warhawke > Recent Status Updates

My dad always says to trust your gut. My gut loves black licorice. And my gut tells me we’re going to be friends, Griffin. I really hope you write back.

“And fuck, I’m getting a hard-on watching you sink your teeth into that chicken leg. Sitophilia—I looked it up while you were feasting on my potatoes. I never knew I had a food fetish.”

He kissed me harder as he moved his hand faster, pushing his fingers deeper into me with every thrust of his hand.

I will love every second of going down on you and giving you the best orgasm of your life, better than any Furby ever could. I dream about it every day, Luca.

Later, gator,
Griff
P.S. Do you prefer Cavalier or Roundhead? (Uncut or other.) Asking for a friend. P
.P.S. That friend might be named Mee-Mee.

“Plus, then there’s the coitus.”
I assumed I’d heard him wrong. “The what?”
“Coitus—you know, the unison of the male and female genitalia. It’s been a while since you’ve been with a man.”

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✖ ✉ ✖ . . . (F)BR With Loyda . . . ✖ ✉ ✖

I wonder how dirty those letters are :p
I'll be the one on the left.

“Tonight, you’ll bow for me, Cold Queen. And then I’ll spend the rest of the night worshipping you between your thighs.”

Summoning my fires, I light up the dead pig and all his body parts. The smell of human flesh isn’t one I enjoy, but watching this poor excuse of a human burn is satisfying.

My weapon is the weather and I command it to obey me. Like sharp arrows made of ice, my weapons fall from the sky with incredible force. A force fueled by fury and vengeance and clarity.

Raking my nails down his shoulders, I revel in the hiss that escapes him. He thrusts harder into me. Owning and possessive. A king laying claim to a queen.

“Awfully fixated on my mouth, Dead Queen. Would you like me to put it to good use? Keep you warm between your thighs?”

She is a wicked weather maker. You can’t warm up what doesn’t want to be anything but cold.

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❄⚔❄ . . . (F)BR With Twinsie CC . . . ❄⚔❄

My cold heart is ready for this frozen tale 😛
I'll be the golden evil queen...

“And we kill anyone who tries to get in our way.”

The sensation is everything I imagined, and more, because I never once anticipated the look in his eyes, as he stares down at me. One of lust. Of dominance. Of pure possession.

His grip of my neck grows tighter, tongues become teeth, breaths fervent and shaky, and his moan turns to a growl. A violent storm that begins as a gentle rain and sweeps over me, bringing thunder and lightning.

We’re savages to them. Animals, basically. The experiments they perform on me, in their eyes, are no different than them being performed on a rodent who happens to talk.

“You see his dick?”
With a grimace, I cross my arms. “No! It was just a meeting.”
“I had to wheel Neela to surgery after she was with one of the Alphas first day. From the sound of it? He nearly tore her in half.”

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🔹🔪🔹. . . (F)BR With Twinsie CC, Loyda & Liz . . .🔹🔪🔹

Hope this one is good!
I'll be second from right. I'm imagining myself as an evil overlord there lol!

It overwhelms me sometimes, the depth of my love for her. And whether she knows it or not, she gives me as much as I give her.

His fingertip skates over my asshole and I want to die a little. Because ohmygod, that is my asshole. Maybe it wouldn’t be so weird if there was a nicer word for it, but all the euphemisms I’ve ever heard are cringe-worthy, so asshole it is.

The sound of Jade’s hand hitting Starla’s bottom and the way my Star’s mouth forms a perfect O in surprise when it does… What I wouldn’t give to have that be my hand.

No, she’s got on some socks that go above her knees and tie with ribbons—pink goddamn ribbons, in the name of everything holy—some black ruffled shorts, a Hello Kitty sweatshirt that’s falling off one shoulder, and her hair’s up in what my admins would call a messy bun.

Spending a lot of your life being “sick” means you always have a lot of people staring at you, examining you, speculating about you. I put up with it because, frankly, it helps keep me alive, but for anything beyond that, my tolerance for being regarded as damaged is bottom-of-the-sea low.

Jesus, Starla, don’t think about getting into your ex-psychiatrist’s pants. But it’s kinda hard not to when he’s got an ass like that…

A disturbance in the water broke me from my reverie, and I opened my eyes in time to see a shooting star streak across the dark sky.
I smiled as it raced toward the horizon. Some lucky person was about to have their wish returned to them.

A shot of desire raced through me, burning my limbs like lightning. His hands snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him, as when he first brought us here.

The park had been transformed into the staging area for an ice sculpture contest. Glittering forms rose up into the night, lit with focused lanterns. Most shone a soft white, but others had colored gels in them, casting brilliant tones on the crystal statues.

Cassius skillfully led me through the unfamiliar steps, his smile bright. As the song came to an end, he drew me in, so close I could feel the heat of his chest singeing my thin satin, before twisting me into a spectacular dip.

“And let me tell you, the Briord family tree is far from perfect. When I was studying up on him, I saw several first cousins who were awfully fond of each other…. No wonder he has such big ears.”