I NEED HIM

luigi is MY MAN

thats the poll. please reblog

*cough*

its me. im the girl

Jason Todd rugby player AU…

No one questions his physical build anymore. They just assume he worked for it as he played and improved his skills.

Bumps and bruises gained as Red Hood are easily explained away with a word: “Rugby.”

Plus, the girl cheering him on during every game makes sure he survives his nightly duties and knows he has someone on his team, no matter what uniform he wears.

i’ll update when i wake up

may we all wake up tomorrow with less heavy hearts

i love this woman more than anything

evergreen

jacob elordi 50’s heart throb ♥️📽️🍸

(An:this gif right here>>>>>>>)

Tease | Bucky Barnes

“You wanna be a good girl for me right?”

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings! NSFW 17+, penetrative sex, pet names, choking, fingering (Fem receiving), dirty talk, lots of teasing, orgasm denial.

Word count: 3k

* ┉ˏ͛ ༝̩̩̥͙ ⑅͚˚　　 ҉　　⑅͚˚ ͛༝̩̩̥͙ ˎ┉

"Mornin' doll."

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, feeling a soft gaze fan over her face, the sun peaking through the curtains. James placed a soft kiss in her forehead, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “Mornin’.” She smiled, nuzzling into his bare chest. She lay her head down, listening intently to the soft and steady beat of his heart, she could lay there for hours. “We gotta get up. It’s almost seven and i have a meeting at ten.” She mumbled, his chin resting on top of her head. “We could just stay here, forever.” he whispered , feeling her cheek against his chest, never wanting her to leave. She chuckled quietly, as he shuffled under the covers and looked into her eyes. “That’s cute but I've got things to do, Barnes” she whispered, as he rubbed his hand up and down her waist. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to get lost in his touch. “Y/n, please.” he looked at her, his eyes pleading for her to do something, anything. “No can do James.” she said, getting up and heading off to shower. He laughed breathlessly as she sauntered off to the bathroom, her hips swaying seductively.

She turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before stepping in. She stood under the water for a few seconds before she heard the shower curtain open and felt a pair of hands on her waist. She smiled to herself, leaning back against his chest, embracing the warmth of his body. The silence was peaceful until he began to leave a trail of kisses from the back of her neck down to her shoulder. "james. What are you doing back there?" she asked, knowing exactly what answer she was going to get. "Nothing, just appreciating your beauty." he mumbled between kisses. She chuckled lightly, grabbing some soap and washing herself down. "Okay sure. But make sure it's nothing more than that, Barnes." she said sternly, sensing the pout on his lips. "Yes ma'am." he laughed, placing a kiss on the sensitive skin where her shoulder met her neck. She held back a moan, inhaling deeply through her nose instead, making Bucky grin with triumph. "Behave yourself James." she scolded, silently wishing he'd kiss her again.

They hopped pout of the shower, wrapping towels around themselves and going to get changed. James threw on a pair of sweatpants and his dog tags, throwing himself at their bed. Y/n walked to her closet, rummaging through the countless number of formal dresses and suits that she owned. She decided on a pair of black flared pants, a corset-esque top and a black blazer. She smoothed down her pants, feeling hppy with her choice, she looked hot. She sat down at her vanity, prepping her face for her makeup. She felt Bucky's lingering gaze on her, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Had she worn a suit and corset top on purpose, of course she had. It drove James insane when she did, and that's exactly what she wanted. She spent a good forty five minutes applying her makeup, making sure she looked as good as humanly possible for this meeting. "Babe? How do I look?" she asked, turning around, smiling to herself when he couldn't even speak.

He stood up, walking over to her. His hands- as they always did- went straight to her hips, pulling her toward him. "God you have no idea how badly i want you right now." he spoke in a sultry- almost pleading- tone. She chuckled at his neediness , pushing him backward onto the bed. She crawled toward him, straddling his waist, her ass on his cock. SHe could feel how hard he was through his sweats, the effect on him she had made her smile. A low groan left Bucky's lips as she began grinding on him, feeling him harden even more underneath her. She tilted his head upward so he was looking into her eyes, kissing him hard and full of lust. She put her left hand on his throat squeezing a little, the whiny sounds he made had her blushing with excitement. He broke the kiss, moaning loudly and almost uncontrollably as they ground their hips against each other.

"I'm gonna cum." he whined, looking up at her with desperate eyes that slowly dimmed as he no longer felt the friction of y/n's hips against his own. "That's a shame because I've got to go darling." she smiled, standing up and smoothing herself down. Bucky looked at her in disbelief. "You can't just leave me here." he whined, she laughed at his flustered and submissive state. "Take a cold shower." she said snarkily before kissing him on his jawline, making him shudder. "I'll be home around two, okay baby?" she smiled, walking out to her car.

