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “You?”

“Back’s killin’ me.”

She huffed a laugh. “I bet it is. You’re folded like a pretzel.”

Simon shifted, or tried to, and rested his head on her shoulder. “How long’s it been since I feel asleep?”

“Maybe an hour?” she blinked, looking around the room; snow was beginning to pile up where the holes in the ceiling dropped to the floor. “I haven’t really been paying attention to the time.”

“Hmm.” He breathed into her neck. “I can’t feel my toes.”

Her eyes shifted to his feet, and she let out a breath, a mixture of shock and fear. “How bad is it?”

“Bad,” he admitted. “‘s bad, love. Spreading up.”

“Motherfucker,” she laughed in disbelief and wrapped her arms tighter around him. “Price heard the SOS. He’s coming, okay? Just…just keep it together until then.”

Simon swallowed thickly; his eyes still shut as he nudged her neck with his mask-covered nose. “Got a safety deposit box back in Manchester,” he muttered. “Key’s in my nightstand back at base.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Got ‘bout five-hundred thousand pounds in’it.” He shifted again as if trying to get into her skin to be warmer. “Deed to a property in Herefordshire. Got it a few years ago when I was staying with Price.”

“Simon, stop,” she warned—she knew exactly what he was doing.

“Want you to get out and go live there. You’ve served long enough to get pension. You’ll be set for the rest of your life out there.”

“No. Not without you I won’t.”

He shook his head. “I don’ think I’m comin’ back, love. Not this time.”

“Don’t say that,” she stressed, turning her face to his. “They’re coming. We’ll be okay.”

Simon didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Want you to buy one of those big black Corso’s. Name her Morrigan. Let her take care of you and the land.”

Tears began to gather in her eyes. “You’re a bastard,” she whispered. “Quit it.”

“I want you to listen. I want you to be taken care of. I want—”

“I want you alive,” she cut off. “Now shut up and save some energy.”

Simon cracked an eye open and simply gazed at her. “I love you. I know I didn’ say it enough. ‘m sorry, love.”

She clenched her jaw against the wave eating her chest inside out and inhaled deeply. “Simon, stop and rest. I won’t say it again.”

He let his eyes close and laid his head back down. “Alright, love.”

***

It was at least another two hours before noise echoed outside, and it drew her from a slumber she hadn’t realized she was in; she jolted up, Simon jostling with her. “Simon,” she whispered. “Someone’s outside.” He didn’t respond to her, and she pulled away, looking at him. “Simon?” he was asleep, unresponsive to any of the stimuli around him. “Fuck, Simon?” the noise outside grew louder, and she pushed past her fear and shifted from under him, tucking him against the wall as she grabbed her gun and rose to her feet.

Kneeling down, she put a hand against his face. “I’ll be back, okay? I promise.” She swallowed. “I’m coming right back, Simon.”

She rose again and headed for the door, cracking it open and slipping outside as a vehicle pulled up; tucking behind the railing, she breathed deeply and lifted her head, catching sight of a few men exiting.

Before she could even raise her weapon, she heard, “Contact!”

Ducking again, she cocked her rifle and listened as the others did the same, obviously hiding behind shelter themselves. It had to be the rest of that enemy squad that she failed to take out when Simon got injured. Fuck, she only had one mag left and she was running on fumes herself. She had to be quick. She had to be careful. She had—

“Identify yourself, or we will shoot!”

Wait, that sounded like—

“I will not say it again! Identify yourself or—”

“Price!” she called and peeked over the railing. “Price, it’s me! It’s me!”

Soap and Gaz appeared on the other side of the SUV. “Athena?”

She felt tears gather in her eyes as she stood up and lowered her gun. “Holy shit, I’ve never been so glad to see you guys.”

Price stopped in front of her, pulling her into a quick hug. “Good to see you. Where’s Simon?”

Simon.

Her heart dropped. “Fuck.” She turned on her heel and sprinted back into the cabin and to the corner, the men on her heels; she got to him first and dropped to her knees, shaking him. “Simon! Simon, wake up!”

He didn’t move.

“Simon!” she called again, lifting her cold fingers to his neck. Whether it was her own anxiety or him, she couldn’t feel a thing and she started panicking. “I can’t get a pulse!” she turned to them. “I can’t wake him up!”

Soap pulled her back as Price and Gaz got to work and she thrashed in his arms. “LET GO!”

“Lass, calm down!”

“LET GO! SIMON!” she screamed, her own vision beginning to haze, exhaustion weighing taking its toll.

“We’ve gotta start compressions,” she heard Gaz say and he looked at Price. “He’s not going to make it back if we don’t do something now.”

Price looked back. “Soap, get her in the SUV, we’ll prep Simon for transport.”

“Aye, sir,” Soap said and hefted her up against her thrashing.

“NO! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM BEHIND! LET GO OF ME GODDAMNIT!”

“Lass, you can’t help him even if you wanted to.”

Her body felt like lead and she felt her limbs going numb as her breathing kicked into a wildness, head light and heavy all at the same time. She kept trying to get out of his arms when Price tossed a syringe his way, and a prick to her arm drew blackness into all sides of her gaze, the last thing she saw was Gaz yanking open Simon’s gear to press his hands to his chest.

***

There was an impossibly annoying beeping going off on the side of Simon’s bed and she had half a mind to kick him in his hip and gripe at him to turn it off; she managed to mumble something akin to it but when the beeping didn’t stop, she managed with great effort to crack her eyes open, only to be met with the sterile walls of a medical room.

It all came back in an instant and she sat up straight, yanking the IV out of arm, the oxygen tube from her nose, rolling from the bed. Her knees kissed the floor and pain seared up her legs as she scrambled for the door, only to fall again, but she crawled on her hands and knees to the handle. Lifting herself, she pulled the door open and leaned heavily on the wall of the hallway as she stumbled down, looking in every room for her lover.

“Simon!” she called weakly; the mission had taken its toll on her. She was weak, far beyond her own capacity and she was barely standing as it was. “Simon!” she yelled again, and Soap stuck his head out from a door about five doors down.

“Athena? Holy shite, you shouldn’t be up!” he made it to her, trying to help her, but she pushed past him.

“Where’s Simon?”

“Love, you need to go back to—”

“WHERE IS HE!”

Soap recoiled and recovered, gently wrapping his arm around her. “He’s down here. Still asleep.” His grip was steel. “I’ll take you to him.”

“I can—”

“You either let me help or I take you back to your room.”

She fell silent and let him, that was until she turned the corner of Simon’s room, and darted from his arms, barely managing to avoid face-planting into the hospital bed railing as she clambered onto the bed with the man.

“Simon?” she whispered, grabbing his face in her hands; he was so warm now. Tears seeped down her cheeks. “Simon, sweetheart?” she said again, pressing her head to his chest to feel his steady heartbeat thumping beneath; a choked sound of happiness escaped her, and she looked at Soap. “He’s alive.”

He smiled at her. “Yeah, love, he’s alive.”

“He’s okay?”

“Eh, we’re a little worried about his toes, but so far yeah.”

She buried her face in Simon’s chest, crying into the gown he wore, and grabbed one of his hands; she squeezed it tightly, relief flooding her as his fingers tightened around hers in his sleep.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader imagines #simon ghost riley x reader imagine #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader imagines #simon riley x reader imagine #simon riley imagines #simon riley imagine #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x reader imagines #ghost x reader imagine #ghost imagines #ghost imagine #ghost #cod imagines #cod imagine #cod #call of duty imagines #call of duty imagine #call of duty

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Perfect Find

Steven Grant x GN!Reader • Rating: PG •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: You and Steven look through the local charity shops.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Just some fluffy old fluff.

Warnings: swearing, set in the UK, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 590

You gasp excitedly as you hold up the shirt. “Steven, what about this one?” 

His eyes light up when he sees it and rushes around from the other side of the clothing rail. “It’s perfect!” He touches the material lightly, it’s cotton, or at least some kind of cotton blend. Whatever it was, it doesn’t make him feel like he needs to peel his skin off after coming into contact with it. 

“This charity shop has everything,” he laughs as he takes the shirt, a short sleeved button down, out of your hands and looks at the price. £6.00, not bad. 

The shirt itself is a vibrant sky blue, intercut with swirls of white that in all honestly neither of you are one hundred percent sure if they are meant to be clouds or waves. Though most likely the latter considering the main pattern of the material. It is covered with swimming goldfish, all from a bird’s eye perspective. 

You notice the black t-shirt slung in the crook of Steven’s arm and point to it. “Found something else?” 

It takes him a moment to drag his eyes away from the goldfish before he looks up to you and smiles. “For Marc.” 

You’re about to say how thoughtful that is of him, until Steven holds the t-shirt up and you can read the text on the front. ‘My depression is chronic, but this ass is iconic.’

You can’t help the sudden bout of laughter that spills from your lips. “Oh my god…”

“I know, right?” Steven gives you the biggest shit eating grin.

“He’s gonna hate that.”

“He is.” Steven says with an almost perverse glee. “Loathe it, utterly, utterly loathe it.”

You walk with Steven as he takes his purchases to the till. “Is this payback for him hiding your Hanukkah jumper?” 

“Not in the slightest.” He grins. “Just part of the payback.” 

You giggle. 

“I’m gonna wear this t-shirt every time I know we’ve got planned switching time. See how long it takes before he notices the writing.” 

“Could be a while.” You smile. 

Marc was very observant when it came to outside things, other people, the landscape, he wasn’t however so concerned with what he was wearing as long as it was comfortable and fairly plain. The writing on the t-shirt was just small enough that there was a good chance he wouldn’t pay attention to it straight away. Especially if Steven put a hoodie or a plain-ish shirt over the top (unbuttoned of course). 

“Oh, I intend to make sure it is.” Steven beamed as he then turned to the cashier, greeted them and paid for the shirt and t-shirt. 

You absentmindedly touch the t-shirt as you put it into your canvas bag and sling it over your arm. It’s soft, comfortable. And you smile. You know, just as Steven does, that deep, deep, deep down, Marc will quite like the t-shirt. 

He’ll grumble a little of course, probably give you both a playful roll of his eyes and tut. But he won’t take it off. He won’t throw it away. 

You’ll find him wearing it of his own free will in bed, and on lazy mornings in the flat. And even outside when the urge takes him. 

“I can carry those, love.” Steven smiles at you as you carry the bag, but you shake your head. 

“It’s fine.” 

He tuts, a sound that is so different to Marc, and kisses your cheek as you both head outside into the high street and the next charity shop. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#moon knight events #moon knight bingo 2024 #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #steven grant x reader #x reader #steven grant x you #x you #steven grant x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #steven grant x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[lvrcpid]

road trip! - modern!au

— something tells me y’all are going to disney

— everyone met up at the sully house at 4:30 am on the DOT

— neytiri threatened to leave lo’ak since he didn’t wake up on time

— jake didn’t feel like taking multiple cars cause he thinks gas prices are insane so he rented a huge caravan to attach to his truck

— he drives a ford F150 btw

— there isn’t really a seating arrangement but trust ronal, neytiri and your mom are in the back sipping wine/juice and gossiping

— your dad sitting in the passenger seat while jake drives and tonowari in the back seat since he called dibs

— alright let’s get into the funny stuff

— not even 10 minutes in and lo’ak is complaining he has to pee

— neytiri tells him “there’s literally a bathroom?”

— he doesn’t want to get up cause him and tsireya are watching the new season of ginny and georgia

— kiri is definitely in a window seat cuddled up watching her shows while tuk is next to her playing adopt me on her ipad

— you got stuck with aonung and neteyam

— they’re just glaring at eachother cause wtf i wanted them to MYSELF!

— rotxo could come this time (YAYYYY)

— but he was knocked out on the couch as soon as they got up there

— jake has the worst road rage

— he stay cussing someone out while tonowari is tryna defuse the situation

— your dad is just listening to sports podcasts

— baseball specifically

— neteyam bugging everyone to play crazy 8

— tuk ate y’all up every single round

— when it FINALLY came time to stop at a gas station, lo’ak was the first to get up

— he came back WITH THE MOST SNACKS

— i’m talking candy, chips. the whole 9 yards

— i’m too lazy to write the snacks everyone got but something tells me the men have hella slim jim wrappers in the truck

— you playing tic tac toe with ao’nung because he was bored and his signal went out

— speaking of signal, there was a point in time everyones signal went out for like an hour and it was pure chaos

— neteyam was probably reading when it happened so he didn’t even care

— a lot of “damn!” when jake swerves around someone

— neytiri calling him upset cause “there’s a pregnant woman and CHILDREN BACK HERE JAKE.”

— tsireya and kiri looking at ears they want to buy to match with the boys

— lo’ak and rotxo looking at them like ??? whatever makes you happy babe

— lo’ak knocked OUT. i’m talking snoring, spit on his shirt

— something tells me he sleeps like he has 4 kids and mortgage to pay for

— you and tsireya made a lot of tiktoks

— i mean a lot

— you , neteyam and aonung decided y’all were gonna be different and wear goofy ears instead

— ronal asks for a time check and only realizes it’s 7 in the morning and y’all have 8 more hours to go.

— cue a conjoined sigh

— tuk made you play those tiktok games with her and you actually had a blast

— tuk is so cool i love her

— i’m gonna stop here cause it’s getting long but if y’all want me to write one where they’re at disney then lmk 🤭

tags 🏷️: @23victoria @avtprint @bucky12345 @boilingpots @Marcswife21 @elegantkidfansoul @itsyogurl @stars4deku @stvpidscvpid @uniltsatirey @urdeadpoet @annamarieisbae @graysonmalik2550 @blueberryfailureclinic @jordan-network

#avatar #avatar x reader #awotw #neteyam x reader #jake sully x reader #kiri x reader #sully family x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader #tuk avatar #jake sully #aonung x reader #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch #modern!avatar #avatar 2009

[chaibewriting]

HANDS OFF! ft. street rat! shota aizawa (aladdin au) x feisty! noble! dom! fem! afab! reader

-> NOTES: street rat! shota aizawa pickpockets the wrong noblewoman and pays the price in more ways than one. i wrote this without much thought or brain meats so im sorry if its not my best work 🙇🏾

-> WARNINGS: hypnosis, dubcon, gagging, unprotected sex, virigin aizawa (bc i said so), dry humping, unedited and unbeta read cause i’m lazy

THE human body needed a few basic things in order to survive, even at the bare minimal, one of those necessities happened to be food. And unfortunately, mainly due to his lack of social ranking in the hierarchy, a young scoundrel by the name of Shota was forced to heavily rely on his abilities to get his next meal. And no, they’re not any kind of special ability— unless you consider pickpocketing and pawning to be something special, then fuck just call him Superman.

Interrupted from his thoughts, the shaggy dark-haired man pressed a hand onto his stomach, grunting at the rumble that was embarrassingly loud. A few passerbys in the streets had walked past him with rather weary looks, shuffling away from him while clinging onto their belongings. He barely spared them a glance, knowing that there was a much more interesting target just up ahead.

