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#cat girl!reader
neasoxi · 3 months
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Books and cats.
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m-ayo-o · 3 months
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Curiosity got kitty laid 🐱
satoru is rly sweet to his inexperienced kitty girl who doesn't really understand anatomy or sex :s nsfw! "kitten" + so many pet names, virgin reader (hybrid girl), hands + oral + sex (tummy bulge)
Thinking of the most inexperienced and sweet darling kitty girl who's just pawing at Satoru's lap for some attention.
He sits there with his legs spread so wide, you can't help but kneel between them and touch him where you're not allowed. He tried to resist you for so long but now you're doing this he's starting to get distracted from the TV and his crystal gaze keeps dipping down to your fingers... your hands.
"Baby- wait, you know what will happen if you touch your owner there?"
You shake your head, still massaging his crotch gently.
You know what yours feels like. You have a little tiny button you can press that makes you feel nice and a cute hole that gets all wet and gooey.
But that's not what his is like.
You sometimes see him bulging there, between his legs, especially if he wears tight pants or you catch him in his boxers. You want to know what it is. So what better way than to find out through touch?
"It's gonna get bigger, baby..." he strokes your ears gently with a concerned look in his eyes, "you better be careful, you might see a side of your owner you don't like, sweetheart."
He warns you but you are just too curious.
The soft and squishy swell in his shorts is... changing. You press your face closer to feel it on your cheek, nuzzling up and down. Your owner is letting out little soft hums now. He sounds nice, so you keep going. And the thing between his legs is growing, just like he said. And your hands start stroking him more because he seems to really like that, following the cues of his body until your hands are almost wrapped around him through his shorts.
You pull on it.
"Ngh-"
He makes such a sexy noise.
"Baby, I'm gonna get too hard in a minute, are you just messing around or do you really want this?"
He looks down at his body, where you're holding him.
"..wan' it..."
You murmur and tug on the waistband, pulling it down to see what it looks like. If he feels good when you touch him here, why wouldn't you continue?
It's pretty and pale like the rest of his skin, but it has a round head at the top that's quite red and blushed. There are big blue veins swelling along it and when your tiny hand circles around him you can feel a pulse. It throbs in your hand. You can barely cover him with one hand, so you use two. And he gives you a pleased smile, like you're doing the right thing.
You stare for a moment. You're not sure what you're supposed to do with it. It's so big and long. Where is it supposed to go?
"Owner- what is it?"
You understand it's him. It's part of his body. But like he said, it's making him act different. He has a blush on his cheeks and his breathing has got a bit shaky.
"It's my cock, sweetheart. It's for..." he searches for a word you might understand, "mating."
Now that word, you have heard before. Mating. It feels more like an instinct than a word. You're not sure what it entails but now you know it involves this big thing between his legs. Curious to find out more, you start moving your hands, up and down, up and down. His hips move in tandem and he lets out some noises you've never heard before.
He's gasping, then sighing with little moans caught in his throat. He bites his lip and you watch his expression shift. He kind of looks in pain so you stop your movements abruptly.
"No- no, don't stop."
His voice is deep and breathy.
He shakes his head and bucks his hips. You regain your grip on him and guide your hands over him again, following the beating pulse of his cock.
More noises spill from his puffy pink lips and you realise now that all the sights and sounds of him are waking a certain feeling in you. Your thighs press together and you can feel the slick there, as if you'd been touching yourself for hours. Which you have done, to the thought of him. But now he's here like this, would it be ok to touch yourself? To feel pleasure with him?
You slide one hand off his cock and down between your legs to find the little bud there. Slipping down your skirt, under your cute panties.
The lack of attention on his base causes his eyelashes to flutter in your direction.
"Oh kitten, you wanna feel good with me?"
He has a smile on his lips and in his eyes. You know it's ok.
You nod shyly and keep circling yourself and pulling at his cock. Through your hazy lust you notice a little bead of liquid on top of the red round tip. When you look closer you see it leaks out of a tiny hole and you watch it drip down the silky smooth skin. He gets so wet until the entire flushed tip is shiny.
And you wonder what you're supposed to do with all that wet stuff? Can you... lick it? Would he mind if you tasted it?
Curious thoughts draw your lips closer. It's intimidating. You look up at him and he doesn't stop you from sticking your tongue out and connecting it to the wet tip. You smooth your tongue around him while keeping up the rhythm with your hand and he moans. It's deep and loud and brings a new pool between your legs.
"Yeah-"
He gulps for air again. He looks so hot, like he's running a marathon.
"Yeah, kitten, use your mouth-"
He's not asking you. He's barely even telling you.
His voice is so filled with need and want that you obey, engulfing the entire swollen head with your lips. The tip of your tongue presses at that little leaky hole and a higher pitched sound comes from him. You circle your wet muscle around him and your saliva drips down this long and hard part of his body.
"Wow- y-you're a fucking angel, baby, can't believe you're doing this to me-"
He lets you suckle on his tip and use your hands to pleasure him and yourself for a little while longer then he wants to show you something else.
"Look, come here," his arms wrap around your body and he pulls you up on his lap.
"Wanna know what this thing is really for?"
You nod and look at his pretty face in a daze.
"Yes owner!"
Your eagerness makes him laugh. He's afraid you won't be so perky when he shows you what it's like.
"This," he tugs at his cock and lines your hips up with his body, "is going in here."
He rubs the soaked entrance of your hole with his fingers, dipping them in a little. He strokes up your tummy and imagines how full his little kitty will be.
You shake your head slowly in disbelief.
But he returns a mischievous smile and nods, slowly smearing his wetness all over yours.
Is that what it was for? To make sure he can go inside?
He pulls your body down and your hole resists momentarily before he coos in your ear-
"Relax, baby, open up for me."
His cock stands upright and sinks into you as you come down, slowly, your lips finally meeting the white hairs of his base.
You feel different.
Your head feels confused and your body feels like it's been rearranged. To fit him. He's pushed everything out of the way and made room for his cock. You look down and see the fat swell in your belly. You're too struck and shaken to do anything but stare.
He giggles, enjoying your expression, and starts lifting you up again.
"Wait wait wait-!!! We, we move--?? Like this??"
It felt wild enough just sitting on him, taking all that inside you?
"That's enough, that's enough!!!!"
But no.
"No, oh no, honey~"
He hums and slides you up and down. Your mouth hangs open and you've never felt so wet before. He feels so achy and hard in there like he's going to split you open. But he's giving you the highest form of pleasure you've ever received, all while fulfilling some kind of deep rooted instinct. A hot desire in the core of your body that you weren't really aware of until now. It's inside you and he's touching you in all the right places to ignite this feeling and make it spread from your centre right to the tips of your fingers and toes.
You feel like you've left reality behind, but you can grasp that you're being lifted up and down. He's doing it gently and looking at you with affection in his eyes. His face looks soft and needy and you just have to grab onto his shoulders and smother him in kisses, which he seems to love.
He smiles and laughs into you.
"Baby, you like it now, hm?"
He coos and strokes you softly, guiding you over his body.
"Yeah~"
You manage to find enough breath to reply and you sink into his body. He holds you and pulls you up and down, his hips starting to move under you. They bounce you to start with, slowly, smoothly, then they start bucking with more force until you're grappling onto his shoulders and nearly being thrown in the air.
Your breath is knocked out of you on each thrust. You're panting over his mouth and he only lets you rest for a second so he can rip your shirt off to see your tits bounce. You have no idea what to do with the rest of your body but keep your legs open to take everything he needs to give you. The rest falls slack- your tail and ears twitch intermittently and you can feel the muscles in your hole spasming around him.
"Baby, well done," he keeps telling you. He knows he's huge. He knows you weren't necessarily ready. But he warned you... and if you're going to touch him like that you've got to be prepared for this.
You can only whimper and hiccup in reply and he starts kissing you and sucking on your lips madly, plunging his tongue inside you while his dazzling eyes meet yours.
He's ravenous.
He looks more handsome than he ever has. But his expression is making you nervous. You don't know what he's going to do.
He starts grabbing your ass and slamming your body down on his dick harder and he suddenly throws his head back over the sofa.
"Uuhhg --- fuuck fuck me-!!!"
Now it sounds like he's begging you. He's moaning. You understand he feels good, but he looks so needy. What does he need?
"W-what is it... Toru, owner??"
"Fuck me, please, ride my dick, I swear I'm gunna cum soon, do you wanna make me feel good? Wanna make your owner feel good? Kitten, kitten baby I'm not gunna last just pl--"
His plea is cut short by a silky smooth movement of your hips that makes his body shake and convulse under you.
You wanna see more.
You lift his shirt up and he rips it off, impatience making him aggressive.
His abs are tensing up and his jaw is shut tight.
You roll your hips over him with a little guidance. It feels natural. You know what to do.