James spent the day thinking about how badly he wanted her. he wanted his hands on her hips, her boobs her ass. he wanted to feel her cunt stretched out around him, to feel her nails scratching at his back. God he could cum just thinking about it. He needed her to get home. He lay sprawled out on the couch, waiting. And waiting. And waiting for what seemed like forever. He huffed as he saw the time, 2:00. Y/n should be here any second he thought to himself, sitting upright on the couch. He smiled excitedly, waiting for her to come through the door so he could have her.

It angered him how she left him there, unsatisfied. He wanted to teach her a lesson. He wanted to get her so close to the edge and just leave her there, wet and needy, begging like a little slut. He sent a text to Sam asking if he wanted to go out, to which he answered 'Yeah i'll be there in 20 minutes.' He smiled to himself as his plan was in action. The front door opened, revealing y/n looking as if she were ready to go straight back to bed. "Hey doll. How was your meeting?" he asked lovingly. "Awful!" She went to the cupboard, grabbing a bottle of wine and a couple glasses. "Ugh have I told you how much I hate men . They're so gross and perverted. No offence babe." she ranted, giving him a kiss on his lips before sitting down next to him and opening the bottle. "None taken baby." he answered, eyeing her up. Her top made her boods look perky and so soft, her stomach was just a little bit exposed and she smelt like heaven. "They were all looking at me like- like the way you're looking at me right now." she explained, noticing the lustful look in James' eyes. "Are you slutting me out right now Sergeant Barnes?" she asked, taking a sip from her glass. "Yes." he answered simply, grabbing her glass and setting it down on the coffee table. "I just missed you so much today doll." he said, looking her in the eyes, never breaking the intense eye contact.

"That's cute. I see you never resolved your little problem. Want me to lend a hand?" she asked, placing her hand on his crotch and palming him through his sweatpants. "Actually I want you to feel good. Your pleasure is my pleasure after all." he said, all the while slowly moving so he was whispering directly into her ear. She kissed him, grabbing his face with both her hands and pressing their lips together in a feverish embrace. Bucky got between her legs- without breaking the kiss- his thigh right up against her pussy. She began grinding down on his thigh, moaning hard into the kiss. “Please make me cum. I wanna cum.” she whimpered against him, looking up into his eyes as she rubbed herself against him. “Take of your clothes babe, take em all off.” he moaned, kissing her one last time and stepping away from her. James watched as she regathered herself, breathing hard, legs spread.

She shimmied out of her pants, her underwear going too. She took off her top, her boobs bouncing a little as she did so. “Sit down princess. I want you to touch yourself for me.” he instructed, loving how she smiled at the nickname. She sat down on the couch, spreading her legs, her whole pussy on display. She sucked on her two middle fingers before slowly sliding them in, one by one, increasing the speed of her thrusts every few seconds. Bucky sat back on the couch opposite, his legs spread, slowly growing more aroused by the second by her moans, her heavy breathing, the sloppy and wet sounds of her fingers in her pussy, all of it. "You sound so pretty love. Keep fucking yourself like that. Just like that." He encouraged, placing his metal hand on his cock through his sweats.

She closed her legs a little, the pleasure being an overwhelming sensation. "Uh uh baby, spread those legs. I want to see you.” he moaned, wanting to see all of her. “Fuck you look so good. So pretty. Go on, love. Touch yourself for me." He coaxed, watching as she licked her middle and ring finger and began playing with her clit. She tried to muffle her moans in embarrassment, only for Bucky to say: "No no baby, I want to hear you. You wanna be a good girl for me right? Be as loud as you want love." He encouraged her gently.

She slipped her fingers back in and began curling them upward, stroking herself, rolling her eyes back in ecstasy. "I want you to fuck yourself on your fingers love, i want you to make yourself cum all over those pretty fingers of yours, make a mess love." He said, walking over to her and pressing a few kisses to her neck and forehead. He brought his Vibranium hand up to her neck, choking her lightly. Y/n moaned and threw her head back. She kissed him, whining into the kiss. "Fuck baby. You're so hot. Keep doing that." He said, sliding his hand down her body and grabbing her boob. He played with her nipple, massaging the soft flesh.

"Bucky, I'm gonna cum." She whined as her orgasm neared. James smiled as he heard a knock at the door. “Sorry princess. I promised Sam I'd hang out.” he smiled, kissing her lips before getting up. “Please don’t go. I wanna be a good girl for you. Please James.” She pleaded against his lips, sliding her hands under his shirt and tracing her fingers along his abs. He looked down at her, cursing his inability to say no to her, especially when she looked so desperate and needy. “Fuck, doll. Gimme one sec.” he huffed, walking to the door.

“Hey man. You ready to go or what?” Sam asked, his shades on despite the horrible weather.

“Sorry man. Y/n’s not feeling too good. I gotta stay and take care of her.” he lied. He did it so well that Sam didn’t even question it, he just wished them well and was on his way.

James made his way from the door over to y/n. He pulled her toward him, his soft lips against hers again, his hand around her neck, her hands in his hair. “Bedroom. Now.” he mumbled into the kiss, watching as she walked away seductively. “She’s gonna be the death of me.” he smiled to himself, pulling his shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the living room before heading off to their bedroom.