This woman was wearing something custom made, something he’d never seen before, which brought him to the justified assumption that she was rich. And if he played his cards correctly, he could swipe a couple things from her that he could pawn off and have enough to not only feed himself for the next couple of nights but also enough to buy some food for the stray cats he’s ‘adopted’ that he often finds lingering around in alleys. He had plenty of experience with pickpocketing, it didn’t matter who his target was he always landed his mark and got away without a scratch.

So… how exactly did he end up in this predicament?

That was his first mistake.

Shota had picked up the speed of his stride, soon closing in on you from behind without trying to look too suspicious, making it seem as if he was simply trying to pass you to get to his next destination as quickly as possible. It should have been easy. It was always easy for him, but you apparently decided to rip the rug from right under his feet, catching him redhanded when he attempted to dig his hand into your pocket after brushing past you. You grabbed onto his wrist and pulled it up towards the sky, eyeing your wallet that was encased between his fingers. The lazy street rat was stunned, staring at you in shock and a tad bit of fear of what was going to happen next. He had been doing quite a decent job at evading the authorities but if he were to be turned in right now they would no doubt execute him. He had to get away, but how were you so fucking strong?

“My, my, my… Who do we have here? I think I’ve seen you before… On the wanted posters in the little nooks and crannies I go to get my liquor.” You hummed, continuing to grasp his wrist without budging, even with him constantly trying to pry your hand away or jerk back. “Listen, lady, I’ll give you your damn wallet back, just let me go already.” Shota hissed, suddenly feeling you squeeze at his wrist while narrowing your eyes at him, causing him to unconsciously shudder under your harsh and calculated gaze. “I don’t think so. You caught me at the perfect time, i’ve been looking for a young little thing like you for me to release my frustration. Perhaps we should speak more privately, hm?” You offer, though you give no room for arguments or even agreement as you’re suddenly tugging him towards a nearby alley. The people on the street have taken notice of the two of you but shrugged it off, figuring that you were probably just going to teach the scoundrel a much needed lesson, which you technically were.

Shoving the youngster up against the wall after releasing his wrist, a hum came from your throat as you caged him in, leaving no room for him to slip away from you. He was forced to feel your body press up against his, causing his face to redden ever so slightly as he glanced at you, attempting to intimidate you even though he was the one being intimidated.

Leaning back slightly, you reached into one of your dress pockets and pulled out a solid gold pocket watch that was worth a pretty penny or two. Immediately, his eyes left from your face and went to the pocket watch that was enough to keep him fed for months on end, maybe even years.

That was his second mistake.

“Watch the watch, and repeat after me, darling.” You demanded, though your voice was laced in honey and danger, unfortunately for Shota he was unable to break his gaze from the swinging watch and slowly felt himself slipping into some kind of unconscious yet /conscious/ state, causing him to fully let down his guard as he listened to the words that came from your glossed lips.

“‘I am now Lady Y/N’s property. I give all my rights to her. I was made to please her and only her.”

His mouth moved without his permission as he parroted the words back to her, causing a triumphant grin to spread across her lips. “That’s enough. What’s your name, boy?”

“Aizawa Shota.”

…

After performing some basic-level hypnosis on the unsuspecting street rat, getting him back to your place was as easy as leading a dog on a leash. You never expected that it would be so easy to get him to follow after you, most would have put up more of a fight, but now he was just following you around like a lovesick puppy.

Once you’d entered your home, you instructed him to take off his shoes and leave them at the door, doing the same for yourself before venturing further into the house.

Afterwards, you promptly led him to your bedroom, beckoning him with a finger to continue following behind you, which he did. As soon as he entered the bedroom behind you, you pointed towards the luxurious-looking bed and spoke.

“Sit, and wait, Shota.”

He did just that, watching you with those same loveisck puppy eyes that followed after you every step of the way, waiting for your next command. Simultaneously, you shrugged off your coat and placed it onto a nearby table, humming a random tune you’d heard in a tavern some nights ago, thinking through what you wanted to do next. You were interested in trying out your usual approach, wondering how he’d look starfishing and gagged.

Slipping into your closet, you found the medium-sized chest that sat on the floor and pulled it out, opening it up to remove a few specially made silk wraps from inside of it. With your new findings, you turned towards the bed where Shota still sat, he was awake, but he held no hint of emotion in his face, still heavily under the influence of your hypnosis which seemed to please you quite a bit.

“Stand up and strip for me.”

With ease, the unfortunate prey you’d sunk your claws into stood onto his feet and began to remove his tattered clothing (you’d have to burn those later), your eager eyes taking note of every inch of his exposed body. Even though he looked a bit malnourished and lanky, no doubt from not eating an adequate amount of food each day, he didn’t exactly look fragile. So, that meant you wouldn’t have to worry about breaking him just yet. You eyed the excessive amount of body hair that he had spread all over his body, it wasn’t unwelcome of course, you did enjoy the look of a rugged man crumbling at your feet, after all.

Walking towards him, you placed hand onto his chest and pushed him back onto the bed, watching in interest as his flaccid cock slapped back against his stomach with the sudden movement. You were eager to toy with him and you couldn’t do that if he was still mindlessly under your control, however, you still had to remain in control of him. And you always had the perfect solution. Balling the silk wraps up until you got the perfect sphere of fabric, you instructed him to open his mouth, shoving the fabric into it as soon as his lips parted. You heard him instinctively gag around it and grinned afterwards. Now, here was where the real fun began. With a hum, you snapped you fingers and watched as the cloudy mist in his dark eyes began to clear up. He looked around in confusion for a moment before his gaze landed on you and where you stood, over him at the very edge of the bed. And then he spoke. Or tried to at least.

“Whah eer wuu zoo…” He tried, mumbling against the silk in his mouth, after hearing himself struggle to speak his brows furrowed and he began reaching to take the foreign fabric from his mouth. You stopped him, clicking your tongue in dissatisfaction. “Oh no no, Shota. Don’t you remember what we discussed in the alley? You’re my property now, and you can’t just go around making decisions on your own, darling. You’ll keep that in your mouth until I say so.”

You sighed afterwards and began to undo your blouse, already eyeing his body with glee and interest. “Now, if you’re good and help me release my stress from this week… maybe I’ll take the gag out. Think you can do that for me? Ah, actually, I know you can.” You purred, a small smile revealing itself on your face as you peeled off your blouse and slid your skirt off as well, stepping out of it so that you were left in only your undergarments.

With slightly desperate movements and the speed of a huntress in heat, you crawled on top of Shota, watching as his eyes widened in surprise and his face burned crimson. This caused a thought to come to mind as you planted yourself right on his cock, sandwiching it between your clothed cunt and his own hollowing belly.

“Oh dear… Are you a virgin, Shota?”

The blush on his face only increased tenfold at your question and he quickly shook his head, attempting to dissuade you from such a suggestion. It didn’t matter to you anyways, but it would have been all the more entertaining if he was.

…

Getting Shota hard was not a difficult feat, especially not with you constantly rutting against his cock at a steady pace, effectively making your own pool of arousal start to drench your panties, mingling with the beads of precum that dribbled from his tip and landed onto his stomach. The sounds of his sweet muffled moans had urged you to move faster and rougher with your movements, the friction on resulting in your own moans as well. After you’d done your job, you rolled off of him, making him whine in need for you as you laid onto your back and stretched out your limbs, laughing at him.

“Don’t get all pissy now, I’ve done my job so its only fair that you do yours now.” You mused, laying comfortably on your back while pushing your bra up over your breast, letting them fall free from the contraption. “C’mon and put it in, I know you’re a good boy, aren’t you? Show me how good you are.” You urged, shifting around a bit to slide your underwear down until they were tossed away, exposing your soaked core and throbbing notch of nerves.

Many things came into play, a mix of hormones and hypnosis caused the pick pocketer to quickly sit up, gag still in his mouth, and get between your legs, mot even trying to hide his eager as he stared at your inviting entrance, his angry tip getting even angrier. With interest and clear amusement, you watched him closely as he grabbed the base of his cock and began to line himself up with your entrance, prodding at your folds with the tip, almost as if he was uncertain about where he was supposed to put it. It was almost cute, but you were getting a tad bit impatient, hooking your legs around his hips to bring him forcibly towards you, making him sink into you with ease and with little to no resistance.

While your moans were a bit more restrained and shaky, his moans were still muffled but were exceptionally whinier. He had fallen forward but quickly caught himself before he could crash on top of you, holding himself up by pressing his hands in the bed on either sides of your body. You’d pulled him closer until he completely bottomed out, his balls flush against your ass as he was fully inside you, kissing your cervix with his bulbous tip. You could have sworn you felt him throbbing inside of you. You probably did.

Shota, on the other hand, was on the verge of trembling and crying from pleasure, the sudden warmth and wetness closing around him and effectively trapping him in place, his eyes closed as his face only doubled with heat. He was sure he was going to cum if he moved even an inch. This felt even better than fucking his fist. A man could become addicted to this.

Simultaneously, you enjoyed the feeling of fullness but were waiting for him to move, watching him intently. When he made no effort or showed no signs of movement, you huffed, unhooking your legs from his hips and grunting at him. “What are you waiting for? The sun to set? Hurry up and move already, I’m growing impa- oh!” You were cut off by the feeling of him pulling out and slamming back into you, which was soon followed by a series of amateur jabs at your womb, repeatedly filling you with his thick veiny cock over and over again, the bird’s nest of his pubes consistently brushing over your clit with him bottoming out each and every time.

Even if he was an amateur with his thrusts, his dick was big enough to hit some delicious spots inside of your gummy walls that made you a bit delirious. You weren’t the only one, however, with the way he was still groaning and muttering praises that made no sense thanks to the gag in his mouth. As he fucked into you like an obedient and needy whore, you rubbed at your clit in rough circular motions, a string of curses leaving your lips as you enjoyed every second of the snap of his needy hips.

“Veels zooo gooo…” He complimented, though you didn’t know what he was saying exactly as he continued his speedy pace, the bed singing and creaking from the intensity of his assault on your drooling pussy.

This continued for a tad bit longer, as long as he could manage at least, before he mewled aloud, leaning over to bury his face into the crook of your neck. “Mm hmm gmm…!” Suddenly, you felt heat shoot up into your awaiting walls that had been milking him since the moment you forced him to sink his cock in you, painting you sloppily with white. He’d slammed all the way into you to release his seed in you, not letting a drop escape as he laid out on top of you in exhaustion, forcing you to stop rubbing your clit.

You allowed him a second to collect himself, feeling the cold sweat on his body sink into yours as he remained laying on top of you, still buried inside of you. Lightly, you patted his back in an affectionate manner and spoke up. “We’re not done yet darling, I still haven’t cum yet.” That, made him stiffen up, and you almost felt his cock harden again inside of you like the command was enough to spur him on for another round.

“ineeding…. foooo… ooo.” Was the last thing he tiredly panted through the gag before he lifted his hips just a tad bit, burying his knees into the bed before he began lazily pounding into you yet again, the harsh slap of skin on skin being heard well into the night.

Well… he’d never be pickpocketing again, that’s for sure.

#mha aizawa #aizawa shota x reader #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa smut #aizawa sensei #aizawa x you #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x poc reader #afab reader #female reader #dom reader #mha x dom reader #bnha x dom reader #x black reader #mha x black reader #bnha x black reader #black writer #anime fanfic #anime x black!reader #black reader #aladdin au #bnha aizawa #boku no hero aizawa #— chai’s requests. !!

[snowstained]

pervy best friend itto mngnnfnrnrnedhsh (i’m insane) (slightly yandere ???)

itto x afab! reader

desc: modern au, VERY NSFW!!! kinda dubcon? itto being veryveryvery pervy n dirty n stupid, he’s just a big dummy who needs smth to fuck!!! not proof read i’m lazy oops

kinks included: blood, biting, bruising, choking, breeding, pet names, thigh riding, pain, scratching, hair pulling

itto can’t help it when you wear short bottoms, his gaze always trails to your perfect thighs. when you bend over he can’t help the boner he gets seeing your ass, especially when you’re wearing tight bottoms and he can see the outline of your pussy. he’s just so enamored and infatuated.

today you and itto were going out shopping. it was more or less you try a million things on and he drools over you for a few hours. at one of the stores you found an adorable mini pleated skirt that went perfectly with the top you were wearing. “itto, doesn’t this look perfect? it’s so cute with this outfit…” you took a peak at the price tag and gasped, “oh nooo! i’m not gonna be able to get it, this is way too expensive!”

itto immediately perked up at thought of treating you to something so cute. surely he’d get you to pay him back in… other ways. there was a sound of something dropping on the floor, your hair clip, oh no! itto watched as you bent down to grab it and went red when he saw your panties that didn’t fully cover your pussy. yeah, he needed you to get this skirt. “don’t sweat it, itto’s got’cha!”

“are you sure? this is 5,000 mora… that’s really expensive for just a skirt…” you asked him hesitantly.

“yeah, yeah, it’s no problem. you can always pay me back later, it looks great on you anyway!” he said with a little too much excitement. next thing you know he’s buying it for you and you’re walking out with a brand new skirt that’s gonna get you into trouble later.

on the drive back to itto’s he felt himself struggling. his jeans felt painful and he had a vice like grip on the steering wheel. it was hard for him to pay attention to the road when your thighs looked so tempting, he wanted to die between them. his hand was softly placed on your thigh and without a warning he squeezed tight. you didn’t know what to do, all you did was look at him with big eyes in confusion.

“uhm… itto? everything okay?” you asked, worry lacing your words.

“mhm, mhm, all good. don’t worry your pretty little head” he was fighting the urge to pull over and just fuck you then and there. he looked to your chest and gripped tighter, good god your boobs were perfect.

your breath hitched, he was being weird again! dammit itto! you couldn’t lie, it kinda turned you on, feeling like a lamb next to a wolf. you squished your thighs together, feeling some sort of heat grow between your legs.

itto could smell that he was turning you on, being an oni had its perks. his hand trailed further up your thigh until it was a mere inch away from your pussy. the heat coming from between your thighs was making his brain go numb. he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment and you both took an awkward ride up the elevator. you felt oh so small, and he felt hungry.

once into his apartment, he just stood and stared at you for a moment. you were used to it, sometimes you did things to turn him on on purpose because it felt nice to have someone look your way. but right now it felt different. you were helpless and at his disposal, alone in his apartment.

suddenly, he marched up to you and grabbed your hand. you let out a squeak of surprise and stumbled behind him. once in his room, he slammed the door shut and shoved your body onto his bed. you were a bit scared now, you didn’t know what was to happen. he took a step toward you and lifted your chin, making you look into his eyes, “i can’t hold back anymore, ‘m sorry angel face.”

your heartbeat increased and within seconds his bottoms were down below his hips and you were pinned. you felt something hard and hot against your thigh. when you felt the wet tip you knew it had to be his cock rubbing against you. he let out needy moans and whines, just begging to be inside of you.

