#HIS BEAUTIFUL EYES AND HIS PRETTY GOLDEN CURLS....
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Guyssss I think I really love Sportacus....😭😭😭
#jane journals#self insert talk#🍎 apple of my eye 🍎#worrysport#im still reeling over the fact that this is HAPPENING#how fucking funny is it. but LIKE IM NOT HERE TO DENY MYSELF SMALL JOYS#i just. i love his slight cheekiness. he's such a sweet man and he wants whats best for everyone#but he has a little bit of cheekiness to him like when he knows hes caught robbie (gay) in a lie#or when he knows the KIDS see through it#and he is just very sweet and supportive and good and hes so dad#and hes so extra and i love that about him!!!#i gotta KISS HIM!!!!!!!#HES SO PRETTY TOO#HIS BEAUTIFUL EYES AND HIS PRETTY GOLDEN CURLS....#THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING
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‘𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧’ 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩’
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! 69ing, face sitting/cocksucking, face fucking, light somnophila (satoru wakes up quickly when you sit on his face), slapping your ass a little, light pain kink, squirting, overstimulation, fingering
Fey: i found this while cleaning up my drafts, cleaned it up a bit, nothing like some simple face sitting in the middle of the night
Waking up to Satoru whining your name following it with, “Suck…warm…nnn! Please! Mama! Deep throat mmmm.” The small night light casts a golden glow dimly illuminating the bedroom.
You sit up squinting until your eyes adjust. Satoru is on his back giving you the perfect opportunity. Slowly pushing the blankets to the bottom of the bed, carefully straddling and sit on handsome Satoru’s face waking him up.
Satoru mumbles, “Mmmm?” Within seconds of waking up Satoru is sucking on your clit, grabbing your hips. Your cunt muffling his moans.
Clenching his pretty face with your thighs, “You woke me up so I figured I’d shut you up by sitting on your face.” Grinding your clit on his tongue, Satoru tightens his grasp, flicking his tongue faster.
You push the blanket off his beautiful naked body. Running your hands over his beautiful chest, squeezing his thick pecs and drags your nails along his thicks. Biting your bottom lip when he flexes and ruts his hard cock in the air.
“S needy that you’re having wet dreams about me.” Lying down on top of Satoru and taking his cock into your mouth. Bobbing your head and fondling his balls.
He loudly groans declaring his pride. Gliding his long thick fingers into your soaking wet cunt. He knows your body too well it takes him a few seconds to get you’re trembling on top of him.
Swirling your hand along Satoru’s long cock. Swirling your tongue around his light pink head with loud needy moans. Gliding him in deeper with a slow bob of your head, Satoru groans and thrusts his cock deep into your mouth.
Gagging on his cock, and squeezing both of his thighs. Your sloppy wet cunt muffles his needy whine. The vibrations from whines, groans and moans feel too good, Satoru is so noisy even with your cunt in his face.
Brace yourself for Satoru to fuck your mouth whilst eating you out. Any intentions to top him quickly crumbling in favor of letting him do what he wants with your body.
Satoru roughly smacks your cheek four times, squeezing your sore cheek. Pumping his fingers faster, adding a little more pressure with his tongue.
Gliding his cock out of your mouth and trying to catch your breath. You softly kiss and lick his head till your breathing is a little calmer. The second you take him in your mouth Satoru is rocking his hips, desperately fucking your mouth.
You’re trembling on top of him, curling your toes and clenching his face with your soft thighs. Satou’s firm grasp keeping your hips still. Being unable to move to get any temporary respite from his tongue and fingers bullying your cunt makes the oncoming high seem bordering threatening.
A wet warm feeling builds between your legs. Your soft cunt quivering around his long graceful fingers making your cunt squelch. You’re cumming yet the pleasure is building.
He loudly moans gush on his face squirting warm thick cum on his fingers. Satoru glides his fingers out and stuffs his tongue in to lick you clean. He grabs your hip smearing some of your slick on you.
Letting you go, you thighs tremble when you get off his face to lie on your side of the bed. Satoru sits up to turning on the lamp, he croons. “Princess lemme make it up wit ya by fucking you back to sleep.” Pushing the pillow off the bed, he grabs your ankle and pulls you into the middle of the oversize bed.
all works
#jjk smut#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x you#gojo x y/n#gojo x you
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Kitty cuddles // Viktor.
S1!Viktor x gn!Vastaya!reader.
Summary: Viktor's emotional support cat-hybrid person.
Fluff.
Your fingers wrapped around a brush, dipping the tip on a little blob of paint on your palette, your eyes focused on the canvas ahead of you then it shifts to the sight you're trying to recreate, the wide window of your balcony. The day is beautiful, perfect clouds and the way the sun hits your plants is simply divine.
Behind you, a tired inventor was struggling. Viktor sighed and threw his body back into his chair, today is his break day but of course he's still working anyways. Your sensitive ears twitch, he's been whining and huffing and mumbling curse words for at least the last half hour, but he brushes off any concern from your part, as usual.
His golden gaze falls on you sitting on your stool, he smiled faintly as he saw your fluffy tail swinging around lazily, almost brushing the floor.
"I think you should lay down for a minute, love." You speak softly, suggesting the idea for the fourth time. Viktor looks down at his make-shift desk. His neck is starting to hurt, and his back and his leg-
The zaunite reaches for his cane and with a small whimper he stands up, his cane clanks for the next couple of steps until he reaches the couch. Your shiny eyes stared at him, making sure he wasn't feeling more than just tired.
A soft grunt leaves him as his body falls down on the couch, taking one of the cushions on his head and the other on the small of his back, shifting around until he is comfortable.
"I meant in our bed, beloved." You speak softly, he shakes his head, his tired eyes meet yours.
"I like seeing you paint, koťátko." Viktor whispers with a hint of a slur to his words. You smiled softly, continuing to place soft strokes on the canvas but you could feel his gaze on you, you would turn your head occasionally, his eyes getting more and more droopy each time you looked.
After cleaning your brush with a cloth and leaving your palette aside, you stood and walked towards the couch, the soft bean pads on your feet making your steps silent.
Viktor looked up at you, with a little pleading gaze. You smirked faintly, leaning down to press a soft kiss on his lips before laying down next to him.
"I wish I could keep you with me in the lab, koťátko." He whispers, his arms wrapping around your body, holding you close. Your body is naturally warm, it feels so comforting in his aching body.
"It would make the long nights much easier to endure." Viktor continued, your hand cupped his face being mindful of your sharp nails as you caressed his pale skin. His right hand moved, his fingers wandered up your spine to the back of your neck and finally resting on the base of your ears, where they began massaging softly.
You immediately react, your eyes close and you nuzzle your head against his cheek, rubbing softly your face against his, your ears twitching gently, you love when he massages your ears, he's so gentle, so careful, he knows how sensitive they are.
"Such a pretty one." He whispers, placing a kiss on the top of your head which leads to a soft mewl from your part. Viktor enjoys this way too much, the weight of you on top of him, the warmth of your body and how your tail sways against his leg, your nose twitching against his cheek.
The Zaunite relaxes against you, feeling like he has a weighted warm and very fuzzy blanket on top of him.
And of course the cherry on top.
The soft vibration of your chest and purrrrr.
Vitkor smiles softly, his amber eyes stare at you, curled up by his side, purring softly. He envies you a little bit, you can fall asleep in minutes. He finds it adorable also.
"I love you so much, koťátko." He whispers softly, your ears twitch, letting him know you heard him loud and clear. He chuckles softly and closes his eyes, holding you close as he lets your soft noises and warmth lull him to sleep.
A/N:(Divider) I saw Lest and I too wanted to be a cat-person who's also a bad bitch and of course I had to throw Viktor into the mix. Probably a Vastaya will become my favorite reader to write but oh well. Hope you liked it! Send requests!
Viktor when Jayce asked to meet his partner:
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x you#viktor arcane#viktor arcane x reader#viktor machine herald#viktor nation#the machine herald#viktor lol#lol viktor#viktor league of legends#x male reader#x gender neutral reader#viktor arcane x male reader#viktor x reader#viktor x male reader#arcane viktor
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Morning Desires
Summary ✩ The beauty of Targaryen men is often said to be irresistible, and Jacaerys is no exception. After waking up early one morning, you find that you cannot, in fact, resist your gorgeous husband
Warnings ✩ Morning sex, smut, slight somnophilia, creampie, husband!Jace, blowjob, 18+
The sun was shining brightly when you woke up that morning, soft golden light pouring in through the windows and casting an almost ethereal glow over you and your husband.
When you opened your eyes, you were amazed to see how beautiful he looked sleeping so peacefully next to you. The morning sun shined down on him, making him look like one of those ancient Valerian gods that he spent so much time studying.
His brown hair was swept across his face, his pink lips parted. Soft snores could be heard falling from his lips and you giggled as he mumbled in his sleep.
Truly, you did not think you had ever seen a more gorgeous sight. It was rare that you got see Jacaerys so relaxed, so carefree. He usually spent his days and nights stressed about whatever the state the realm was in. Seeing him at peace was a sight that you drunk in greedily, brushing some of his curls from his face before sighing.
You did not wish to wake him, but an idea suddenly formed in your head and it left your core aching with desire.
It had been two weeks since you and Jacaerys had been intimate, and the feeling of his manhood pressed against your thigh, hard as a rock, reminded you just how much you missed your husband.
Before this stupid conflict in the Riverlands had broken out, Jace used to take you every night that he could. You would spend hours wrapped in each other’s embrace, soft words and gentle touches exchanged. You missed the feel of your husband. Now that he had been coming to bed so late, he was usually too exhausted for any activity other than sleep.
Today was actually one of the rare days that you had even woken up in the same bed as him, and though you felt terrible about it, the urge to feel him inside of you again was just too great to resist.
Lust had its grip on you this morning and you were not strong enough to deny it. Especially not when Jacaerys looked so delicious beside you.
You’d apologize later for disturbing his sleep, but right now, you needed your husband.
Gently, you positioned yourself so that you leaned over him, peppering soft kisses along his jaw and using a hand to trail up his thigh.
Jacaerys in his sleep shivered as you found one of his weak spots, sucking at the delicate skin and making sure to leave a mark. Redness spread over the several spots that your lips visited, licking and biting as you pleased while Jacaerys squirmed underneath you.
He still had not woken up, but his body was so used to your touch that he was involuntarily reacting to it. Several times did his hips buck into thin air, his cock growing harder the lower you kissed and the higher your hand went.
You smiled softly to yourself as he began to moan in his sleep, obviously feeling the way your lips had attached themselves to his chest.
You teased him by taking one of his nipples into your mouth, biting it like he does to you. For a few seconds, you sucked on it, leaving a love bite on his chest before moving on.
By the time you found yourself kissing his stomach, Jacaerys finally began to stir beneath you. His eyes fluttered open as you traced your tongue just above his hips, holding them down as your hand grasped his manhood.
He groaned, obviously awake now, and the sound prompted you to look up at him just as your lips found his cock.
You smiled deviously at your husband as he looked down at you with wide eyes, having the pleasure of seeing his pretty face just before you took him into your mouth.
“Fuck!”
Immediately, Jace’s hand reached down to tangle itself in your hair. Wasting no time, your husband guided you down on him, losing his breath as you managed to take his entire length.
You had done this many times before, so it was easy to open your throat, breathing through your nose so you wouldn’t choke. Using your spit, you eased your lips up and down his cock, your cheeks hallowing to give him more pleasure.
You were careful not to go too fast, but just enough to have him at your mercy. Jacaerys moaned and whispered sweet praises as you sucked his cock; ones that had your core throbbing with desire. A familiar wetness pooled between your thighs, your arousal burning hotter and hotter.
The sounds that your husband started to make only fueled your desperation further, and they indicated that he was almost near his peak. You did not want him to come; not yet since you still ached with the desire to satisfy your own needs. So, before he could reach his release and end your morning fun, you quickly pulled away and straddled him.
A desperate whine left Jace’s throat at the sudden loss of pleasure, but it was quickly replaced by a broken moan when you sank yourself onto his cock.
Together, you nearly collapsed at the feeling of being connected again. After two weeks, your cunt had desperately missed him and you could tell that Jacaerys felt the same.
Tenderly, he held onto your hips and threw his head back as you rode him. The morning light continued to shine down on him, bathing him in rich, golden light. It highlighted the sweat that had began to coat his face, his eyes looking like pools of honey as he kept your gaze.
Softly, Jacaerys pulled you down to meet his lips, capturing you in a passionate, fiery kiss.
Your moans were swallowed by his mouth as your tongues met, tasting the sweetness of one another and relishing in it.
As his cock slid in and out of your cunt, you felt a familiar pinch in your core that had you clenching around him. Jacaerys groaned as you began to bounce faster on his cock, releasing your lips so that he could watch you come undone. He held your hips steady and guided you into a pace that satisfied you both, your bodies so intertwined to the point where your release matched his.
Under a spell of desire, sleep, and desperation, your husband let out a groan as he shuddered underneath you. The last threads holding back his peak snapped, and you could feel his seed coating your walls as he let go.