When he walked into the bedroom, he was delighted to see y/n sitting patiently on the edge of the bed, fidgeting as she tried to ignore how obviously horny she was. James climbed onto the bed and sat up against the headboard, signalling for her to sit between his legs. She did, resting her back on his chest, closing her eyes as he kissed up her shoulder and her neck. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.” he praised as she just sat there and enjoyed his embrace. His hand slithered down her body and down her right thigh, moving closer and closer to where she wanted him.

He teased her cunt with the two middle fingers on his right hand, smiling as she pleaded for him to do something, anything. “Please~.” She cried as he rubbed her clit. She looked up at him, immeadiatley closing her eyes as she felt his fingers inside of her. Her mouth fell open slightly, a small moan lef her lips as he thrusted his fingers in and out of her.

“Fuck baby. You're so wet." he smiled down at her, curling his fingers and watching as her eyes rolled back, and her moans got louder. She began rubbing her clit as his fingers thrusted in and out of her pussy. He continued to work his fingers into her as she moaned and pushed back on him.

“James please. I wanna feel you. Let me feel you.” she begged as he took his fingers out of her.

He brought his soaked fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean and watching her writhe with anticipation. “Sit on my lap princess. I want you to ride me.” he said, kissing the shell of her ear as he said so. She straddled his waist as she had done before she left for work. He lined his cock up with her cunt and held onto her hand. he looked up at her with desperate pleading eyes. "Please." He whispered, almost inaudibly. He nodded, kissing her hand as she sank down onto him with a quiet moan, feeling him push the whole way in; her moans like music to him. She clenched around him, trying to adjust. He hugged her waist and buried his face in her chest kissing her boobs softly. "I wanna fuck you so bad. I wanna hear you beg and scream for me y/n. please. let me fuck you." he begged looking up at her. She smiled down at him, nodding and kissing him.

"Fuck. that feels so good." he moaned as she began to move her hips. he was so deep in side her and was hitting all the right places. it was almost impossible to keep her moans in. He thrusted his hips upward into her meeting her halfway as she bounced upand down on his lap. She closed her eyes for a moment, throwing her head back as she felt Bucky's hands on her boobs, her left nipple sat comfortably between his lips. He began sucking on her nipple as he fucked her, making her moan at the feeling of his lips on her breast. She rolled her hips on his cock, making him release her nipple from his mouth and lean his head back in ecstasy. He thrusted up into her pussy, his hands lifting her ass up and down onto his cock. He was moaning loudly, incoherent curses tumbling clumsily from his lips. He held her hips in place and began thrusting fast and hard into her, her thighs shaking from the pleasure.

“Tell me how good it feels baby.” he groaned, grabbing her face and forcing her to look at him. His eyes seemed to sparkle with lust, and pleasure making her clench around him and moan in response. "C'mon doll. Use your words for me." he said in a soft, sultry tone, wrapping a hand round her neck and squeezed lightly. "Fuck. it's good. It feels so so good.” she whined, putting her forehead on his as she said so. "Good girl." he groaned as she continued grinding relentlessly onto his cock. He stopped her movements and gently pushed her backward so she lay flat on her back. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he began thrusting hard into her. She held onto his back muscles with her hands, her nails digging into him- leaving scratches on the skin. James buried his head into the crook of her neck, sucking a couple hickeys onto the soft, tender skin. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." she stuttered, whimpering as he left marks on her skin. "Beg for it. I wanna hear you beg y/n." he smiled sadistically at her, watching the internal battle that happened in her head. He knew how much pride she had, but he also knew how badly she wanted this. "Please Bucky. I wanna cum so bad. Let me cum. please. She whined, looking up at him desperately. He kissed her, thrusting hard and fast into her cunt. "Cum for me y/n. Be a good girl and cum on my cock princess." he whispered in her ear, nibbling the top just a bit.

She came with a loud scream, her legs shaking and her back arching. He kept thrusting hard into her, his eyes closed and his brows furrowed. His dog tags dangled over her as he kept up his relentless thrusts. "I'm so close baby. you're gonna make me cum doll." he groaned, grabbing her boobs and massaging them gently. Y/n was still sensitive from her orgasm, but the feeling of his hands on her boobs made her flip them over so she was riding him again. She began bouncing on his cock, looking down at his pretty fucked out state. His hands settled on her waist as he guided her on his cock, as he drove deeper and deeper into her. "Cum in me please James. I wanna feel your cum inside me." she whined, feeling his cock pulse inside her. He thrusted a few more times before stilling as his cum filled her up. She collapsed onto him, allowing him to stroke her hair and whisper to her. “Fuck. that was so good. You did so good baby. My good girl.” he mumbled, his lips on top of her head, kissing her between every word. She moaned quietly, his cock still buried inside her. “Come on we’re gonna have a shower.” he smiled, pulling out of her with a quiet groan. “Come on princess.”he nudged her, but she just huffed and said “I don’t wanna, can we just lay here and cuddle please?”, an innocent look in her eyes. “You really are gonna be the death of me Doll.” he smiled, kissing her head.