“let me fuck you, pretty please? you’ve been tempting me for so, so long. i bought you that skirt, you owe me” he said with a husky voice.

you looked up at him, eyes a bit teary. “i- uhm…” you stuttered out. you didn’t know what to do. you were confused and kinda scared and really horny now. “…yes” you gave him the go ahead and he was so so happy.

he kissed you hard, fangs catching on your lips. it was sloppy and wet in the hottest way. his fingers trailed to your pussy and slipped right in. it hurt because of his nails, but he needed to prep you a little bit first. he kept rutting against your thigh as he fingered you, moaning into your mouth. he pulled away from the kiss, drool and blood lacing his lips. you licked your own, they hurt and you could feel spots where he tore skin. seeing your bloody and bruised lips only turned him on more.

he took his fingers out of you, there was a bit of blood due to his finger scratching your insides, but he didn’t really care anymore. it was more of a turn on anyway. “lemme cum inside of you, wanna fill you up ‘n breed you, doll” he whispered into your ear. you did nothing but nod in agreement.

he tried to enter you slowly, but god you were so tight. he slammed in, his dick stretching out your poor pussy. you let out a cry as he did, “itto! slow down, hurts!”

he breathed heavily, something primal was taking over. as much as he didn’t wanna hurt you, he needed to cum inside you. your cries of pleasure and pain only edged him on, he needed this. “i’m sorry, can’t stop.”

he pulled out, hooking your legs over his shoulders and slamming back in. he went hard and fast as he watched your tits bounce with every thrust. your eyes rolled back, you were getting so so close to cumming.

“itto! fuck! more more please more ‘m gonna-“ you were cut off by your own scream as you came all over him. itto let out a gutteral moan watching your face contort in pure bliss.

all that came out of him was animalistic grunts and groans until he finally came inside of you. he wasn’t done with you yet though. he flipped you over, ass in the air and face in a pillow. he mounted you, fucking you even harder and digging his nails into the fat of your ass and thighs. you felt blood trailing down, but you didn’t even care anymore. all you could focus on was how good you felt.

he grabbed you by the throat, pulling you up against his body as he fucked you. “‘m gonna claim you baby, you’re mine. mine as long as you live. i’m gonna make you mine forever” he said, biting down hard in the area between your neck and shoulder. you screamed in pain, cumming as he bit down. your hands went behind itto’s head and you pulled at his hair. he kept his fangs locked in place. one hand stayed on your throat and the other trailed down to your lower abdomen. he pressed hard, feeling his cock bulge from your tummy. he came inside you again.

you both stayed in the same position, his fangs unlatching. “mine mine mine, mine forever, got it? ahh, fuck! fuck, ‘m gonna breed you full. want you dripping with my cum, got it?” he asked you.

you nodded your pretty little head. that’s all you could do. you were so brain dead by now. his hand travelled lower, going from your stomach to your clit. he rubbed it in circles, only increasing your pleasure. he bit all over your neck, leaving little marks to let people know who you belonged to. “ah, itto! ‘m gonna cum again! lemme, please please please!” you begged him.

“go ahead baby, do it for me” he said before biting down again. you came together, finally satisfying itto. he held you up for a moment, then you both fell down onto the bed. itto took your sweaty clothes off of you before removing his own.

you felt hot and sticky and in pain. you just laid there, questioning what the fuck just happened. it didn’t feel real, but the bruises and blood were proof enough, let alone the cum dripping from you. itto laid down next to you, rubbing circles on your tummy. he pulled you close and buried his face into the crook of your neck where he claimed you as his. “‘m gonna love you forever, doll. you’re stuck with me now. if i didn’t give ‘ya any babies this time we’ll keep tryin’, okay?” he said sweetly.

what the fuck did you get yourself into?

#itto x reader #arataki itto x reader #itto smut #arataki itto smut #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

When He Has Wealth And Riches

@/igorcampbell out here making amazing art that keeps inspiring me bvfbhifbv im sorry to be spamming you lol

Based on this post I wrote who versions of a fic

First Rating: Teen | warnings: none

Second Rating: Mature | Warning: prostitution

You arrived at the dinner reservation first, usually, Norton always is here first but not this time.

You go ahead to the arranged seating in the far back away from the view of most of the restaurants. That is kinda strange but okay, something different, maybe this is more romantic? The lighting is more romantic with red hues.

You just drink water for now, fix your makeup anxiously, and then play with the napkin. Oh, maybe this is too much, this place looks expensive… You never mind the local dates he would take you, in fact, you like those as it feels more personal. You feel watched here, judged, you know that is your anxiety talking but still.

You kinda want to go home.

“Aren't you look especially beautiful tonight?”

You perk up at the sound of his voice then look shocked at his outfit, “Norton?”

“What? Surprised I cleaned up well?” The outfit makes him look like a completely different person, which granted, you noticed he changed after coming back from Golden Cave. Things started looking up for Norton Campbell and he wants to share that with you.

Sliding beside you in the booth, he grins, “Sorry about the wait, I needed to put my best face on.”

“You look very handsome.” The claws are an interesting touch, “This place is different from the other place. Are you sure this is okay?”

He laughs low and smooth, “Pft, this place could barely make a dent in my pocket.” He taps the menu, “Order anything you want.”

You pick up the menu and then stare at it while is looking at you with a coy smile and his eyes wandering your handsome face.

“Norton?”

“Yeah?”

“I can't read Italian.”

“...”

Long story short: you did order something. It was small and tasty but not worth the price Norton had to pay for it along with the wine he drank most of (he did not seem to care though), but he did take you back to the old spot he used to take you for a better meal.

End

The money is a case, tossed on the table with a loud clack as it busted open and money flies out and falls all over the floor. You get up from your position on the bed that was lazy and not bothered by him bargaining unannounced. The toss of the suitcase did make you jump though.

“Campbell?” Kneeling and picking up the wrapped stacks of American hundred dollar bills, “How in the hell?!” You look at him and the most arrogant grin on his face, as if he won the game of cat and mouse between you both. “Norton, please tell me you didn't rob a bank just because I fucked you good.” Rolling your eyes.

“Ha, you're good but you aren't worth prison.”

You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god,” Sitting on the foot of the bed, “You'll be surprised what I heard people will do for another night of pleasure.” But you are still confused by the case of money, “What is all this for though?”

“I’m buying you out.”

You raise an eyebrow then laugh at him, “Norton, I told you already: you can buy me for as many nights as you want but I work here.”

“And I giving you a way out of this line of work.” Crossing his arms.

“‘Giving?’ That’s a rather strong word coming from you, Campbell.” Crossing your arms, “So let me rephrase that statement for you,” Clearing your throat as you then mock his voice, “I’m buying you to keep you out of the hands of other men.”

The grin is not faltering on his face, “I have the means and you always said diamond and money would be the only way to keep you,” He gestures to the money with one hand, “The money,” His other hand pulls out a diamond tear style necklace from his pocket, “The diamonds.”

“Norton,” Standing you awestruck by what you are seeing, “H-how? Norton, please, what did you-- My God, those are beautiful!” Walking past the table to him to touch the necklace. It is everything you imagined, shining in the light and cold to the touch, “Are these for me?”

“Of course they are! But…” Pulling them slightly away, “Only if you agree to be mine.” Serious in tone and expression.

“Of course! Anything! You have me!” Agreeing without thinking. This means freedom, money, and diamonds. You can be taken care of without worry! You know he is obsessed with you, miners get like that with pretty things but he kept to his word about getting you out of here. No more cat house, no more clients, no more wishful dreams. You will have a new cage and leash but will be in a proper luxury and your leash made of diamonds.

End

#idv #idv x you #idv reader insert #idv x reader #idv prospector #reader insert #ao3 fanfic #norton campbell #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell x you #identity v x you #identity v x reader #idv norton #identity v

[judethejudas]

COD MW2 Ghost x Stripper! Male! Reader

It’s my first time writing in a longtime and my first ever Tumblr account, so why not make some disrespectful smut as a first using the latest eye candy to hit the gamestore.  And I'm sorry if there are any spelling errors, it's 5 am and I'm too lazy to proof read. I am also a man, have no fear, or do.

WARNING: contains sexual themes, degrading, male insert only MINORS AND FEM ALIGNED DNI.

(s/n) = Stripper Name

“Jesus fuck, what the hell are we doing here, Soap?” 

The scot let out a laugh, knowing he had left out an important detail concerning their entertainment for the evening. Ghost was told that this night was to consist of booze, his buddies, and pretty girls dancing on a pole. 

Well, there was going to be booze and his buddies. 

But pretty girls on a pole? 

“I’m not gay.” 

“Well neither are we but we figured we just had to treat you to one of the best clubs in town.. And besides, it’s not just men in there. Sometimes girls go in there too.”

“You’re all as good as dead.” He grumbled out as the rest of 141 laughed. 

“Get in there already, don't keep 'em waiting.” Price laughed, leading the men to the entrance. 

With Ghost, there wasn’t too much to see out in public. He still preferred his privacy, especially when he was out with his team. He wasn’t wearing his balaclava, but he had a black mask to cover his mouth and nose.

Kept the mystery and he thought it would work like a charm with the women he would’ve met. 

Would’ve. 

Fucking Mactavish the fruit king himself had to ruin it. 

After the men passed the bouncer, they were in the club. 

Hm. It looked like your average strip joint. 

Nothing too out of the ordinary. 

Oh, except, there were scantily dressed men with their ding dongs just nearly ripping out of their undies.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“After a few drinks it won’t be so bad.. and who knows? Maybe you’ll find someone you like.” Soap winked at his friend before heading off to the bar to sit. Ghost quickly followed after, not wanting a male stripper to set his target on him. They could probably sense how awkward he was feeling and try to ‘comfort’ him. 

He doesn’t feel quite ready for that. 

Once the men took their seats, they ordered their poison of choice. Ghost ordered a particularly strong drink and downed it all in one go.

He would need it. 

“So, Simon, we have just one more little surprise for you. You don’t even have to pay for it.” Price snickered, as did the other men. All except Ghost, of course. 

Dear god no. 

Ghost was about to seriously protest the little game Soap was playing but then he felt a hand hold onto his shoulder. He quickly turned to see who it was.

Oh boy. 

It was a man. A stripper man. Wearing nothing but black, short briefs and suspenders across his chest connected to his underwear. A bow tie around his neck and… bunny ears. 

“I was hired to entertain a glum looking man tonight by your friends. You feel like coming with me to the back, sweetheart?”

“Oh yes he would like that very much indeed.” Soap gave his poor friend a nudge off his seat and into the welcoming arm of the playboy bunny— to which his hand was then taken and lead to the back rooms for a private dance. 

There was hellfire in Ghost’s eyes that was burning directly to Soap as he was taken away— to which the Scottish man only raised his glass to his teammate with a laugh.

Entering the neon purple lit door, Ghost’s ears were met with different beats of music coming from the closed rooms they passed and very dim lighting. He assumed that the strippers and their clients were having their private parties, and now it was his turn. 

Fucking Soap was going to regret this. 

“Hey— listen, I’m not.. like anyone else here, alright? This isn’t my line.” Ghost muttered in embarrassment, attempting to cling onto what dignity he had left before coming into this place. 

“Of course, if you’re comfortable with your sexuality then what do you have to worry about, huh? It’s just a little dance.” You giggled, turning into your own private room. There was a sofa that hugged against the walls of the small room and nothing else. 

Just you and him. 

“Oh, my name is (s/n) by the way. I know your team calls you Ghost but if you wanna go by anything else, let me know.”

You made your way to the digital screen on the wall to put on your music of choice. The light was better in here so Simon could also get a better look at what he was about to get into. 

He honestly thought you’d be one of those tight, little dainty looking men he saw out in the front of the club.. but no.

You were taller. Taller than he was. Possibly 6’4 and very well built. Like you hadn’t skipped even one day at the gym. You didn’t look like a stripper at all. If anything they should have hired you as the bouncer. 

Ghost couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of you was just as big. 

Was that gay of him to think about your dick size or just natural curiosity?

“You ever had a lap dance before, lieutenant?”

“Well, not by a man, and definitely not one that looks like you I can tell ya that.”

You chuckled, your hand coming up to rest on your hip. 

“I get that a lot actually. Sometimes I think I’m in the wrong profession but..”

You took a few steps closer to Ghost, backing him up towards the sofa and getting very close to his body— where just an inch of air separated you. 

“Sometimes I can’t help but enjoy it.” You mumbled in his ear, before pushing him down gently to sit on the sofa. 

“But I do have to lay down some rules, big boy. Number one, no touching me. That’s my job. Number two, don’t ask me to marry you or tell me you’re going to take me away from all this. I’m fine right where I am. And number three..” You said the last part as your leg was propped up just beside Ghost’s, revealing your crotch a lot more. 

“Don’t take your eyes off me.” You winked, getting closer to him to the point you were sitting on his lap, legs on either side of him. 

Ghost held in his breath as your hands came up to roam his body. They touched from his sides and travelled upwards to his pecs and shoulders, giving his solid body parts a massage. 

“So tense.. you should try relaxing a little more.” Your voice was just below a whisper and eyes darkening with lust. Ghost definitely wasn’t taking his eyes off you now, especially since you were literally on top of him.

“You can understand why that might be difficult for me, yeah?” He replied, which made you chuckle. 

“Just breathe for me, baby.” 

Then you started your dance. Grinding against him to the beat of the music while your hands came up to teasingly play with your suspenders. 

You would caress his body and whisper dirty things in his ear. Even slide off his lap to be kneeling in front of his crotch. Your hands would spread his legs and you’d give him such a pretty, horny stare that made Ghost’s breathing hitch. 

Thank god for the mask hiding most of his reactions to you.

“Fucking hell.” He mumbled under his breath. 

You stood up, snapping the suspenders off and tossing them to the side while Ghost could only sit there and watch you intensely. 

You turned around, showing your ass to him and giving it a few shakes and slaps. Your head looked back at him and smirked, before sitting on him again with your back to his chest and grinding again. 

“You in the military then? I know the men you came in here with but this is my first time meeting you.. so cruel of you to keep me waiting for so long, Ghost.” You breathed out sensually, your hand coming up to cup his masked cheek. He had to admit, the way his code name came off your tongue made his blood rush somewhere.. 

“Believe me. If I knew you were here then I would’ve come here myself.” 

Now there was a change in attitude. 

“Mmm, I would’ve loved to have all that time with you. You’re making me feel so hot.”

“Does that mean I get to touch you then?” 

Your eyes looked back to him and found his own staring back at you, just as dimmed with a longing that couldn’t be satisfied with just a dance. 

Not once have you ever let a man touch you in this club. You were very strict about your rules and the bouncers definitely were too. You two could get in quite a bit of trouble. 

“Touch me.” 

His arms immediately went to circle around your waist, his hand touching your half hard cock through your underwear. Then he started rubbing it.

You moaned, pulling his mask down to give him a deep kiss as you kept grinding on him.