So you move up and down, taking him in your depths with him grabbing every inch of your plush skin- your ass, your thighs, then up your stomach and landing on your tits. He pinches your little nipples and sucks on them, making you whimper and whine until the intense, swelling pleasure in your stomach feels full like it's about to-
"O-owner what-what's happening- oh, oh, wait- this, this is---"
"Mating, baby, you're cumming, I can feel you."
He explains through the tightly clenched muscles of his jaw. He's gotta focus.
"You're squeezing me-"
You nod and moan, feeling the pleasure spread and beat through your body.
"-to get my cum out. Made for me- made to take me-"
He pants and bruises your hips with his big hands until you can't ride him anymore and he fucks his hips up into your with force until his cum spills. He moans out his affections and praise, pulling you up and down slowly to ensure you get every drop.
He lets you sit on him like that for a moment, bringing you closer. Your head nuzzles under his chin and you feel a little embarrassed with the way you acted, but he soothes all of that by stroking your back and telling you what a beautiful kitty you are.
"Was that fun, sweetie?"
His hands snake up your back and find your pointy ears to fiddle with.
You lick at his throat endearingly and peer up at your owner. He looks so satisfied.
"Mhm~" you hum affectionately and purr into him, enjoying the warmth of your naked bodies.
satoru
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ghouljams · 10 months
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IM WITH YOU FOR MORE FLUFFY FAE GHOST! FLUFF ALL AROUND PLEASE
So Love can call him with his name but what if she’s gushing about him to Liebling and it’s like that thing where your ears are ringing but he can hear all the nice things she’s saying and how in love she is
Yes yes yes more fluff for my favorite boy!!! Love gushes to Liebling about her boyfriend-husband all the time she loves him so much she can't help it. Liebling is jealous of how open Love is with her feelings but will never admit it.
Sometimes you get in these grooves monologuing on a single subject and you just can't stop. Like right now. Talking about your boyfriend.
"And he's really good with his hands," you gush.
"You already said he was good in bed," Liebling hums, flipping the page in her magazine.
"He is, but I mean like... artsy crafty stuff," you lean over the counter, not bothering to move much for the fae behind you. It's not like they're going to buy anything anyway. "Simon is weirdly really good at drawing, he's been helping me journal and he does these cute little doodles of anything I can't glue down. It's fantastic. Plus the bracelet, you've seen how cute the bracelet is."
Liebling hums again, you don't think she's listening but you don't really care. You don't want to stop talking yet so you won't.
"I know I should feel bad making Simon do so much for me, but he takes such good care of me. I mean look at my hair! Look at my skin! I'm fucking glowing, bitch." You hold your hair up to Lieblings face, you haven't had a split end in months.
She glances up at you and squints, then shields her eyes, "Yeah, you're like actually fucking glowing. Never seen so much gold on you."
You pluck at the tethers you can only feel, at the lightness and warmth in your chest. "Is it pretty? I can't-" you can't see it, you wish you could.
Liebling sighs and finally gives you a proper look. Still squinting at the light of it. You can almost see the glow reflected in her eyes.
"Yeah," she says with a small smile, "It's really pretty." You press your fingers against your smile, feeling the tethers you pull under your lips.
"Simon is so funny, he really wrapped me up in these things," not that you're complaining, the tethers feel secure, you've never felt this secure with anything in your life, "as if I'd ever want to leave him."
"Ghost freaks me out," Liebling mumbles, going back to her magazine.
"Alright well, you're a big baby, and I'm not scared of Simon. He's sweet. You're just jealous because König is a weirdo." You wave a hand, brushing off Lieblings frown.
"He's not a weirdo." You both glance at König across the shop, he's staring you down, his hand half way in a bag of potting mix. You turn back to Liebling who looks sensibly embarrassed.
"Anyway," you tell her, "Maybe if your shop wasn't so busy he wouldn't be masked up all the time. Simon's really cute under the mask, he's got these gorgeous sparkly brown eyes and the longest eyelashes I've ever seen, and our kids are gonna-" you bite your lip to stop the stream, your chest hot and pulling. You wish Simon was here, you always wish he was near you. You could call him, he wouldn't be mad, but you should be able to get through the day without him.
Liebling gives you a confused look, unsure if you're going to finish the monologue or if it's finally her turn to talk. "Couldn't tell you what König looks like, I try not to think about it." You'd wonder if it was that bad if her cheeks didn't turn red. Yeah. You bet she thinks about it a lot.
"Couldn't be me, I think about Simon all the time."
-
Ghost has never been more grateful for his mask. He's red, he can feel the heat of his blush burning to the tips of his ears. You're lighting up your tethers with kind words and compliments and his name falling like it's own desire from your lips. He leans against the table, dragging a hand over the skull mask. He wishes he could say he wants you to stop.
"Lighting up like a damn Christmas tree." Price gripes, ever observant as he blows off the smoke from his cigar. It swirls over the table, wrapping inquisitive tendrils around Ghosts whisps.
"His lass is name dropping," Soap tells him.
"The wife I haven't met yet." It's a dangerous truth, one Ghost doesn't have a credible answer for yet. He'll pay for it later, when Price finally does meet you. Right now it's nice having you all to himself.
"You're married?" Gaz asks across the table, Price throws another glare Ghost's way and nods.
"Wasn't my fault," Ghost tells him.
"Oh no, you should've seen this girl, absolutely brilliant, never seen anyone so-" Soap stops when he catches Ghost's glare, "Practically made to be ensnared," he whispers to Gaz, who grins.
"Gone after her like a proper fae, eh?" Gaz fixes Ghost with his ever observant gaze, "Didn't think you knew how to do that."
Ghost feels all his tethers pull tight, every nerve buzzing with you. "Gotta go," he tells the group quickly, not bothering to finish his bourbon before dropping his coin on the table, "the Missus calls."
"Bring her around sometime," Price leans back in his chair, "or I'll start making house calls." Soap and Gaz exchange a look, Ghost winces and nods before letting the shadows carry him away.
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xiaoscarasimp · 9 months
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A Small bit of Cat boi Smut
*drops another piece of smut and runs away*
yeah so uh this was a lot of fun there will be a part 2. This was supposed to take a lot more twists and turns but decided to hold off
Minors DNI pls
Cw:(oh lord where do we start?)
Afab!reader, cat girl reader,smut, degradation, praise, pet play, cat boi scara, cat boi lyney, magic, ooc,three some anal, SiZe KiNk
It was a mistake to try and get involved with the weird twink from Fontaine. He told you he'd come home and "cast magic on you and your significant other to help boost the relationship," So how did it end up like this? 
Your cat boy, Scaramouche, had you pinned up against a wall with your arms above your head, eyes heavily lidded, hazed with lust. You, on the other hand, had grown cat ears and tail and where you were normally taller than him, he now was towering over you. He was always strong to begin with, but now with your reduced size, he seemed even stronger. You squirmed trying to escape his grasp, but actually couldn’t.
You could see the magician Lyney in the background laughing at the whole situation, commenting how cute you looked. When asked how he did this or why, the only response he could give was that it “was something you both wanted.”
Scaramouche ran his thumb across your cheek and then across your lips, admiring how cute you had become. His tail coiled itself multiple times around your wrists and while you tried to get free, your tail had other ideas: namely wrapping itself around the catboy's wrist. Your face turned beet red, not understanding why your body was responding the way it was. As the situation stood: you should be scared shitless, but why were you so turned on? Was it fear? Was it because you had a secret degradation fetish?
“I always knew you’d make an excellent cat girl,” Scaramouche says in a husky growl in your now very sensitive ear. His breath sent shivers down your spine, heat pooling in your lower half.  “But smaller than me too? Can’t wait to feel how tight you are now.” He throws you on the bed and then gets on top of you, caging you between his arms. There was absolutely no escape now. 
“Scaramouche, this isn’t right,” you manage to choke out. “It’s that weird magician’s fault. He’s the on-” You felt a hand on your throat, and tail in your mouth, gagging you.
“Don't. Ever. Speak. Of. Another. Man. In. Front. Of. Me.” Scaramouche’s ears press against his head. He has always been the jealous type, but with whatever magic the Fontaine guy had been working on both of you, the jealousness and possessiveness had been amplified. You see Lyney in the background, laughing hysterically, but this time he had given himself cat ears and tail to match you and your cat boy. He smirks at you, saying how hot this all was, but Scaramouche didn’t seem to hear him; he was trapped in his own lust.
Scaramouche starts undressing you, first with his eyes, but then his hands move their way up your smaller body, taking your shirt along with them. It was an easy task since your clothes hadn’t shrunk along with you; everything was loose on you, a few sizes too big. You press your thighs together, trying to not let him take off your pants, but they were already halfway around your knees. Despite the fact you moan “no, don’t do this,” you can’t deny you’re very turned on by all of this. 