My tags :

Oooohhh my shaylaaaaaaa

been listening to sombr loads recently and if i said he’s regulus black coded😏

WHAT THE FUCK?!?!? AND IM JUST SUPPOSED TO LIVE MY LIFE KNOWING THIS EXISTS??? NO FUCKING WAY.

baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

1/2: i'm gonna talk you through it [SMUT]

Summary: You're the daughter of one of Henrys, and known to be a snobby, entitled Princess of a woman; neither Venetia nor Felix seems to like you. Farleigh, however, claims that you and he have an ongoing arrangement. Felix says that arrangement is that you and Farleigh bitch together, then fuck like wild animals every time you hang out. Turns out you're even bitchier in person, and after a cruel joke played on Oliver by you and Farleigh at the Henrys dinner, he decides to take a bit of power back. Not that it goes as intended... nor that it goes completely wrong.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, demeaning talk, bondage & restraints, explicit discussions around safewords (it does happen a little bit into the action but before anything major), pet name used for the reader "princess"

A/N: 4730 words. okay turns out i can write pwp. i cut out like 1.5k of background and you get the gist of it in the summary. there will be a part 2 thats heavy on the smut, but this trio takes a while to set anything up because they can't stop arguing. hints of farleigh/oliver. this was a lot of fun but again i can't stress how long its been since ive written full, proper smut, so id really appreciate feedback. <3 unedited, i love you.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Fucking Farleigh Start. Oliver feels the fury as it burns and bubbles inside of him, stalking quietly through the halls of Saltburn. There, at the end of the hall, Farleigh's bedroom door, quiet and unassuming, and right next to it, Oliver's target; your door. Farleigh isn't the only one in the house who can wrap people around his little finger; he isn't the only one in the house who can get the Princess to kneel.

Trying the handle, he finds it unlocked, and eases the old, wooden door open.

"Farleigh was right," upon hearing your voice, bright, amused, and very much awake in the dark, Oliver jumps, "you're an A-plus lurker, I didn't even hear you come in."

"Was a nasty thing you did to me tonight," Oliver tries to regain some of his composure, some of the ire he'd built up on the way here.

"So you've snuck into my room, I assume you assumed I was asleep, to- what, wake me up and berate me?" There's something smug and biting in your voice, something that fuels the fury coiling deep in his gut, "that doesn't sound like enough for someone like you, tricksie, little, pauper boy." When you start to move from where you've been sitting up in bed, crawling to the end to sit on your knees as the moonlight streaks through your window and finally paints you in sharp relief, he sees you're already nude.

But even your stunning body in the moonlight cannot compare to the look on your face, the sharp, hungry, mean amusement he's never seen a person wear so well.

"Go on then, shout," your eyes shine dangerously in the moonlight; "don't you want Farleigh to hear?" They might have been right. You might be the devil. Your smile gets wider, and Oliver can only watch, rather transfixed, as you start rolling your hips with purpose, "or do you want him to hear something else?" He hears, quietly at first, a soft tap, getting louder as you keep insistently thrusting against the air, against the mattress, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall behind it, the wall that you shared with Farleigh on the other side.

Then, all at once, you stopped. A loud, mean laugh is pulled from you as you pitch yourself back on the bed, kicking your legs out in front of you to hang off the edge, completely relaxed, completely exposed. You give a loud, amused sigh, looking up at the canopy of the four poster bed.

"God, you're such a little bitch, Oliver, Farleigh was so right," you snorted, "I was the one who actually saw you eating Venetia like your life depended on it, on the lawn of all places," you shook your head, "I don't know what you told Felix to get out of that one but I know what I saw," clicking your tongue, you raised your leg, pointing a foot at him, not even bothering to look at him, "now you won't even touch me in my own bedroom when I'm practically begging for it. I'm choosing to be offended about that; you've offended me, Oliver."

Slowly, your leg lowers, and you kick your heels idly against the end of the bed in the silence.

"Where do you get all your attitude from?" Oliver finally speaks, tone turning scornful as he approached you.

"The money," you fire back with ease, "which is why you always seem to have none." Then, in the furious silence that followed, you grinned sharply at the roof, still not bothering to look at him, "try harder."

When he touches your knee, his fingers gentle against your skin, you kick him hard in the thigh with your other foot -

"The fuck? Did you just kick me?"

"Yeah, and?" He can almost hear you rolling your eyes, "what did you think it was, the wind? Ghost of Grandma Catton?"

"Do you fuckin' want me or not?" He's still standing within kicking range, he learns too late. All the while you've never even looked at him, always looking at the ceiling, hands comfortably, casually behind your head. There's a smug grin on your lips now, something teasing and once more mean.