Any other time Ghost wouldn’t allow some stranger to look at his face, but when he felt your tongue touch his, he simply couldn’t find a reason to care.

He turned you around so you were facing him again and you resumed the rutting against each other. Your tongues clashed together and the breathing got much heavier. You couldn’t help yourself anymore, he was just so hot and his voice was doing so much to you. How could you resist? 

“Fuck.. fuck, Ghost. Please..” you moaned out in between kisses, your cock fully hard and erect. Ghost was feeling the pressure in his pants as well and went to unzip his own trousers. 

“Call me Simon.” He panted, then took your cock out of the confines of your briefs and started stroking it. So, you were big down there after all. A whole 10 inches with pre cum already coming out from the tip. 

You grunted, pushing into his touch and immediately losing yourself in the pleasure he gave you. His hand felt so much better than your own, and you wanted to return the favor. 

Your hand went down to take his dick out too, and what an impressive size he was as well. About 9 inches long and so very hard. 

“You look so pretty like this.. touching my cock and grinding against me like a little submissive slut.” Ghost groaned out, still not believing how such a large man like you could be acting like a whore. For him. It was so hot. 

You whimpered, feeling yourself get closer and closer to release as his strokes became more erratic. 

“I’m gonna cum.” You squealed out, pushing into his hand more quickly and panting like a bitch in heat. 

Then he suddenly took his hand away and took yours off of his own length. 

“What.. no, S-Simon please, I wanna cum..!” You cried out, trying desperately to grind against him again to get more friction. 

“Get on your hands and knees right now, I wanna fuck you from behind.” Ghost demanded as you bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement as you got into his desired position on the couch and pulled down your underwear. 

His hand came down to give you a slap on your ass and you gasped. 

“You’ll have to forgive me since I’ve never done it with a man, but I have a feeling I’ll get the hang of it real soon. Just be a good boy for me and keep that pretty ass in the air.” 

“Yes, sir.” You breathed out, and graciously accepted his two fingers that were going into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around his digits to coat them in spit. 

Once they felt ready, Ghost took his fingers out and immediately started prodding your asshole. 

You gasped, feeling one finger slip in as well as the other. 

“Oh fuck..” You moaned, pushing back against his fingers to make them go deeper. Ghost groaned at the sight and started fingering and scissoring you, prepping you for something much larger. 

“Mmhhh Simon, I want it. Please put it in, I can’t wait anymore.” You begged for his cock, looking back at him with desperation. Ghost could just cum at the sight of you right now. 

“You got it, baby.” 

He spit in his hand and started stroking his cock, lubing it to the best of his ability as to not hurt you. 

You were practically drooling at the sight of his dick behind you, all wet with saliva and rock hard. 

You felt his tip enter you and you groaned, before feeling a few more inches sliding in. 

“Fuck.. you’re so tight.” The British man sucked a breath in between his teeth, this was a squeeze he never felt in his life. And it was incredible. 

The rest of his length was pushed in until you were completely bottomed out. God, it’s been so long since you were filled like this. 

You felt a slap on your ass and you moaned out loudly, hiding your face in the couch. 

“Start moving, bitch.” 

And you listened to him. Your ass moved back and forth obediently to push against his dick. You felt his hands holding onto your  hips and helping out by thrusting in and out of you. 

“It feels so good..” You moaned and squealed whenever he hit your prostate, your back arching so your ass was more in the air and Ghost gave it another slap. 

“You like my cock, huh? I’m practically a fuckin’ stranger and you’re taking in my dick so easily.” He talked down at you in such a sexy way it made your heart race. He was grunting as his pace started to speed up and you nodded profusely, mumbling about how you were his little slut and his only. 

“That’s right. There’s no one else who’s going to fuck you as good as this.” 

The sound of skin against slapping skin was getting louder and louder. The breathing only got heavier and your moans mixed with his deep grunts were much more common. Before, he would hit your prostate on occasion but he was ramming into it dead on now. 

“I’m close.. come on and show me your face, pretty boy.” Ghost panted pulling his cock out and stroking himself quickly, standing up on the floor so he towered over you. 

You got onto the floor and on your knees, jerking yourself off as well as you stared at him with tear soaked lashes. 

What a gorgeous sight you were. 

It was enough to make Ghost’s cock spurt with warm cum and right on your face. You gasped and moaned, feeling your own sticky release coating your fingers and dripping onto the floor. 

The two of you were out of breath but knew you had limited time before the bouncers would be checking. 

You both spruced yourselves up and Ghost helped you clean the mess off your face, giggling as he apologized. 

“Don’t be sorry, I had a lot of fun.. and I hope to see you sometime again.” You smiled as he put his mask back on. 

“You can count on that, love.” 

---

:)))) hope you guys enjoyed it

#cod #codghost #ghost #simonriley #codmw2 #mw2 #mw2ghost #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #smut #ghost x male!reader

[vhagarlovebot]

oh gods this is not a request, but the previous anon who spoke about Aemond being introduced in a loving environment around food is SO right!

it might be the fact that I am also Italian and I have always been forced to spend the meals around my family but now that I am living far from them and I rarely share the meal with somebody, I truly treasure those moments, so I can totally see Aemond doing the same.

(I truly can't wait for that request to be out and thank you nonnie for requesting it and thank you for bringing it up). I just wanted to add my own thought that I think that also, with how they were raised, none of the Targaryen-Hightower children ever learned how to properly cook for themselves (like at first they had staff for meals and then in college: Aegon was too lazy, Aemond was too busy and Helaena probably forgets to eat too many times). and I just imagine Aemond with a s/o who actually discovers this (like they come to hang out to his place and they always have take out, which is fine... if you have Aemond's money, but... let's see what's in your fridge... nothing?!).

and the s/o low key bringing him homemade food/leftovers and teaching him how to cook basic stuff to survive and then having kitchen lessons together, which end up with burnt food and flour on their faces as they giggle, I... ok new love language: food.

gwen’s note: no bc i’m living in a different city now (6 hours away from my family) and when they call me every weekend and i see them all together my heart breaks 💔 bc i miss that. and writing that req while i’m with them for the holidays just made me the happiest.

imagine going to aemond’s apartment for the first time, you have been seeing each other for a couple of weeks now. he takes you there because his siblings aren’t home and he can have a little peace and intimate moment with you. but you are starving because you haven’t eaten anything, just coffee after leaving your house in the morning, and the popcorns you ate during the movie weren’t enough.

“i make this incredible chicken,” you say, taking off your coat, walking to the kitchen. “and i mean finger-licking good.” you open the fridge, listing the vegetables you’ll need in your head, only to find it empty.

you find nothing in the kitchen, no groceries, no fruits, no vegetables. it is a miracle they have plates and glasses.

you end up eating take out. and after the meal, as you cuddle on the sofa watching true crime documentaries, you grab his phone, opening the notes, and when aemond asks what are you doing, you simply show him the screen that reads “groceries <3”.

the next day you go to the grocery store, and you love going to that place, to buy everything you will need to make your recipe and what you know they need to basically survive. aemond says you don’t need to look at the prices because he can pay for all of it, and oh of course you know that.

and when you go back to the house, aegon, helaena and daeron are already there, surprised at seeing so many bags full of different kinds of things.

you spend the rest of the day organizing the entire kitchen with their help, trying to teach them basic things like how to make pasta and rice, and how to use the brand new oven they haven’t used since they got the apartment.

and you make that special chicken recipe you learnt from your grandma, with three pair of blue eyes watching very closely your every move.

the four siblings end up eating a homemade dinner, sitting on the big table in their living room for the first time.

#📮 ⌇ my works ​˖⋆࿐ #modern!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x reader #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader

[altvec]

Everyone deserves to break at least one window in their life

A/n: Reader is Irish because I say so. The football mentioned is BRITISH football😒 Also this is half assed and not proof read because I’m lazy🫶🏼

“WHO THE FUCK BROKE THIS WINDOW?!” A heavy British voice could be heard from inside the base. M/n looked over at Soap and Gaz then back at the window.

“Fuck that you’re on your own.” Gaz held his hands up in surrender, soon walking off and away from sight.

M/n felt the colour drain from his face as Gaz spoke, then turned back to Soap. Soap was slowly backing away but stopped almost instantly when M/n shot him a glare.

“Not dealing with an angry Price by yourself, got it.”

At that, Price’s heavy boots could be heard storming out of the base. In his hand he held a football, his face filled with anger as he stopped in front of m/n and Soap. I stood holding the ball in one hand and his hand on his hip, he didn’t say a word, his face said it all

“Soap did it.”

“I DINNY DE SHAET!”

“Sargents!” Price’s voice boomed as he stared the both of them down. M/n stood up straight, hands behind their back, they felt the wind going through their muted (f/c) tee. Soap followed in M/n actions.

“Either one of yous better own up or so help me God you’re going to do laps until you both collapse. Do you know how much money it is to fix a window these days?! Inflation Sargents! Inflation!”

Price sounded like a damned old man, going on about inflation. M/n blinked, suppressing a laugh. He sounded like their father, always complaining about how expensive the world has gotten.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, soldier.” Price scolded. Yep. Just like m/n dad.

M/n made a quick look over to Soap, he was clearly pissed that they tried to shift the blame over to him. They rolled their eyes back over to Price, his brows slightly raised, demanding an answer.

“Fine..it was me. I’m sorry, I’ll pay for the damages.” M/n finally admitted, he was expecting a harsh punishment, cleaning the entire base, running laps til they collapsed, suspending them from missions but no.

“Oh. Nevermind then.” Price tone shifted. A big bad angry one to a soft understanding one.

“What..?” M/n tilted their head in confusion and relaxed their shoulders. “I said nevermind. You haven’t broken a window yet.” Price replied, kicking the ball back to m/n with his foot. M/n has never been so confused in his life, what the hell did he mean by that?

“Ohhh I get it now.” Soap’s Scottish accent rang through m/n ears, they turned back over to Soap, confusion writing all over their face. “We git wan chance to do damage anythin’ on te base withou’ Capt’ getting mad, Gaz, Ghost and I ‘ready had our share.” They nodded their head in understanding.

“God you’re so Scottish.”

“AYE! DONT SAE ANYTHIN’ YE IRISH BASTARD!”

#call of duty #ghost simon riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #football #reader #reader is silly #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

[yieldfruit]

Walking Away From The Truth: How Does Apostasy Happen?

As believers, we love Jesus, we follow Him, we’re all in. We’re so thankful for the gospel—for being transformed and given new life. So we don’t understand how anybody who’s tasted that could ever walk away from it. How does apostasy happen? I’ve discovered about thirty different reasons the Bible has for why it happens. Here are a few.

Number one, persecution. People just do not want to pay the price to follow Jesus, especially publicly. Popularity and other people’s opinions are just way too important to them. “If I made a big deal about Jesus publicly, it could hurt my business or my status in the community.”

In Jesus’ parable about the sower and the seed, there are different hearts of people who heard the message. Jesus said that when persecution or tribulation arises because of the Word, some fall away. They stumble (see Matthew 13:20-21).

Another reason is mixed devotion. Some people come to church, but they’re fence-sitters. They think, “I’m attracted to the Jesus who forgives me for my sins and gives me joy and purpose, but there’s a lot of fun stuff to do in this world.” They’re earthbound. They’re after momentary comfort rather than Jesus and discipleship.

The Bible says, “Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him” (1 John 2:15). In the sower parable, Jesus said, “The cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and he becomes unfruitful” (Matthew 13:22).

A third reason it can happen is because it’s just plain hard to follow Jesus for some—probably for all of us—at one point or another. Have you ever read something and thought, “I have to live that? That’s hard!” I certainly have.

When people heard Jesus’ sermon in John 6, it was a tough message to receive. They said, “This is [a] hard saying; who can hear it?” (John 6:60, KJV). And then we’re told, “From that time many of His disciples went back and walked with Him no more” (John 6:66). The demands were too difficult.

Another reason people apostatize is because they’re not paying attention. Sounds like something your teacher would say, right? But it’s possible to fall away because you’re not really grabbing hold of the truth. Hebrews 2:1 says, “Therefore we must give the more earnest heed to the things we have heard, lest we drift away.”

Another reason it can happen is laziness. Some people just aren’t interested in coming to church. They distance themselves from it because they don’t want that accountability of having other believers around them.

But Hebrews 10:25 says, “not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching.”

These are just a few reasons. The Bible lists many more, including Satan’s devices, an unbelieving heart, a hardened heart, rebellion, bitterness, immorality, disrespect of leadership, not mixing God’s promises with faith.

In fact, the majority of those exposed to the Gospel will turn away from it. Look at the math from the parable of the sower and the seed. Of all the people that heard the truth, only twenty-five percent bore any kind of fruit, and a very small percentage bore what Jesus called hundred-fold fruit (see Matthew 13:23).

It’s no wonder that Jesus said, “Wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction…. Narrow is the gate…which leads to life, and there are few who find it” (Matthew 7:13-14). Not most, not a lot—few. No wonder Jesus will say to many, “I never knew you; depart from Me” (Matthew 7:23).

Skip Heitzig

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 52 – The Gods Are Bastards Volume Three by D. D. Webb

Okay this is properly a review for Books 8, 9, and 10 of the gargantuan serial – which I’ll freely admit I read more than a month ago in one week-long fugue along with all the books before them and the next few after. Which is to say I really shouldn’t have waited this long to write this review, and my apologies for all the vagueness and inaccuracies that are going to result. Which is a pity, because this is the best volume of the serial I’ve read and it isn’t even particularly close.

The serial continues the story of a Dungeons & Dragons-esque generic fantasy world advanced a couple hundred years and in the throes of a magical industrial revolution. The story theoretically stars the now-sophomore class of almost comically privileged and powerful students at what’s basically Adventurer University, but compared to the previous volumes they get barely any screentime in this one. Instead you get the Bishop of the god of thieves, the Archpope of the Universal Church, their respective pet openly-plotting-and-near-mutinous adventuring parties, political intrigue in the goddess of war, and a huntsman we’ve never met before learning the secrets of creation and also that his god was always just kind of a dick. It’s great! Also, to reiterate, the students get barely any screentime!

Really I kind of get the sense that I’m a deeply atypical fantasy reader, in that I find 90% of both involved romance plots and drawn out action scenes deeply tedious and basically the price you pay to get at the good parts of the story. In this case the good part is incredibly byzantine and too-complicated-by-half political shadowboxing carried out by proxies only barely kept on their masters’ leashes. Also several thousand words of pure exposition about the deep lore of the setting delivered by a malfunctioning AI.

Because yes, the big massive reveal of the volume is that the elder gods who were overthrown millennia before the story began had actually pulled a Lord of Light. The world runs on generic fantasy tropes because it was created by powermad demiurges who were also specifically insufferable 20th/21st century earth fantasy nerds. The different types of magic were just the results of them folding and rewriting physics, the fact that mortals can only access four is down to the vast majority getting wrecked when their creators died in the Titanomachy. Gnomes are an apparently successful attempt to perfect humanoid life.

