🏳️‍🌈Řïṣå🏳️‍🌈

💕22💕 Lesbian, Řïḥ-Ṣųĥ MEN DNI

[maso-risa]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✦MASTERLIST✦*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

all my works

Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader

[You Come Home Late] Dark 18+

Sleepover (18+) Best Friend Natasha

Sleepover (18+) Part 2 Best Friend Natasha

Desires(18+)Stepmom Natasha x Fem Reader

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Step Mom Wanda x Step Daughter Fem Reader (18+)

Say it Properly (18+) Mean!Dom Wanda

Teasing (18+)Soft Dom Wanda x Fem Reader

Dinner (18+) Soft Dom Wanda

Attention (18+)StepMom Wanda x Step Daughter Fem Reader

Rebound (18+) Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Home (18+) Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

UN)WANTED

Beyoncé x Fem Reader

Executive

Rebekah Mikaelson x Fem Reader

Mines to Keep

Gabrielle Sage x Fem Reader

Call

Five More Minutes

Harley Quinn x Fem Reader

Question Lists

List 1

Asks

1.What’s the age range you’re into for older women? just curious 👀

2.What toy do you own that you use the most?

3.How often do you actually masturbate in a week? Be honest.

4.Have you ever squirted/made someone squirt?

5.Are you loud or quiet during sex? What do you sound like?

6.Posting Audios

7.More of the Best Friend tropes

8.Were you envisioning yourself as reader from sleepover in that audio?

Thoughts

1.. 2.. 3..

Audios💦

One

[maso-risa]

You said you're looking for a wife… are the applications open? 👀💕

Wth is wrong with y'all 😂

[maso-risa]

Yesss! I do have a request. Can you please do a harley quinn x step daughter reader and harley is insanely obsessed with her, like violently obsessed. I have not read anything truly dark in a long while. I'm choosing this -💄

Oooo I would love to write that, I love dark, fear inducing stories, like genuine fear. I'll definitely write it.

[maso-risa]

I'd let you make pretty sounds out of me🫣

...

[maso-risa]

Hiiii, I just found your page and I really love your writings so far! Do you take requests

Hii, glad that you like it!!, and I do take requests, but I'm very picky about what I take, Smut, angst, fluff, dark, hurt/comfort, things are fine, but I don't write heavy emotional problems. Did you have a request in mind?? Pick any Number, Emoji, Letter, Etc... For yourself 🤎

[maso-risa]

Executive

Beyoncé x fem!reader (yn)

corporate dom!beyoncé. power imbalance. control kink. taming. smut. tears.

The elevator dinged at the top floor like a warning bell. You clutched the tablet tighter to your chest, heart hammering against the silk of your blouse. Late again. Only by four minutes, but with Beyoncé Knowles that was four minutes too many.

Her assistant didn’t even look up when you passed. Everyone in the building had learned the rules: when the CEO was in a mood, you stayed invisible.

You weren’t invisible.

You were hers.

The double doors to her corner office were already open. Beyoncé stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, city lights glittering behind her. White blazer, deep neckline showing the swell of her breasts and the heavy diamond-and-pearl pendant that rested right between them. The same one in every picture that she's in.

She didn’t turn around immediately. Just spoke, low and rough.

“Lock the door.”

Your fingers trembled on the latch. The soft click sounded deafening.

Only then did she face you. Those eyes—honey-brown and absolutely merciless—pinned you where you stood. You’d seen CEOs twice her size fold under that stare. You’d seen her ruin careers with a single sentence.

And right now that stare was on you.

“You were late,” she said simply.

“I—traffic, I—”

Beyoncé crossed the room in three strides. Her hand caught your chin, tilting your face up. Not gentle. Not cruel either. Just control. Perfect, terrifying control.

“Did I ask for excuses?”

Your throat worked. You shook your head.

She studied you for a long moment, thumb brushing your lower lip. Then her gaze softened—just a fraction. The corner of her mouth twitched.