Likewise, Jacaerys could feel your legs shaking as you clenched down on him and moaned. After so long, your release washed over you and clouded your senses, the pleasure almost as blinding as the light. To Jacaerys, it accentuated your features, making you look like a goddess as you came.
With your lips parted and your head thrown back in ecstasy, you looked like the absolute epitome of beauty. The kind of beauty that women envied and men worshiped.
Jacaerys swore that there was never a man as lucky as he was in that moment, staring at you with love and adoration as you collapsed next to him.
For a few moments, neither of you said anything. As the sun rose around you, lighting the room with a soft yellow glow, you took a minute to admire each other. It had been quite some time since you’d gotten a proper look at your husband, but honestly he was just as breathtaking as you remembered him.
“Sȳz tubis, issa jorrāelagon,” You told him softly, practicing the High Valyrian you had been studying.
Jace often teased you that your pronunciation sounded just as bad as his once had. Before he had become King, he had the hardest time memorizing what the letters sounded like. Apparently, your Valyrian wasn’t as good as you thought it was but there was no teasing from him this morning.
No jests. Jacaerys only wore a proud smile on his lips as he stroked your cheek, leaning in to plant a kiss on your soft skin before chuckling.
“Well, good morning to you too, my love.”
#house of the dragon#hotd#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon smut#jacaerys x reader
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knowing better, twisted pleasure ☆ spencer reid
MDNI 18+ oral yay!!!, i love thinking about spencer with his head between my legs so here we are, overstim so “stop” is said once so keep that in mind ☆ title from killshot by magdalena bay, listen as you read if you want! spencer i can’t get enough of you please.
☆ ☆
it’s too much, you can’t. you can’t.
“spence— spence stop,” you plead as you squirm and your legs draw up in an attempt to get away from him. but he just won’t stop. unaffected, he slips his hands under your thighs and pulls you closer to his mouth, to where he wants you.
soft locks are enveloped in your hands as you card your fingers through them because even in your delirium, giving him affection is like breathing. your objections skate right over that pretty head of his and he keeps going, because he knows you don’t mean it. he knows that if he stops and rises back up to his knees, you’ll be begging him to “come back, please,” like you did that one time he felt really evil.
you gasp when you feel two fingers enter you, and you groan painedly when they begin to move, stroking maddeningly.
spencer’s too good at this, his fingers are too caring and precise inside you and his tongue is too soft and sweet as it laves over you. jesus, what the fuck.
it’s all so much, so much. a tortured, groveled moan rips from your chest as another sickly-sweet pang of feeling rocks through you. spencer’s commanding fingers tighten around your thighs, stacking yet another sensation on your already overwhelmed nervous system. human evolution, no matter how developed and perfected, was not made for this. it balks in the face of what spencer’s doing to you.
“oh my god— spence,” you whine, locking in on him through your blurry, teary eyes. between your legs, he looks unfortunately perfect, even as he shuts you down and lights you up all at the same time. you’ve got enough going on under your skin to power your whole block.
it’s lewd, how he looks so pretty eating you out. his messy brown hair and those melting golden eyes, and most disgustingly, his mouth hidden where his tongue flicks against your absolutely soaked center. the visual is art, though, the plane of his shoulders and his ever-expressive liquid hazel eyes flitting between closed and taking you in, in your beautiful ruin.
it’s in moments like these where spencer feels good. you’re explicitly, obscenely beautiful to him, and your pleasure is something he takes great pride in giving to you. as you lose yourself in it, sinking into the sticky pool of feeling, he gets to bear witness to it all.
“oh, baby,” you moan so warmly as he flattens his tongue and licks right over your clit. before, his tongue was quick and precise, but now he’s taken to loving you slowly, licking in a way that could only be called sensual. he hums as he runs his tongue over you again, so salacious, open-mouthed and he looks so dirty that you can’t fucking take it any more. again, your body does its best to protect you from feelings you can’t compute, but spencer does his best to make you take what you need more than air.
then, his fingers inside you focus on their goal, and he’s curling them familiarly and kissing that spot, rubbing it softly.
“yeah, fuck—,” is all you can scramble out before what’s been building up in you since he first settled between your legs explodes. if you didn’t know better, you’d think you’re exploding with how fucking much you feel. it should be humanly impossible to feel this way, but it’s not, because you’re feeling it here and now as your ears pop and your vision goes black and spencer just keeps fucking consuming you. he has the nerves to moan from between your legs, sending shockwaves through your already ravaged being.
eons pass. you travel through a thousand universes and sit upon a thousand suns before you come back to your Earth, with your spencer looking softly up at you, his head laying on one of your glossy thighs. as your senses slowly return to you, it seems he’s wiped his hand off on the sheets because the hand that’s rubbing the outside of your thigh is relatively dry, considering its previous position.
“you okay?” he asks warmly.
“fuck you,” you drag, croaky and unpolished.
he snorts.
“yeah, you’re okay,” he says through his laughing, unhooking his hand from under your trembling thigh as he rises up to hover over you. he kisses you, and just barely begrudgingly, you kiss him back.
“good?” he whispers over your lips. you wrap your arms over his neck as you both settle with each other.
“yeah,” you acquiesce lightly with a shrug and a tilt of your head, before you bring him down for another kiss.
#yay!!!!!!#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x black reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#mcondance 2024#— 🪽
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A night of pleasure.
Paring: Ser Gwayne Hightower x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.7k+ Warnings: AFAB Reader, the newest Hightower serving cunt, dom flare perhaps?, oral (m receiving), p in v, edging, masturbation with a sprinkle of voyeurism Author’s Note: This is a slight alternative of Baela not noticing them, so Gwayne and his merry men could tell Crispy to fuck off and they found that place off of Rosby Road. Thank you my Tumblr kindred spirits who helps me brainstorm, and a huge thank you to my beloved @aemondsbabe who beta read and helped me make sense of this smutty smut.
You awaited in a row with the other girls who had been called down by your Madam for review. It was often on behalf of some big bellied lord who was traveling along Rosby Road, who would choose which one he would take his pleasure from with sweaty grunts and moans, but tonight was different.
The honorable guest in question was Ser Gwayne Hightower; he walked the line with a smirk playing on his lips and his eyebrow arched with his scrutiny that came in-hand with his privilege. He was undeniably handsome though, with copper tones against alabaster skin and a dusting of freckles you only noticed when he finally paused in front of you.
You straightened enough, poised for display, burning as his gaze relished over your figure. The murky cobalt blue of his eyes darkened with his smile.
“I want her.”
Tonight you are the envy of the other girls. You can feel your thighs tensing with your anticipation as you follow him into the room. You remained by the door, watching as he pulled his tunic over his head; your eyes washed over him, admiring the muss of his red hair to the pale planes of his chiseled chest.
He caught you staring, another smirk on his pink lips. “You should undress,” he said, more a command than a request.
You burned under his heady stare, your fingers quick to unlace your gown and allowing it to puddle at your feet. Your cream chemise underneath was sheer with the candlelight of the room, an amber glow that poured over you both.
He moved closer towards you, his hand moving to cup your cunt and feeling through the cloth that covered it; you were bare beneath, your heat already pooling into his touch, and he hummed his satisfaction. He leaned closer, his breath hot in the shell of your ear. “This as well, pretty girl,” he said and his words bolted through you; you removed it, completely bare before him.
“Now on your knees,” he gave the husky command and you sank to the floor at once, looking up at him through your lashes. “Good girl.”
Your eyes fell to his waist and you could truly understand his arrogance that was heavy between his thighs. He wore his breeches low on his hips with a tease of golden hair that dipped towards the thick outline that pressed from his crotch. Your fingers trembled to touch, but he gave another hum of encouragement which emboldened you to loosen the laces and pull out his cock.
Ser Gwayne was kinder than most. His virtue was his patience as he watched your wonder. You gave a tentative lick and a kiss at the base; he throbbed as your tongue curled underneath, following up towards his swollen cockhead. You could taste the salt of him and you shifted, moving slowly to take him inch-by-inch until your nose pressed against his lower abdomen.
He groaned, something that vibrated through you, and his hand rested on the nape of your neck, not forcing you but also keeping you in place. His hips bucked and your fingers bit into his thighs, your eyes watering from the lack of air, and only then does he release his hold.
You coughed, tears streaming down your cheeks, and you saw his satisfaction blatant on his beautiful face; your thighs clenched, your body betraying you. You spit on your palm and your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock again as your mouth moved to reclaim his length, your wet gag mixing with another guttural groan from him. His hips rutted against your face as you slurped and sucked; you were quick to find a tandem with his thrusts, his cock throbbing against your tongue.
He pulled away from you. “Get on the bed.”
Another command that you are eager to follow, a slick already spilling between your thighs. You sat yourself on the edge, your thighs plush and your arms rigid at your sides, waiting.
He moved towards you with deliberate steps that gave a lewd sway to his cock, shining with your spit. Your mouth watered, eyes blown, and you looked up when he chuckled. His finger curled under your chin, tilting your head back further to meet with his heady gaze. “You seem almost desperate for more,” he observed with another smile.
Before you could answer him, he pushed you back, his hands wrapping around your ankles and propping your feet against his chest, folding you in half into the mattress.
You tucked your chin to your chest, watching his hand guide himself, following your silken slit before he slowly sank into you. You moaned and your hands moved under your hips, canting to try and accommodate his size that was splitting you in half.
He paused once he was fully sheathed, a low groan pulling from the back of his throat with how you fit around him. He was flushed, rose and golden in the lighting, a lustful black swallowing the color of his eyes when he looked down at you. He moved, his hands pressing into the back of your knees to balance himself as he began to fuck you into the bed.
You were panting with his brutal pace, your hands knotting into the sheets. His hips snapped against you, filling you with a passion that builds in your core. You dared to lift your hand, your fingers flitting to touch the bloom of nerves above your entrance; it was a trill of pleasure before being stopped suddenly.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?”
You felt cold with his words. He pulled away, perched at the end of the bed, his cock red and glistening as he watched you. You clenched around nothing, spilling and staining into the linen from the tease of pleasure that now aching through your bones. “Please, ser, I did not mean to offend–”
His hand wrapped around your ankle and he pulled you back towards the edge. It does not take much for him to move you until your torso was pressed against the mattress, your knees touching the floor. You felt his weight pressed to your back with a heat that had you squirming, and he chuckled. “You have not earned that yet,” he said, blowing softly in your ear.
Gooseflesh rippled over your skin with your pitiful mewled response, your hips wiggling for friction. Ser Gwayne tuts, pulling away, and his one hand gripped onto your hip to hold you still. You tensed as you felt his cockhead dragging through your silken folds, coating himself before he moved to fill you once again.
The new angle sparked something at the bottom of your spine with flames that prickled across your backside as his stroke went deeper and deeper. Your hips bucked back, meeting with his building motion, and his hands bruised into your hips with his brutal pace, the wet smack of skin-to-skin as he fucked you.
You clawed at the sheets, your mouth falling open, a wordless plea for release that was trilling to your nerve endings and teasing you once again. As your velvet walls began to flutter, he hissed, pulling back to pump himself to completion; you could feel his pearly spend spilling on your arse.
You wished to bury your face and cry, your body thrumming for a release that you were denied again. Your palms pressed to wearily push yourself upright, turning to look at him.
Ser Gwayne was standing, already tucking himself away. The brilliant blue of his eyes returned with a shine that looked you over. “Do you feel you have earned it, pet?”
He was teasing you, his lips ticking upwards. Your thighs clenched again, your head nodding. “Then you may now touch yourself.” His tongue clicked at the end, and your eyes widened. You were rooted until he spoke, “I will not tell you again.”
You scrambled to lay back onto the bed, uncaring of how his sticky spend seeped into the sheets. You grabbed for the pillows to lie against and you spread your legs for his show. Ser Gwayne was rapt to watch from the end of the bed, almost stoic as his eyes settled onto you. You do not look away, bringing your fingers to your lips and suckling before they dropped below to touch yourself, just as he commanded.
His jaw ticked with your salacious gesture, which was mostly unneeded as you were still wet and wanting, but it allowed a genial glide for your fingers to find your pearl. Your blood rose to the surface, beckoned by his bold stare and by your precise touch that uprooted the abandoned pleasure that had been pulsing earlier. Your fingers circled to pull a low moan, and his eyes fluttered at the vision you made: so pliant and plush, so very obedient.
“Just like that,” he rasped, his eyes unable to tear away. His hands flexed at his side, blood pouring until his cock was half-hard. “Let me hear you.”
You licked your lips, your moans spilling louder as your fingers continued, returning you back to tip you over that precipice with a honeyed burst of passion, pulsing thick onto your hand. It comes as a sobbed release, your chest heaving to catch your breath with how it shattered throughout; you melt into the mattress, boneless.
“Let me taste you.”
You opened your eyes, wet lashes clumped together, to see the gentleman gone to madness; he kneeled between your thighs, his fingers dimpling with his hold on you. His head dipped, a deep breath and a murmured, “Heavenly,” that tickled your skin. He placed an intimate kiss to the blossomed bundle of nerves. You cried out, your thighs tightening to a vice around his head, and he groaned against your wet cunt.