This is, first and foremost, an absolutely hilarious bit of worldbuilding. Like, I actually burst out laughing. Knowing that orcs existed because the elder gods were big Tolkein and Warcraft fans may have permanently damaged my ability to take the setting seriously on its on terms but like, honestly? Probably worth it. Also just an excellent excuse for any shotcuts of contradictions in the worldbuilding and for all the kind of lazy fantasy worldbuilding tropes.

While it hasn’t happened yet, I hold out some hope that the increased pivot to the divine and Deep Lore means the serial will start to live up to its title and foreground the gods and their bastardry more – as I’ve said before, a narrative where the literal lords of creation are present but only because they just show up sometimes to descend to earth and make the protagonists lives easier is just boring. Which is why Archpope Justinian, the scheming mastermind who wants to overthrow heaven and earth and works exclusively through needlessly convoluted schemes that don’t stop a single person from knowing he’s to blame. I’m sorry but ‘somehow brainwashed the gods into making him their high priest so he can use the resources of their church as his personal power base’ is such a great bit. Also he’s opposed by literally every major POV so of course I need to root for him. (Honorary mention to Basra Syrinx, who is literally just The Worst in an incredibly entertaining way)

#book review #web serial #sff #the gods are bastards #d. d. webb

[arrowofcarnations]

Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 6: Rainy Day

Having the time of my life reading everyone's fics on @noots-fic-fests! Y'all are brilliant, just brilliant. Spending a cozy, spicy morning with (genderbent!) Tremzy and Loops today for day six. It was a joy and privilege to write this with the one and only @fruitcoops—thank you times a million for working on this with me while writing a slew of other amazing fics for the fest! Major props to @lumosinlove as always for these characters that we love so dearly.

Title: Come Rain or Come Shine Characters: Remus Lupin/Logan Tremblay Rating: E

[Quick context for this au since it's a bit specific: Coops & O'Knutzy are happily married, retired hockey ladies (and moms!). No cheating or drama here, just some spice between besties on their day off. If you've been in some of the spicy 5SCU threads on the server, this'll be a familiar dynamic. Feel free to skip if this isn't your thing! <3]

It was a lazy Saturday morning, and Logan was taking full advantage of the soft bed and quiet house she was in. Seven o'clock slipped into eight, then eight into nine; it was nearly ten when she finally pulled herself from half-sleep fully into the land of the living, joints popping as she stretched, yawned, and rolled onto her other side to see if the woman next to her was awake yet.

Amber eyes met hers behind a pair of reading glasses that were ever so slightly askew. Remus smiled, greeting her with a soft "Morning." Awake, then.

And she had been for a while, if the laptop perched on her stomach was anything to go by. Logan shuffled under the sheets until she could cozy up to her, head on Remus' pillow and an arm snaking around her middle (almost tipping the computer over in the process—a small price to pay for premium morning-Remus-cuddles).

"Bonjour," Logan said, yawning again. She looked from the screen, which had about a hundred tabs open, back up to Remus' face. "I don't think you understood the 'morning off' thing, Loops."

"This is my morning off," Remus murmured, though she was smiling when she combed through Logan's hair. Her blunt nails scratched at Logan's scalp and sent tingles down her arms.

"Non, non, non, no work."

"It's not work. It's vacation."

"Anything other than laying in bed with me and enjoying our morning is work."

Remus scrutinized her with a playfully critical eye. "You know, something tells me I'll still end up doing work if that happens."

"You're a killjoy, Lupin."

"So my wife tells me, every day."

“No she doesn’t.” Logan lifted her arm to try and nudge the laptop shut, but Remus kept hold of it. Logan sighed. She could tell Remus wasn’t going to be coaxed into going back to sleep, but she was still in bed. There was hope for this morning yet.

“D’accord,” Logan conceded, sitting up to stretch her arms over her head again before dropping a kiss to Remus' cheek and rolling out of bed. She shivered as her toes touched the wood floorboards. “Slippers?”

“Mm, bathroom, maybe?”

Logan headed there, re-emerging after washing up with blessedly warm feet. When she came back into the room, Remus was smiling at her, fond and amused. 

“Quoi?”

“Nothing,” Remus laughed. “You’re, like, so happy about those slippers. I can see it on your face. It’s cute.”

Logan glanced down at them, flexing her toes in their plush cocoon. “They’re warm,” she said simply. “Cold mornings lately.”

“Could put more clothes on, Ms. Tank-Top-Tiny-Boxer-Briefs.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at her. “You want me to put more clothes on?”

Remus didn’t hesitate. “No.”

Logan smiled. Right answer. “I’m making us breakfast and bringing it back in here. Don’t move.”

Making breakfast, in Logan’s mind anyway, meant reheating some of the frittata Leo had made yesterday morning and pulling out the French press. She hummed absently to herself as she did it, watching late-September rain fall steadily outside the kitchen windows.

She checked her phone as the coffee brewed, smiling at the pictures and updates Sirius, Finn and Leo had been sending them from their big aquarium trip with the kids. She replayed the video Finn had sent, then replayed it again, heart squeezing at the missing-tooth-grin of the youngest of the bunch, Juliette, as she posed in front of a passing shark.

The middlest ones had, at some point in the last week, decided it was high time to become a dynamic duo after years of being anything but. Logan had given up on trying to figure out why—as long as they were happy, she was content in her ignorance. They seemed to be having an excellent time mimicking the megalodon’s grin regardless. Helena’s hair had come half-out of her ponytail at some point during the day where she perched on Sirius’ shoulders; beside her, wearing a matching roar, Sam’s shorts matched Leo’s bucket hat. On theme, per usual.

Logan tapped her sugar spoon blindly on the edge of her cup while she scrolled through the text thread. Teddy had clearly decided photos were too cringe for a 14-year-old, if that Captain-caliber scowl said anything. Logan snorted to herself and saved the picture to her phone. That one was going in her scrapbook.

The frittata dish caught her thumb when she went to slip it out of the oven. Logan swore softly to herself, then paused. Nobody else was within earshot. For a moment, thrill overwhelmed pain.

“Fuck!”

Nobody responded. There were no calls of language or Lo-gan or a quick check to make sure the littles were out of earshot.

Logan sighed aloud and smiled to no one in particular, and set about finding a clean dish for their breakfast. One plate would be enough.

“I burned myself,” she announced as she headed back upstairs.

“Why?”

“Reasons.” She stepped out of her slippers at the edge of the bed before clambering up and into Remus’ lap, careful not to bend the little bears’ ears. She set their breakfast aside and pushed her thumb against Remus’ lips. “Right here. Ouch.”

Remus’ lips flirted with a smile. “Poor baby.”

Logan hummed when she took her thumb into her mouth to the first knuckle. Her narrow jaw fit ever so nicely in the bend of Logan’s palm.

“Ouais, now you’re getting the idea,” Logan said, half tease, half encouragement. There were a few things she’d be willing to let her breakfast go cold for—many of them involving Remus’ mouth.

She was a tad disappointed when Remus pulled off with a wet pop. Remus just patted her cheek—unmoved by her best pout, rude—and turned her gaze back to the fifth hotel site Logan had seen that morning alone. 

Logan unceremoniously shut the laptop and pushed it out of reach, ignoring Remus’ protests.

“If you aren’t going to eat me, at least eat Knutty’s cooking.” Logan plopped the plate into Remus’ now-empty lap, then put a steaming mug in her hands. 

Remus looked like she wanted to be annoyed for a second, but a smile won out. “Worrying over me? You sound like your better halves.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Logan nudged Remus’ shin with her foot. “Eat. I know you only had a cup of tea this morning, I saw it in the sink.”

“And toast.” Remus hid her smile in the rim of her coffee mug. “But you didn’t see that one, because I always wash my dishes.”

“What are you trying to imply?”

“How long has it been since Harzy let you two wash a dish, hmm?” A tease gleamed in Remus’ eye as she reached for the frittata.

Logan huffed. “How long have we known Leo?”

“Not long enough.”

“Cheers to that.” She clinked their forks together and Remus laughed, morning-rough but sweet as ever. Logan shuffled over to bump their foreheads; Remus pushed into it a little, nuzzling close.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Logan rapped her knuckles on the laptop. “What’s all this?”

Remus blinked, but her face gave away nothing. “Family vacation,” she said simply.

Still stubborn, after all these years. She couldn’t fool Logan, though—not back when their friendship was new and green as a spring sapling, budding in arenas and locker rooms and airports, and certainly not now. Not after all they’d shared. Their roots went all the way down to bedrock.

“Loops.”

“What? Between us four and you five, everybody’s schedules, it’s a lot to plan.”

“Rayon de lune.”

Remus paused, sighed, and folded her arms across her chest, over a threadbare t-shirt that Logan was pretty sure had belonged to Leo way back when. “Can we…not? Let’s just enjoy the morning, like you said.”

“D’accord,” Logan agreed, spearing a bite of food and holding it to Remus’ lips in offering. Remus seemed a little surprised at that, like she was expecting Logan to press her on it, but she dropped a grateful kiss to Logan’s temple and took the proffered bite.

No need to push yet; they had time. A whole rainy day together to unwind from a long week of pickups and dropoffs and chauffeuring kids to and from school and activities and friends’ houses. Besides, Remus was always more prone to opening up after a good dose of spoiling.

"Nice shirt."

Remus' lips quirked up at the side. "Thought you might like it."

"Little loose on you, though." Logan jumped at the swift swat to her thigh, just below the hem of her shorts. "Hey!"

"I don't want to hear jack about my tits from you, miss thing," Remus warned. Her arms uncrossed and snaked around Logan's waist to pull her further into her lap (and closer to her sly smirk). Her teeth grazed the strap of Logan's tank top, nearly touching the smudge of a hickey left by a wandering mouth two nights before.

Logan twirled a loose wave at the base of Remus' neck. "That's Mrs. Thing to you."

A quick bite made her hiss. Remus' tongue peeked out beneath her crooked canine tooth. "How about little lady?"

"Yeehaw," Logan whispered through a grin. The frames of Remus' reading glasses were cold on her nose as they giggled into the tiny space between them. She let thick hair fall through her fingers and combed through the nape a few times, then wound a good fistful and pulled until Remus' face was upturned toward her own.

Clear caramel had grown dark near the pupil. Remus smiled lazily. "Howdy."

Logan smiled into the first kiss, then the second, then the third, letting herself linger more with each one until Remus was chasing her mouth. She pulled back, though, earning a frown from the woman under her.

“I’ll give you more,” Logan promised. She ducked to leave a kiss on the elegant curve of Remus’ neck for emphasis, then reached for her glasses, gently taking them off her face and folding them with care. “Un moment.”

“Mm, you better.”

She gathered up their breakfast detritus and set it all on the nightstand. Then she grabbed the laptop to move it out of the way, too. She caught a glimpse of Remus’ background—a photo Logan had taken of her and Sirius at the arena the night Sirius’ number was retired. They stood side by side at center ice on the carpet rolled out for the occasion. Logan knew a much smaller Teddy was clinging to Sirius’s leg just out of frame. Sirius’ gaze was turned upward, no doubt watching BLACK, 12 being lifted to the rafters, expression as openly moved as Logan had ever seen it in such a public space. Remus’ head was turned so she could look at Sirius’ face, watching her with such love and awe that Lo had had to snap a picture.

Remus must have seen something on Logan’s face now as she resettled in her lap, because she tucked Logan’s hair behind her ear and said, “What?”

Logan shook her head, smiling, and cupped Remus’ cheek, rubbing her thumb over the faint silver-white of an old scar. “Tes seins sont magnifiques.”

Remus snorted, but Logan caught the pleased flush blooming on her cheeks before her mouth found that spot again, this time getting her teeth around the tank top strap and easing it off Logan’s shoulder.

Logan sighed and let her head tip in a silent request, leaving more room for Remus to work. The lips on her collarbone parted for a heavy breath as she slid over to the knob of Logan's shoulder and the slope of her neck. Logan felt her pause at every mottled mark mimicking the curve of a mouth. There were plenty to choose from, and a gradient of colors to rival the flag at the front of their house. "Someone had a fun time with you," Remus mused.

"Ouais, lots." Logan gave gentle pressure to the back of her head. "Want to add your name to the list?"

Remus made a quiet noise that would have been a laugh if it wasn't so intrigued. Her fingers trailed up Logan's back, then walked along her ribcage to tug the neckline of her top. Always so delicate, until she wasn't. Arousal dripped through Logan. "Depends. Are you gonna let me see?"

Her thighs were soft and strong and lean when Logan spread her knees another inch; the quick, light touch of tongue to the hinge of her jaw made her stomach go fluttery. "You get to do more than see, clair de lune.”

Remus breathed a smile into the top of her breast before those careful fingers slipped her other strap off and let gravity do the rest. "You need to get more creative," she said. Logan closed her eyes at the slick drag of a mouth to her sternum and beyond, down to where her cleavage was shallow and dimpled by the bedsheets. A nuzzle, and her tank top fell to her hips. A long exhale, and Remus' hand was cupping the round curve of her ass. Logan may have retired from hockey, but there were some things she refused to leave in her early twenties.

“Gonna be hard to find a good spot,” Remus said with faux concern, giving Logan’s ass an indulgent squeeze as she looked her bare torso up and down.

Logan shivered under the weight of that gaze, under its heat, its promise of good things to come. A thumb pressed suddenly into a purple bruise on Logan’s hip just below her tattoo, firmly enough to make her gasp at the pleasure-pain of it.

“You’re already covered, greedy thing,” Remus continued. Logan’s breath stuttered; they both knew how much she liked it when Remus started out like this, putting on an air of casual interest just to make Logan squirm. “Hope you gave back as good as you got.”

“Ouais, I did. Rode Leo’s strap ‘til my legs gave out, then Harz held me up so she could keep going.” She felt heat spark in her gut at the mere memory. Logan’s hands found Remus’ chest, gently pushing her back against the sheets so she could stretch out on top of her and kiss that smirk until they were both breathless.

She kissed one of Remus’ cheeks, then the other, then left a sweet peck on a smattering of summer-sun freckles across her nose that had yet to fade. Pride zinged through her at the hunger she saw in Remus’ eyes as she pulled back.

“Want it like that, Re?”

"I think..." Remus sighed, settling her fingertips in the dip of Logan's spine with a look of such sheer contentment that it made Logan's heart ache. Her gaze was gentle on Logan's face despite the radiant heat. She hummed again; Logan felt a light push to her hip and rolled to accommodate it until they were on their sides, sliding her leg up to fall over Remus' own. A kiss found her in the hollow between them. Remus started to prop herself up on an elbow, but gave up halfway through and laid down once more, shuffling close.

"I think I want what I want," Remus finally finished.

Logan smiled into her full lower lip. "And what do you want?"

"You."

"You have me."

"Hmm. Gonna let me?"