“There they are,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Those pretty eyes already getting glassy. You hate when I’m disappointed in you, don’t you, baby?”

A traitorous tear slipped free. You hated how right she was. How much you craved the fear and the safety all at once.

Beyoncé leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “Good. I like you scared. Means you still know who you belong to.”

She walked you backwards until your thighs hit the edge of her massive desk. Files scattered. She didn’t care. One sweep of her arm and the rest followed.

“Skirt up. Now.”

You hesitated half a second—pure instinct—and her hand was already in your hair, tugging your head back.

“Don’t,” she warned, voice dropping into that dangerous drawled out octave that made your knees weak. “You know better than to make me repeat myself little girl.”

You hiked the pencil skirt up with shaky hands. Beyoncé made a low sound of approval when she saw the lace panties she’d bought you last month. She hooked two fingers in the waistband and dragged them down your thighs, letting them catch at your knees.

“Sit.”

You obeyed, perching on the cool wood. She stepped between your spread legs, towering over you even in heels. The pendant swung forward, brushing your collarbone as she caged you in with both hands on the desk.

“Look at me.”

You did. Tears were freely falling now, smudging your mascara. Beyoncé watched them with dark hunger.

“So fucking pretty when you cry for me,” she breathed. Her free hand slid between your thighs, two fingers dragging through your already soaked folds. “This is mine. Your hesitation? Mine. Your fear? Mine. Every single tear—mine.”

She pushed inside you without warning—deep, deliberate, curling just right. You gasped, back arching. Beyoncé’s mouth crashed against yours, swallowing the sound. The kiss was possessive, all teeth and dominance, while her fingers fucked you slow and relentless.

You clutched at her blazer, desperate for something to hold onto.

“Tell me who owns you,” she growled against your lips, thumb circling your clit with devastating precision.

“You,” you whimpered. “You do, Miss.”

Her eyes flashed with satisfaction. She added a third finger and you keened, thighs shaking.

“That’s right. And when I say be on time, you move mountains to be on time. Do you understand me?”

“Yes uh—f-fuck—yes ma’am.”

Beyoncé hummed, pleased. She kissed the tears from your cheeks almost tenderly, then bit down on your neck hard enough to leave a mark you’d have to hide tomorrow.

Her pace never faltered. The wet sounds of her fingers working you open filled the quiet office, obscene and perfect. You were close already—always so easy for her when she got like this.

“Come,” she commanded, voice like silk over steel. “Right now. Let me feel how sorry you are.”

You shattered with a broken sob, clenching around her fingers, fresh tears spilling as the orgasm ripped through you. Beyoncé worked you through it, murmuring praises against your throat.

“Good girl… my good girl… that’s it, baby.”

When you finally slumped against her chest, spent and trembling, she wrapped her arms around you. The scary CEO melted just enough to cradle the back of your head, pressing soft kisses to your hair.

“Shh. I’ve got you,” she whispered. “Always got you.”

She let you stay there for a long minute, breathing her in—perfume and power and the faint salt of your own tears. Then her hand slid back down, cupping you possessively.

“Again,” she said calmly. “And this time you’re going to thank me properly while you come on my tongue.”

You whimpered, already nodding before she even finished speaking.

Beyoncé smiled—slow and dangerous, and only for you.

“God...What are you doing to me, baby?”

[maso-risa]

I'm gonna start posting oneshots of random thoughts I've been having to break this writers block

[maso-risa]

Who should the next post be about??

Harley Quinn

Rebekah Mikaelson

Gabrielle Sage

Wanda Maximoff

Natasha Romanoff

Voting ended onMar 30

[maso-risa]

Five More Minutes

Gabrielle Sage x Fem Reader

The bedroom was quiet except for the soft rustle of sheets and the occasional hitch in breathing. Gabby—lay on her side, one arm curled under the pillow. Her eyes were closed, lashes fanned against her cheeks, and her breathing had finally evened out into the slow, deep breath, ready to fall asleep.