Ser Gwayne pulled back to look at you, his eyes lust-blown, and moved up to capture your mouth for a first kiss, stained with your tart taste that glossed his soft lips.
“You did so well for me,” he praised, nestling against you for another kiss. It was deeper this time, his tongue curling to your own, and your pulse began to flutter in your veins, your passion renewed. “I have decided that I will be keeping you to myself, all night.”
hotd masterlist || arcie's navi
#house of the dragon#hotd fanfic#ser gwayne hightower#ser gwayne hightower x you#ser gwayne hightower x reader#gwayne hightower#gwayne hightower x you#gwayne hightower x reader#afab reader
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𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬
pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader
summary: in the midst of a beautiful hawaiian vacation, drew and you are savoring every moment with your brilliant 2-year-old son, rustyn. joined by drew’s family, the vacation is filled with laughter, love, and sweet moments by the beach. rustyn’s bright mind and affectionate heart make every interaction heartwarming, especially when he decides his parents need to share a kiss.
warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, family bonding, cute toddler antics, mild pda (innocent kissing initiated by an adorable toddler).
au: wrote this because currently so obsessed with baby rustyn on tiktok, he’s so smart and sweet. like, reblog and comment are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @mileyraes @xoxohoneymoongirl @enjoymyloves @tracymbcm @littlelamy @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @akobx @maybankslover @noobmazter69
A soft and gentle Hawaiian breeze filtered through the open windows of the Airbnb, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the distant sound of waves crashing onto the shore. The golden sunlight filtered into the bathroom where you stood, brushing the last bit of blush on your cheeks as you prepared for the day. It was only the second morning of your vacation in Hawaii, but already you could feel a deep sense of peace and contentment.
Through the thin walls, you could hear the soft murmur of conversation from the living room, where Drew was keeping your son, Rustyn, entertained. At only two years old, Rustyn had a way of commanding attention wherever he went. His bright, inquisitive mind and sweet nature often left you in awe, as he continuously found ways to make everyone around him feel special. Whether it was a loving compliment or a random fun fact he had picked up from one of his many TV shows, Rustyn always knew how to leave an impression.
Just as you were finishing up your makeup, you heard a light knock on the bathroom door, and soon a small voice called out.
“Mommy, can I come in?”
The door creaked open, revealing Rustyn standing in the doorway, his big blue eyes peeking up at you with admiration. He walked inside, his little feet padding across the tiled floor, his excitement for the day evident in the way he carried himself.
“Mommy, you look beautiful today,” Rustyn said, his tiny voice full of awe, as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have such a pretty mom.
You felt your heart swell with love, as it always did when Rustyn offered these sweet compliments. Leaning down, you scooped him up into your arms and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” you said, smiling into his soft curls. “You’re so sweet.”
Just then, Drew appeared at the doorway with a grin on his face. He leaned against the doorframe casually, his eyes soft as he looked at the two of you. “Rustyn’s right, you know. Mommy always looks pretty.”
You smiled at Drew, warmth flooding your chest at the sight of him standing there, his playful charm radiating through his teasing words. Even after all this time, Drew still had a way of making you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Oh, stop it, you two,” you said with a laugh, setting Rustyn down as you finished gathering your things.
“You’re so special to me, Mommy,” Rustyn added sweetly, wrapping his arms around your neck with a big hug as if to emphasize just how much he loved you.
From the living room, you could hear Todd and Jodi’s soft “aww” as they watched Rustyn’s display of affection. His grandparents were always so proud of how kind-hearted and loving he was. Every little word Rustyn said seemed to have the power to melt hearts. You smiled to yourself, grateful for the love that surrounded your family.
“Okay, okay,” you said with a grin, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “Let’s go get some breakfast. Are you ready for a fun day, baby?”
Rustyn nodded enthusiastically, his little face lighting up. “Yeah, Mommy! I wanna go see fishy!”
Drew chuckled as he grabbed the car keys. “Alright, let’s get going, then.”
As you walked out of the Airbnb, the sun kissed your skin, and the smell of the ocean surrounded you. You couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be spending this time with your little family and Drew’s parents, siblings. The connection between all of you felt so strong, and you knew Rustyn was growing up surrounded by so much love from everyone around him.
Once everyone had gathered their things, Drew packed up the rental car, making sure Rustyn was safely strapped into his car seat before helping you into the front passenger seat. Todd and Jodi settled into the back, chatting softly about the day ahead. The air was filled with the warmth of a family vacation—easy-going, full of laughter, and stress-free.
Drew started the car, glancing over at you with a soft smile before shifting his attention to the road. “So, what are we thinking for breakfast? Pancakes for Rustyn, or something more adventurous?”
You laughed. “Rustyn could eat pancakes every day if we let him.”
From the back seat, Todd chuckled, “The kid has good taste.”
As the car rolled down the scenic coastal road, the windows open to let the cool breeze in, Rustyn began his usual habit of filling the car with his boundless curiosity.
“Mommy, did you know that dolphins are really smart?” he asked from his car seat, his little legs kicking back and forth as he peered out the window.
You turned slightly in your seat, smiling at him. “Oh yeah? How smart are they?”
Rustyn’s face scrunched up in thought as if he was recalling one of the many nature shows he loved to watch. “They can talk to each other with squeaks!”
“That’s right, baby,” you said, nodding in encouragement. “Dolphins are very smart.”
Drew glanced in the rearview mirror, clearly amused. “What else do you know about dolphins, Rusty?”
Rustyn continued excitedly. “And turtles! Turtles can live for a really, really long time—like, a hundred years!”
Todd, sitting in the back, grinned and leaned forward slightly. “Is that so, Rusty? You’re a walking encyclopedia, aren’t you?”
Rustyn beamed at the praise, clearly proud of himself. “I know lots of things!”
Jodi chimed in with a warm smile. “You sure do, sweet boy. Maybe you’ll be a marine biologist one day.”
Rustyn seemed to like the sound of that. “What’s that?”
“It’s someone who studies ocean animals, like dolphins and turtles,” you explained, watching as his eyes lit up with interest.
“Yeah! I wanna be a marine… biologist!” Rustyn said, his face scrunching up as he tried to say the word correctly.
The entire car burst into laughter, everyone already so charmed by Rustyn’s enthusiasm for life. Drew reached and squeezed your hand, a gesture of shared pride in your little boy.
“He’s going to do great things,” Drew said softly, his voice filled with love as he looked back at Rustyn, who was now babbling happily about his future ocean adventures.
When you arrived at the breakfast spot—a quaint beachside cafe with a view of the ocean—you saw that Drew’s siblings, Logan, Brooke, and McKayla, were already there, waiting for you all at a large outdoor table. The sea breeze was refreshing, and the early morning sunlight cast a warm, golden glow over everything.
Brooke was the first to spot you, waving you all over with a grin. “Finally! We thought you guys were never going to show up.”
“Sorry, Rustyn had to give us a marine biology lesson on the way here,” Drew said with a chuckle as he approached the table.
Logan laughed, reaching down to high-five Rustyn, who was already eager to share more of his newfound knowledge. “Rusty, my man! What did you teach them this time?”
“Turtles can live for a hundred years!” Rustyn declared proudly, his chest puffing out with pride.
McKayla smiled fondly at her nephew, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Well, look at you, little genius.”
The conversation flowed easily as everyone sat down, catching up with each other and enjoying the relaxed vibe of the island. Drew’s family was always warm and welcoming, and it felt so natural to be surrounded by them. Rustyn, ever the center of attention, charmed everyone with his sweet compliments and random facts, making sure to tell each person at the table how much he loved them.
At one point, as you waited for the food to arrive, a couple sitting nearby noticed Drew. They exchanged nervous glances before hesitantly approaching the table.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt,” the woman said, clearly excited but trying to be respectful. “We’re big fans of your work, Drew. Could we get a picture?”
Drew smiled kindly, ever gracious with his fans. “Of course. No problem.”
As he stood up to take the picture with the couple, Rustyn watched intently from his seat, his little face full of curiosity. As soon as Drew finished and the couple thanked him, Rustyn piped up loudly, his voice full of pride.
“I’m a big fan of my Dada too!”
Everyone, including the couple, burst out laughing at Rustyn’s unexpected but adorable declaration. Drew’s face flushed slightly as he reached down to ruffle Rustyn’s hair, clearly touched by his son’s words.
“You’re too much, bud,” Drew said with a smile, leaning down to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head.
The rest of breakfast was filled with more laughter, light teasing, and stories of the adventures everyone had planned for the day. Rustyn, always the star of the show, kept everyone entertained with his endless questions and sweet declarations of love for his family.
After breakfast, you all decided to spend the rest of the day at the beach. The sun was shining brightly, and the water looked impossibly inviting. Rustyn could hardly contain his excitement as you, Drew, and his siblings set up camp with a large umbrella and a pile of beach towels.
Rustyn tugged at your hand, his little face filled with anticipation. “Mommy, can we go swimming now?”
You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Of course, sweetie. Let’s go!”
Drew grinned as he helped Rustyn into his floaties before scooping him up and carrying him toward the water. “Let’s see what you’ve got, buddy.”
As soon as the cool ocean water lapped at your feet, Rustyn let out an excited squeal, splashing around with glee. Drew, ever the playful dad, lifted him high into the air before gently dunking him into the water, making Rustyn giggle uncontrollably.
After a while of swimming, you decided to take a break and build a sandcastle with Rustyn. The two of you sat side by side in the soft sand, gathering buckets of wet sand while Drew stayed in the water with Logan and McKayla. You helped Rustyn carefully pack the sand into a tower, guiding his small hands to shape the castle.
“Mommy, look! I found a shell!” Rustyn exclaimed, holding up a small white seashell he had discovered buried in the sand.
“That’s perfect, Rusty! We can put it right here,” you said, showing him where to place it on the sandcastle.
Drew, having spotted the two of you from the water, made his way back to the shore and dropped down beside you. “How’s the sandcastle coming along?”
Rustyn looked up at him with a big grin. “Good, Dada! We found a shell for it.”
Drew nodded appreciatively, leaning in to examine the shell. “Wow, you and Mommy are making quite the masterpiece.”
You chuckled, brushing some sand off your hands as you admired the nearly finished sandcastle. “He’s a natural builder.”
After a few more minutes of playing in the sand, you leaned in close to Rustyn and whispered, “Hey, baby, can Mommy have a kiss?”
Rustyn nodded, but instead of leaning in for a kiss himself, he had a different idea. With a mischievous grin, he grabbed both your face and Drew’s, pulling you two together with surprising force. He giggled, clearly wanting his parents to kiss each other.
Drew let out a soft laugh, his blue eyes twinkling with affection as he looked at you. “Looks like someone’s playing matchmaker,” he said with a teasing grin.
You smiled back, your heart swelling with love as you leaned in to kiss Drew. It was a soft, tender kiss, made even sweeter by the fact that Rustyn had initiated it. When you pulled away, Drew still had that fond, loving look in his eyes.
“You’ve got good ideas, Rusty,” Drew said, ruffling his son’s hair.
Rustyn giggled happily. “You’re supposed to kiss! It makes you happy!”
Drew chuckled, pulling you both in for a group hug. “Yeah, bud, it really does.”
As the day wound down, the entire family gathered under the umbrella, lounging on towels and sipping on cold drinks. Brooke and McKayla had picked up fresh coconuts from a nearby vendor, passing them around as everyone settled in to enjoy the sunset.
Logan and Todd were still determined to outdo each other in their impromptu sandcastle competition, while Jodi sat back, laughing at their antics.
Rustyn, now thoroughly exhausted from the day’s activities, snuggled into your lap, his little eyes drooping as he fought off sleep. You brushed a hand through his soft hair, smiling down at him as he yawned.
Drew, sitting beside you, wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as the two of you watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.
“This was a perfect day,” you whispered, leaning your head on Drew’s shoulder.
Drew smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, it really was.”
Rustyn, half-asleep now he’s laying on your chest, murmured softly. “Love you, Mommy. Love you, Dada.”
Your heart melted at his words, and you looked down at him with a smile, your love for him overflowing. “We love you too, baby,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
As the last rays of sunlight disappeared over the horizon, you felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you. The love you felt for Drew, for Rustyn, and for the family surrounding you, was all you needed. This was your perfect moment—a moment filled with love, laughter, and the warmth of your little family.
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Fantasy Come to Life
Day 23 → Consensual Non-Consent 💋 Max Verstappen
Warnings: 18+ content, CNC, drugging, and conditioning
Kinktober Masterlist
The streets of Monaco glimmer under the soft afternoon sun, a golden haze coating the narrow lanes of boutiques and cafés. Your sandals click against the cobblestone as you make your way towards the boutique district.
Excitement pulses in your veins. The air smells of salt from the sea mixed with expensive perfumes wafting from open shop doors. A vacation, you think. Finally, a breath of freedom.