Lyney comes up behind Scaramouche, and whispers something in his ears, causing a wicked grin to appear on his face. The bluenette cat boy then slides your panties off, commenting how pretty your pussy was and how he wanted to ravage it immediately. You weren’t that much smaller than normal, but still worried if you could take him at your current size, because while the cat boy wasn’t huge by any means, he wasn’t exactly small either.
Scaramouche undresses himself, starting with taking his overshirt off slowly, revealing a black skin tight shirt that makes him look absolutely divine. He then slid down his shorts, revealing boxers already wet with pre cum. He was just so excited to ravage a pretty little cat girl. A pretty little cat girl, made just for him. 
He buries his face in your sex, moaning that it tastes sweeter than normal, but what really surprises you is that Lyney comes around and runs his hands up and down your body, pinching your erect nipples. Your tail thrashes from all the over stimulation, wanting more and for it to stop at the same time. Scaramouche swats Lyney’s hands away from your body, scowling at the audacity of the magician to touch his beloved property. 
“You’re not allowed to touch her until I’m done with her pussy,” Scaramouche growls. Lyney smirks, then comes around the cat boy, running his hands up and down his body this time, touches feather light, pinching his nipples gently causing the already horny cat boy to moan and become impossibly more erect. Scaramouche positions himself upright on the bed and pulls you up on his lap, kissing  and biting your collarbone, hands still savoring your body. 
“You said I couldn’t touch her, but you never said I couldn’t touch you,” Lyney says seductively, kissing the tattoo on the back of Scaramouche’s neck. His hands moved down to stroke the base of bluenette’s tail, causing his weeping member to thrust itself between your legs, causing you to gasp in pleasure. 
"Oh, gods, I want to be in your tight little pussy," Scaramouche moans,thrusting between your legs, catching a bit more of your slick with each thrust. "Since you're a cat girl now, meow for me."
"Nyaa~" As you do a traditional cat girl pose, you can feel whatever dignity you had left dying. That was enough to get Scaramouche to start kissing you roughly, tongues battling it out in your mouth. Lyney’s hands move from stroking Scaramouche’s tail to slightly pulling on your tail, causing you to moan in your lover's mouth. 
"Such a pretty little pet for me," your cat boy admires your neediness. "You know what a good pet needs? A collar, claiming that you are mine." At this point, Lyney conjures up a collar with a tag that says "Property of Scaramouche Balladeer the Sixth," and buckles it securely around your neck. 
"Look what a good pet she is for you," Lyney cooed in Scaramouche’s ear. "Oh, how the tables have turned. The master becomes the pet." 
You scowl at the two of them laughing at you. The magician’s eyes were ravenging you, wondering what acts he could convince your cat boy to do next. He had his own ideas swirling around in his head, and was wondering if your partner had any of the same ideas. 
Scaramouche was still thrusting between your legs, the tip threatening to slip in. You were getting extremely turned on by this, wanting his cock inside you more and more with every thrust. He could pick up on this feeling, and quite honestly he felt the same. 
However! He also wanted to hear you beg. Normally, you were in charge, but this time, this time he had a small cat girl sitting on his lap, moaning with every thrust between her legs. 
"You want me, don't you?" He moans through kissing. "I'll give it to you if you beg." You can see Lyney smiling, egging you on as he pulls your hair, stimulating you even further. As you attempt to use the thrusting motion as means to try and alleviate the growing heat pool in your abdomen, Scaramouche just stops.
"Ah ah ah," He tuts. "You don't get off with out me, and you don't get me unless you beg." 
"Please," you pitch your voice a bit higher than normal, swallowing your pride. "Please
 I n-need you to help me." The mix of juices between your legs was electrifying. What ever magic the Fontaine man had cast made stimulation even better than normal.
"Good girl." He allows you to lift yourself up and insert his cock into your needy hole. "Aanh~. You were tight before, but this is a whole 'nother level. Such a tiny cat girl pussy, made just for me."
As you slide down his length, you couldn't help but to feel fuller than normal, your walls clenching his cock more vigorously than usual. He's not small by any means, but with your reduced size, it felt like it was going to stretch you out, to break you.
 Scaramouche allows you to bottom out and adjust to his size before thrusting, causing you to cum almost immediately. 
"Such a good little whore you are," He purrs in your ear. "Cumming from insertion alone? You must have really needed it, didn-" You yank his head down and start kissing him passionately again. Reduced size or not, you didn’t have to pull very hard to make him come down to devour your lips. 
“I still haven’t gotten my high yet, so just bear with me darling,” He manages to rasp. “I can almost see where my dick is inside you. You’re taking it like a good little whore. Just for me: a good little whore just for me.”  As he thrusts deep inside you, he swears he can see a slight bulge in your stomach from where his dick was kissing your womb.
“F-fuckk,” Scaramouche groans and releases his load, pulling your hair right behind your cat ears, and painting your insides creamy white. Although he had just cum, he was still impossibly hard. Lyney murmurs something in your partner’s ear once more, and you start to feel a bit worried. Whatever the two cat boys were discussing could never be good, especially when Scaramouche smiled like a wicked cheshire cat.
You start to feel an icy hot feeling, cooling but burning at the same time and Scaramouche’s cock was expanding your insides. How was it possible to get even bigger after cumming? 
No. Wait. Lyney shrunk you. Again. 
“Oh, wow,” Scaramouche gasps, eyes even more hazed with lust. “An even tinier cat girl to fuck senseless. If I wasn’t fucking your womb before, I surely am now.” His hand cups your cheek, although at this point, his hands are huge compared to you. 
“Lyney? Why did you do this to me?!” You exclaim as Scaramouche starts thrusting into you; you could barely take his length at this size. Your stomach starts bulging with each thrust, his cock definitely in your womb. 
"Look at you, pregnant with my cock," he coos. "What a good little slut, taking in my cock."
Lyney laughs and snaps his fingers and his clothes disappear. The blond then sits around behind you and pushes you towards your own cat boy's chest, grabbing Scaramouche's face and kissing him, tongues swirling in their mouths. A bit of spit drops on your face as you look up at the two moaning boys making out.
All of sudden, you feel something wet prod your ass. Turns out, Lyney had licked his pinky finger before kissing Scaramouche and was prodding your rear end with it. The one finger almost barely fits, and you can feel your insides being rearranged. At the same time, Scaramouche forcibly opens your mouth and tells you to suck on his fingers.
"Annhh. Imagine how good your tiny mouth would feel on my dick, " He moans through kissing the blonde. Only one finger would fit in your mouth, and you lick it and suck on it like it was a lifeline. You moan while sucking on his delicate digits and being fucked in both holes, sending both cat boys even further towards the edge. 
You try to mention something about bodily injury of being fucked at this size, but couldn't make anything out due to the pleasure overriding your brain.
"Never worry, my dear," Lyney says behind you. "The magic protects your insides. Although, my eyes are on the handsome one that is currently inside of you." 
He thrusts his pinky a few more times in your ass before pushing you and Scaramouche backwards on the bed; you almost fall off your partner, but Lyney sandwiching you between the two cat boys keeps you in place. The raven-haired cat boy looks incredulously at the blonde, wondering what was going to happen next, as if he didn't know. 
Lyney conjures up some lube and puts the other cat boy's knees closer to his head for easier access to the bluenette’s hole. You crash into your lover's chest and give his nipple a small nibble and a few flicks of the tongue, making him moan your name. There was a deep rumble in his chest that could be confused with rolling thunder, but it was just him purring and moaning at the stimulation. 
As Lyney stuck his own cock in Scaramouche’s ass, you suck on his nipple even harder, biting and groping the area around it. The cat boy moans even louder as the blond bottoms out. Lyney’s pinky finger returns to your ass, going in easier this time. Their tails intertwine, and Lyney starts thrusting into your lover's needy hole and at the same time Scaramouche bucks his hips into you. He uses his large hands to keep you from falling off, but eventually sits you up, detaches you from his nipple, and demands that you suck on his finger again. 
You suck and moan on his finger, nearly cumming with every thrust that Scaramouche pumps into you. Your cat boy starts babbling about how good this all feels;the angle of Lyney’s cock hitting his prostate, the tiny cat girl pussy around his dick and her lewd mouth having its way with his fingers. It was all too good. 
"Aa~~ r-right there," the cat boy moans. "F-faster!....yes….I-I'm cumming again~" Lyney thrusts even faster, causing your tiny body to bounce up and down on your lover's cock, and both you and Lyney cum at the same time, causing Scaramouche to cum yet again. 
Basking in the afterglow, Lyney restores you to your normal size and makes your cat ears and tail disappear. You weren’t going to lie: the cat ears and tail had to be your favorite part of the whole experience….and being fucked at reduced size was pretty nice as well.