The girl beside her had no intention of letting that happen.

Y/N pressed herself along Gabby’s back, front to spine, chin tucked over the slope of one shoulder so her lips grazed the sensitive skin behind Gabby’s ear. Her voice came out small, deliberately whiny, the tone she knew worked like a hook every time.

“Babyy…don’t...not yet”

A tired sound rumbled low in Gabby’s throat, more exhale than word. “Baby, it’s pushing three. I’ve got work at eight.”

“I know.” Y/N drew the syllable out into a hum, fingertips slipping under the hem of Gabby’s oversized shirt to trace slow, maddening circles across her stomach. “But I miss your voice when you sleep. I’m not done listening to it.”

Gabby’s lips twitched even with her eyes still closed—half smile, half surrender. She was exhausted, yes, but Y/N being like this had always been her personal kryptonite.

“You’re impossible to say no to,” Gabby murmured, voice thick with sleep and fondness.

Y/N smiled against her neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the spot that always made Gabby’s breathe hitch.

Gabby rolled onto her back in one motion, bringing Y/N with her so she ended up straddling her hips. One of Gabby’s hands settled at the nape of Y/N’s neck, thumb stroking lazily along the edge of her jaw. Her eyes opened dark, heavy-lidded, but soft at the corners.

“You want my voice that bad?” Gabby asked, low and deliberate, each word measured like she was already picturing how it would unravel the girl on top of her. “Then earn it.”

Y/N’s breath caught. She rocked down instinctively, the thin cotton of her sleep shorts dragging against Gabby’s bare thigh. A tiny, needy sound escaped before she could swallow it.

Gabby’s grip tightened just enough. “Louder. Let me hear exactly how much you need me.”

Y/N obeyed without hesitation, grinding down again—harder, slower, chasing the friction. Another whimper, higher this time, shameless.

"That's it...such a good girl for me." Gabby’s free hand slid to Y/n’s hip, guiding the roll of her hips into a steady rhythm. “Keep moving just like that. Fck i can feel how soaked you are already.”

Y/N could feel the damp heat of herself pressing against Gabby’s skin through the fabric. She leaned down, lips hovering a breath from Gabby’s.

“Tell me more,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Please.”

Gabby’s eyes darkened. She tugged Y/N closer by the hair. “I want you to ride my thigh until your legs are shaking. I want to hear every single pathetic little noise you make while you soak me. And when you’re right on the edge—” Her voice dropped lower, raspy and devastating. “—I want you to beg me not to stop talking.”

Y/n's hips stuttered. She kissed Gabby then—desperate, messy. Gabby kissed back like she’d been waiting for it, tongue sliding slow against Y/n's, swallowing every whine that tried to escape.

When they broke apart for air, Gabby’s hand slipped between them, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of Y/N's shorts. She found her drenched, swollen, clit throbbing under the lightest brush of her thumb.

“Fuck,” Gabby breathed against Y/N’s mouth. “Listen to how wet you are. My greedy little brat.”

Y/n nodded frantically, forehead pressed to Gabby’s, hips jerking into the touch. Gabby slid two fingers inside her in one smooth stroke, curling them immediately, and Y/N cried out—sharp, broken, loud enough that it echoed off the walls.

Y/N was already trembling, thighs quivering on either side of Gabby’s hips, nails digging crescent moons into Gabby’s shoulders. Every slow drag of those fingers, every nudge of Gabby’s thumb against her clit, every murmured word wound her tighter.

“Baby—please—i'm gonna—”

“Come on, sweet girl,” Gabby said, voice soft and dark and perfect. “Cum for me.”

Y/N came with a choked sob of Gabby’s name, grinding down hard as the orgasm ripped through her in waves. Gabby kept moving her fingers through it, drawing it out until Y/N was twitching, oversensitive and gasping, until she collapsed forward onto her chest.

Silence settled, broken only by their uneven breathing.

After a long moment Gabby pressed a slow kiss to Y/N’s temple, lips lingering.