There’s a group of tourists ahead, their laughter bouncing between the buildings, but you don’t pay them much attention. You’re too busy thinking about the new dress you’ve been eyeing since last night. Just a few more minutes, and you’ll-
A hand. Suddenly.
It’s over your mouth. It’s over your nose. You barely process the scent of something sweet before your body reacts, muscles tensing as you thrash, trying to scream. But your voice is gone. Your world is tipping sideways. The bustling streets dim, muffled voices becoming far-off echoes.
You struggle. Harder now, your legs kicking wildly, hands flailing to grab onto something — anything — but it’s useless. The arms around you are too strong, pulling you back, pulling you down. The cloth over your face smells like chemicals, sickly sweet and heavy.
The light above you begins to blur. Your fingers twitch, reaching for the fading streetlights, for the sky, but everything’s too far away. Your limbs stop responding. You’re falling.
And then — nothing.
***
When you come to, your eyelids feel impossibly heavy. Everything is hazy, dark. You try to move but your body doesn’t listen. Panic flares. You can barely breathe, and your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton.
Then you hear voices. Men, low and murmuring, their words filtering into your consciousness through the haze.
“... should be waking up soon,” one of them says. His voice is smooth, calm, like this is all perfectly normal.
“Why her, though?” It’s the driver, speaking in a clipped tone. The rumble of the engine thrums beneath you, the subtle vibration reminding you that you’re in a car. “There are thousands of beautiful women here, Max. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
There’s a pause.
And then, a deeper voice, Max, answers.
“I knew the moment I saw her,” Max says, his tone dark, possessive. “She’s meant to be mine.”
Your heart thuds. You can hear him shifting in the seat next to you, close enough that you can feel the heat of him.
The driver scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know her.”
“I don’t need to,” Max replies smoothly. “Some things are undeniable.”
His words drip with confidence, like this is all part of some grand plan that only he understands.
You try to move again, to make a sound, but your limbs are heavy and unresponsive, and fear curls in your stomach like a fist. You’re trapped, lying motionless in the backseat of this car with two strangers, one of whom thinks he owns you.
“She’ll resist,” the driver says. “They always resist.”
Max chuckles, low and quiet. “Of course she will. At first.” There’s a pause, then you hear him shift closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “But I’ll make her understand. She’ll be perfect once I’ve made her mine.”
The air around you feels suffocating, his presence overwhelming. You want to scream, to cry, but your body remains limp, powerless under whatever they’ve drugged you with. You try to focus, to force your eyes open, but it’s like swimming through quicksand.
“She’s pretty,” the driver remarks after a beat. “But not worth all this. You really think she’s the one?”
Max lets out a quiet laugh, a sound that sends chills down your spine. “She is the one. I’ve seen plenty of women, but none like her.”
The driver grunts, unconvinced. “You sound obsessed.”
“I’m not obsessed,” Max corrects him, his tone calm, deliberate. “I’m certain.”
A silence stretches between them, the only sound the hum of the engine and the faint rustle of fabric as Max leans back.
You fight against the drug still clouding your senses, trying to make sense of your surroundings. The luxurious leather beneath you, the soft vibrations of the car — this isn’t just any car. It’s expensive. You can tell by the way it smells, by the subtle way it moves over the road. These men — they aren’t amateurs.
“What’s the plan, then?” The driver asks, breaking the silence. “You can’t just keep her like this.”
Max takes his time responding. “I’ll introduce myself properly once she wakes up. Once she’s calm.”
“And if she’s not?”
“She will be,” Max says, a thread of steel weaving into his voice. “She doesn’t have a choice.”
Your stomach churns. You try again to move, to scream, but nothing comes out. It’s like your body is a prison, and you’re trapped inside, helpless. You feel Max’s gaze on you, heavy, unyielding. Even though you can’t see him, you know he’s watching, waiting.
“You’re insane,” the driver mutters, shaking his head. “This is a bad idea.”
Max doesn’t respond immediately. When he does, his voice is low, quiet, almost intimate. “You don’t understand,” he says. “She belongs to me. I knew it the moment I saw her walk out of that hotel. I could feel it.”
The driver sighs. “I still don’t get it. Why go through all this trouble? She’s just a girl.”
“She’s not just a girl,” Max snaps, his patience thinning. “She’s the girl. The only one.”
Your pulse quickens. You’ve heard enough to know that whatever Max wants from you, it’s not something you can just walk away from. There’s something dangerous about the way he talks about you, like you’re an object, something to be claimed and owned.
“Whatever,” the driver says, clearly done with the conversation. “Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”
“I always do,” Max replies, the confidence back in his voice. “Now, keep driving.”
There’s a shift in the car, a turn, and you feel the momentum change as they head somewhere new. You fight to stay conscious, to fight through the fog in your mind, but it’s getting harder and harder to focus. The drugs are still working their way through your system, and you can feel yourself slipping.
Max leans in closer again, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll wake up soon. And when you do, we’ll start over. Properly this time.”
The car hums beneath you as it continues its journey, and with every second that passes, you feel yourself fading again, drifting away into the darkness.
***
Time slips away, and you don’t know how long you’ve been out when you finally stir. Your eyes flutter open, and the world slowly comes back into focus. The car has stopped, parked somewhere dark and quiet. You can barely move, but you manage to shift slightly, just enough to feel the weight of the leather seat beneath you, the tightness of your clothes against your skin.
There’s a rustle next to you, and then Max is there, leaning over you, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.
“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. “You’re awake.”
You try to speak, but your throat is dry, and all that comes out is a faint croak.
“Shh,” Max soothes, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Don’t try to talk. You’re still a little out of it.”
Your heart races, and you try to push yourself up, but your limbs are still sluggish, your body refusing to obey.
Max watches you for a moment, then smiles. “Don’t worry,” he says. “This will all make sense soon enough.”
You want to scream, to lash out, to fight, but you can’t. You’re trapped, and Max knows it.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, leaning in close, his breath warm against your skin. “And I’ll make sure you understand that.”
Terror grips you, but there’s nothing you can do. Not yet.
Max sits back, his eyes never leaving you, and for the first time, you realize just how much danger you’re in.
The world outside the car is quiet, the faint rustle of leaves the only sound in the stillness. You’re groggy, trying to push through the fog in your mind as Max’s hands move to unbuckle your seatbelt. His touch is efficient, calculated, not gentle. The door opens with a soft click, and you feel the cool night air wash over your skin.
Max leans down, his face close to yours, eyes sharp and watchful. “I’m going to carry you inside,” he says, almost as if he’s giving you permission to protest. But you can’t. You can barely lift your head. The drug still lingers, turning your limbs to lead.
Without another word, he slides his arms under you, lifting you effortlessly. His grip is secure, possessive, and you can feel the strength in his muscles as he carries you out of the car and toward the looming silhouette of a villa in the distance. It’s massive. Larger than anything you’ve ever seen in real life, with sprawling gardens that stretch into the darkness. The villa itself is lit from within, a soft glow spilling through tall windows. It’s beautiful in a cold, detached way, like a piece of art you can admire but never touch.
As Max carries you up the long driveway, his pace is steady, unhurried. He isn’t worried about anyone seeing him. He’s confident. Why wouldn’t he be? There’s no one around. No one to help.
“Where are you taking me?” You manage to whisper, your voice weak but steady enough to ask the question that’s been burning in your mind.
Max doesn’t stop walking. He doesn’t even look at you. “Home,” he replies simply.
You swallow, the word landing like a stone in your chest. “This isn’t-”
“It will be,” he cuts you off, his voice calm, like he’s already made up his mind about everything. “You’ll see.”
You try to focus, to take in every detail. The way the villa seems to stretch forever, the heavy scent of flowers in the air, the distant hum of the sea. The weight of Max’s arms around you, the way his fingers press into your skin as though he’s afraid you might slip away.
But you’re not slipping anywhere.
He carries you through the grand entrance, past doors that swing open with ease, revealing a marble-floored foyer that’s so pristine, it feels untouched. There’s a quietness to the place, a hollow, echoing silence that sends a chill down your spine.
The sound of Max’s shoes against the marble floor is steady, rhythmic, as he carries you through the house. You catch glimpses of rooms as you pass — an opulent dining room with a crystal chandelier, a sitting room with velvet chairs and enormous windows. But it’s all a blur, your mind struggling to hold on to details as exhaustion pulls at you.
Finally, Max stops in front of a set of tall double doors. He shifts you slightly in his arms, then pushes one of the doors open with his shoulder. The room beyond is lavish, even more opulent than the rest of the villa. The bed is massive, draped in silk and velvet, with heavy curtains framing the windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. The walls are lined with dark wood, polished to a shine, and a crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting soft light across the room.
Max walks over to the bed, lowering you gently onto the soft mattress. Your body sinks into the silk sheets, and for a moment, it feels like you’re floating. But the comfort is fleeting, replaced quickly by the suffocating weight of reality.
He stands over you, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s searching for something. “This is where you’ll stay for now,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact. “Until you understand.”
You blink, struggling to keep your thoughts from spiraling out of control. “Understand what?”
Max’s lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile. “That you belong here. With me.”
You want to argue, to scream, to do anything to break through the haze that’s clouding your mind. But the words catch in your throat, and all you can manage is a shaky breath.
Max moves to the foot of the bed, his hands clasped behind his back as he regards you with that same unnerving calm. “This is the beginning,” he says softly. “The conditioning will start now.”
Your heart lurches. Conditioning. The word feels clinical, detached, like something out of a textbook. But the way Max says it makes it clear that this is no abstract concept. This is real. It’s happening to you.
“What are you talking about?” You whisper, forcing the words past the lump in your throat.
Max steps closer, his gaze steady, almost gentle. “You’re going to learn to associate certain things with me. Pleasure, comfort, safety. And you’ll learn that being without me ... hurts.” He says it so simply, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Your stomach twists. “You can’t ... you can’t do this.”
“I already am,” he replies smoothly, his eyes dark and unreadable. “The process is simple. Every time you wake up, you’ll feel better when I’m here. Worse when I’m not. Eventually, it’ll become instinct. You’ll crave my presence. You’ll need me.”
Your breath quickens, panic rising in your chest. “You’re insane.”
Max tilts his head slightly, as though considering your words. “Maybe,” he says, almost casually. “But that doesn’t change anything.”
Before you can respond, there’s a knock at the door. Max doesn’t react, doesn’t even turn to look as the door swings open. A man enters, dressed in a white coat, carrying a small bag in one hand. He’s older, with graying hair and a sharp, clinical air about him. He looks at you briefly, then turns his attention to Max.
“Everything’s prepared,” the man says, his voice clipped and professional.
Max nods. “Good. Let’s begin.”
The man moves to the side of the bed, setting his bag down on the nightstand. You try to push yourself up, but your body still feels sluggish, uncooperative. Fear surges through you as the man opens the bag, pulling out a syringe filled with clear liquid.
“Wait,” you rasp, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Please, don’t do this.”
Max moves closer, his gaze fixed on you. “It’s for your own good,” he says softly. “You’ll understand soon.”
The physician takes your arm, finding a vein with practiced ease. You flinch, but the needle is in before you can even protest. The liquid burns as it enters your bloodstream, a slow, creeping warmth that spreads through your body.
Your vision starts to blur again, the edges of the room fading into darkness. Max’s voice is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.
“You’ll wake up soon,” he says, his voice gentle, almost soothing. “And when you do, I’ll be here. Right where I belong.”
***
The next time you open your eyes, it feels like hours have passed. Maybe days. You’re not sure. The room is the same, the heavy curtains drawn, the chandelier casting its soft glow across the dark wood and silk.
Max is there, sitting in a chair by the bed, watching you. His presence is like a weight in the room, something you can feel even before you fully register it. The sight of him sends a strange warmth through your chest, a flicker of something you don’t want to acknowledge.
“You’re awake,” he says, his voice low and steady.
You blink, trying to shake off the fog that still clings to your mind. “What ... what did you do?”
Max leans forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I told you,” he says softly. “The conditioning has begun.”
You try to sit up, but your body feels weak, drained. The drug — whatever they gave you — is still working its way through your system, dulling your senses. But even through the haze, you can feel it. The strange pull toward Max, the inexplicable comfort that his presence brings. It’s wrong. It’s all wrong.
“You can’t-” you start, but your voice falters. The words don’t come as easily as they should.
Max stands, moving to the side of the bed. “I know it’s confusing right now,” he says, his tone almost kind. “But it’ll get easier. The more time we spend together, the more natural it’ll feel. You’ll stop fighting it.”
You shake your head, trying to clear the fog. “I’ll never-”
“You will,” Max interrupts, his voice firm but not harsh. “You don’t have a choice.”
He reaches out, brushing a hand over your hair, his touch gentle but possessive. The warmth that spreads through you at the contact is immediate, overwhelming, and you hate it. You hate the way your body responds, the way your mind seems to betray you.
“I’ll leave you for now,” Max says, pulling his hand back. “But don’t worry. I won’t be gone long.”
Your heart races as he steps away, moving toward the door. The thought of him leaving sends a sharp pang through your chest, and you can’t understand why. This is what you want. To be free of him. To be alone.