The three of you pass out on the bed, Scaramouche on your right side and Lyney on your left, and each one of them cuddling you, both wishing to do that again.
You awake to two small cat boys on either side, each one about half the size of a normal human. One with raven hair, the other with platinum blonde. You smile.
"Good morning, darlings." 
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skelecentral · 4 months
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Bad Sansuary day 7 (hosted by @owl-bones!): Boxed in
Dust week begins!
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wasjustred · 1 year
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Winter Weather Warning - NSFW Larissa Weems x f!Reader
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Summary: A blizzard comes barreling through the area and you find yourself stranded———in Larissa’s quarters.
Pairing(s): Larissa Weems x femprof!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, smut – fingering and cunnilingus (reader receiving); Larissa gets an orgasm
Word Count: ~6.3k (oops)
Author’s Note: Whaaat? A fic? From me? Finally?? I hope this was worth the wait! Thanks to all you lovely folk who’ve been so patient with me; there’s been a lot going on in my life so I’m very appreciative of you all. Feedback, as always, is welcome and encouraged! ♡ ﹠. a special thank you to my beta readers @sapphicsbeloved and @zephyr-is-tired ——— sending you many kisses and finger waggles for your help! 😙🥰 ╱ AO3
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You try not to begrudge the snow for falling when and where it will. It’s pretty, you have to admit: soft, and flurried, sweeping over the stone grounds of Nevermore without prejudice. You peer out from your window and watch scattered groups of students chase after each other gleefully, faces turned up toward the sky like small purple sunflowers in their school uniforms, arms outstretched and reaching. The low angle of the sun against the trees suggests dusk will fall soon, just enough light still to cast long, excitable shadows across the ground.
A smile prods at your lips as you turn away from the window and further into your classroom with the intention of setting up for your last class of the day. You’d originally planned to guide them through a review period for an exam next week, but with the state of the sky and the weekend finally here, you decide a film might instead be just what everyone needs; you can afford to push the exam back another day, and really, they’ll be gunning for extra time where they can get it anyway. You know your students well enough.
When the kids begin filing in, you delegate tasks without explanation, the room abuzz as you instruct one student to close the blinds and a few others to adjust the desks just so. You catch a glimpse of the world down below before the windows cover up: Steady flurries still, but nothing that worries you. The kids’ thrill at spending the period in relaxation when you reveal your plan to them is enough to distract from any further thoughts on the weather, anyhow.
The hour passes swiftly as you sit in the back grading papers, every so often glancing up to take stock of the room. Everyone files out just as fast at the sound of the bell and calls out wishes for a good weekend while you’re left to rearrange the room back into its original state. You take care of the desks first, pack your own items up, decide to leave the windows for Monday since it’s dark out by now, no longer any ribbons of light sneaking through the cracks where the blinds don’t quite meet glass. A nice bottle of wine, a fire, maybe a few candles and a good book… the night is promising, and you run through a mental checklist of how many comfort items and practices you can employ as you wander down to the front entrance, bundled up tightly in your coat to brave the cold.
But when you reach the landing of the long staircase, the sight that greets you is not promising in the slightest: the outer floodlights cast a muted glow over what had been a harmless shower of snow, now furious gusts of heavy flakes collecting faster than your brain can entertain. There has to be at least a couple inches out there already, and the realization that you’ll have to navigate through the winding, hilly roads of Vermont in the middle of this elicits a groan. The treeline is hardly visible amidst the dark and the snow, and the roads are likely no better off: the town tends to skirt right around Nevermore when salting the streets. This drive’ll be a perilous one at best.
“Absolutely not.” The sound of Larissa’s disapproval startles you into a sharp and over-dramatic gasp, every muscle of yours tensing at once when her voice comes from just behind you. 
“Jesus, you scared me! ‘Absolutely not’ what?” You turn to her with features marred by confusion - once the surprise has melted away - and tilt your head up, taking a small step back to balance yourself when you realize how close she is. She looms over you in a way only she can: regal and overwhelming–––yet cordial all the same, offset by the soft floralness of her perfume. The fact that she’d reached you there without a sound would likely be unsettling if it were anyone else. With her it’s just… attractive, the slyness of it all. The mischievous grin she bares in response to how you jump doesn’t help.
“There is absolutely no chance I’m letting you drive in that.” This elicits an incredulous scoff as you peer up at her, arms lifting at your sides like a pair of very exasperated, very amused wings.
“Letting me? What am I supposed to do? Break my back sleeping on the floor of the library? No thanks.”
“Don’t be silly,” Larissa tsks, pressing her lips together in an all too familiar demonstration of thought. She’s quick with her next words, though, and something tells you there wasn’t much thought to be given at all. “You’ll stay with me.”
The firmness with which she says this, the matter-of-fact tone that has always so easily slid off her tongue, leaves no room for discussion. You gape at her but Larissa’s already swiveling on her heel and walking in the direction of her office as though it’s been decided once and for all, no questions asked. She throws a crooked finger over her shoulder and gestures for you to follow, the sound of her heels now echoing through the mostly-empty halls.
You wonder, frivolously, how in the hell you didn’t hear her the first time around.
You rush after her with quick steps in an effort to keep up; Larissa’s long, unhesitating strides carry her farther and faster than you can move without some effort. The view of her backside, however, is not one that merits complaint. You follow the curve of it up until you come upon a landing you’re not familiar with, nearly knocking into Larissa when she halts abruptly and turns towards you for the first time since this little journey began. She looks almost unsure of herself now, eyes flitting about rather than meeting yours. It’s one thing, you know, to flirt in passing; to brush arms when you’re both chaperoning students in Jericho; to trade amused, knowing glances across faculty meetings. But it’s another to invite you into her sanctuary, a decisive and loaded crossing of one of the last lines between the two of you.
“If you’d prefer, I believe there’s an empty dorm room I can have made up for you. It’d be no problem.” She finally looks down at you long enough for you to read what’s going on behind that mask of hers, typically pristine and perhaps a touch righteous: she’s trying to give you an out, trying to relinquish control for a second before she commandeers your night, and she’s worried she’s already gone too far by bringing you up here in the first place.
But you’re not going to say no to a night at Larissa’s side, especially when the potential for a warm fire and a glass of wine or two is so high.
Especially when it’s her asking.
“No, it’s alright. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
“Not at all,” she’s quick to blurt out, shaking her head. “I simply wanted to make sure you knew you had the option, that’s all.”
With that, Larissa turns again and begins the ascent to what you assume is her hall–––until you’ve reached another landing with only one door, and she pushes it open to reveal an entire apartment all her own. It’s very her, this place: Warm, shining, elegant. The living room is awash with low, simmering lights, furnished with a mix of dark leather and velour, a towering bookcase taking up the whole of one of the far walls with an accompanying reading nook. She walks you further into the threshold and eases the door closed behind you, hovering silently as you take the space in. There are a few framed art pieces that you promise yourself you’ll review more thoroughly later on, scattered vases of flowers and various, high-hanging mirrors.
What truly draws your attention, however, are the photos strategically lining the walls, clearly taken at various points in Larissa’s life: A small platinum-blonde girl carefully posed before a Christmas tree with two very proper looking hounds on either side of her, all very regal and staged except for the wide, nose-crinkling grin on the girl’s face; a beach trip with the same girl, slightly older now, arm thrown over her face as she squints against the sun and into the camera - and a pair of kids that look to be around her age chase each other in the background; teenage Larissa suited up and on horseback, smiling proudly as a judge strings a blue ribbon around the horse’s halter; graduation photos from Nevermore; a trip to the Scottish Highlands, it looks like, a twenty-something Larissa soaked to the bone but grinning out at the miles and miles of luscious greens like she couldn’t be bothered less by the weather. It’s the most you’ve ever seen of her.
Eventually Larissa brushes behind you, laying a hand at your waist in passing as she toes off her heels and begins the process of lighting the fireplace.
Her touch leaves an emphatic tingle in its wake.
“I didn’t think my wall was that particularly exciting,” she muses, glancing over her shoulder at you. You duck your head and turn from the wall, following her lead as you slip out of your shoes and place them next to her own.
“I always like to see what people were like before I knew them. It’s intimate.” Larissa’s gaze softens almost imperceptibly before she returns her attention to the fire, adjusting the logs one last time and replacing the latch on the brass screen.
“What do they tell you, those pictures?” She wipes her hands and comes to rest against the edge of a couch, gazing at you as you shift on your feet and consider her question. Her eyes remain soft, but there’s something else lurking there behind the blue now: Curiosity? Interest? Desire, even? You can’t read it for sure, so you clear your throat and move back to the photographs on her wall, crossing your arms over yourself.
“Well, .. this one,” you start, gesturing towards the Christmas tree, “screams rich.” Larissa snorts loudly and tilts her head in a way that says you’re not wrong. “Probably an only child - at least at the time, otherwise there’d be other kids with you.” Her smile gives nothing away this time, but you charge ahead, brushing your fingers against the frame that holds the beach between its borders.