“Now,” she rasped, smug and unbearably tender, “can I please get some goddamn sleep?”

Y/N laughed weakly, face buried in the crook of Gabby’s neck, already half-drifting.

“…maybe,” she mumbled. “Five more minutes.”

Gabby groaned, long-suffering, but her arms wrapped around Y/N anyway, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Y/N only hummed, content, already planning how to steal five more minutes after that.

[maso-risa]

Mines to Keep

17th-Century Rebekah Mikaelson x Fem Reader

The candlelight flickered low in Rebekah Mikaelson’s chambers, casting shadows across the tapestries and the heavy four-poster bed. The air smelled of beeswax, lavender oil, and the faint metallic tang that always seemed to cling to Rebekah herself—like old blood and older secrets.

Y/N, sat behind her on the embroidered covers, running the silver-handled brush slowly through her golden hair. Each stroke was careful, reverent. You’d been doing this since you were both barely more than children—her the sharp-tongued little princess and you, the soft-spoken daughter of a minor lordling who’d been sent to serve in the royal household. The years had changed almost everything except this: the quiet ritual, the way Rebekah’s shoulders relaxed under your touch even when her mouth stayed cruel to everyone else.

Tonight, though, her jaw was tight.

The heavy door opened without a knock.

Lady Eleanor, A Duchess, swept in wearing emerald silk and a smile that was all charms. In her gloved hands she carried a velvet box.

“Sweet Y/N,” the Duchess purred, eyes sliding over you with open hunger. “I brought you something to match those lovely eyes.”

You ducked your head, cheeks warming. “My lady, you are too kind. You needn’t—”

“Nonsense.” Eleanor stepped closer, opening the box to reveal a delicate sapphire pendant on a fine gold chain. “Try it on for me.”

Rebekah’s hand shot out and closed around your wrist before you could reach for the necklace.

“Leave it,” she said to you, voice low and venomous, before turning to the Duchess. “She’s occupied.” she told her.

Eleanor’s smile didn’t falter, but her gaze sharpened as it moved to the princess. “Always so welcoming, Your Highness.”

Rebekah didn’t answer. She simply tugged you down beside her until your back rested against the headboard and she could settle against you again—head on your chest, one arm thrown possessively across your waist. The brush lay forgotten on the sheets.

Eleanor lingered a moment longer, then gave a small laugh. “I’ll call on you tomorrow, darling,” she said to you. “Perhaps we might walk the gardens. The roses are in bloom.”

The door closed behind her.

Silence.

Then Rebekah’s voice, quieter than usual. “You let her speak to you like that.”

You blinked, confused. “She’s… kind to me, my lady.”

Rebekah’s fingers dug into your side enough to make you gasp. “Kind,” she repeated, the word dripping acid. “She wants to fuck you, Y/N. She wants to own you. And you smile at her like she hung the moon.”

Your breath caught. The word—fuck—sounded obscene coming from her perfect mouth. You’d never heard her say anything so crude in your presence before. Heat crawled up your throat.

“I—I don’t understand,” you whispered.

Rebekah lifted her head. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide in the low light. For once the cruelty was gone; what remained was something raw, almost desperate.

“You really don’t, do you?” she murmured. Her thumb brushed the corner of your mouth. “My sweet, stupid girl.”

Before you could speak she surged up and kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle.

Her mouth was demanding, teeth catching your bottom lip, tongue sweeping in like she’d been starving for the taste of you. You made a small, startled sound—half whimper, half sigh—and she swallowed it. One hand slid into your hair, tilting your head exactly how she wanted it; the other pushed beneath the laces of your corset, fingertips brushing the soft swell of your breast.

“Rebekah—” you gasped when she broke away just long enough to let you breathe.

“Quiet,” she ordered, but there was a tremor in it. She kissed you again, slower this time, coaxing your lips apart. Her hand moved lower, bunching your skirt, sliding up the inside of your thigh.

You jolted.