But as the door closes behind him, the room suddenly feels colder, emptier. The warmth he left behind begins to fade, replaced by an aching void that gnaws at you from the inside.
You close your eyes, trying to fight it, trying to cling to your own thoughts, but the emptiness crashes over you like a tidal wave. It’s immediate — sharp and suffocating, spreading through your body like a cold fog. You close your eyes, trying to focus on anything else, but the ache pulses deep inside you. Your muscles tense as though they’re bracing against a storm, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
The room feels unbearably quiet without him, as though the air has been sucked out, leaving only a hollow silence behind. You hate this. You hate how quickly your body has betrayed you, how quickly the comfort of his presence has taken root inside you.
This is wrong, you tell yourself. It’s the drugs, the conditioning.
But the longer he’s gone, the more unbearable the ache becomes. It’s subtle at first, like a distant pressure, but it grows stronger, clawing at your insides until every nerve feels raw and exposed. Your breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps as you fight against the pull, but it’s relentless.
Time stretches out. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying there, staring up at the ceiling, but it feels like an eternity. Every second without him feels like a thousand needles pressing into your skin. Your body screams for relief, for the warmth of his presence to soothe the burning ache inside you.
You grit your teeth, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. This isn’t real, you think, but your body doesn’t care. All it knows is that it hurts.
And then, after what feels like an eternity, the door opens.
The relief is instant. The moment Max steps into the room, the ache that’s been gnawing at you recedes, replaced by a wave of warmth that rushes through your veins. You hate it. You hate how quickly the pain fades, how easily your body responds to him, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
Max walks in slowly, his eyes locked on you, taking in every detail of your face as if reading the changes in your expression. You don’t need to speak for him to know what you’re feeling. He can see it. He can see how desperate your body is for the comfort he brings, even though your mind is screaming for it to stop.
“I told you,” Max says softly, moving closer to the bed. “You’ll feel better when I’m here.”
You don’t respond. You can’t. Your throat feels tight, the words trapped inside you, and the worst part is you don’t know if they’d come out as anger or something worse.
Max sits on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. The touch is gentle, careful, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m here to make you feel good,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “That’s what I’ll always do. As long as you behave for me.”
You swallow hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you. He says it like a promise, like he genuinely believes that he’s helping you.
“I don’t need you,” you manage to whisper, your voice shaking. “I don’t want this.”
Max’s smile is soft, almost pitying. “Your body says otherwise.” His fingers trail down your cheek, brushing against your skin. “You can fight it all you want, but you’ll always feel better when I’m close. That’s the way it’s going to be.”
You try to pull away from his touch, but your body betrays you, craving the warmth and relief that comes with his proximity. The ache that had threatened to consume you moments ago is gone, replaced by a simmering heat that spreads through your limbs, making your skin tingle under his fingertips.
Max watches you closely, his eyes dark and calculating as he gauges your reaction. “See?” He murmurs, his voice soft and coaxing. “You’re already starting to understand.”
“I hate you,” you whisper, but even as you say the words, your body is reacting to him, leaning into his touch despite the protests screaming in your mind.
Max doesn’t flinch at your words. If anything, he seems amused. “Hate me if you want,” he says, his tone light. “But your body knows the truth.”
His hand moves lower, trailing down your arm, sending a ripple of sensation through you that you can’t control. Your breath catches in your throat as the warmth intensifies, and you clench your fists, trying to fight the pull.
Max’s fingers skim the edge of your dress, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches the way your body reacts. “You’ll feel good, I promise,” he whispers. “Better than you’ve ever felt before.”
You shake your head, panic rising in your chest. “No-”
But Max doesn’t stop. His hand slips under the fabric of your dress, his touch deliberate and slow as he hikes it up over your thighs, exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and something you don’t want to name thrumming through your veins.
“Shh,” Max soothes, his voice steady. “You’ll learn to trust me. To need me. It’s already happening.”
You try to close your legs, but his hands are firm, guiding you open, controlling the movement of your body as if you’re nothing more than a doll in his hands. A small, broken sound escapes your throat, but he doesn’t stop, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin, making your pulse quicken.
“I told you I’d make you feel good,” he says softly, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You don’t have to fight it.”
Tears prick at your eyes, your chest heaving with shallow, uneven breaths. You want to scream, to kick, to fight him off, but the weight of your own body holds you down. And worse — the warmth that follows his touch, the heat building in your core, it betrays you. You can’t stop the way your body reacts to him, no matter how much you want to.
Max shifts, his knee pressing against the bed as he leans over you, his hand sliding higher under your dress. His fingers graze the edge of your underwear, and your breath hitches, panic and unwanted anticipation coiling together inside you.
“Please,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “Don’t.”
But Max doesn’t listen. His hand slips beneath the fabric, his fingers brushing against you, and the sensation is overwhelming. You arch against him involuntarily, your body moving without your consent, and the heat inside you builds, the ache that had threatened to consume you earlier morphing into something entirely different.
“You’ll come to love this,” Max says, his tone calm, confident. “In time, you’ll crave it.”
You want to scream that he’s wrong, that you’ll never crave this, but your body doesn’t listen. It reacts to his touch, to the way his fingers move, coaxing a response out of you that you can’t control.
Max’s other hand moves to your hair, brushing it back gently as he leans down, his lips close to your ear. “Let go,” he whispers. “Stop fighting it. I’ll take care of you.”
Your breath is ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as the heat builds inside you, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge, caught between the need to escape and the unbearable sensation that’s pushing you closer to a precipice you don’t want to fall over.
“I’ll always make you feel good,” Max murmurs, his fingers moving faster over your clit, his voice a steady, calming presence in the storm raging inside you. “As long as you’re good for me.”
Your body tenses, the wave crashing over you, pulling you under. You gasp, your back arching off the bed as the sensation overwhelms you, drowning out every thought, every protest, until there’s nothing left but the blinding heat of release.
Max’s hand stills, his touch softening as the aftershocks ripple through you, and he watches, his expression unreadable as you come undone beneath him. You hate it. You hate every second of it. But the worst part is that your body craves it.
Max leans back, his hand trailing away from you, leaving your skin burning in its absence. He stands, adjusting his sleeves as though nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
“You did well,” he says, his voice soft, almost tender. “I’ll leave you to rest now.”
Your body is limp, your mind spinning as you try to process what’s just happened. The ache is gone, replaced by an empty exhaustion that weighs heavily on your limbs.
Max heads toward the door, pausing only briefly to glance back at you. “Remember,” he says quietly, his eyes dark and intense. “You’ll always feel better when I’m here.”
Then he’s gone, the door closing softly behind him.
You lie there, staring at the ceiling, the echo of his touch still lingering on your skin. The room is silent again, but this time the silence isn’t cold. It’s suffocating, pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, and for the first time since you arrived in this place, you realize just how trapped you are.
And worst of all, you know that he’s right.
***
The door opens again.
This time, when you hear it, your body doesn’t flood with fear, or even confusion — it’s anticipation. The ache that had returned in his absence is quickly soothed as Max steps into the room, his presence undeniable, filling the space with a charged energy that you’ve come to crave.
His steps are measured, deliberate, as he crosses the room to you. There’s no hesitation in his movement, no uncertainty. He knows exactly what he’s doing and what you both agreed upon. The room feels smaller when he’s in it, like the walls close in, but in a way that feels safe, protected — like nothing can touch you except him.
Max’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile as he comes to the side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. He says nothing at first, letting the moment linger between you, thick and heavy. You’re not sure if you should speak or wait for him to break the silence.
He doesn’t make you wait long.
“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, his voice like velvet as he leans down, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “You were perfect.”
There’s a flutter of warmth in your chest at the praise, something that makes you feel both proud and vulnerable all at once. You blink up at him, your body still exhausted from what just happened, but there’s something comforting about the way he’s looking at you now. The way his hand reaches out to caress your cheek, tender and affectionate, as if to erase any remnants of the harshness from before.
“I wasn’t sure if you could handle it,” Max continues, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with an intimacy that feels far more personal than anything he’s done before. “But you did. You always do, don’t you?”
You nod, your throat tight, the words caught somewhere between your mind and your mouth. You can’t quite shake the feeling of how intense everything was, how quickly it all escalated. But now, with him here, touching you like this, the pieces of the scene start to fall away, revealing what lies underneath.
Max watches you, waiting for your response, but he’s patient. He always is, especially after something like this. He knows you need time to come back down, to find your footing after the role you’ve both played.
“Was it … okay?” You manage to ask, your voice still soft and hesitant. There’s a vulnerability in your tone, a need for reassurance, even though you know how he feels.
Max’s eyes soften, and he leans down to kiss you — soft, slow, and deliberate. His lips linger against yours, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss. It’s a different kind of intensity now, one that speaks to the connection you both share. When he finally pulls back, there’s a hint of amusement in his gaze.
“More than okay,” he whispers. “You were incredible.”
The tension that had been coiled inside you loosens at his words, and you feel yourself relax against the pillows. Max’s praise always has this effect on you, like it fills in the cracks and makes everything feel right again.
“I love you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your lower lip as he studies your face. “Every second of it was perfect because it was with you.”
The weight of those words settles into your chest, grounding you in the reality of what you both share. It’s all an act — a scene you agreed upon. Max has always been careful, always made sure you were okay with everything. That’s how it works between you two. The intensity, the control, the power dynamic — it’s all part of the game, part of what you’ve both built together. But underneath it all is the love, the trust that binds you to him.
He presses another kiss to your lips, softer this time, a gesture of affection rather than dominance. When he pulls away, there’s a lightness in his expression, a warmth that makes the remnants of the scene melt away completely.
“I have something for you,” he says, standing up and walking toward the door. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
You watch as he exits the room, the anticipation building again, though this time it’s mixed with curiosity. Moments later, Max returns, pushing a small cart laden with trays of food. The smell hits you first — rich, savory, and mouthwatering. Your stomach growls in response, reminding you that you haven’t eaten in what feels like forever.
Max notices, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a satisfied smile. “I thought you might be hungry.”
You sit up slightly, propping yourself on your elbows as Max wheels the cart over to the side of the bed. He lifts the lids from the trays, revealing an array of delicacies — perfectly grilled meats, roasted vegetables, fresh fruit, and decadent desserts. It’s more than just a meal, it’s a feast.
“Let me,” Max says, reaching for a fork. He cuts a small piece of steak and holds it out to you, his eyes watching your every movement, waiting for you to take the first bite.
You hesitate for only a moment before leaning forward, letting him feed you. The flavors burst across your tongue, rich and savory, and you can’t help the small sound of appreciation that escapes your lips.
Max’s smile widens. “Good?”
You nod, swallowing before responding. “It’s amazing.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and there’s that familiar warmth in his voice again, the praise sinking into your skin like sunlight. He cuts another piece of food, feeding it to you before leaning in to kiss you between bites.
Each kiss is soft, slow, and filled with an affection that feels worlds away from the intensity of earlier. You sink into the moment, into the comfort of his presence, letting yourself be taken care of.
“You were so perfect for me,” Max whispers between kisses, his lips brushing against your cheek. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”
You smile softly, feeling the tension of the day melt away as you let him feed you, let him take care of you. There’s something intimate about the act, something grounding. It’s not just about the food — it’s about the connection, the way he looks at you with such devotion in his eyes.
Max takes his time, savoring the moment as much as you are. He alternates between feeding you and stealing kisses, each one a little longer, a little deeper than the last. His hands are gentle as they move over your skin, brushing your hair back, cupping your face, his touch always lingering just a little longer than necessary.
“You have no idea how proud I am of you,” he murmurs against your lips. “The way you trust me, the way you let go. It’s everything I could ever want.”
You close your eyes, leaning into him, the warmth of his words settling deep inside you. It’s always like this after a scene — the tenderness, the closeness. Max knows how to bring you back, how to make you feel safe and loved after everything.
“I couldn’t do it without you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
Max pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression softening even more. “We do this together. That’s what makes it so special.”
There’s a weight to his words, a promise that echoes in the quiet of the room. You nod, knowing it’s true. You wouldn’t be able to do any of this without him — not the scenes, not the intensity, not the way you let yourself go completely when you’re with him.
Max leans in again, kissing you deeply this time, his hands cradling your face as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. When he finally pulls away, there’s a hunger in his eyes, but it’s not the same hunger from earlier. This one is softer, more intimate, and it makes your heart swell in your chest.
“I love you,” he says again, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I love you too,” you reply, the words coming easily, naturally, because they’re the truest thing you know.
Max smiles, a slow, satisfied smile that makes your stomach flip. He reaches for one of the desserts on the tray — a small piece of chocolate cake — and holds it out to you. You take a bite, and before you can even swallow, Max is kissing you again, his lips tasting of chocolate and sweetness.
“You taste so good,” he murmurs against your lips, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of kisses and laughter, the food slowly disappearing from the trays as Max continues to feed you, praising you with every bite and every kiss. The intensity of earlier is long gone, replaced by something deeper, something that feels like home.
And as you lie there in his arms, sated and content, you know that no matter what happens, no matter how intense the scenes get, you’ll always have this — this quiet, tender intimacy that belongs to just the two of you.