“This isn’t an American beach, that much I know.” You choose not to elaborate, allowing your ‘Americanness’ to speak for itself. “But I can’t tell if you grew up going there or if it was a special vacation, maybe visiting family… ?” you trail off as your gaze drifts over to her questioningly. She just shrugs, and you click your teeth in mock disapproval before moving on.
“You look happy here,” you observe, allowing your hand to drift over the photo of Larissa in her English riding gear. “Unforced. You enjoyed competing, maybe preferred your horse to people.” This one might be an unfair deduction, supplemented by your understanding of how cruel kids can be–––especially to an outcast, especially to a 6’3” girl.
“The Duke,” Larissa pitches in, pushing up off the couch’s back to join just behind your shoulder, gazing over at the photo in question. “My mother hated the name, but I insisted. He was a gift for my fifteenth birthday,” she reminisces, breath coursing over the tip of your ear. You peer up at her as she smiles, something sad and regretful there before she sucks in a deep breath and points out a new photo to you, more recent by the looks of it: Larissa stands with a large group of students in their Nevermore uniforms, mid-laugh as one of the kids waves his hands wildly and another has their mouth agape in what looks to be protest. Her eyes are crinkled - genuine - and one of her hands seems to be in the process of making its way up to cover her mouth, the other mindlessly resting at her midsection. You know that laugh. It’s her most uninhibited, her most authentic, which only comes out when she’s caught completely off-guard. Your favorite, if you’re honest.
“My first class of students as principal of Nevermore,” Larissa offers, scrunching her nose happily at the memory.
“What’d he say? That student?” You’re part genuine curiosity and part selfishness: eager to know what made her laugh like that, and how you can take hold of that kid’s humor and use it for yourself, elicit a look like that, a laugh like that, which so rarely comes about during school hours.
“I wish I could remember,” she murmurs, taking one last look before clasping her hands together and shocking you out of the reverie. “But nevermind all that. Have you eaten dinner yet?”
You nod sheepishly, nearly apologetic knowing she likely hasn’t and is looking to be a good hostess. But she merely nods, looking relieved: “Oh good, I can’t be bothered to cook tonight,” Larissa admits, a teasing grin stretching from ear to ear. 
“Let me show you where everything is, then.” She guides you down the hall and nudges one of the doors open, gesturing with an open palm. “Here’s the bathroom. Extra amenities are in the second drawer there, towels in the closet.” The suite is nicer than any bathroom you’ve ever had, really the stuff of luxury hotels: white marble floors, a deep soaking tub, gold knobs and handles on almost every appliance. You’ve no choice but to forcefully shoo away the startling, indecent imaginings that break through your reserves of Larissa sinking deep into the lush bubbles of the tub, skin glistening, chest bare––––
“Heated floors, too. I never go cold in the winters.” Ever humble, Larissa pulls at your shoulder gently and switches the light off, directing you to another door just diagonal of the bathroom. When she swings the door open, you’re embarrassingly aware of the way your jaw drops.
“Bedroom’s this way,” she says, stepping into the space. It’s gorgeous, swooping drapes of dark ruby and gold, satin bedding that pools over the mattress and onto the floor, puddles of fabric against a thick persian rug. There’s another fireplace opposite the bed, an area farther off with another scaling bookcase and two large, well-worn armchairs, a small number of intricately designed table and floor lamps, a matching vanity and armoire, the former of which is careful, lived-in chaos with its scattered tubes of lipstick and skin care tinctures.
It’s Larissa.
“Wow,” you breathe, meeting her amused gaze. “You never mentioned you live like this. I would’ve taken you up on a sleepover much sooner if I’d known.” Larissa flushes and coughs out a coy laugh, smoothing a hand over her hair as she looks out across the room.
“Yes, well. You’re here now.” She reaches out and lifts your handbag from you, pulling at your coat lapel next to signal you should take it off. Once you do, Larissa hangs it along one of the walls and places your bag on her vanity. Busy work. “I have clothes you can borrow of course, though they may be a bit big. I’ll set them out, although,” she pauses, glancing at her bedside clock, “it’s early still… Up for a movie? Glass of wine?”
You’re almost - almost - embarrassed by the unrestrained nodding of your head, but hell, it’s been a long week, and relaxing with a bottle of wine sounds like the perfect reward for making it through without breaking down [in front of your students]. The fact that it’s Larissa’s personal wine, in her personal quarters, in her personal hands does nothing to lessen the appeal.
The question of where Larissa will sleep, if showing you the bedroom was her way of offering it to you, hangs in your head, but you decide the answer can wait until the time for sleep comes around. By no means are you going to allow Larissa to banish herself to the couch in her own home. You’d sooner take the floor–––even if you’d jokingly complained about that very same concept earlier in the hour.
“Do you have a preferred genre?” She asks as you both return to the living room, you perching on the sofa as she disappears into what you assume is the kitchen to fetch the wine. It’s not normally a loaded question, nor one worth considering too deeply, but you realize you have an opportunity here… and if Larissa’s occasional blushes, her soft gaze, mean what you hope they do, perhaps there’s a strategy to be employed. You shift further into the cushions, absentmindedly running a hand over your clavicle in thought.
“Don’t laugh… but I’m a sucker for romance when the weather’s like this,” you call out. Larissa peeks her head out from around the corner, brows furrowed in funny disbelief.
“Really?”
“Wha–– why is that so hard to believe?!”
“It’s not, I just.. wasn’t expecting it, I suppose. You seem more of the action or thriller type.” She shrugs and disappears again without further explanation, leaving you to half-pout half-ponder at her words. Before you can make an argument in your defense, however, she’s returning with two full glasses, bottle tucked under her arm, and dimming the lights, a practiced look of concentration slanted across her features as she makes her way over to the couch and lowers one of the glasses into your waiting hand. The red sloshes up just near the edge when Larissa hands it off, and you half-jokingly prod at her as your brows shoot up in amusement.
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Principal Weems?” She tuts with faux indignation, but the growing flush of her cheeks betrays her.
“I wouldn’t dare.” She settles next to you - still a respectable distance for colleagues, but closer than mere acquaintances - and places the uncorked bottle on the table ahead of you, grinning.
“Romance it is, but I pick.” You ‘d be surprised by her demand if you didn’t know Larissa’s need to be in control at all times. In fact, if anything surprises you, it’s her calmness in the face of this turbulent weather–––perhaps the most uncontrollable variable there is. Even the most headstrong people can be manipulated, but not the sky.
The film she chooses isn’t one you’ve seen before, which excites you, and you both sink into the couch with a comfortable silence. You share little notes back and forth on the revolving plots and chuckle at the occasional joke, however cliché, as the movie rolls, finding an easy rhythm you’ve never before been able to appreciate amidst the chaos of classes and faculty meetings. 
It’s about an hour in, having finished your first glass and poured another for yourself and Larissa, that you make the mistake of peering over at her from the corner of your eye. A particularly sappy scene is playing out before you. The TV’s light flickers softly against her face, which is content and dare you say tender as the two protagonists share a moment together. The stumble before the fall. Her forehead creases and you have the sudden urge to kiss the lines away, warmed by the wine and her beauty.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispers hoarsely, though her eyes never leave the screen. 
Your heart jolts when she catches you out, running hot with guilt. Your legs shift beneath you as you move to scoot a few inches away - to give her space from your leering gaze - but you freeze when you feel her hand on your knee, holding you in place. You watch her for any sign that’ll tell you what’s going through her head but she doesn’t budge further, only loosening her hold on you a fraction when you relax against the cushions again. Your heart is beating hard at the door of your ribs as you tilt your head back towards the movie, far too distracted to actually process anything that’s happening. The air is so thick now your lungs can hardly keep up; it’s a dizzying thing, electric, and your thoughts jumble haphazardly as you wonder whether or not Larissa’s feeling it, too.
You risk a peek at her again–––but Larissa is already looking at you. 
Her chest is heaving, albeit subtly, and her eyes are dark. A steep wave of arousal pulses through you when her tongue slips out along her upper lip, her gaze flicking down to your mouth and back up again: a question. The second you nod her mouth is on yours, both of you sighing into the touch. You cup the back of her neck, pulling her closer still as your other hand fists around the fabric of her dress. An insistent tug at your waist brings one of your legs between her own, hips rolling against each other as she gropes at you mindlessly, squeezing the thigh slotted over her heat.
“Is this okay?” she asks breathlessly, dragging your bottom lip between her teeth before she pulls away to look at you. Her cheeks are flushed a heavy pink and her lipstick is smudged. You giggle at the realization that there must be bright crimson streaks along your chin and lips.