No one had ever touched you there. The shock of it—her warm palm cupping you through the thin linen—made your legs twitch closed on instinct.

Rebekah made a low, displeased sound against your mouth.

“Open for me,” she whispered. “Let me in, love.”

You were trembling. “It’s—I’ve never—”

“I know.” Her lips brushed your tear-damp cheek; you hadn’t even realized you were crying. “I know, sweet girl. That’s why it has to be me.”

Her fingers slipped beneath the fabric. You were already slick—embarrassingly so—and she groaned softly when she felt it. One finger circled your entrance, teasing, spreading the wetness, then pressed inside.

The stretch burned.

You cried out, hands flying to her shoulders, nails digging in through silk. Tears spilled over instantly.

“Shh, shh,” Rebekah soothed, kissing them away even as she worked her finger deeper. “It hurts now, I know. Just breathe for me. You’re doing so well.”

“It—hurts,” you whimpered.

“I know.” Another kiss to your temple, your cheekbone, the corner of your eye. “But I have to make you mine, Y/N. No one else gets this. No Duchess. No one.”

She added a second finger. The pain flared brighter; you sobbed, hips jerking, unsure whether to pull away or press closer. Rebekah’s mouth found yours again, swallowing every broken sound, kissing you through it like she could drink the pain away.

“Stay with me,” she murmured against your lips. “Let me have you.”

Slowly—agonizingly—the burn began to ease. Your body softened around her fingers, fluttering, and when she curled them just right you made a sound that wasn’t pain at all.

Rebekah smiled against your mouth—small, triumphant, almost tender.

“There you are,” she breathed. “My good girl.”

She pumped her fingers steadily now, the palm of her hand hitting against your clit each time. Your hips rocked without your permission, chasing the new, shimmering feeling. Tears still slipped down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure.

Rebekah kissed every single one away.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, voice rough with something dangerously close to devotion. “Say it.”

“I’m—yours,” you gasped, thighs shaking.

“Louder.”

“I’m yours, Rebekah.”

She kissed you hard as your body clenched around her fingers, as pleasure broke over you in sharp, overwhelming waves. You cried her name into her mouth, clinging to her like she was the only solid thing left in the world.

When it was over she didn’t pull away.

She kept her fingers inside you, soft and still, her forehead pressed to yours. Her breathing was ragged.

“No one else touches you,” she said quietly. “Ever. Do you understand?”

You nodded, dazed, cheeks wet, heart pounding against her chest.

Rebekah finally eased her fingers free. She settled beside you, pulling you into her arms, your head tucked beneath her chin.

“Sleep now,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Tomorrow the Duchess will find the doors to my chambers barred. And if she tries again…”

Her voice dropped to something cold and lethal.

“I’ll remind her what happens to people who touch what’s mine.”

Rebekah’s arms tightened around you—protective, possessive, and—for the first time in all the years you’d known her—completely unguarded.

“You're mine,” she whispered one last time, like a vow.

And in the dying candlelight, with her heartbeat steady against your cheek, you believed her wholeheartedly.

[wandanatskitten]

Dark Romance Natasha who “accidentally” bumps into you at a coffee shop after seeing you for the first time, crossing the street unaware of her staring.

Dark Romance Natasha who is waiting outside your apartment building and looking up at your window in her car while you assuming text back and forth.

Dark Romance Natasha who follows you around and learns yours way too predictable schedule.

Dark Romance Natasha who sneaks and puts hidden cameras in your place while you’re at work. Admiring every little detail of your apartment, from the clean clothes that haven’t been folded to the books littered across your living room. She takes a pair of panties as a memento.

Dark Romance Natasha who “keeps her distance” as she watches you in your natural element. All too familiar with your friends and hobbies once you invite her closer to your space.

Dark Romance Natasha who hunts men like prey. Her favorite kind? Anyone brave enough to talk to you when you go out. Anyone looking a little too long at her darling girl. And her favorite, your ex who still isn’t over you.