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PAC: Random Messages for You
Hi friends! Thought I’d do something tarot related instead of astrology today. Do enjoy and let me know your feedback down below! <: it means a lot to me and this blog.
Pile 1: Hi there pile 1! You may be experiencing a disconnect within your home life, or not even that but a disconnect to spirituality. There may be a lot of shifts and changes happening in your life at the moment, and it feels as though there’s a lot of tension within you. I’m seeing a box and it keeps folding in on itself, imploding not exploding. All that tension is really sitting within you. I encourage some (I heard bath therapy) so maybe some of you like to take baths with herbs, crystals, and candles. Do that! There may be some uninvited energy around you at the moment. Also some of you need sleep. Rest. Stay off the phone before bedtime, and if you can, meditate! Meditation can look different, for some its sitting in nature, going on a walk, or laying there. There’s a really huge shift here—I don’t think you expected this ending to have happened either with someone you loved or this disconnect either spirituality. I almost feel as if there’s this longing, but also hopeless feeling of: “why? Spirit? Why me?” And I heard: it matters where you are. So, if you’re in an environment where there are people taking advantage of you how can you set boundaries? What do you need? How can you make this process easier for you? It’s likely these people or this place is contributing to your issues at the moment. I also believe spirit wants to let you know that they hear you and are there for you <3 “it matters where you are,” they know, they’ve heard your prayers. If you need confirmation this is it. Journaling can help a ton, there’s a lot of mental energy but in the sense that its squashed. Normally you feel pretty upbeat but it almost feels as if there’s defeat and its a little too silent with all the things you wish to say. Express yourself. Cry it out. I also heard hug it out! So hug it out if you can with a friend, hugging yourself, or hugging a stuffed animal. Yoga may be great for releasing trapped emotions in the body too. I hope you feel better pile 1 <3 thank you for your support and being here.
Pile 2: Hi there pile 2! Welcome! For you I feel as though there’s a lot of green energy around you at the moment. It surrounds you like a garden! I can see your aura with vines, curling up to protect your space and flowers blooming all around. So beautiful! Im also hearing it took a long time to tend to this garden, so you really did take a lot of time to focus on your confidence, healing and transformation. Im also seeing a mermaid emerge from the sea and she’s by the moon. She looks carefree! That’s you. I feel as though you’re learning to vibe with being alone and being okay with being single, although you don’t necessarily have to be. You may be in a position of power in your career now or in the future will be. Im seeing someone grab a book and write down all their ideas and goals—with this determination in mind to make it happen! You may be a fixed sign or have multiple (Leo, Aquarius, Scorpio, Taurus) and suddenly it manifests. This is the kind of success you’ve been building up towards. I also heard this is the success where I feel at peace within myself. Its not necessarily about external factors (although it could be like owning a house—I heard that) its more so the peace that comes with trusting yourself now after all these years. I also see your third eye is open which is revealing to you things that were hidden before. Hidden knowledge. Im seeing spirit is giving you these messages as if its sacred—you’re drinking out of a golden goblet and its this magical juice lmao. Some of ya’ll have very imaginative inner childs and love to concoct stories, so maybe your inner child is out and about! I legit see your inner child dressed like a diva with their sunglasses, sparkly pink kitten heels to slay the day away! So cute. I just feel you have mended that relationship sincerely. You could be a: pisces, pisces 5h/1h, aries, leo, sag, cancer placements. I also see this is an important time for harvesting results. I heard: there is result beyond fear. There is relief beyond fear. On the other side of fear there is joy. So perhaps this has been a mantra for you. I see EFT tapping therapy, so maybe some of you engaged in this. I see breath work, learning to work with your energy. I heard kundalini as well! So some of you may certainly be focused on spirituality and practices. Your inner child is so important—literally hearing their words of awe at the world. Your encouragement means so much to them right now, it’s as if they’re allowing themselves to express themselves again! Thanks pile 2 for being here <3 means a lot to me!
Pile 3: Hey ya’ll it’s 10:10 as I write this so there’s a strong presence of spiritual support! Love that. You guys might be a virgo rising, have virgo placements, virgo 2h, or strong mercurial aspects. An exalted mercury even! I see that for you guys there’s this hazy thick fog. It feels as though your energy is very much guarded and anyone who tries to come in is maybe hit with a wave of confusion. Kind of like they’re stunned. Its kind of cartoonish, and silly. But I see this as a protective mechanism! You guys have been focused on getting your life together especially your finances. You could be budgeting more, spending less, and overall grinding. Keep it on the low and hustling. I also lots of self care so maybe you’ve switched your routine, you’re getting your hair done, nails, lashes, etc. You want to feel your best self and Im literally seeing your spirit team cheer and fist bump. Its like they’ve been wanting you to love yourself and—“finally you got the message,” is what I heard 😭 I’m also hearing “pump it up,” I know its a song, its pop music, really catchy. There’s a lot of happy bright energy surrounding you and I think you’re really feeling yourself. And I think that anyone who tries to disturb your peace I literally see you putting on sunglasses to act like they don’t exist. I feel like you guys are also really funny which people don’t expect—you have a very dry humor and might be great and stand up comedy. I also feel your phone is filled with a bunch of memes to go on the daily. It’s on butt dial at this point. I feel as though you appear intimidating but you’re really funny, chill, and grounded. You may have taurus/Capricorn placements as well. Lots of earth! Maybe all your big 3 is earth. I feel as though you’re being told to enjoy yourself and have fun! Let loose and chuck the ruled aside momentarily. It wouldn’t hurt to let go. I think for so long you’ve been hustling and grinding—so its time to celebrate how far you came! You may attracting suitors or attention is what I heard lol, lots of eyes on you! Especially through this transformation. I see you going from alone to suddenly everyone is around you. So maybe you’re graduating, getting that promotion, it’s your birthday, or there’s an event coming up! This is really going to help you feel your best self <3 Im also hearing euro pop music, so maybe ya’ll are into that. And dream of euro pop blasting in clubs (bring back this era) I dont know if you know Inna and her music. “Hot” by inna is playing! But thanks pile 3 for being here! Sincerely appreciate it all. Your feedback means a lot to me.
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Stars all aligned - Chapter 14
Summary:
If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.
They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.
Warning:
I'll keep the warnings, even though there is no outright mention in this part: Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Accidental Baby Procurement
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)
“I want to go home,” Zahra said softly, Azalea slumbering safely between them. His mate, his wife… she was subtly golden glowing that morning, looking like the sun incarnate.
It was more obvious now…or maybe he just saw it more than he had before. Or maybe it was because Zahra was happy. Content.
“Are you sure, sunshine?” He asked her softly, his thumb tracing her cheek. “There is no need to rush.”
There wasn’t.
He was willing to take all the time in the world right here in Rosehall with the two of them. And maybe a part of him…a part of him was hoping for some more time before the insanity of their family was going to descend on them.
Azriel didn’t believe for one moment that that was over already.
“I want her to come home to the cottage,” Zahra said softly. “Though we’ll need to figure out some way to…extend it maybe?“
They had talked about it before in passing, comments about adding an office… but now they would be adding a nursery. And maybe other rooms as well when they were already at it.
Azriel could feel the warmth of his mate’s body against his, their daughter sleeping peacefully between them. He was acutely aware of her golden glow, of her scent, of the press of her hand against his chest. The knowledge that this female, this beautiful, strong, incredible person, was bound to him for eternity was a heady joy. A light in the darkness.
He pressed a soft kiss to Zahra’s forehead, his wings curling around them again.
"Of course, Sunshine," he murmured against her skin. "We’ll return home."
Whatever she wanted.
Her request was so simple, and yet he understood the importance of it entirely. The cottage was home, yes, but more importantly it was part of their story. Their story together. Their lives with their daughter.
“Your sisters won’t be patient forever,” he warned Zahra nontheless.
It wouldn’t be pretty. He knew that. She knew that too.
Zahra looked at him, fierce green eyes meeting his.
“I don’t care,” she murmured, her gaze steady and unwavering. “I am not going to hide. I am not going to wait because they don’t like me or the choices I made. I don’t care, Azriel,” she told him flatly.
Her fingers brushed against his cheek, her touch gentle yet firm. “Azalea is my priority. You are my priority. I’ll deal with my sisters if I must,” she told him, her voice soft yet filled wth conviction.
Azriel had thought it was impossible to love her more than he already did, but with every look, every word, she proved him wrong.
He couldn't imagine a life without her, without their daughter. He couldn't imagine living without Zahra by his side.
He had found his mate, his love, his everything.
"We belong together," he whispered, his voice full of love and promise.
"Always."
His lips found hers, his hands gently cupping her face as he kissed her.
Her lips were warm and soft against his, and he could feel the love radiating from her.
He wanted to stay in this moment forever. With the beautiful woman he loved more than anything, their daughter nestled between them.
The rest of the world could wait.
All that mattered was this. This moment.
His fingers trailed over her face, tracing the curve of her lips, the line of her jaw.
She was his. And he was hers.
Nothing could ever take that away. Nothing could ever come between them.
Azriel would fight for her, and for their daughter, until the end of time.
She pulled back, resting her forehead against his.
"Besides, I can't ignore them forever," Zahra said quietly.
Azriel chuckled softly against her lips, his hand moving to cup her face gently.
"You could try," he replied softly, a teasing edge to his voice.
He traced her lower lip with his thumb, his gaze locked on hers.
"You should be able to. They owe you at least all the time you want," he told her softly.
Zahra sighed.
"They don't owe me anything," she disagreed quietly.
Azriel frowned at that, his brows furrowing slightly.
He had hoped that she wouldn't say something like that.
He knew that she felt like she didn't deserve anything, that she wasn't owed anything. But it was so untrue.
She deserved everything.
"Zahra…" he began softly, but she cut him off before he could say anything else.
"Stop," she said firmly, her hands gripping his shirt tightly.
She was too gentle. Too kind.
But he knew he couldn't force her to see it the way he did.
He would do anything to protect her, their daughter. Even if it meant accepting her forgiveness of the people who had done her so wrong.
It didn't mean he had to like it though.
He pressed another kiss to Zahra's lips, his hand moving to trace down her spine.
He wanted to protect her, to keep her close and shield her from all that was wrong in the world.
But he also knew that Zahra was strong, that she had the strength to make her own decisions.
Even if he didn't necessarily agree with them.
"You're too damn forgiving," he murmured softly against her lips, his voice husky with emotion.
His hands curled around her body, pulling her close, his lips never leaving hers.
He held her tightly, his body enveloped her in a tight embrace.
“I am not,” Zahra disagreed. “But quite frankly, I would rather not spent my energy on them when I could spent it on Azalea.”
Azriel nodded in agreement, his body still wrapped around her.
He understood her reasoning. It was better to focus on what truly mattered. Their daughter.
"You're right," he murmured against her hair, his wings twitching in agreement. "She is our priority," he said, his voice firm. "Nothing else matters."
Not even his own anger at his family. All that mattered was his wife and daughter.
He leaned back slightly to look at her, his hands running over her back in soft circles.
"I love you," he said softly.
It was a plain truth. Something he felt was worth repeating as often as possible. He knew she was aware of his love for her, but it would never hurt to remind her.
Azalea let out a little noise then, her small hand fisting in Azriel's shirt.
Both of their gazes went to their daughter, their eyes filled with affection. She looked small and so innocent, wrapped up in their embrace.
"There you are, sweetheart," Azriel murmured, a soft smile on his lips.
He let his hand brush over their daughter's head, a feeling of warmth spreading through his chest.
"Just like her mother."
Zahra chuckled softly at the compliment, her eyes twinkling.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Shadowsinger," she teased, her voice low. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Azriel's cheek. "You're lucky you're so good at it."
She winked at him slyly, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
There wasn’t much to pack up. The things Zahra had brought, the chest that houses the few pieces of clothing Esmeray had made for Azalea… Which prompted the shadows curling themselves around his wings, May we go shopping, Master?
Azriel paused at the question, his brows rising in surprise. He should have expected it.
They were an extension of him. The desire to shop for their daughter was simply reflection of his own desire to spoil the little girl. Of course, the shadows would want to buy things for their daughter, he thought. It was quite natural for them to want to provide anything and everything to his child.
"They want to go shopping?" Zahra asked him with some amusement and he realised that they must have spoken loud enough for her to hear. He just shrugged. "Let them," she said easily. "And if you want to buy some furniture, be my guest."
He leaned down to press a kiss to Zahra's cheek, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face to him. "Thank you for understanding," he murmured softly.
"Maybe they'll find a crib for her," Zahra said drily. "I feel like a horrible mother already."
Azriel frowned at that, his brows knotting together. He didn't like her saying that.
She should never feel that way. Ever.
"You're not a horrible mother, sunshine," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "You're a wonderful mother. Our daughter is happy and healthy. That's what matters."
He reached up to cup her face, his thumb tracing over her cheek. "You're doing everything you can for her. And that's all anyone could ever ask for."
Zahra gave him a hesitant smile. "I never want her to feel as alone as I did," she said softly.