"Do you want me?" You respond, legs gliding open, an open invitation to your slick, moon-drenched cunt, "I thought you wanted to use me to get back at Farleigh," you said mockingly, finally looking up and meeting his deep, furious gaze. Propped up on your elbows, you give a grin that's all teeth, "wanted to show us who has the real power, that you can get us back for the stunt we pulled after dinner," you sat up further, intense, hungry amusement in your eyes that drew Oliver in to you, leaning in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you were almost nose to nose. Your voice lowers, gaze on his lips as your voice turns to almost a moan, "wanted to show Farleigh that you could take anything he thought was his; even me," and you start fake moaning, softly at first, but getting exponentially louder as you leaned back again, against the bed, arching and writhing from nothing, putting on a show that ended with you shouting - "Oliver's a fucking bitch!" At the top of your lungs, and cackling with glee.

Rage exploded within Oliver, and for a moment, overcome with a strange sense of betrayal at your demonstration, he smacks at your inner thigh with all the might he can muster. He can tell it stings, your laughter stops for just a moment, leg flinching up for just a second, but then you're laughing harder if possible.

"Your first mistake - of many - was letting her talk at all," Farleigh's voice from the door is frankly annoyed. You, however, gasp with delight, sitting directly up and looking at Farleigh with absolute glee.

"That's not his fault, I wasn't going to tell him," you pointed out, before looking down at your thighs, and Oliver's hands still on them, and the part of you that must have still stung from the slap, "why is your grip so soft?" You looked up at him with a derisive expression, and immediately Oliver's grip on you goes tight, nails digging into your skin; you're fucking laughing at him again, still, "awe, you're getting there -"

"Could you stop that already?" Oliver leans in, scowling at you. Eyebrows raising in mock surprise, you grinned with devilish intent.

"Stop what?"

"All that fuckin' talking you're doing."

"I don't know, can I -?" But then out of seemingly nowhere, Farleigh sits himself down at the end of the bed next to you, flush against your side. He's still in his crisp, white shirt, and black slacks, looking so put together next to your brash nudity. When his hand comes up to your jaw, barely two fingers beneath your chin to guide you, to have you looking him in the eyes, you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. Both he and Oliver can see how badly you want to laugh, to make any kind of sound, but you hold yourself back.

"Okay, your fucking highness," Farleigh's voice is low and dangerous, full of warning, and Oliver sees you take a sharp breath in, gaze fixed on Farleigh's, "you don't get shit from either of us if you can't keep your dirty mouth closed." Though you nod adamantly, you puff out your cheeks, amusement in your eyes as you're clearly desperate to say something; "what?" Farleigh frowns.

"I have really bad news for you about what I have to do to suck dick," you point out, trying to keep your composure. It's not working, giggles are escaping you at a rapid rate.

"You are testing nerves I didn't even know I had," Oliver admits, desperately trying to sink his nails into you as hard as he could. If he could draw blood, perhaps that would be enough penance for having to endure your infuriating company.

However, it's Farleigh who speaks, lip curling with frustration as he smacks Oliver's hand away from the thigh closest to him. With a solid grip on that thigh, he pulls you leg close to him, forcing your legs wider, exposing you further.

"Then do something about it," he practically orders, and something about the tone sparks a kind of indignation in his chest, "you need me to talk you through it?" He snaps. This, however, quickly turns smug and mean as Farleigh leans in, nose to nose with Oliver and his building frustration with them both; "you know how to eat pussy, right?"

"You should both be very careful what you wish for," Oliver's eyes flash with a dangerous confidence as he sank down on his knees between your legs. You, thrilled and delighted by how the situation was no unfolding, lay yourself back on the bed with contented laughter, hands coming to rest confidently behind your head once more.

Farleigh watches Oliver with intense scrutiny, and for reasons he's not quite sure of, Oliver meets his gaze, refuses to break eye contact. His hand moves first, no longer holding your left thigh, he digs his elbow into your soft inner thigh, bracing his arm against you, forcing your leg further open and keeping it that way, letting him comfortably rest his hand with his thumb on your clit.

"Smart boy," you hum appreciatively, shifting your hips back and forth a little as his thumb is rubbing circles against your clit, "knows where the start button is." He takes his thumb off of you, much to your confusion. His gaze is still locked with Farleigh's. "Fucking hell, are you tired already -?" You sat up on your elbows, scowling at him, but Oliver looks sharply to you.

"Weren't you listening to Farleigh, princess?" Oliver asks, and there's something so deliciously satisfying about the look of flustered surprise on your face in this moment. Beside you, Farleigh huffs a laugh to himself and stands, pulling off his tie. Oliver's full attention, however, is still trained on your. Slowly, as he speaks, he again begins to rub circles against your clit, teasing, never enough proper pressure to be satisfying.

"I -" you started, but he immediately stopped again; out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver sees Farleigh's approving nod. Something about this all has his blood rushing in his fucking ears. You press your lips together, giving him a now expectant look, as if here, I've done what you've asked.