“Yes,” you assure her between steadying pants, stroking a hand from her shoulder to her wrist and entwining your fingers, giving them a gentle pinch. “You alright?”
A smile briefly turns her lips, soft and loose. “Very much so.”
The next few moments are sweeter, slower as you take your time savoring her taste, tracing the swell of her lips, the delicate scar at the top there, following the line of her jaw up into her hair with your fingertips. She presses into you as gentle as ever, drawing shivers up to the surface of your skin as her hand snakes up the length of your spine. Barely there still is the sound of the fire lingering in its box and the distinct roar of wintry gusts at the window, mere suggestions at the back of your brain. The wine’s been long forgotten on the table.
You shudder when Larissa’s fingers tease at the lower hem of your blouse and brush against a bare sliver of skin, resting there before you arch into her and take hold of her wrist, guiding her hand higher. Her lips quirk to one side at your earnestness, especially as she reaches the clasp of your bra. She hesitates again, more teasing than searching, and slides her tongue into your willing mouth, exhaling sharply when you meet her move for move. Nimble fingers unclasp the bra without issue before they drift around to your front, putting distance between your bodies as Larissa palms your breasts, takes a nipple between her fingertips and pulls and twists with wicked dexterity.
A whimper escapes you when she sinks her teeth into your lip for a second time, much harsher this go around before she suddenly parts from you and begins pressing open-mouth kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and soothing in time with the hapless rocking of your hips. She adjusts to unbutton your top, never once pausing in her assault on your neck as she does so.
“Wait,” you pant out suddenly, and all at once her body leaves you, drawing back to give you space. The look on Larissa’s face is a concerned one, but gentle still, and you know she’ll follow where you need. It’s everything you can do not to keep her waiting in exchange for the chance to look at her, swollen lips and mussed hair, dress askew. 
She’s never been more beautiful to you. 
“Take me to bed.”
Her concern is washed away and replaced with relief - and then more prominent, want.
Larissa rises up from the couch and reaches a hand out to you, catching you off-guard when instead of walking you to the bedroom once you stand, she bends at the knee and scoops you up, your legs coming to wrap around her waist as you laugh in surprise.
“Who am I to say no,” she teases, placing a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips before making the careful trek over to the bedroom.
The question of where she’ll sleep is hardly that anymore. 
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You’re both already naked and rocking against each other beneath her blankets when the power goes out. Neither of you truly take notice until the temperature in the room’s significantly plummeted.
“Oh–––one moment, darling.” You push yourself up on your elbows and whine as Larissa slips out of bed, hissing against the cold. Goosebumps raise along her skin, the peaks of her nipples hardening further as she rushes to kneel before the fireplace, sparking a flame in record time. Her skin nearly glows in the moonlight that trickles in from the windows, reflective amidst the snow. She looks like a ghost before you - ethereal, hauntingly so - and you tilt your head, gaze tracking from the deep slope of her calves to the fine curve of her ass, the faint divots of her spine, the wisps of hair that have come loose from their hold and fallen to her shoulders.
“You’re staring,” Larissa chides as she slides back under the covers, shivering.
“I’m admiring,” you correct lamely, a pitiful pout coming to rest upon your lips as you open your arms and draw her closer to warm her now-frigid skin. She hums as if to say ‘yeah, okay,’ burrows into you and drapes an arm across your middle as she pushes her leg between yours. Your hips instinctively buck when her thigh slides against the wetness of your cunt, and you’re both abruptly reminded of what had you so distracted in the first place.
Larissa tentatively nods towards you again and runs the tip of her tongue along your pulse point, your hips beginning to rock together once more, panting heavily and in unison while the storm surges on outside, unabated. The heat pooling in your stomach is in stark contrast to the drifting chill in the room, rearing a confused, overwhelming sensation of hot-cold along your skin. Larissa’s breath, warm on your neck, only further urges the feeling along until you feel as though you might snap if she doesn’t take you fully.
“Please,” you whimper, dragging your nails up over her back with little reserve. Larissa nips at your chin and yanks your leg further across her, taut against your clit.
“Please what?” Her voice is raked over with a carnal desire the likes of which you’ve never seen on her before, deep and airy. It only serves to pull the coil tighter. Your breath hitches as she pushes herself up on her hands and knees, hovering over you now, and she leans down, down until her face is level with yours, an intense wave of adoration flooding through you as she caresses one of your cheeks. She whispers, “I want you to beg, sweetheart,” and it’s all over, never a chance, the air all but torn from you, slick heat gone straight to your cunt.
Beg for her. Beg for Her. No matter how many times the thought bounces around within that empty little head of yours, you’re frozen in place both by lust and surprise. You’ve had your share of fun, of course, but the type that usually involves you calling the shots, taking charge. You thought you liked it that way.
You might’ve been wrong.
You’re only finally jostled from your thoughts when Larissa pulls back and draws a brow up at your silence. A shadow of concern passes over her face but you’re quick to pull her back in, nodding.
“Please fuck me,” you all but whisper, desperate to be filled, to be warmed, to be taken care of while the elements ravage the earth beyond these four walls. Larissa grins smugly at your feebleness, pressing her full weight upon you before she winds a hand down between your bodies, cupping your slickness in her palm. You’re dripping all over yourself, you know: a cool, nearly chafing wetness coating the inside of your thighs, so easily spread when Larissa dips her fingers in between your folds. She sinks a single digit into you just halfway, draws it out, sinks in again and curls it against that soft spot, yes, right there––
She easily adds another and hums at the way your body translates its own neediness, busying her mouth with the soft line of your jaw.
“You feel so good..” she murmurs as her fingers bury themselves into you knuckle-deep, so long and soft and better than you’d ever imagined (and you’d certainly spent time imagining it). Her hips press into yours from above, throwing weight behind her hand as she rolls against you, a slow and steady fucking that excites the fire already roaring within you. You gaze up at her in awe as her eyelids flutter in time with the movement of her hips, realizing she’s found just the right friction against the back of her own hand that each time she thrusts into you, a firm, rippling pressure rubs up against her own clit.
Your hands search frantically now until they’re planted at the slope of Larissa’s waist and you watch, carefully, as you pull her harder into each drive of her hips, rejoicing when she gasps and shudders into the pattern, breaking it for a fraction of a second before driving into you with a far greater desperation.
“Oohf, yes, th-that’s it, darling,” she pants out before capturing your lips in a sloppy, bruising kiss. Suddenly your own orgasm is incidental as you revel in the picture of her coming undone above you, chest flushed, cheeks pink, her hair falling further from its updo as she works her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Look at me, I want to see you,” you clamor with a novel burst of confidence, hands drifting up from her waist to cup her face in your palms. You want to look her in the eye when she cums. You want the memory of her sounds, her face, so deeply imbedded in your mind that it’ll keep you warm when you’ve returned to your own quarters. You want, you want, you want, and she whimpers - a heavenly sound - and obliges, gaze unfocused for a moment before she looks down at you, tongue darting out as she attempts to maintain some degree of focus.
“Right there, right there.. I can feel how close you are,” you huffily encourage, shifting so that both of your legs wrap tight around her and wrench her deeper, harder into you, smiling when her breath hitches at the change of pace and pressure against her sex. You watch her closely, in awe: Larissa’s brows are furrowed, her mouth fallen open and the pink of her tongue closely matched to that of her cheeks, the slight swell of her tits lurching which each thrust. The knowledge that each plunge into your cunt brings her closer is surreal––that she’s so obviously getting off on fucking you, that the frantic snap of her hips is building both of you up, simultaneously.
Her hips begin to stutter into you, airy whimpers falling from her as she teeters on the edge, fingers curling haphazardly in an attempt to continue fucking you through the oncoming rush of her orgasm. The mattress rocks and dips momentarily as Larissa gasps, sharp, and suddenly bows over you with the force of her climax, breath hot on your neck, forehead pressed into your temple, chest heaving against yours as she mindlessly ruts. Her fingers remain buried in your heat, pulsing slowly in time with her come-down. 
Larissa’s body shudders as you run your palm over her in light, gentle sweeps, one hand carefully traveling to cup the back of her neck.
“You’re alright.. I know.. ‘s good, hm?” You feel a weak nod at your side, Larissa eventually stilling atop you. The pad of her thumb draws slow, lazy circles around your clit as her breathing slows, nosing the crook between your shoulder and neck. 
“Christ,” she mumbles against your skin, and you chuckle as her lips draw a line from your ear to your chin.
“Yeah?” She hums and - slowly, determined - begins to wriggle down your body until her face is level with your cunt, glancing up at you with a blissed-out smirk before she presses an open-mouthed kiss to your slickness. The wet warmth of her tongue slides easily against you, dipping between your folds, lapping up the puddle that’s collected at your center, working in tandem with the pressure of her thumb at your clit, a feeling dumbly akin to religious devotion: a reverent prayer at your sex, holy flames licking up the walls of her bedroom, the weighted creases of her sheets stretched where she kneels before you.