"Let you what?" It was so fun like this. So fun. Back-and-forth built on years of quiet understanding, from the moment Logan let herself cry on Remus' examination table and didn't fear what she might think.

Remus' nose scrunched with happiness. "Have you."

"Like I'd ever say no when you look this good," Logan answered. Remus shivered when she slid a hand beneath her shirt, going pink at the cheeks. Logan needed her; needed her fiercely. Hands and mouth, whatever Remus would spare for her. Their next kiss was rougher and Logan let her hand dig in, bringing Remus closer until her bare chest pressed against worn-soft fabric. She could feel each of Remus' breaths like her own and friction sent pleasure prickling through her belly.

Logan moved down to Remus' neck, pressing all her desire into the soft skin there with sloppy, overlapping kisses that covered every inch within reach. Spurred on by the low sound that tumbled out of Remus' mouth and the feeling of a hand cradling the back of her head, Logan worked on leaving a few good marks of her own. Her palm slid over Remus' breast; she sighed into the hollow of Remus' throat, savoring the perfect handful. The swipe of a thumb across her nipple made Remus gasp and press up against Logan’s fingers and mouth in a silent bid for more.

“Si bon,” Logan mumbled, nibbling at the skin just above the t-shirt hem. Praise was always part of it for both of them, heating the room like a freshly stoked fire. 

“Want me to take you?” Remus' voice came from above her, lower like it always got when she was turned on.

Logan laughed a little because, really, what kind of question was that? “Thought that was obvious.”

“Show me, then.”

Logan redoubled her efforts, the hand under Remus' shirt toying with each breast as she licked a broad stripe from her collarbone to the delicate skin under her jaw. The hand in her hair tightened suddenly; Logan’s breath hitched as Remus pulled her off and up so they were eye to eye. The look on her face made Logan’s stomach swoop.

“No, honey,” Remus tutted. “Show me.”

Heat spiked through Logan with such force it would’ve made her sway if she hadn’t been laying down. She scrambled up onto her knees as Remus moved to sit back against the headboard, watching her. She pushed her boxers and forgotten tank top the rest of the way off her body and knelt again, letting Remus see. Her heart was pounding as she spread her knees a little on the bed, then reached a hand down between her legs, biting back a moan as she dragged her fingertips through the gathering wetness there. She drew in a lungful of the charged air between them, keeping her eyes on Remus as she brought her glistening fingers to her mouth and sucked.

“God,” Remus breathed, fingers twitching like she wanted—needed—to touch. Logan loved it when they looked at her like that. She could feel it on her body like electric kisses, pricking and tickling their way along new-bared skin.

Logan swirled her tongue around her knuckles and pressed in on Remus’ thighs. When she brought them out again, she made sure to let the slickness drag over her lip before reaching down to herself once more.

“Like that.” Remus’ eyes went wide and dark; her hands slid behind Logan’s knees and gripped. “Touch yourself, honey. Get ready for me.”

Get ready for me. How many times had Leo urged the same in her low purr, all while Finn’s quick hands cinched her strap tight? How many times had Logan let them watch her fingers pump in and out before they took her hands away and brought her to the searing edge?

Remus would do that for her. Logan may not even need to ask.

“Don’t come.”

Logan whined low in her throat.

“Don’t,” Remus warned. Logan loved how commanding she could be; the way it snuck up on people who saw her sweet, gentle face and little else.

Logan slowed her hand and watched that face change. Remus’ smile grew sharp at the corners.

“Good girl.”

Logan bit her lip against a groan. That was a phrase she’d never get tired of hearing.

She kept up her steady pace, slipping her fingers out of herself occasionally to rub her clit with teasing pressure, as Remus stripped off her t-shirt at last, tossing it to the floor with her underwear so Logan could finally see all of her. As instructed, she didn’t bring herself off; it took quite a bit of willpower, thank you very much, but she only gave herself enough to bring the cliff’s edge of her orgasm into sight. Remus would make it worth the wait. She always did.

She put up no resistance as Remus coaxed her onto her back. Remus settled on top of her for a moment, leaning down for a brief kiss, but Logan wrapped her legs around her waist, drawing her close and keeping her there.

The fond smile she got for it was as much a reward as whatever would come next. “Hi,” Remus said. “I was headed a little farther south.”

Logan hummed, tucking a strand of tawny, silver-flecked hair behind Remus’ ear with her left hand, then reaching up with her right one to trace the seam of Remus’ lips with wet fingertips. Logan swore she saw the heat she felt as Remus drew them into her mouth reflected back at her in Remus’ eyes.

Logan pushed up on her elbows to kiss her as soon as she was done, sloppy with the sheer force of her need. Remus pulled back and Logan didn’t even have time to complain; in a flash, that clever mouth was sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin just below her breast. Logan knew from the sharp ache of it that she’d picked a spot that had already been marked. That somehow made it hotter.

Between her wives and Remus and Sirius, Logan was never left wanting. Today was no exception. The firmness of Remus’ grip was just right as she pushed Logan’s thighs apart; the first press of her tongue against Logan’s clit, divine. Logan let her head fall back onto the pillow and smiled deliriously at the ceiling. It was like she could still feel the sting of Remus’ teeth on her love-bitten body. You’re already covered, greedy thing. Logan was greedy. She liked to take everything they had for her until they were well and truly sated; she liked to give herself over to them and let them draw every ounce of her pleasure from her like nectar.

Between her legs, Remus groaned against her like she was the only breakfast she’d ever need, and Logan fucking loved that.

She knew better than to expect it all at once; Remus was never the kind to give it up easy, never once passed up the opportunity to overwhelm Logan with honey-sweet arousal before letting her break open. But Remus was still hungry for it, ravenous, moaning softly as she buried her face in Logan's pussy and dug her hands into her thighs. Logan didn't bother closing her mouth. The house was empty, and her breathing certainly wasn't going to calm anytime soon. Better to sink into it now than waste time trying to stifle herself. She'd done enough of that on Thursday, when she rode Leo's strap until two hands clasped over her mouth were all that kept the kids asleep.

Remus' tongue curled and a whine broke in her throat—a thumbpad traced over her hole and Logan's whole body juddered. Slow mornings like this made her sensitive and needy. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she panted in a tumble of breath. "Gogogo."

"Thought Leo wore you out," Remus mumbled against her.

"She—huh—" A harsh suck made Logan's knee jerk up into the immovable bend of Remus' arm. "She did."

Remus laved a long, broad stripe up her folds that Logan felt all the way in her toes. She flexed her hands on the sheets at the build of it all, only barely managing to raise her head when Remus rested her chin in the crease of her hip. "That's okay," she said, licking some shine off the corner of her mouth. "I'll be gentle."

Something that was half-groan, half-laugh left Logan in a rush, and she flung an arm over her eyes as she flopped back down onto the pillow.

“Diable,” Logan accused. A fingertip was still circling her hole in teasing strokes. Logan sort of wanted to beg for it.

Her eyes were still closed when Remus pressed a sloppy kiss over her tattoo; her smile felt dopey even to herself. “Oui,” Remus replied brightly, then gave her two fingers in one smooth slide.

Logan sighed, long and pleased enough to make her lungs throb the same as where Remus licked over her in teasing, tasting strokes. Her fingers crooked gently, then relaxed; gave a shallow thrust, then rested inside her with only the lightest flex.

“Cap told me you’ve been stressed.”

“Gossips,” Remus said into the crease of her thigh.

“Ouais.” Her hair spun like silk through Logan’s fingertips. “That’s what you get for letting us go on tea dates.”

“Hmm.”

“ ‘S like you and—ah—Harzy at the bookstores.”

Logan groaned at a perfect twist inside her and felt Remus smile. “You two are cute.”

“Of course we are.”

Logan lost herself in sensation for a few long, mind-melting moments as Remus replaced her fingers with her tongue, the short, shallow thrusts combining with a thumb against her clit to push her orgasm from steadily approaching to imminent.

“Was talking to you,” she managed, even as she pushed Remus against her harder with a hand at the back of her head.

Remus pulled off just enough to gasp a “later” before getting back to work. Her free hand was splayed over Logan’s lower belly, warm and protective; her tongue was merciless inside her.

“Merde,” Logan said tightly, whole body tensing under Remus. “Yeah, fuck me like that, fuck me like that, oh.”

Remus gave it to her just as she asked until the shakiness in her legs was one continuous tremor, then shifted so she could move her tongue quick and hard over her clit and bury her fingers deep inside her—three this time, curled just right and definitely less gentle than before. Logan’s shout bounced off the walls, filling the room.

All it took was a few more seconds and a wet, obscene groan against her before her mind went blank as she came hard around Remus' fingers and on her tongue; Remus worked her through it and brought her down easy, fingers stilling but not yet pulling out and kitten licks making her jerk with the last aftershocks.

A barely-there kiss in the sensitive spot where Remus's tongue had just been made her laugh (okay, it was more of a giggle). “Hottie. Thank you for that.”

Logan laughed some more. “Non, thank you.”

"Mmm." The smack of Remus' lips would have made her blush, if she wasn't already so warm. "Want another one?"

Logan rolled her head to the side for a better look and buried her nose in the pillowcase. They had started adding scents to their detergent recently; this week, it seemed, was for light citrus. "Depends," she said, stifling a yawn with a lengthy stretch. "Will you relax if I let you drown in pussy?"

"Literally always."

Hot breath rushed over her clit and inner thighs when she tugged on Remus' hair. "Then get after it, Loops."

The first broad licks made her head go quiet, and filled it with TV static when Remus' tongue tapered to a twitching, teasing point just next to where she needed it. Her fingers gave the occasional there-and-gone pressure that made Logan feel all too desperate. The edge crept up on her, faster than the first. She could already tell it would be harder too, as her hips pushed down to meet Remus' incessant mouth and her fingers ached to pull the sheets around them.

“Re,” Logan said urgently. “Re, merde, kiss me, I’m gonna—”

Remus was on top of her in a second, one arm wedged between them so she could keep touching her, and Logan clenched her hands in Remus' hair instead of the bedding as she pulled her down for a sloppy, breathless kiss.

The angle was awkward, but Remus was well-practiced. Well-versed in Logan, too; enough to know just what to say as she curled a pair of fingers inside her while her thumb moved in slippery but precise circles.

“Allez, Tremzy, you need to come again already? You need to come on my fingers? There you go, there you go.”

"I'm c—I'm coming—I'm—" Logan's vision sparked when it hit. She moaned into Remus' mouth, thighs tight around her waist and trembling, throbbing from her hips to her knees. A brush of Remus' thumb made her jerk with sweet overstimulation. It was the kind Leo liked to dangle in front of her until she was panting and needy, and the kind Finn served up with utmost enthusiasm whenever possible.

But Remus seemed more ready to respect the sanctity of a cozy morning fuck, as she waited for Logan to stop thrashing before slipping her fingers out and and popping them in her mouth. She didn't go far—Logan had barely blinked one eye open before Remus' chin was poking the center of her chest, soft amber eyes gazing at her. "That looked fun."

Logan grinned, still a little sideways. "Your hands should be insured."

"Oh?"

"A million dollars. They're too precious."

Remus' nose crinkled with a smile as she kissed the valley between Logan's breasts. "Only the best for my girls."

Logan coaxed her back up for a much less urgent kiss this time, lazy in her afterglow and wanting to savor every last bit of Remus. She hummed as she let Remus shift them onto their sides and tangle their legs together. Unhurried makeouts in broad daylight were a rarity these days; a few indulgent, loud-as-you-like orgasms before lunch, a damn near miracle. Logan didn’t feel the need to rush a single thing—although she did want to return the favor. Badly.

When they finally parted, she traced a fingertip down the slope of Remus' nose. “Vous êtes si mignon.”

Remus kissed her cheek with a happy sigh. She seemed content just to lie there and make out as the patter of rain on the windowsill lulled them into a cuddle puddle, but…

Logan kissed her once more, gently, then took her plush bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled a little less gently before letting go and watching it spring back into place. Her hand trailed up Remus' inner thigh until she found her target. They both gasped as she dragged her fingers up, up, up with the barest pressure.

They came away glistening. “So wet,” Logan whispered. Remus' hips twitched forward, seeking friction. “Tell me what you want, honey.”

"Oh, I always want things from you," Remus sighed. Her leg slid up to hook around Logan's waist and turned them lazily on their sides; she gave a light shiver when Logan stroked a knuckle over her folds.

Logan pushed her grin into Remus' collarbone. "Greedy."

"From you, okay," Remus scoffed.

"If you wanna keep kissing me..." She left a chaste peck at the tip of Remus' nose, then the dip of her upper lip. "All you have to do is ask."

Remus blinked at her, half-lidded and slow. Her amber eyes had dulled to near-caramel in the drowsy light filtering through the blinds. "And if I want your hands?"

"Then they're yours," Logan whispered into her mouth. Soft muscle gave beneath a squeeze of Remus' inner thigh. Softer hair slid against Logan's palm as she stroked the length of it, all too familiar with the dark blond fuzz that thickened a coarse trail below Remus' bellybutton. Leo's was lighter; Finn hardly had any. She loved her catalog of their bodies, pressed into her mind with time and practice. They used to be so young and stupid and horny. She loved them then, too.

“Can you…” Remus trailed off, licking her already-wet lips. 

Logan kissed the corner of her jaw. “Ouais. What?”

She felt a hand close around her wrist and thought Remus was going to guide her where she most needed the pressure; she quirked an eyebrow as she was guided to hold Remus' waist instead. 

“You know,” Remus said, red cheek hot under Logan’s lips. “The way you…”

Oh. Yes. Logan’s grin felt wild even to herself as she tightened her grip on Remus and rolled onto her back, hauling Remus easily into her lap.

“Like that, baby?” she murmured, reveling in the look on Remus' face, the way her delicate eyelashes fluttered as Logan pressed one palm flat against the small of her back and the other between her legs, urging her to move.

Remus bit her lip, the point of a canine catching on it adorably, as she started up a slow grind against the heel of Logan's hand. Heat pulsed through Logan as she realized she was going to be soaked from her fingertips to her wrist.

She let Remus go for a few indulgent moments before sliding her other hand up Remus' back to cradle the back of her head. She held her close against her as she sat up, then pushed her down onto the bed and crawled on top of her, using her legs to push Remus' knees farther apart as she went.

Remus' eyes were dark as the rainclouds outside and wide as saucers as Logan laid her wet palm over her throat—just a suggestion of pressure. “That’s what you want?” Logan asked, though she had a feeling she’d gotten it right. “Said you want my hands. Didn’t just mean on your pussy, non? All over? The way you like, the way you showed me?"

So many nights drenched in pleasure, drenched in Remus, learning every part of her. If those college years had taught her anything, it was how to study. It was safe to say Remus had been a special subject of hers for quite a while.

Each of Remus' breaths pulsed against her palm in a risefallflex Logan knew like her own. "God, please," Remus whispered. "Take it."

Her first moan buzzed up to Logan's elbow. Every one after that filled her up to overflowing.