You're so wet, so wanting, ready and waiting, right thigh inching closer, leg curling around him, heel pressing insistently into his back. God you look so fucking good, he wants nothing more than to eat you like a man starving, tasting every inch of you -

"Give me your belt," Farleigh interrupts, and Oliver pauses, mouth literally an inch from your cunt, looking up at Farleigh like he can't quite believe him right now.

"Farleigh!" You exclaim with utter frustration, right leg lashing out to kick him, but he grabs your ankle and holds it tightly. With his free hand he makes an expectant, grabby hand at Oliver.

"Belt, now please." He practically orders.

"Use your own belt, Farleigh," Oliver nods to the belt Farleigh had just tossed to the side of the room, and Farleigh gives him a thin, unamused smile.

"Mine's nicer, and I don't want your cum on it," he explained with a mean, humourless smile. Oliver sat back for a long, furious moment, undoing his belt. The minute his hands were off of you, you tried to whine, but Farleigh, now just in his boxers, sat further up the bed beside you.

"This is overkill, I'll be good," you pouted, twisting to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him with as pleading eyes as you could manage.

"You're not even being good right now," he pointed out; "both your thighs are over Oliver's fucking shoulders, and you haven't gone thirty seconds without saying something," but clearly you're pleased and flustered at being called out. Farleigh says your name more insistently, and you try and play innocent before he practically orders, "get your fucking legs off of him!" Like he can't quite believe you're still trying these tricks, even though you both seem comfortable in this dynamic.

"Oliver~" Farleigh then practically sings like a warning, gaze turning much colder as it falls back on Oliver himself, "where are we with that belt?"

"What's it for anyways?" Oliver finally pulls his belt free, awkwardly half throwing it to Farleigh, who does actually thank him, before his attention is back on you, bare and warm and wet and - "princess," he says suddenly before Farleigh can even answer his initial question, looking up, and you make a noise of acknowledgement, "you want me to touch you like I mean it, then keep your legs spread like you actually fucking want it," voice going low and sharp, immediately you widen your legs as best you can.

"Oh, he's good," Farleigh says, surprisingly appreciatively, watching as Oliver makes a meal of you.

Finally, finally, Oliver's mouth is on you, tongue gliding playfully along your slit, his nose continually bumping his thumb as it continues to work your clit, firmer this time. You hips wriggle and roll with him, desperate for more, growing frustrated with his teasing lightness.

"The belt can be for several things," Farleigh began, matter-of-factly as he began to loop the belt through itself, focusing on his task at hand, "if she insists on closing her legs, I'm not above using both belts to make sure she keeps them open - this bedframe's especially good for that -" a hot spike of desire passes through Oliver all at once, picturing you bound and open and begging -

"Oh, don't joke about that Farleigh, come on, you know I love that -" you actually whimpered, but Oliver, still keeping in mind the earlier warning, once more stops entirely. You gasp, as if betrayed, before remembering for yourself, actually whining, "you guys fucking suck," you whimper petulantly. For a moment, Oliver wonders if he really aught to be here, if this strange, psychosexual encounter was really worth it.

"You're fucking loving this," Farleigh countered without a moment of hesitation, saying it with such confidence that it almost surprised Oliver, "you just hate that you can't shut the fuck up for any amount of time, and that Oliver isn't actually as much of a little bitch as you thought," clearing his throat, Farleigh cast an evaluative look, before trying to shrug it off nonchalantly, "as either of us thought, I guess."

A moment of quiet stillness passes, and Oliver looks to you, face scrunched up with embarrassment, as all of Farleigh's words apparently rang true.

"Are you hourly, Oliver?" Farleigh then scowls, much to Oliver's confusion. Farleigh looks at him like he's a downright idiot, "the princess is actually being quiet, which means..." he trailed off pointedly. Oliver sat back on his heels, frowning at Farleigh for a long moment, his hands coming to rest on your knees. You, yet again growing incredibly unsatisfied, groaned into your hands.

"Not if you're gonna talk to me like that," Oliver takes a deep breath, sitting tall, gaze unflinching as he meets Farleigh's sneering gaze.

"Then fuck off, Little Orphan Ollie, we don't need you," he spits, "you should really feel lucky that you even got this far -"

"You're all talk, Farleigh," Oliver, with a newfound confidence, and his hands on you, rubbing small, gentle circles against your inner thighs with his thumbs. Farleigh's eyes narrow, but Oliver's smile turns knowing, "I know you can throw her around, and tie her up, and give her orders, clearly," he tips his head ever so slightly to the side, gaze slipping to you, to where you've still got your face covered by your hands, "but we both know no-one can speak for her, but her."

The faint, frustrated whimpering that had been escaping you this entire time goes dead silent. Oliver feels the way you go very still. Farleigh, realising what Oliver meant, also turned to look at you properly.

"'s your bedroom, princess," Oliver leans in, presses a kiss to your inner thigh, murmuring softly against your skin, "what do you think?"