Azriel's expression softened at Zahra's words, his heart aching at the thought of her feeling so alone. He'd do everything in his power to make sure she never felt that way again.
"Of course not," he said, his voice soft and full of love. "Our daughter is never going to feel alone. She's going to be surrounded by so much love. From us, from our family. She's going to grow up knowing that she is loved. That we would fight to the ends of the world for her.” He pulled her closer in his arms, his wings wrapping around them. "I promise you," he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her neck. "Our daughter will never feel the way you did. She will be safe and loved. We'll make sure of it. "
The sound of Azalea's soft whimper interrupted any further conversation between them.
"I think she wants something too," Azriel observed with a chuckle, looking at their daughter.
The little girl looked up at them with clear demand in her eyes, her tiny hands reaching out to them.
"Seems like she wants us to pay attention to her," Zahra said with a smile, her expression filled with adoration as she looked down at their daughter.
"Always so demanding, it seems," he quipped with a warm smile.
He reached down to pick up Azalea, holding her gently in his arms.
“Let’s go home,” he said softly.
They promised his mother that they would come to visit soon, and then it was simply a question of him wrapping his wife and daughter into his shadows and winnowing them home to their little cottage.
The world around them shifted and blurred, a surge of darkness and weightlessness as the shadows swirled around them.
And then they were there, standing in the middle of the living room in their cottage.
The shadows had been busy already, Azriel reflected drily. They must have started before even asking for permission.
Zahra gave a shocked laugh, as she saw the bookcases lining one wall of the living room.
The cottage, which had once contained little more than the basics, was now filled with furniture and decorations. A new sofa, that somehow managed to compliment the horrible ugly armchair, and new curtains adorned the main room, along with several of Azalea's new toys and baby supplies.
"This is…a lot," Zahra muttered, looking around their home with wide eyes.
Azriel couldn't help a small, proud smile from forming on his lips. "Did you expect anything less?" he drawled, his voice laced with amusement.
He hadn’t. There was a touch of pride in his gaze at the sight of his mate and daughter in their home.
He shifted their daughter in his arms, the baby's weight a comforting presence against him.
"Are you complaining about how our daughter's needs are being met?" Azriel teased, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of Zahra's hair from her face.
Zahra huffed in response to Azriel's teasing, but there was a smile on her face.
"Of course not," she said with feigned indignation. Zahra wrapped her arms around him and their daughter, her eyes twinkling with humor. "I'm simply astounded by your ability to spoil me and our daughter so thoroughly."
Azriel chuckled, pulling her closer to him, his wings enveloping them both.
"It's not spoiling if it's deserved," he replied, his voice low and husky as his lips brushed against her neck.
A proper bed was in the bedroom now, big enough for them to share, even if Azalea slept with them, which Azriel thought was quite likely.
Zahra stole Azalea who looked around wide eyed and showed her the kitchen her soft voice carrying through the room.
Azriel just watched.
He was filled with a sense of contentment as he watched them together, his chest filing with warmth
The sight of his wife and daughter exploring their new home…he couldn't imagine a life better than this, a family more perfect than what he had.
Rhys? he reached out carefully. We are home.
As Azriel reached out through their link, Rhys’ voice filtered into his mind.
You're home? Everything alright?
The concern in his voice was plain, his tone laced with worry, his surprise palpable.
Everything's fine, Azriel reassured him quickly, his answer swift. The last thing he wanted was for Rhys to be concerned or worried. We're alright. No need to panic. Zahra wanted to bring Azalea home.
Zahra wants to bring her home? Rhys echoed through their mental connection, bewilderment evident in his voice.
Yes, she wanted her home, Azriel affirmed, his voice calm and steady.
He could sense Rhys’ trepidation though, the question in his mind before he even asked it.
A question that they both knew the answer to.
I doubt we'll be able to keep her sisters away for much longer, Rhys warned him quietly.
Azriel's lips pressed into a thin line at Rhys's words, a wave of irritation rising in him.
He knew that. But that didn't meant that Azriel was a fan of it.
If they upset my wife or my daughter, I won't stand for it, he growled.
He knew Rhys could sense his anger through their mental connection, the protectiveness he felt for Zahra and Azalea.
For a moment it was quiet. Then...Your wife? Rhys demanded. Azriel?!
Azriel sighed, realizing that Rhys had picked up on his unintentional slip. He hadn't meant to reveal the truth just yet, but it seemed that he had inadvertently done just that.
Yes, my wife, he admitted softly.
You got married and didn't tell me?! Rhys's voice thundered across their minds in clear surprise and shock.
His reaction was predictable, but Azriel could hear the hint of offence in his voice.
You should shut up, we didn't know about you and feyre either, he shot back.
That's different, was Rhys's only response through the link, his voice almost whining.
Azriel rolled his eyes; Rhys was the High Lord of the Night Court, the most powerful being in their world, and yet he was sulking like a child.
We just wanted something small, just for us, Azriel answered with a mental shrug.
I probably shouldn't even be surprised, Rhys said with a sigh.
We didn't want Azalea to be a bastard, Azriel offered with some amusement.
Rhys’ sigh sounded through the link again before his brother replied through the mental connection.
So you are just being responsible. That’s a first, Rhys teased though his mind, Cassian will insist on throwing you a party, he warned.
Azriel rolled his eyes again; he could already imagine the glee in Cassian's eyes when he found out.
His brother would be relentless.
Let him try, he shot back. He won't get past the shadows.
Rhys laughed aloud at that, the sound echoing through their mental connection.
You underestimate his determination. You know there will be a party, whether you like it or not, Rhys insisted, his tone laced with amusement.
***
Zahra looked around the cottage as she held their daughter in her arms, her eyes taking in the sight of the new furniture and decorations.
There was a new bed, a rocking chair, and toys and supplies for their baby all over the cottage.
“You really went all out,” she said aloud.
But she loved it. She loved all of it.
The cottage had been hers since she won it in that stupid card game...but now...now it was a proper home. Their home. Home for Zahra and her family, for her mate and her daughter. Nothing that she thought she would ever have.
Nothing that she would ever want to lose.
She watched as Azriel settled onto the horrible armchair, his large form taking up the space. He spread his wings out behind him, the sight of them making the space look even smaller. He patted his lap, a clear invitation.
She understood the silent gesture and moved over to him, taking a seat on his lap, their baby on her lap.
Azriel's arms encircled them both, holding them close as he wrapped his wings around them, enveloping them in his warmth.
He dropped a kiss on top of her head, his breathing slow and steady, his heartbeat calm and comforting.
She let her head rest against his chest as his hand moved to stroke Azalea's head.
"I told Rhys about the wedding," he said softly.
Zahra chuckled at that, leaning her head back to look at him.
“How did he take it?” her eyes were filled with curiosity.
Azriel chuckled as well, his fingers gently stroking along her leg, his touch warm and comforting.
“As well as you could expect,” he replied, his voice filled with amusement. “He was shocked and offended that we didn’t tell him or invite him to the wedding. His ego may never recover.”
Zahra just snorted. "It was perfect," she disagreed. "Just us." Just the way she liked it.
The shadows swarmed around them at that, playing with her hair and Azalea squealed as she reached out for one swirling tendril. It held still for her, letting pudgy baby hands grip at it and wove through her fingers excitedly.
Azriel chuckled at the sight their daughter's interaction with his shadows.
"She likes them, huh?" Azriel observed, his voice filled with humour.
Zahra watched as Azalea's pudgy baby hands gripped at the tendril, her wide eyes watching it intently. She couldn’t help but giggle at the look of intense concentration on Azalea’s face.
Another tendril unceremoniously dumped a velvet jewellery box on Zahra's lap at that moment. Like a silent We need to do everything around here!
Zahra's eyebrows rose as the box appeared in her lap, her gaze moving from the box to Azriel.
"And what is this?" she asked, the corner of her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh.
"Open it and find out," Azriel said drily.
Zahra chuckled and rolled her eyes, but her fingers lifted the lid off the box anyway.
She couldn't help her curiosity. As she looked inside, her eyebrows lifted again. "Oh," she breathed, her eyes widening as she took in the contents.
Two matching gold wedding bands laid there in the velvet. Simple. Unassuming.
She had never loved any piece of jewellery more, as she lifted the bigger one to slide it over Azriel's ring finger.
Azriel watched silently as she put the ring on his finger, his expression tender and soft.
And as she moved to put her own ring on, his hand stopped her.
"No," he said firmly, his voice low and demanding. She looked at him, surprised by his denial. "Why?" she protested, her eyes narrowing slightly.
Azriel gave her a sly smile as he took the smaller ring from her hands, his fingers gently caressing her skin.
"Because that’s my job,” he said simply.
Zahra's breath caught in her throat at his words, the intensity in his voice making her heart race. She swallowed, her eyes darting between the ring and his face. "Is that so?" she replied, the words coming out huskier than she’d intended.
Azriel's lips curled into a smirk as he heard the change in her voice. His grip on her hand tightened as he brought her fingers up to his lips, his eyes darkened further as he kissed them softly.
He took the ring then in his free hand, holding it between them. "It is," he answered firmly. "I am your husband."
Her lips parted in surprise at his demand, a flutter of anticipation in her chest. Azriel's eyes remained focused on hers, his gaze burning with a possessiveness that should have scared her.
Instead, all it did was make her want him more.
Her mind went blank as he gently picked up her ring finger and, with a single fluid movement, eased the gold wedding band over it.
Zahra’s heart skipped a beat when he slid the ring onto her finger, his touch lingering on her hand for a moment longer than necessary.
He held up her hand and turned it gently, studying the ring on her finger with an expression of satisfaction.
"It looks good on you," he said, his voice low and rough. His gaze flicked up to hers, his eyes almost glittering.
Azalea took that moment to yawn. Zahra couldn’t help but coo slightly. Azalea's little yawn caught Azriel's attention, and his gaze immediately moved to the baby in her lap. His lips curled into a soft smile at the sight of her.
"Someone's sleepy," he said, his voice filled with affection.
He reached out his hand to run it over her soft hair, watching as the baby's eyes fluttered closed.
“Let’s lay her down for a nap and I’ll tell Violet that we are back home,” Zahra said softly. And probably ask her for…well. They needed to figure out the childcare situation after all. No more 10 hours days hunched over her kitchen table..but then she had made quite the dent in the accounts of a few decades already.
Azriel nodded, his eyes still fixed on their sleeping daughter.
"Yeah, that's a good idea," he agreed, his voice soft. "I'll take her."
He stood up, carefully picking up Azalea in his arms. The baby shifted slightly, but then settled back into a deep, peaceful sleep against his chest.
Zahra had not expected for Violet to show up at her front door 3 hours later, out of breath and shoving a gift bag into Zahra’s arms. “The next time you get a baby, I need a forewarning!” Violet declared. Zahra couldn’t help laughing heartily, her eyes glittering in amusement.
Violet’s declaration and the breathlessness in her voice were priceless. She took the gift from her friend’s hands. “You want to meet her?” Zahra teased, her voice filled with affection.
Violet, still huffing and catching her breath, gave her a mock glare. "You really are not funny," she said in an irritated tone.
But despite her irritation, there was a small hint of a smile on her lips. Zahra could see the affection in her eyes.
“Of course I do!” Violet said brightly.
Zahra opened the door wide.
As Violet entered the cottage, her eyes immediately went to Azalea and Azriel, who were sitting on the floor, engrossed in their game.
She watched as Azriel carefully played with their daughter, his big hands surprisingly gentle and tender.
The sight was nothing less than heart melting.
“Oh, she’s adorable,” Violet cooed. Zahra chuckled, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement.
She had never expected her friend to swoon like an enamored girl.
“She is, isn’t she?” Zahra agreed with a smile, her heart swelling with maternal pride.
Violet moved further into the room, her eyes still fixed on Azalea as she stepped closer to them.
Zahra watched as the baby giggled happily, her tiny hand reaching out to grab Azriel's fingers.
Zahra could see the tender look in Azriel's eyes as he played with their daughter, his expression filled with love and adoration. And then Azalea spied Violet and started at her wide eyed, dark eyes fixed on the purple wings sprouting from Violet’s back.
She stared at them intently, her expression filled with fascination and awe.
Azriel chuckled at his daughter's reaction, his hand gently stroking her head.
"Seems like she’s quite interested in your wings," he commented, his eyes sparkling in amusement.
He watched as Azalea reached out a small hand toward Violet, her tiny fingers grasping for the shimmering wings.
Violet couldn't help but smile at the baby's interest.
She bent down slightly, bringing her wings closer to Azalea, giving her a better view.
Zahra chuckled at the scene before her.
"Yeah, she’s like a moth drawn to a flame," she joked.
Azalea’s small hand grabbed onto Violet’s wing, her grasp surprisingly firm for such a small baby.
She tugged at the wing gently, clearly curious about the strange appendage.
Violet winced slightly at the unexpected grip but laughed, not seeming bothered by it.
Azriel shook his head, amused by the scene unfolding before him.
"Careful, she's surprisingly strong for being so small," he warned, a fond smile on his face.