Remus' legs pushed in on her and kept her in a close, crushing hold as her lower belly jumped at the quick pumps of Logan's fingers inside her. Only two, only sensation—Logan wasn't here to stretch her. They both loved to be held and held and handled by the strong, beautiful women they loved. The clock had barely scratched eleven in the morning but this day would be excellent no matter what as long as she made Remus come all over them both. 

And Remus, for her part, was batting a thousand. Her lower belly jumped and clenched to the rhythm of her walls around Logan's knuckles. Her thighs bent, buckled, edged on bruising. Logan bent to kiss the arch of her neck, just above the curve of her hand, and felt Remus thrash with it. "Go, go, go, go," Remus groaned on a plea. "God—shit—don't stop, don't make me stop."

"I won't," Logan murmured into the space beneath her ear. She readjusted her slick thumb to slide over Remus' folds; Remus' cry of pleasure drifted into a wandering whine when she sank her teeth into Logan's shoulder. Magic hands pulled and squeezed at her back. Remus made no move to escape the tender hold on her throat.

"Je t'aime," Logan said, shivering as Remus kissed over where she'd bitten. "J'aime te toucher, j'aime la façon dont ton corps se sent sous mes mains." She pressed deep inside her as she said it to emphasize her point. The nuzzle of her nose against Remus' cheek sat at delicious odds with the pulse of tightened pressure on her neck.

Being surrounded by French speakers her entire adult life plus years of being married to one meant it was tough to trip Remus up with any murmured platitude in bed; Logan's chest swelled with pride as she watched Remus' brow knit while she worked it out, body arching into Logan's hold.

"Good job," she said, flexing the hand at Remus' throat again to feel her shudder and clench around her. "Just feel. Just feel me."

“I ca—hnn.”

Logan stroked over the place Remus’ voice broke, each hairline crack in her composure a gift she did not take for granted. Hips rocked down to meet her hand; Remus’ eyes fell half-shut. Logan was utterly entranced by her.

“Feel—“ Remus began, then broke off for a few harsh breaths. “Feel good, feels good, take me, take me.”

Logan kissed her temple and felt a pulse of wet warmth over her knuckles. “Have you.”

“I’m so...” A wheeze siphoned through her clenched teeth and Remus’ brows pitched. Her hips quickened, as did her pulse against Logan’s fingertips—her thighs squeezed for leverage as she arched, caught between the feeling of lift and the urge to sink into it all. Logan knew that feeling intimately.

“Give it to me.”

“Huh?”

“Give it to me,” she repeated. Remus was riding her hand harder, now, but Logan forced herself to keep steady. “I’ll handle it, mon lune. Let me do this for you, ouais?”

She caught a glimpse of a shine in Remus’ eyes before they were scrunched shut. Her back arched again, her head tossed on the pillow, her breaths came hard like she was sprinting for the goal—Logan pressed her thumb to soft flesh and Remus gave a shout that made her grateful the aquarium was several miles away.

“Allez,” Logan ordered, pushing steel into her voice. “Show me. I can feel how close you are.”

Her hips rocked downward two, three, four more times before she came hard with a stuttered gasp that may as well have been a scream. Sudden pressure prompted Logan to pull her fingers out; the rush of wetness onto the sheets felt like a playoff win used to. 

“Yes,” Logan urged. Remus was shaking apart with the force of it, but Logan used her weight to keep her tucked close and safe underneath her. “Yes, yes, yes, good girl.”

A palm gently pressed over where she was still pulsing made Remus sob like she was being pounded through the bed. “Lo—Logan!”

She let go of Remus’s throat and guided her into a kiss by her jaw, drinking in the raw, sweet sounds she made as the erratic grinds against her hand slowed, then stopped.

For all her strength and power, Remus felt like a ragdoll in Logan’s arms as she arranged them into a cuddle. The instant Remus was curled up against her, she pushed her face into the crook of her neck—maybe hiding for a minute. Logan let her. She understood that, too.

She felt the hammer of Remus’s heart soften, felt her breathing slow, and swept her hair off her sweat-damp skin to keep it from sticking to her uncomfortably.

“Loops?” she tried.

A whine, then lips on her collarbone. “No.”

“No?”

“Not done yet.”

Logan glanced down the bed at the significant wet patch Remus had left behind. She was still shaking a little. “Honey, I think you are.”

“No.” Remus rubbed her forehead against Logan’s chest in something that was half a nuzzle, half a head shake. “Gimme…” she shifted so she could press her knee where Logan was, honestly, a little needy again after witnessing that performance. “Lemme—my mouth.”

Logan kissed the side of her head and let her lips linger there. Each of Remus' heavy breaths plastered their chests together in the slick heat. "You're sure?"

"Mhmm."

"Catch your breath first, cherie."

A disgruntled groan made Logan laugh. "I thought you said you'd let me drown in pussy," Remus complained, pulling her face from her hideaway with a little wiggle that rubbed her thigh between Logan's legs. She was flushed and sweaty—gorgeously so. Where's the goal song for this? Logan thought, a tad absurdly. Blunt fingernails scratched down the base of her spine. "Can I at least suck on your tits until then? Please?"

"Hmm." Logan narrowed her eyes in faux contemplation. "You drive a hard bargain, Lupin."

"Knutty told me you made her come just from that. Maybe I want to take a crack at it."

"Gossips, all of you."

"You love it when I use my mouth."

Logan cradled the back of her head lovingly, guiding her down until said mouth bumped up against her nipple. “I do.” Teeth grazed sensitive flesh, raising goosebumps on Logan’s skin. “Knutty didn’t come just from that, but if you want to practice…”

A few perfect minutes were spent with her hands stroking Remus’ hair as each breast was thoroughly loved on. Logan didn’t think she could finish from that alone, but wild horses couldn’t drag her away from the wicked cleverness and earnest worship of Remus Lupin’s mouth. Every press, pull, suck and nibble sent pleasure zinging down to her core.

“Pretty mouth,” Logan murmured, back arching of its own accord as Remus’s tongue swirled around a dusky-pink areola the same way it would between her legs.

Remus hummed, pleased, and kissed her way up her sternum. Her eyes flashed as Logan pulled her the rest of the way up by her hair and kissed her good and filthy. 

“Don’t lose your breath again,” Logan said as they parted. “Gonna ride your face, ouais?”

"Ouais," Remus sighed, nearly accent-less from years of practice. She laid back with a pleased little smirk that made Logan all kinds of warm; confidence, however quiet, had always turned her on. She petted down the length of Logan's legs and gave one asscheek a playful smack, a sweet I love you sting that Logan heard loud and clear. When Logan rose up on her knees and moved forward, she felt the gust of Remus' quickening breath just where she needed her.

"Ready?"

Remus' pink tongue wetted her lip. "You better sit, Tremblay."

"Make it worth my while," Logan challenged. A shark-toothed grin dragged along her inner thigh and left a lilac nibble at the apex. Knowing Remus, a gift for Finn and Leo to find later.

But there was nothing sharp about her when Logan knelt up the rest of the way and lowered herself—no, it was all slick softness, peppered kisses and languid lapping to make her stomach twirl and flip. Remus' tongue darted up to her clit for a cheeky swirl that made Logan curse and grab for the headboard. Fuck, she really couldn't take slow this morning.

“Hnnn, mhm.” Her hips gave an experimental rock; immediately, two hands grabbed her ass and pulled her forward, urging her on.

Something like relief washed over Logan as Remus let her build the pace herself (quick, steady, hat trick in her horizon). She could feel the damp ends of her curls brushing her shoulders as she moved and hoped Remus wasn’t too overheated beneath her—she wasn’t sure Remus would give a shit even if she was. 

Another sharp spank made her hips stutter; Remus gripped her suddenly and held her still as she took back the reins.

For the thousandth time that morning, Logan was thankful for the emptiness of the house as she tipped her head back and moaned at the ceiling. She could feel the first sparks of her orgasm in her gut and gripped the headboard with white knuckles, helpless under the onslaught of Remus eating her pussy like it was her life’s mission.

“Gonna,” she managed to warn her. “Remus, Remus, gonna, I can’t!”

"You fucking better," Remus snarled against her, messy lips and tongue and blazing golden eyes and—

The headboard hit the wall with a SLAM. Logan's elbows shook with the force of catching herself, her legs wavered, her whole body seemed to quake right out from under her and onto Remus' mouth as she came hard enough to make her abs ache. Each breath and noise caught in her arched throat. The low light blurred and flickered. Her chest expanded and imploded all at once; she wanted to break, she wanted to fold, she wanted to fly.

She came down slow and shivery. Remus' tongue pulsed against her in a flat pass. Hardly any stimulation, but merde was it just what she was craving. Her weight stuttered back on her heels and she brought one throbbing hand down to comb through the front of Remus' hair, thick bangs still kinked from Thursday's tight boxer braids.

Remus blinked slowly up at her. She was shiny from nose to chin. Logan ran her finger through it and brought it to her lips. "Do you feel better?"

Happiness and relief flooded Remus' face. "So much. Merci beaucoup, mon beau."

Logan's heart gave a pleased flutter.

She stretched out on top of Remus and kissed her long and slow and sweet—no destination in mind, nowhere else to be. Kissing her just to kiss her, just to breathe in her Remus-scent and taste them both on her tongue.

“Can I do anything else for you?” she asked, petting a hand up and down Remus’ folds gently. Remus usually didn’t want more after a squirting orgasm, but there’d never come a day where Logan didn’t offer.

Her thumb brushed over Remus’ clit; Remus gasped and closed her hand around Logan’s wrist to still her.

“Nonono,” she said, smiling. “I am very, very good.” Her smile turned sly as she added, “You?”

“Non,” Logan snorted. “You’ve worn me out.”

“Really?”

“Hm, for now.” Logan left a smattering of quick kisses across her face, then gave Remus a butt tap. “Allez.”

They stumbled to the bathroom on shaky legs, playfully jostling each other for first-pee dibs. A shower was too much effort; a few damp washcloths later and they were clean enough to throw underwear on and burrow under the blankets again.

Remus pulled her over for a snuggle that Logan didn’t protest in the slightest; she pillowed her head on Remus’ shoulder and threw an arm across her, sighing happily. She felt good—sensitive, wrung out, maybe a little sore later, but head-to-toe good in the way that only sex and hockey seemed to provide. Remus was similarly lax and loose-limbed under her; Logan studied her profile for a few moments and was pleased to see that she was still smiling.

She slipped a hand under Remus’ shirt and laid it over her warm belly. “Remember how we’d all fight over who got to rub the cocoa butter on you when you were pregnant with JuJu?” She traced circles over Remus’ skin just like she did then.

“I was so sick, but I loved that part,” Remus laughed, stretching her arms as far out as they could go. She let them fall into the mattress with a dull sound and stayed splayed over Logan, so close each breath could be shared. She shook her head. “God, that was forever ago.”

Oui, it was. No, baby, not at all. What do you mean? That pregnancy glow is still all over you. If you want, I’ll put another baby in you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

A beautiful, naked woman in her bed, three orgasms for warmup, and all the time in the world, and Logan was asking if she wanted to talk. Fucking eh, her twenty-something-year-old self would be screaming bloody murder.

Remus didn’t…frown, exactly. But she didn’t smile, either. Logan waited patiently with thick honey hair spun between her fingers. “I dunno. It’s—she’s starting kindergarten.”

Logan knew this. She nodded sympathetically anyway.

“I don’t…” Remus took her swollen lower lip between her teeth and worried at it. The tiny crease between her brows deepened. “I don’t know what to feel. I don’t—I don’t want to think about it.”

“But do you want to talk?” Logan asked gently.

“I want to—” Remus’ fingers fluttered as though a keyboard was still under them. “I want to plan the perfect family vacation. I want everyone to be happy, and together.”

“We are happy,” Logan said, kissing Remus’ temple. “We are together. Not right this second, but you know.”

Remus nodded, but she still wasn’t smiling. “No, yeah, I know.”

Years spent struggling to transmute the things she felt most deeply into words meant Logan knew how to wait and how to listen. She’d been on the receiving end of that grace countless times from the people she loved most, including Remus.

She kept tracing nonsense patterns on Remus’s stomach. She waited. She listened.

“I guess I just…I mean, how did you feel when Lena started kindergarten and she and Sammy were out of the house?” Remus’ eyes went suddenly wide. “Oh god, did I not ask you about that at the time?”

“Um…” Now that she mentioned it, Logan wasn’t sure. She remembered sobbing her eyes out when each of the babies lost their newborn scrunch, and getting teary when they moved up to big-kid beds (Sammy got Leo’s legs starting at age four, much to their chagrin), and the internal crisis of seeing a whole small person when she looked at them instead of a smushy lump of love. In a way, kindergarten had been part of all those things.

“I didn’t.” Remus’ mouth turned down in a pout. “Oh, god, Tremzy—”

“No, no,” Logan hushed, pressing her fingers over Remus’ mouth. “No, I was just trying to remember how I felt then. It didn’t really stand out as an event, I don’t think. I was more excited to pick out their backpacks than anything.”

Remus’ eyes darted away.

“But I was still bummed,” Logan added. She folded one of Remus’ hands between her own and squeezed. “And it was still hard. Leo was so upset for the first weeks, not having them home during the day. That was the hard part, for me. But guess what?”

It took a moment, but Remus managed to look up at her. “Hmm?”

“You’ve got the captain with you.” Logan kissed her first knuckle, right over a silver scar from a well-thrown punch a lifetime ago. “She won’t let anything happen.”

The look that passed over Remus’ face made Logan’s chest ache: love and relief at the truth of Logan’s words, and the sadness that had been welling up in her for who knew how long and was finally starting to trickle out.

“Yeah.” Remus’ voice cracked. She ran a hand down her face. Her chin wobbled as she looked plaintively at Logan. “Tremz?”

“Ouais?”

“I’m…”

“I know.” Logan pulled her into a hug, curling her body around her protectively, and felt her grip two handfuls of her shirt. “I know, it’s okay.”

Witnessing Remus cry would never not shatter Logan’s heart into a million tiny pieces, but she knew better than most that sometimes things percolated, and spiraled, and built, and when they finally came out, they didn’t come out pretty. (Remus was still pretty, hitching sobs and runny nose and all.)

“I’ve got you,” Logan murmured. She might not be the right Quebecois hockey lesbian, but dammit she could try.

“She’s so—so big,” Remus sniffled. “When did she get so big? That’s not fair.”

“It’s not.”

“I wanna pick her up and cuddle her again.”

Logan smoothed her palm over Remus’ quivering upper back. “You can still do that. I promise.”

A sob broke over Logan’s collarbone. “But she’s my baby.”

“Loops…” Heartbreak was an old and unwelcome friend. Logan squeezed her tight and bundled the sheets into a little den over them, darkening the room. “Re, she’s always going to be your baby. Even when she’s big and strong like you and Cap. And she’s going to do such good things.”