Dark Romance Natasha who scares you for the first time when she mentions something you never told her. Purposely letting you connect the dots on your exes “accident”.

Dark Romance Natasha who doesn’t take no for an answer. Even after you avoid her like the plague.

Dark Romance Natasha who traps you between her body and a hard wall. All too excited by the way your breath and pulse quicken. A clear smirk on her face as she leans into your neck.

Dark Romance Natasha who carves her initials into your thigh. Licking away any trailing blood and a proud smile from how you stopped trying to escape.

Dark Romance Natasha who fucks you with the handle on the knife. Licking off your cum before sheathing it back to her thigh.

Dark Romance Natasha who possessively fucks you. Whispering in your ear about how you belong to her and telling tales of all the people she’s hurt just to protect you. Each story bringing you closer to climax.

Dark Romance Natasha who you mistakenly fall in love with, because no one has cared the way she does.

Dark Romance Natasha who you would forgive over and over again. Feeding on the adrenaline that courses through you. Addicted to everything she does and everything she says.

Dark Romance Natasha who you’d do anything for. Taking a deadly turn to follow in her footsteps of passion and crime.

[maso-risa]

#wlw

[maso-risa]

Hello how are you doing? I hope you're okay😊

About my request can you do one with Elizabeth Olsen being our best friend and has feelings for us but the she's planning on telling us Sebastian Stan is proposing to us and we are saying no because we know he cheated on us with someone. Lizzie just stays frozen in place after she hears this and rushes forward slapping him for hurting us and making us cry and on accident she tells us about her true feelings about us. Time skip we get married after she proposed to us and have 2 toddlers 1 boy and 1 girl.

Thank you 💋x

I don't really write stories like these, I more so write 18+ content

[maso-risa]

Call

Gabrielle Sage x Fem Reader

The bass from the club still hummed faintly in your bones even after you stepped outside, the night air cool against your flushed skin. Sage had been deep in conversation with some girl with glossy lips and a laugh that carried

“You smell so good.” The girl told her.

Sage’s grin had been slow, pleased, the kind that made your stomach twist. You’d been standing a few feet away, arms crossed, watching the whole thing like it was happening in slow motion. When Sage didn’t immediately pull back, you finally spoke.

“You about ready to go?”

Sage glanced over, eyes still bright from whatever the girl had been saying. “I wanna finish the convo real quick.”

You felt the shift in your chest—something hot and tight. Your voice came out flatter than you meant it to. “Well take her number then. I’m ready to go.”

Sage’s smile faltered for half a second, reading you. She nodded once, murmured something to the girl, exchanged numbers with that same easy charm, then followed you to the car without another word.

The ride home was quiet. Too quiet. Sage kept stealing glances at you, thumb rubbing absently over the back of her phone, but you didn’t give her anything. You stared ahead, jaw tight, fingers drumming once against the steering wheel before going still again.

The apartment door had barely clicked shut before Sage turned, expecting the usual—maybe a quiet ride home turning into soft apologies or teasing make-up kisses. Instead, you were already there, crowding her space, backing her against the wall with a hand flat on her chest.

Sage’s brows lifted, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing her face. “Baby—”

You didn’t let her finish. Your fingers curled around the front of her throat—not squeezing, just holding—and you leaned in until your mouths were a breath apart.

“Do you like pissing me off, mama?” Your voice was low, steady, the nickname slipping out soft and deliberate.

Sage’s lips parted. She blinked once, twice, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift. The easy confidence she’d worn all night cracked just enough for you to see the real surprise underneath. Her pulse jumped under your palm.

“I… wasn’t trying to—” she started, but you pressed your thumb gently against her windpipe, silencing her without force.

“You were.” You tilted your head, studying her flushed cheeks, the way her pupils had already swallowed most of the hazel. “You let her get that close. Let her smell you. Smiled like you wanted more.”

Sage swallowed. Her hands hovered at your waist, uncertain for once. “I didn’t mean—”

You cut her off again, softer this time, almost sweet. “Call her.”