A strong gust of wind wracks the shutters of her windows. They bang haphazardly against the glass, knocking in time with the surges of the storm.
Your fingers clench around the bed covers as Larissa rolls over your entrance once more, teasing, then pushing into your dripping hole with an embarrassing ease. She fucks you slow and as deep as she’s able, fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips. Not even the devil themself could stop you from rolling your pussy against her face in search of some greater friction, whining as the sounds of her tongue wading through your arousal mixes with the crackling of the fireplace, the moan of the storm outside.
“Ohfuckyes,” you pant as your legs spread further on their own accord, knees drawing up to alter the angle at which your pleasure floods through you. She moves with delicious ability, and you watch the stark blondeness of her hair bob with every fervent lap of her tongue, overwhelmed with the sudden realness of the moment: Larissa’s scent on the pillows, her lipstick smudged across your lips, her sweat on your skin. Her thumb abandons your clit, and a desperate cry waits at the threshold of your mouth until her finger is replaced with the pointed flicking of her tongue, quick and full and firm against you. The coil pulls tight within your core.
She murmurs something brusque but you’re too consumed with the sensation of her fingertips at your inner thigh to process, but she repeats herself as you release a heavy sigh, her fingers sinking deep into your cunt.
“That’s a good girl..." Your back arches at the same time Larissa takes your clit into her mouth, sucking and slurping as if to drink from that little bundle of nerves drawn straight to your core, as if to quench an otherworldly thirst. She pulls your orgasm from you quick and unforgivingly, never stumbling in her ministrations when your thighs begin to close in around her, or when your hands wind into her hair and pull, hard. She continues to devour you as if she doesn’t notice the snapping of that coil, the sounds that melt into the satiny sheets of her bed as you cry out for her–––the curling into yourself as your clit throbs towards unbearable tenderness.
“Fff––please, please, I’m––” Sapphire eyes bore into yours as her lips stretch into a devious smile, slowly but surely unlatching. A mercy, if you’ve ever seen one. You tremble in relief.
“You can’t take it?” she coos, superficial concern floating by your quivering sex. You don’t know whether to pull her closer or push her away when Larissa glances down towards your soaking cunt again––––
but the choice is made for you when she draws herself up and grabs hold of your chin, pushing her tongue into the waiting cavern of your mouth. The sure expanse of her thigh slides between your legs as she does so, eliciting a startled twitch as she brushes against your clit. She swallows your gasp.
“So sweet.” Larissa nips at your chin, presses her thigh against you more firmly and rubs her thumb back and forth along your cheek. Your hips buck of their own volition, acting solely on the most primal of instincts despite the sensitive twinge between your legs. There’s only Larissa’s softness, her warmth, her gentle affection circling your head, coloring the air around you. The world’s ending outside and it’s just her.
“Please kiss me,” you whisper, suddenly overcome with the need to absorb her, to touch her anywhere and everywhere all at once as if you could meld together somehow amidst the tousled satin.
She stills, hovering over you with a smile so soft you’re almost certain this has all been a very long, very desperate webbing of dreams until she obliges, brushing her lips against yours with the utmost of care.
“Are you alright?” Her voice is hushed, eyes searching.
“Better than alright,” you assure her, brushing a stray hair from in front of her face. “Kind of just wanted to be close to you…” You shrug sheepishly and turn your attention to the far wall, suddenly very interested in the twisting shadows of trees cast against the space there. The abrupt rush of vulnerability reddens your cheeks, lips pursing as the regret at such an intimate admission prickles up with equal swiftness. It’s quickly brushed away, however, when Larissa clicks her tongue and tilts your face towards her with a palm against your cheek, brow arched amusedly.
“Then be close,” she says, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your nose before she pulls you flush against her and buries her face into your neck. The fire’s dwindling, informed by the dying light of the room, the falling temperature beyond the bed, but neither of you notice as you wrap yourselves up in the arms of the other, tending to a warmth all your own.
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esha-isboogara · 1 year
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perv!grimmjow
bleach men bring out something gross in me but i’m not going to apologize
more bleach —> aizen
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✰grimmjow is a warning himself,he’s a sick little bastard,
||taglist: @stygianoir||
♡perv!grimmjow who doesn’t give a fuck that he’s a pervert. he’s not going to feel bad about the way he is just because some loser criticized him. he doesn’t even try to hide it.
♡perv!grimmjow who doesn’t wear anything under his robes. what reason does he have ? he has a big dick and he knows it. the other espada try in vein to convince him to wear something-anything. he likes fo show off his cock and knowing that you’ll see it makes him all the more excited.
♡perv!grimmjow who loves to be all up on you. normally he’s not a hugger but how can he now be when you’re walking around with all that curve ?
♡perv!grimmjow who hates it when aizen talks to you alone. he knows how he can be and he doesn’t like it. grimmjow will go out of his way to make sure the two of you are not alone- he’s practically attached at your hip most of the time
♡perv!grimmjow who gets a kick out of watching you fight. the way your body moves with such ease ? he finds it so sexy- it’s so hard to control himself. if he’s lucky some of your robe will get torn off and he’ll get to see some skin.
♡perv!grimmjow who is basically your boyfriend. he doesn’t give you a say in the matter he just starts to claim you’re his one day and never stopped. most of the other espada don’t want anything to do with his bs so they accept this fact and move on.
♡perv!grimmjow who makes you shower with him. he insists so many times you take the offer to shut him up. seeing your naked body next to yours is a dream come true. oh how he wants to fuck you but he knows he can’t stray from his mission.
♡perv!grimmjow who straight up asked for your panties and bras. he has no shame.
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myeagleexpert · 2 months
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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕬𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗
And if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?
Howl's Moving Castle x Twisted Wonderland Au
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The starry night at NRC was a spectacle of beauty and mystery, with the meteor shower painting the sky in shades of silver and gold. Yuu walked through the dark corridors of the Ramshackle dormitory, lit only by the flickering light of candles and a few points of failed electric light. Grim, the talking cat monster with dancing fire flames, followed beside her silently, his yellow eyes glowing with an unusual intensity and worried for his friend.
Today had been one of those days for the young woman without magic: Waking up late and almost late, she was intercepted by Crowley who had given exhaustive work that he himself had not done, the chemistry test that she and the infamous ADeuce had was a disaster, her crush had given the cold shoulder, Grim got into a totally unnecessary fight with some idiots from the fourth year and as a result they lost their lunch and got some scratches, and the front of his beloved Ramsharckle dorm collapsed, the damp and old wood had given way. The bitter taste in the mouth was not enough to bring a revolt from within Yuu so that she raised a scream of fury and stepped on the floor, her tired body just looked at the mess and walked straight past, the dejected soul took a shower where she hoped for the deep in her fragile heart, the shampoo would clean the dirt she felt and the tears would mix with the hot water.
At least I Tsunotaro will come today.- the only hope she could have that night was to see her dear friend. She put on her less tattered pajamas and sat at the study table waiting for the famous green fireflies to appear.
Unfortunately he didn't show up, the prince didn't answer the call.
The lack of Malleus's gentle presence made schoolwork become heavier and the lump in the throat tightened more and more, the clock was counting down the seconds to….
“Henchman, are you okay? Your eyes are red” with the little self-control he had, Yuu nodded, avoiding his feline friend's gaze and focusing on the blurry letters of school work and just in time the light in the dorm was cut off.
“NYAAH” “It was just what was needed!” Could it be Crowley's irresponsibility? The electricity bill? Was it an attack? A short circuit? Either way, it doesn't matter anymore.
The tired body got up and silently searched for the candles until strange lights passing through the window caught the girl's attention. Ah, the meteor shower. Like a leaf carried by the wind, Yuu's steps, even without hope, led her to the front part of the ramsharckle, the same part of which fell and collapsed. Pushing aside some wood, the girl sat down on the floor and Grim followed her shortly after, not trusting that her friend would be okay alone.
“Henchman, what are we doing here?” "I don't know…"
Will I ever really go home? Will I live forever in this place being this weak? I would do anything to see my family again… I myself will find a way to find my way back, whatever the cost.
Loneliness and anguish weighed on Yuu's heart, like chains that tied her to a distant past, an overwhelming longing for her homeland. She longed for a home, for a place where she could be truly happy. Home….my home….my family….The starry night shone with a unique and mysterious beauty, the shooting stars cutting across the sky like tears of light. Each meteorite that fell seemed to echo the loneliness and anguish that Yuu felt inside her.
As she watched the shooting stars cut across the sky like sharp blades, one of them stood out, shining with a disturbing intensity that seemed to whisper Yuu's name as the golden ball of fire quickly fell towards the ground. Without knowing why the girl just followed her heart and with an irresistible impulse, Yuu ran towards the shooting star, her mind filled with a mixture of despair and hope that she didn't know where it came from.