A sniffle, a watery “mhm,” and then Remus lifted her head to look at her with red-rimmed eyes. She looked wrecked, yes, broken open, but also—lighter. Logan wondered when the thought of Juliette starting school full-time first became a weight on Remus’ shoulders. She was glad she was able to help lift that burden if only a little.

“She’s gonna do great,” Remus said, only a slight waver in her voice now. 

Logan gave her shoulders a squeeze. “She’s gonna do amazing.”

“That school isn’t gonna know what hit ‘em.” 

Remus’ watery smile made Logan smile, too. “Hell no. She’ll be running the place in two weeks flat.”

They stayed like that for a little while longer, both reluctant to leave their self-made sanctuary. Logan got an idea just as Remus’ body finally went lax against hers.

“Next week after dropoff, you and Sirius should come over. We can wallow, or celebrate, or just hang out. Whatever you feel like.”

Remus gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment. "I'll make a casserole."

"Non, you're going to relax."

"Well, I'm going to want to bury my sorrows in tater tots, so..."

Logan laughed, and felt her smile against her bare shoulder. "I'm pretty sure the rest of us can handle some tater tots. Knutty will do your hair. She got some of those new foam rollers you two were talking about, but shhh, it's a secret."

She didn't think Leo would mind a spoiled secret too much—not when it made Remus giggle, and turn, and stretch her strong arms out with a roll of her wrists. "Hmm. Guess I'll have to let her surprise me, then.”

"Ouais."

"Thank you, Lo."

Of all things, Logan wasn't quite prepared for the sincerity in her voice, nor the sugar-soft tenderness in her eyes. Remus' ability to look right into someone's soul would have spooked Logan from the start if she was anyone else in the whole world. Being seen, a light shining under her thick shell, had been Logan's greatest fear for such a long, long time. But it never burned with Remus. Remus saw and did not flinch. A bland 'you're welcome' or nonchalant 'no problem' just wouldn't cut it.

“Anything,” Logan said. “Any time.”

#sweater weather lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove #vaincre lumosinlove #o'knutzy #coops #genderbent #my fic #ficoween 2023

[kissatoru]

for the FINAL time: indicate your AGE on your blog PLEASE

i know i’ve said this so many times that it feels obnoxious at this point, and trust me, i’m as tired of saying it as (those of) you (who this doesn’t apply to) are of hearing it, but i need to reiterate it one last time. honestly, this is more of a rant than anything, but these thoughts have been on my mind for a while and i’ll just be glad to get them out. maybe this is making a big deal out of something quite small, but it wouldn’t have to be if people would actually listen/care.

i want to start off by saying if you’re someone who doesn’t have an age or an indicator of it on your blog, and the title of this post annoys you, you can go ahead and unfollow me right now.

or don’t, because i’m going to block you sooner or later anyway. which i realise sounds harsh, but apparently being polite about it isn’t getting me, or any of the other 18+ only blogs on here who are constantly repeating themselves, anywhere so i don’t care about being polite anymore.

the cheap price of literally nothing but having some numbers in your bio is still too high for some of you to ‘pay’ to read mine and others’ work. like we’re writing stuff you can read for FREE and all that us nsfw writers ask is that you have an age on your blog — yet some people still refuse to do that much. it’s not only disappointing, but also straight up disrespectful. there’s blogs who’ve been following me for WEEKS who still don’t have an age indicator, despite me posting about it regularly and despite it being clearly stated on my pinned post.

believe it or not, i don’t want to block you. some of you are always in my notifications, interacting with my posts, and especially when you reblog mine/my moots’ works, i recognise you, and seeing you makes me really happy! but when i check your blog and see that you don’t have an age on it, that’s telling me you’re seeing my reminders but you just don’t fucking care.

it’s all well and good interacting with me and my posts, but if you can’t even respect the simplest of boundaries, i don’t care whether you’re actually a minor or not. you are obviously too lazy or don’t care about me as an actual person as much as you care about the content you get to see on your timeline.

maybe you have your reasons, like maybe:

you’re not comfortable sharing your specific age. that’s totally fine! you can tell me in my dms if you’d like to. if not, anything from the year (e.g. 02’ liner) or the decade (e.g. 90s baby) you were born to an appropriate age range (e.g. 19-23) etc. will suffice. if you’re unwilling to do at least that, then i’m sorry but my blog is not for you.

you’re new to tumblr and don’t know where, or how to set up your blog. in that case, you google it. yahoo it. bing it. i don’t care. use the internet you clearly have access to and find out. there’s plenty of tutorials, you just have to look for them. or ask a friend or a mutual. you can dm me your age just so i’m aware until you figure it out.

you don’t have time. in that case, i don’t fucking believe you lol. if you have the time to read a whole fic, you have the time to punch in a two digit number into someplace on your blog — or to find out how, and then do so.

some of you don’t have an excuse though. some of you will list literally everything about yourself but your age on your blog?? you clearly know how to use tumblr, you clearly know where to put info about yourself, you clearly have time so... maybe you clearly just do not care enough to do the bare minimum of reading my byf or my pinned post.

also, it genuinely does not matter, nor do i care, where you actually put your age. whether it’s in your bio, your title or a pinned post, as long as it’s there, in some place i can access, it doesn’t matter.

i think i’ve talked about everything i wanted to, so to end this post on a more positive note, i want to thank the people who actually listen. i, nor anyone else, should be having to thank people for doing the bare minimum, but, at least in my experience, when you’re having to block 9 out of 10 blogs that follow you on a regular basis, you can get pretty used to the constant disappointment, and seeing that 1 blog who actually has an age on their blog can be pretty relieving lol so thank you<3

#( ★ ) psa.

[ask-hannah-blog]

Hey, i'm a clown by profession and only managed to keep getting work because I'm seen as an "safe clown" since I was doing it before the clown flu was a thing. Recently I got infected though, and now I get horny putting on my act (which is super awkward) and my pretty delicious feet are starting to grow to fit my clown shoes. I'm starting to get ...urges... in regards to my feet too. I'm worried this will affect my livelihood, so what do I do?

Well I don’t see how getting better, and better tricks will hurt your business! You finally get to stop pretending and be that pretty clown you’re soul has been burning to be. I’m soooooo happy for you!

But 🤔

What do you do if your business goes down the pooper?

You can always become a hobo clown!

Hehehe now hear me out!

I know hobo clowns are bottom of the totem pole, above only fappers, Gimmick knows I wouldn’t want to be one! 👸

I mean they’re smelly, dumb, submissive, lazy, completely uncoordinated, just the worst!

But I mean, you do you!

You’re probably asking this because you’re already noticing a hit to business aren’t you?

Doesn’t really make sense right? Sure kids parties are out but it’s well documented that adult clown entertainment has never been better, bachelor parties, heck let’s face it, bachelorette parties too, and I mean who doesn’t like a party clown at their orgy?

But for some reason you’re failing?

At a time when clowns are raking in the cash? I mean I know no one can compare to me, but I’ve got more clients than time, I’m telling new clients to just read my blog for an hour and to pay me for it.

Doesn’t it sound like a you problem?

The only clowns who can’t make it is this economy are lazy ol’ hobos.

Face it, you got an offer didn’t you? Branch out, let a perv film those growing feet, rake in the dough, but you didn’t want to make the drive, right? Lazy.

Or maybe you went to that Bachelor party. Maybe you really tried, but for the first time you noticed your stockings had runs going through them, and your toes were poking out of holes. Your high heels were mismatched, and one was held together with duct tape.

Hehe I bet you were feeling pretty sexy huh, confident to be branching out, hypnotized by the dollar signs on the check. So you hopped up on the groom and gave him a lap dance, didn’t you? Hehe how long did it take you to notice he was holding his nose? Hehe did you stop? Or were you so excited about that gig that you just kept going?

Is that why you’re so worried? Because they left bad reviews about you?

Well here’s my advice, drop your prices. Not by much, I mean you’re still mostly human? Just a little trashy. Just cut your prices 10%, get used to a lower income. As you get worse, your prices will naturally drop, until you’re doing pretty much anything for a shiny quarter.

Get it dummy?

Get into adult work, you can’t afford to be a snob, and do it for cheap. Charging full clown prices for a hobo clown just ain’t right!

Kk, love ya babe. And hey, spoil yourself while you can. Treat those growing feet right, and take ‘em to the salon, while a human still willing to touch them! 🤭

#transformation #mind control #ask blog #hypnosis #clowntf #clown girl #clown #feet

[pennywaltzy]

Moments In The Life Of One Daniel "Danny" Messer (1/10)

So here's my old fic for the day! It's a 100-drabble drabble collection that I divided into ten chapters of ten drabbles (I'll post a new chapter every day along with another fic until it's done). They're all little moments in Danny Messer's life.

Moments In The Life Of One Daniel "Danny" Messer - A series of drabbles depicting moments in Daniel "Danny" Messer's life.

Read Chapter 1

Title: First Conversation Prompt: #1 - Beginnings Characters: Danny Messer & Mac Taylor

"You the guy I'm supposed to talk to?"

"Depends on what you're here to talk about."

"Job at the crime lab."

"Then I'm the man. Mac Taylor."

"Detective Messer."

"You have a first name, Detective?"

"Daniel. Everyone calls me Danny, though."

"Messer..."

"Yeah, I'm related to the Messers with the family connections, if that's what you're thinking."

"So...why are you a cop?"

"Someone's got to take them down. Might as well be me, you know? I’m the black sheep of the family anyway."

"Why?"

"Because...because I actually believe in doing more than they do. I want more than they do."

---

Title: Hours To Go Prompt: #6 - Hours Characters: Danny Messer

He was trapped. Hours to go till he could get out, till the panic room opened up. Hours.

God, if he wasn't claustrophobic before, being trapped with a dead body overnight was more than enough to push him in that direction.

Hours. If he concentrated on the hours, kept looking at his watch, talked the hours away on his cell phone till the battery went dead, maybe he'd make it. Maybe he wouldn't lose his mind. Yeah, he just had to remember that every hour that passed was one less for him to be there. Then he’d be long gone.

---

Title: Bad Jokes Prompt: #11 - Red Characters: Danny Messer & Don Flack

The blood spilled across the floor, bright red on pristine white marble. Danny whistled. Lots of blood for one body. Probably meant the victim had either completely bled out before being moved or there was more than one victim...two of them, probably.

"How many vics you say there were?"

"Two," Flack answered. "One Margaret Walden and one Thomas Kettering."

He whistled again, pulled out a camera, snapped a shot of the red stuff. "Bet you they’re drained," he deadpanned, flashing a grin at Flack, who just rolled his eyes.

"Stop it with the bad jokes, Messer. You’re killing me here."

---

Title: Blue In My Eyes Prompt: #16 - Purple Characters: Danny Messer, Stella Bonasera & Lindsay Monroe

"Purple suits you."

He glanced down at his shirt. "You think?"

"Brings out the blue in your eyes." Stella shut her locker. "Remember I told you if you ever needed beauty tips..."

Danny grinned. "I still can't believe what waterproof mascara does to your lashes."

"Yeah, well...price we pay."

He watched her leave, then looked back at his shirt. His grin got bigger...he did look good. Not that anyone would notice his eyes, since they were behind glasses, but...

"You look nice, Danny."

He flashed a wide grin at Lindsay. "Apparently, the purple brings out the blue in my eyes."

---

Title: Have Been, Will Be Prompt: #21 - Friends Characters: Danny Messer & Aiden Burn

"Hey! Wait up!"

"Leave me alone."

"Hey, Aiden...look, I'd give up my job and leave for this, for what happened..."

"Someone's got to stay and look out for my case."

"You know I will. That's what friends do."

"So we're friends?"

"Have been, will be."

"So, as friends...feel like buying me a beer? Or three?"

"What, you're gonna try and out-drink me? Never."

"No, I'm going to try and forget about what just happened."

"Give me your keys and the tab's on me."

"My keys?"

"So I can make sure you get inside your apartment and not left outside. Keys?"

---

Title: Pick-Up Prompt: #26 - Teammates Rating: G Characters: Danny Messer & Don Flack

Danny looked at those guys at the pick-up basketball game. He didn't see Flack anywhere, and everyone else was getting impatient. "Fine. Cook."

"Swann."

"Parker."

"Brown."

Finally, he saw him. "When his lazy butt gets over here, Flack."

"Why do you always pick Flack for your team?" the other captain said.

"Because he's good. And I want the good guys on my team."

"Fine. Robb."

Flack bounded over. "On your team?"

Danny nodded. "Grogan," he called out.

"Friedman."

"Let's get ready and play," tossing the ball to Flack. "Ready?"

"Ready." Flack passed the ball back, and the game was on.

---

Title: New Day Prompt: #31 - Sunrise Characters: Danny Messer

He hadn't been up to see the sunrise in a while. It had been a long night, trying to piece the case back together for the D.A. He was just taking a break, looking out the windows as the sun rose. It was gorgeous...the light came up gradually, chasing away the shadows, and bringing the city back to life.

He took another sip of his coffee and watched the new day coming. His day wasn't busy, not yet, but taking a moment out to see the sight woke him up and energized him a little more than he had been.

---

Title: Shampoo Prompt: #36 - Smell Rating: G Characters: Pre-ship Danny Messer/Lindsay Monroe

He was standing behind her again, his head near hers, and the smell of her shampoo wafted up. God, she smelled good...she always smelled good. That was how he knew she was around, by how she smelled. But he'd been left to wonder what it was exactly that she smelled like.

"What kind of shampoo do you use, Montana?"

"Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Um...Garnier Fructis." She shrugged. "I think it smells nice."

"Yeah." Instead, he just inched a little closer to her and took another breath. Time for him to switch shampoos...

Messer, you got it real bad for her...

---

Title: Fuzzy Outlines Prompt: #41 - Shapes Rating: G Characters: Danny Messer

He could see without his glasses on. He just...after a while, all the shapes seemed to blur and become fuzzy. Sometimes blinking a few times took care of the problem, sometimes he had to find his glasses and put them back on.

Now, with his glasses on, his eyes were making things fuzzy and indistinct shapes. This wasn't a good sign.

He took his glasses off, shut his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was time for someone else to take over computer duties for a while because if this kept up, he was gonna be pissed.

---

Title: King Of The Dead Prompt: #46 - King Rating: G Characters: Danny Messer & Sheldon Hawkes

"Hey, Hawkes. Tell me what it's like to be king of your domain."

Hawkes looked at him. "I'd rather be out in the field."

"What, and have us lose the best coroner we've had? No way." He laughed a bit, then saw the look on Hawkes' face. "You're serious."

"Yeah."

Danny went across from him, one dead body between them. "And give all this up?"

"I want to help people. Before they end up here."

Danny nodded. "Then give the kingdom to someone else."

"You want the job?"

"Me? Be king of the dead? You’ve inhaled too many chemicals, Doc."

#csi new york #csi ny #csi: ny #danny messer #fanfic #fanfiction #danny x lindsay #mac taylor #don flack #aiden burn #stella bonasera #lindsay monroe #sheldon hawkes