Sage’s eyes widened. “What?”

You reached into her back pocket, pulled out her phone, and pressed it into her hand. “Call the number. The one you took right in front of me.”

Sage stared at the screen, then back at you. Her breath came a little faster. “You’re serious.”

“Very.” You sank to your knees in one smooth motion, hands sliding up the outsides of her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. “Go on, mama. Dial.”

Sage hesitated—only for a second—then tapped the screen. The call connected. You heard the faint ring once, twice, before the girl’s voice came through, bright and curious.

“Hey! Didn’t expect you to call so—”

Sage opened her mouth to speak, but you’d already hooked your fingers in the waistband of her underwear and tugged them down just enough. Your mouth found her in the next heartbeat—slow, deliberate, tongue flat and warm against her clit.

Sage’s words died instantly. A choked sound escaped instead—half gasp, half moan. Her free hand flew to your hair, gripping hard.

“Uh—hi, I—” She tried again. Failed. Her hips jerked forward involuntarily when you sucked, gentle but insistent. “I just… wanted to—”

The girl on the other end laughed, oblivious. “You okay? You sound… out of breath.”

Sage’s head thumped back against the wall. She was trembling now, thighs shaking under your hands. “I’m—fuck—I’m fine, I just—”

You pulled back just long enough to murmur against her slick skin, “Keep talking, mama.”

Sage whimpered—actually whimpered—and the sound went straight through the speaker. You dove back in, tongue circling faster, two fingers sliding inside her with no warning. She clenched hard around you.

“I—I gotta—” Sage’s voice cracked, barely coherent. “Call you—later—shit—”

You didn’t let up. You curled your fingers just right, sucked harder, felt her start to unravel. Sage’s grip on your hair turned desperate; her knees buckled a little.

The girl’s voice came again, confused now. “Sage? You still there?”

Sage couldn’t answer. Her mouth was open, no sound coming out except broken little gasps. Her whole body was taut, trembling on the edge.

You reached up with your free hand, took the phone from her shaking fingers, and ended the call without a word. The screen went dark.

Sage let out a wrecked sob of relief—or frustration—you couldn’t tell which. Maybe both.

You pulled back just enough to look up at her—lips shiny, eyes dark. “You couldn’t even finish a sentence.”

Sage stared down at you, chest heaving, hair sticking to her damp forehead. “You little—”

You stood slowly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, then cupped her jaw and kissed her deep—letting her taste herself on your tongue.

When you finally pulled away, you brushed your thumb over her swollen bottom lip.

“Next time you wanna flirt in front of me, mama,” you said quietly, “be ready to handle what happens after.”

[maso-risa]

Hello sunshine🥰

I just wanted to say that your stories are amazing.

Also I need some advice, how do I tell to my girlfriend that I want her to fuck me harder and more roughly..?

I'm a bit more of a bottom I like it when I hear her moan when i ride her or when her cock is touching my right places..having her In my throat is exciting..

How can I tell her that I want her to go harder?

Hii! Thank you, that means a lot.

About your question — the hottest and usually most effective way is to say it right in the moment, when you're both already deep in it and everything feels right. Most tops, especially when they're already turned on love hearing exactly what their bottom craves, and hearing it raw and needy in the heat of the moment is way sexier than a calm sit-down convo.

[maso-risa]

The one-shot you just did it was so good. I know it's based in someone's life and I'm so sorry for them for going through this. But can I request something too, please? If that's fine with you

💋x

Of course!

[maso-risa]

Nosy nonnie indeed.

I wish I had a good girl like you to make pretty sounds for- ohhh wait…I do.

- “Someone special…”

😘💋

[maso-risa]

OMG what a fucking asshole😠

I'm so sorry for what happened to you love I hope you're doing well now and being able to move on from this🤍

Also the anon who wrote this request for a one shot it's good but hearing that the went through this it makes me sad, I'm sending them all my love and support ❤️

💚