"I think you're edging each other with psychosexual, power-play, bullshit-banter that's doing fucking nothing for me," you snap behind your hands, "and I'm gonna start kicking people again very soon," you warned. Farleigh rolled his eyes.

"Sit up," he sighed.

"No."

"Make a choice," Oliver told you, tone firmer this time.

"Also no." Your voice was sounding particularly petulant, and you even brought your knees together, closing yourself off in front of Oliver. After a long, vaguely irate silence, Farleigh takes a deep breath.

"Is something wrong? Are we at a yellow light? Red light?" He asks, tone far gentler, he leans over, fingers gentle against your hairline by your fingertips.

"Light... colours?" Oliver asks with genuine confusion. Farleigh is far less patient when he turns on Oliver, like he's frustrated to even be explaining this.

"Like a traffic light; instead of a safety word like pineapple, we have green - go, yellow - slow down, red - stop," said like he wanted to include duh, obviously on the end, but refrained, turning back to you.

"And... they're for her?" Intrigued and surprisingly endeared by the concept, Oliver leans forward with a little smile, resting his chin on one of your knees, looking between yourself and Farleigh. He watches you sigh, even with your hands over your face.

"How do you not know how safe words work? What kind of sex have you been having?" Farleigh's judgemental tone hits Oliver square in the chest, but before he can even answer, you finally sit up, expression wide and overwhelmed with frustration.

"Farleigh look at him; he's like if they made repression a person! He's been having the most boring, vanilla sex known to man - if any - and getting off in his spare time to things that would make God cry. Look him in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong -" Farleigh's gaze flicked to Oliver, who suddenly felt himself begin to flush scarlet, and had to sit back again, frowning at his hands. There was something about the shame at being so concisely called out that was... thrilling. Something about how clearly you could see through him, through his persona to the raw want at his very core, it was freeing. You sat up further, with purpose, grabbing Oliver's chin so roughly it shocked him, forcing him to look in your eyes for a long moment.

"You came in here with purpose thinking I was asleep; creepy, hot, deranged; I'm into it," you told him sternly, "I literally could not care less about you otherwise, you're nothing to me the rest of the time. You came here to put me in my place, I don't want you here if you can't do that." Fucking hell, Oliver can feel his heartbeat racing as you shove his face away, your expression almost bordering on disgust.

"So you're..." Farleigh, as if frustrated by this little tirade you saw fit to go on, was unimpressed as he once more checked in.

"Green light, obviously," you threw your hands into the air in exasperation, "it's like you've never met me before -" but before you can slump back against the bed like you so clearly wanted to, Farleigh catches you, shifts behind you to prop you up.

"You're a brat," Oliver says, finally finding the words for the dynamic, and rather charmed by it all. Still, Farleigh has to get a word in edgewise.

"How long 'd it take you to figure that out?" He muttered sarcastically, doing something behind your back while you made a show of struggling and wiggling, refusing to keep your left arm with whatever he was doing.

"So," Oliver clarified, testing out the code, "green light?" You grinned at him, giving a pleased nod. Farleigh, finally having caught your left hand seemingly for good, reiterates the statement distractedly. Then, with a sense of triumph and relief, he pulls the belt, and his makeshift handcuffs, tight.

"Why are you still dressed?" You ask Oliver sharply. You may have had a point, but the game was back on. With your hands secured, Farleigh sat back behind you on the bed, pulling you flush to him, arms secured and pressed between the two of you that was just edging on uncomfortable.

"Why are you still talking?" He mutters into your ear, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand coming to wrap over your mouth, while his other curled around your middle, pulling your legs apart, wasting no time in dipping two long, elegant fingers into you. Your eyes light up, gasping against his hand as the two of you watch with lust in your eyes as Oliver begins to undress.

"The belt," Farleigh's voice has that lazy kind of smugness that Oliver usually hated, but now kind of makes his head fuzzy and kind of like he wants to sink his teeth into him, "is to keep the princess in her place, because someone," he says pointedly, not that you seem to notice; your eyes are closed, and Farleigh's thumb is on your clit while the fingers he has inside of you curl lovingly into your sweet spot, "manages to escape every pair of padded handcuffs either of us have ever bought," he explains, turning his attention back to Oliver, "and she complains about metal handcuffs, and zip ties, has undone every rope knot I've ever tied, and ruined every single tie I've ever tried to tie her up with."

"I bought you new ones," your voice is faint, half a moan muffled behind Farleigh's hand, and Oliver, still unsure of how to respond to any of that, finally turns back to the two of you on the bed. There's something desperate about the way you're arching against Farleigh's firm hold on you, legs having fallen open as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, lewd and needy. But Farleigh's eyes are only on Oliver, watching him with hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide, gaze roaming over Oliver's physique.

At the sound of your voice, Farleigh's gaze meets Oliver's his smile widening just a touch before he stops entirely. A desperate keening is pulled from you, hips shifting for friction, for anything, as Farleigh rests his hand on your thigh, fingers slick, practically dripping with you.