The powerful ball of fire broke apart and reflected various colors and when the star finally fell into her hands. As she held the star in her trembling hands, Yuu felt a wave of magical power envelop her, making her tremble with emotion and fear. A magical energy enveloped her, and in an instant, the star fell apart, disappearing into her body. A warm feeling filled Yuu, and she felt her heart beat faster than ever. The star, now resident in her being, revealed its mysterious and enigmatic personality, whispering ancient secrets and dark promises in her ears and finally a deal was made between the magicless human and the fallen star.
As Yuu absorbed the star's powers, the old Ramshackle dormitory began to shake and transform in sinister and fascinating ways before his eyes. Walls contorted, furniture came to life, and the abandoned place metamorphosed into a lively castle, with sparkling towers and enchanted gardens. The magic of the falling star had awakened the true essence of the place, revealing its hidden beauty.
The animated castle, now filled with the dark aura of the shooting star, rose majestically from the ground, its dark towers rising like sharp claws against the starry sky. The enchanted garden has turned into a maze of thorns and shadows, where unknown creatures lurk in the shadows, watching with glowing, hungry eyes.
“H-henchman! What is happening??"
With an enigmatic smile on her lips, Yuu looked at Grim, whose gaze reflected a mixture of fear and confusion. "Let's go home," she whispered, her voice echoing like a whisper of unknown magic. The cat nodded silently and ran to the girl's shoulders, saving his questions for later, because maybe later Yuu wouldn't be looking like a crazy woman with a flying Ramsharckle.
The old Ramsharckle dorm floated to where the two were and the door opened waiting for the two to climb up to finally grant the previously magicless girl's heart's desire.
“I'll come back to say goodbye later”
Who knows if she would come back who knows if not
She looked back one last time, remembering her adventures with the troublemaking cat and all the friends she made there. And with a firm step the girl went up in her castle and felt more ready than ever to embark on this adventure.
As the castle floated toward the distant horizon, the lights of shooting stars and meteorites hovered above them, shrouding them in a veil of mystery and intrigue. Yuu felt a shiver run down his spine, but also a sense of determination and courage that had long been forgotten.
And so, enveloped by the darkness of the starry night and the sinister magic of the falling star, Yuu and Grim set out on a journey into the unknown, where ancient secrets and intertwined destinies awaited them in the shadows of their path. Amidst the darkness and starlight, Yuu and Grim's journey was just beginning, with the power of the shooting star guiding their steps towards their final destination.
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(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥
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neasoxi · 4 months
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I need more space for my books.
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m-ayo-o · 5 months
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hi i really love your work 🥹 if the emoji event's still open may i humbly request 🍒🐱💜......
tytyty yes... wrote this one too quick oops :s emoji event : 🍒🐱💜 18+ virgin kitty reader x 21+ megumi -toy use, squirting, breeding.. don't even.. look at me. bye hybrid fics
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"For a pretty little kitty, you sure are curious, hm?"
Your owner strokes your soft ears as you gently paw at his crotch, perching between his spread legs.
"Kitty, baby, you know you can't touch me there," he chastises, making you pause momentarily, only to start up your soft massaging again when his attention returns to his book.
Then he feels something warmer.. and wetter.
He lets out a little sigh, watching you kiss and lick him through his shorts, putting down his book to give you his full attention.
"Is it really that time of the month already?"
You nod, batting your lashes, as if you could convince him to give you what you really need.
"We can get those toys you like- the ones in your dresser, ok?"
He instructs you to go and get them, to use them on yourself like usual.
"I want owner... to do it..." you plead between your kitten licks.
"Baby, I can't-" he's explained this to you before. Good owners don't do things like that with their darling kitty girls.
"But-but... I need it..."
He knows it's only natural for his feline sweetheart to want this. But giving you what you want would be crossing a certain line.
"Owner, it hurts," you look so endearing you're going to break his heart.
"Where- does it hurt, princess?"
You take one hand and stroke down between your legs.
"I-it feels so hot.. w-won't stop.."
Your voice is making him weak. You can tell by the look in his eyes.
His hand snakes into your hair and you swear he's about to pull you closer, but he only strokes behind your ear instead.
"Baby, get the toys." He says firmly.
"Will owner- at least do it with me?"
"Mm, I'll hold your hand."
~
"Doing so well," his voice is so soft and calm as he slots the dildo further inside you, "keep taking it, baby."
He couldn't just sit there and watch you struggle, so hand holding quickly turned into kissing- which he sometimes allows- then he finally took the toy from you and said that he could do it better.
He gets it fully inside you, starting to fuck your pretty kitty pussy with his free hand gently placed over your neck, where you're splayed out on the bed with your collar on.
"Megumi.. d-doesn't feel right-" you tell him with a sniffle, "'s- 's too cold, and.. not deep enough."
He closes his eyes now. He wishes he could block out your cute voice, too. But he can't. So he listens to you whimper and complain that the dildo isn't good enough, how you're still needy for more, and how badly you want him.
"Megumi, I, I know you're bigger.." your eyes drift to the swell his shorts are failing to conceal.
"Know you would feel better, ple-"
You're cut off by a firm hand over your mouth. His other pulls out the toy, leaving your pussy gaping and wet.
"Baby," his breathing has got all heavy. He sounds a bit scary. "Baby, you can't do this to me."
He bites his lip. He knows he shouldn't take it out on you.
"The way you're begging is making me..." he looks down at his boner that's about to slip out any second, "crazy."
"m-mmh-mm"
He knows nobody has ever touched you there before, aside from the toys you use to keep your urges at bay. But nobody has gone inside with their fingers, their tongue... or cock.
"You want it that badly?"
You nod, a little nervously.
He pulls down his shorts and your eyes go wide.
"ff-- mmh- mmm-!"
"Baby, shh, please," you watch him tug himself a few times, "it's already hard enough, don't make it any worse."
He warns you, then releases your mouth. You take in little gasps, watching him get in position, lifting your legs up by the back of your knees.
"Just be a good kitty," he places the tip of his cock on you now, for the first time, "lie still and let me... let me take care of you."
Even though you had a dildo in you moments ago, it really is no comparison to the real thing; to Megumi. He's so much thicker, he has to work you open slowly, making you let out little pained whimpers and scratch at his arms.
"It's gonna be ok, it's ok, when I get inside- ugh, it's gonna feel so good, baby, trust me."
He comforts you and slides in inch by inch, fucking you slow and steady, until his body is flush with yours.
"That's it," he looks down, stroking gently at your stomach, "do you feel full now?"
"Uh huh" you nod, looking a little pained.
He intended to stay still for longer, but he just has to move, he has to feel you work up and down his shaft until you start sobbing.
"S-sorry- baby, feels too good... I can't stop now-" his voice is deep and breathy. You watch lust take over his body and he pushes you hard into the mattress, pressing your legs back to get closer.
"A-ahh!!!"
"Said you wanted it- deeper.."
You can feel every inch of him now, stinging right at the back, then sliding in and out, slowly, nudging a sensitive spot in your core, then slipping through your entrance. He was right, you're so glad you trust your kind owner- it's starting to feel amazing.
"W-warm- soo warm, so- so-"
You can't articulate how you feel. It's hard to describe. You feel wetter than you ever have, paired with this deep, humming heat that builds with his every thrust and erotic groan. You've never heard him like this before, and it's making you fall more in love with your perfect owner by the second.
"M-Megumi feels- feels like I, I'm gonna- gonna- ah!"
He looks nearly as surprised as you, feeling your gushing, warm juices all over his lower stomach and pelvis.
"Baby, shit- you fucking squirted for me- oh, that's-" he's never seen a girl do this before, "so fucking hot"
"Megumi- owner, owner, you- you feel harder, oh, oh my god- it, it feels too big-!"
"Yeah, that's 'cause- I'm gonna cum now-"
He groans and fills you deep and hard, pressing your knees right to the mattress next to your ears, his movements getting slow and sensual till he's resting his spent body on one arm.
"Fuck-" your chests press together so close, you can feel each other's racing hearts. And he pulls out so slow, watching you drip and spill all the gooey liquid he put there.
"Princess, you need to hurry and clean up or-"
"Will I have your babies?" You voice is suddenly bright and filled with excitement as you pull him in again.
"I think your birth control works.. quite well. But- I don't know-"
"Sh-should we do it again? So I can have your babies, inside me?"
"No, no, princess, you don't want- mm!"
You pull him into a kiss, getting his tip inside you again, making his eyes roll back with another deep groan.
"Fuck- really? You want it again?"
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megumi | m.list
i think this event is now closed unless anyone has any particularly amazing megumi req combos :3 tysm
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open-benefit · 5 days
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