"No, I'll be good," you whimper, eyes fluttering, half closed, "I'll be -" you were already breathing heavy, "so so good."

"Hear that?" Farleigh murmurs with a vindictive little smile, hand uncovering your mouth, moving to hold your chin, your mouth falling open in a moan as his nails scratch up your thighs. Oliver advances on you both, entranced by the sight of you both, desperate to have a taste, to play along.

"Think she even knows how to be good?" Oliver teases, once more between your thighs. Still, instead of giving you the same kind of proper relief that Farleigh had been offering, he starts out gentle once more.

"Oliver, you're so cruel," you whimper. Farleigh's hand moves from your jaw to wrap around your middle, holding you secure, while the hand that had sat on your thigh moves to your open mouth, Oliver watches, rapt, as he slides both slick digits past your lips, but it shuts you up well enough, lips closing on his fingers as you diligently lap up your own taste from him.

"See, can't trust a word she says," Farleigh purrs. You bite gently on his fingers as you moan, Oliver finally deciding to do more than just tease you. Oliver's fingers are shorter than Farleigh's, but damn if they can't still hit the same high notes. Curling and pressing in a steady rhythm, he alternates dipping his tongue in as much as he can, and circling your clit. Farleigh's hand has moved from your mouth, spit slicked fingers pinching at your nipples, lightly dragging his nails across your skin, while he's started rolling his hips against your back, cock unbearably hard and still confined to his boxers, pressed against you.

You're whimpering and moaning in his ear, straining against your handcuffs, arching, writhing, but Oliver's holding your thighs still and secure and Farleigh is captivated by how enthusiastically he's going down on you, how its shining on his cheeks, his nose - he reaches out, cards his fingers through Oliver's hair. Oliver looks up through his lashes, a fucking gorgeous sight that you're too lost to appreciate. Just for Farleigh.

God he could say something snide, something about sloppy seconds or something about this being the most expensive meal he'll ever have, but he doesn't. He gives a sly, approving smile, and his grip on Oliver's hair tightens.

"Teeth and tongue," he tells Oliver quietly. Oliver doesn't seem to get it at first, but you choke out a whine, arching further into Farleigh, tipping your head against his.

"That's cheating," you gasped, but Farleigh kept running his fingers through Oliver's hair, whose mouth had never left your cunt, nor his eyes Farleigh's face, "you're helping him cheat; you want me to cum this early?"

"You know what's cheating?" Farleigh once more grabbed your chin, angling your head so you could watch Oliver working hard to get you off, "look at him," Farleigh murmurs in your ear, "eyes open, on his," the commanding tone was hard to refuse, and your eyes fluttered open; the fucking sight of him, a mess between your legs, Farleigh's hand in his hair, was almost enough to send you over the edge, "tell him what I mean."

"Gentle- uh, gentle teeth on me- on my-" you desperately tried to string two words together as Oliver began to get more of an idea. Farleigh's hand on his head becoming more insistent, firmer, nose pressed firm against your skin when he finally took the hint, focusing on your clit, sucking and lapping at it, teeth gently teasing as you completely lost the ability to speak. The rhythm of his fingers was consistent and firm throughout it all, pressing just right -

"Keep your fucking eyes on him," Farleigh ordered, almost snarling it into your ear, "I want you to watch Oliver Quick make you cum." But Oliver had eyes only for him, feeling you clench around his fingers, thighs pressing desperately against his shoulder and the hand that had kept them apart, he could feel Farleigh's nails on his scalp and see the heady, smug pride in his eyes.

As you start to come down, breathing hard and heavy and leaning all your weight against Farleigh, you giggle with out of breath contentment.

"Princess's got not manners," Oliver shook his head with an air of disappointment, and Farleigh smirked, brushing some hair from Oliver's forehead before he reached up and tapped your cheek gently.

"Say thank you, Oliver."

"Thank you, Oliver," you grinned, tone surprisingly sincere, as Oliver crawled up onto the bed beside you both. But there's something dark and hungry in his eyes as he watched you both; reaching out, he presses the fingers against Farleigh's lips, your cum coating them like syrup. Farleigh is more than happy to lick them clean, tongue dancing lewdly around Oliver's digits, all kinds of inuendo and promise in his eyes.

Then, Oliver's attention turns on you something dark, hungry, almost deranged in his eyes. He takes your face in hand.

"And you, princess," he says derisively, not even respecting you enough to look you in the eyes in this moment, "this is not your place that I am putting you in," god it almost sounds like a threat, but you're already squirming with want and anticipation, "but we'll get there," he squeezes your cheeks and your mouth opens on command, tongue as pink and wet and desperate as your cunt had been. He spits in your mouth, sudden sneer curling his lip, blue eyes ice cold and demeaning; "and it's thank you, Oliver Quick."

You feel fucking filthy, can taste yourself in his spit.

You want him to do it again.

"Thank you, Oliver Quick."