Violet just laughed. “Gods, she’s adorable,” she gushes. “Yes, you are!” She cooed at Azalea.
Azalea beamed at the attention, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Her tiny hand released its grip on Violet's wing and she clapped her hands together, as if applauding the compliment.
Zahra chuckled at her daughter's reaction. "She likes you," she observed.
“Clearly,” Violet agreed, her smile growing wider. “She has impeccable taste.”
She reached out a finger, gently tickling Azalea's stomach, prompting the baby to giggle and squirm.
Zahra watched the exchange between her baby and her best friend, her heart swelling with happiness.
"I think she has a talent for endearing herself to everyone," Azriel added, his voice filled with pride.
He watched as Violet continued to interact with their daughter, her hand moving from Azalea's stomach to her tiny hands, which clutched at Violet's finger.
"Must get that from her mother," Violet teased, giving Zahra a playful wink.
Zahra snorted in response, rolling her eyes but unable to contain the smile on her face.
"Oh, please. I don’t see you being immune to her either," she shot back.
Violet laughed out loud at that, admitting defeat with a shrug. "Touché. Your baby’s too cute for her own good."
She turned her attention back to Azalea, her eyes sparkling with playfulness.
Azalea responded gleefully to the attention, her wide eyes fixed on Violet, her attention unwavering as if she couldn’t get enough of her. She cooed and babbled, her hands continuing to grasp at Violet’s finger.
Azriel chuckled at the interaction, enjoying the way his daughter was so enthralled by his mate's friend.
He exchanged a glance with Zahra, his smile mirroring hers.
Zahra couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. Seeing her daughter enjoying herself and being showered by adoration was a sight she could get used to.
#acotar fanfiction#azriel x oc#azriel x reader#azriel fanfiction#azriel fanfic#Azriel x Archeron!Reader#Stars all aligned
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Seduction by the Shores
Pairing: Luke Castellan x GN!Reader (implied pussy lol)
Warning: NSFW, set before tlt, smut, PWP, piv, semi-public sex, doing it on the wet ground, dom!Luke to slightly sub!Luke and back to soft dom!Luke, choking, going in raw and creampie (wrap it before you tap it!), slight aftercare.
Word count: 5.3k+ (I got carried away).
A/N: In the wise of SZA, “now I’m ovulating and I need rough sex.” So I'm back again with another fic. Weirdly enough, I reappeared last year just to write a smut fic and leave (oops). I usually have a summary for this, but this is just pure smut.
Edit A/N: Partial credits to supercutsszn (details on why in comments)
!Not readproof! I’m too lazy to reread my own writing.
Everyone loves Luke Castellan.
He’s the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood. Handsome, generous, and kind. Helps out the new kids. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. You’d even love Luke if you didn’t know better. Maybe you did anyway.
But you've always known there's more to him than his charming exterior. You've seen his eyes change like they're hiding something. That shift happens mostly when his father is mentioned, and he tense up. You've tried to avoid him, but he always seems to find you. One night, he caught you by the lake, his eyes kind but troubled. "I'm guessing you're not having a great night."
For all his charm and charisma, Luke Castellan is more than just the beloved golden boy of Camp Half-Blood; he's a human being with a complex inner world, one that's filled with secrets and conflicts. Despite his best efforts to hide it, at times, his inner struggles emerge, leaving you to wonder just how much more there might be to Luke than meets the eye.
You glanced over at him watching him approach you but kept your quiet. Luke sits down next to you, close, but not touching.
Luke looks at you, waiting for a comment or an explanation. The lake is beautiful, shining in the moonlight. It's actually quite a lovely scene, he's not sure why you'd be miserable here. He has this habit of looking at you without actually looking at you, somehow making it feel more personal.
"I could help with that, you know? Make your night a little more fun."
"Don't start with me, Castellan." You simply commented, rolling your eyes as your gaze stayed staring at the lake.
You can't tell if he smiles or not, but he laughs before speaking. It's actually just adorable when his lips curl up. Luke leans closer, not much. Just enough to make you a little anxious.
"How was I starting anything? I was trying to brighten your mood. I bet I could help."
Something comes into his eyes, a darkness.
His voice is still the smiling flirty guy that everyone loves, but his tone changes a little.
"Besides... you look so miserable. I've always been really good at fixing people's moods. It's one of my best qualities."
He leans a little closer than before. Close enough that you can smell the honey, citrus scent coming from his cologne. You're not sure if he does that intentionally, but he's quite close now.
"Come on now, you know you can tell me. Maybe I could put a smile on that pretty little face."
"You could, but I might have to kill you after." That made him smirk. The way he's looking at you... Oh Gods.
"You can try, you know I'd get you right before you got me, though. I'm too quick." He grinned. He was flirting, he always flirted, but there was something else in his eyes. Something darker.
"Come on, what could be so serious?"
“Not gonna talk it out of me, Castellan." You closed your eyes before lying down on the ground. The ground was damp but it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, finding comfort just lying there.
He smiles and lies down right next to you.
Too close now, too close. You're practically on top of each other but he doesn't pull away.
The grass is very green, the lake is a beautiful dark blue. It's actually quite peaceful here. The air is still but not too cold.
"You're too stubborn sometimes. Why won't you tell me?" His hand brushes her hair absentmindedly. "You can talk to me, even if you don't want to."
"I feel like if someone doesn't want to, they won't talk." You pointed out the obvious, slowly glancing up at him again.
Luke smiles, his hand resting on your head now. He's actually being surprisingly gentle.
His eyes are so hypnotic in this light. His voice grows softer, a hint of that darkness in it still. “I like to make people change their minds. You would talk if I got you into the right mood."
"Not gonna happen."
"Really now?" He leans in just close enough to almost kiss you. He's still smiling, his voice a little bit softer, a little bit more husky.
"You're stubborn." He said, lightly tapping your nose. "I'm stubborn. We can stay like this all night if you want. But I'll stay here to remind you that I care."
Luke pulls back again, smiling at you. He gets a little bit closer though, until his face is mere inches away from yours. He tilts his head at just the right angle to catch the moonlight coming off his blue eyes.
"Think about that." Luke looked into her eyes for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, placing his hand on your head and kissed your forehead.
"Just a reminder."
Luke pulls away and sits up. His hands are resting on his legs now, and he's looking up at the moon.
"What do you think about the sky, you know? The stars. It's quite beautiful. Makes you think about things. Life's so short. Maybe you should do the things you want to do, while you can." Luke chuckles, sitting back down and looking up at the sky. He looks at you for a second, then looks away.
The air is thick with tension. Luke looks at you over his shoulder, with kind of a half smile on his face. His eyes are still that darker colour, but they're softer now. You're not sure why it's so tempting to lay your head on his shoulder.
"The sky is beautiful. You know, most demigods think of it as a symbol of the gods, right? But I've always thought of it as... freedom. I mean, who cares what the gods think?" He said, looking back at you.
"The sky makes me feel free. I'll look at it sometimes when I'm feeling trapped, you know." He glances back at you, expecting an input.
"You think the gods are looking down at us from the sky?"
He laughs a bit, turning back to the sky and looking at it.
"I don't know, maybe? But even so, why should we care if they are or not? I don't get what all the fuss is about the gods, why do so many people at camp obsess over their opinions so much? They're just like any other person, except they have a little more power. They don't really care about us, if they did, then we wouldn't be the ones doing all the important stuff."
“I mean, they say that Jesus is always looking down on us, do you think they meant the sky?”
He laughs again, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
"You're really not going to let me distract you from whatever's bothering you, are you? Even when I'm trying really hard." There's another hint of that darkness in his eyes.
"I don't want to think about it, I just wanna lay down and have a relaxing moment to myself, but I'd rather it not be on this damp ground." He knows how stubborn you are. Instead, he smiled and scooted closer.
He's so close to you now, his body is close to yours and he can feel your breath. He just stares up at the sky.
"Where else?" He looks into your eyes. He's enjoying this. You’re falling for this. He smiles. "The lake sounds pretty lovely to me."
"It's wet here."
The darkness in his eyes is getting stronger. His voice is growing husky again, the way you like it.
He can’t help it, Luke leans closer again. He wants the intimacy between you. There is a subtle change in his eyes. He stares at you, and now his hand is brushing your leg.
His voice is low and rough and seductive. “The lake is fine. I prefer it, even. It’s the perfect place for us.”
A hint of a smirk rises from his lip. He knows how much he affects you. You both know exactly what he’s trying to do, and you both want to do it, but he will not let you think you have any control over this situation, he’s always in control.
He leans towards you again, his hand moving further up your leg.
"Castellan." His name came out of your lips like a warning but you said it softly enough for him.
The smirk slowly rises on his lip, and he whispers.
"What, love?" His hand keeps creeping up your leg, his voice sounding almost like a growl. It's such a change from the charming guy you know, and it's so tempting, yet so unsettling. He stares at you, waiting for a response, waiting to see what you'll do.
You can almost feel the dark energy coming off him. His presence is just so dominating right now, he wants this. He is getting closer and closer until he's practically lying on top of you. He's not looking at you anymore, he's just looking down at his hand which is resting just below your thigh. It is not moving up, but you can feel the tension.
He leans up, his eyes searching yours. You can tell that he wants something more than just a little flirting. He wants to see how far he can take this. Luke's hands are going up even higher, brushing her thighs now. He's so close now, you can feel his breath brushing your neck.
The tension builds more and more. He is so close to just taking you right here. You can feel him starting to move his hands to the sides of your back, to the small of your back. He wants this, and he can't help but try. The darkness in his eyes is getting more potent, as his breathing gets heavier and heavier.
He leans in closer, his mouth less than a few inches away from your neck. You can feel his breath. He's waiting. That anticipation, that temptation, is just so intoxicating and it's making him crazy.
The darkness of his eyes fades away as he finally makes a move. His lips come closer, so close, until they just touch, making a soft clicking sound. His eyes close, and his lips finally meet yours, his lips opening slightly to let the kiss linger longer until he pulls back and leans towards your ear.
It was such a soft kiss, nothing more than his lips barely grazing yours. But the heat between them builds when his eyes reopen. He pulls away just barely speaking.
"Castellan."
Your voice is so low, so quiet, and yet so alluring. Luke’s breathing starts to speed up, and his grin gets wider.
He looks down at her with the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice is low. "Luke." He corrected.
You only called him by his first name, whenever you’re gonna or when you’re doing it. He was certain you’ve been deliberately conditioning him with it.
Luke's movements slow, his body unweights your body.
His eyes are dark. A little bit too dark. He seems less sure of himself now. Still, Luke's hand is sliding up your thigh. Closer to what he wants.
He's so close to you now. He's moving his hand up and down your leg. Slowly. Almost teasingly. His voice is barely a whisper.
He quickly took the initiative by kissing you aggressively. But somehow your hands making their way to the back of his neck and into his hair.
His tongue flicks into your mouth as his hands grip your thighs, he squeezes tighter. Luke’s breath comes out in short little moans.
Luke is on a whole different level now. He's enjoying this more and more. His eyes are closed as he kisses you deeper. His hands move further up your thighs. This is going exactly how he wanted it to. He's got you completely trapped and submissive at this point and he knows it. He opens one eye and looks at you.
"Do you want me?" He asks, his voice dark and smooth. He's holding himself just on the edge. Right where he wants to be. He stares into her deep sapphire eyes, waiting for an answer. It's a dark question, but he wants to hear it from you.
You simply smirk at his question. You knew that he wanted you to say it, your admission is everything to him. But you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction as you pulled him closer and just started kissing him again, slowly, biting down on his lower lip.
He groans and then laughs quietly. You weren’t giving him the words he wanted to hear. That was fine. He was going to make you say it.
He kisses you back, harder, faster. His hands are moving under your shirt, tracing the curves of your back and waist.
Luke leans back, his forehead leaning on you. Your breaths are coming faster and faster. Your lips touch when you kiss. He is in complete control over you right now, and he likes that. "You want me? Say it."
"I'm not giving you that power." Your hands travelled down his shirt and slowly went underneath it, feeling the tone of his abs.
His body is still now, but you can feel his muscles tensing as you move your hands.
It's like you're pressing switches that turn a machine on. A low groan escapes his mouth, as his breath quickens again. His eyes close tight as he tries to resist the urge.
His breath hitches in his throat, but you probably doesn't notice that for a moment. His eyes snap open when he can't fight it and he stares at you, waiting for you to admit it.
He's the only person at camp who actually has this level of control. He pushes you back down, his hands going down to your waist now. His breath is almost like a growl at this point. It's pure pleasure to hear that he still has complete control over uou. His voice is soft in your ear now. "Please."
You chuckled and moved down to his neck to kiss it.
Luke tenses again. His neck is his weakness.
He always liked to be in control, and his neck feels like it gives him away. He likes that you found this. "Please." His voice is low but pleading. They both know that he is very much begging you to say it now as his neck is being kissed aggressively.
Luke gasps as you continue trailing kisses down his neck. He tenses again. His breath is heavy in his throat.
The sound alone is like music to your ears. His hands are still at your waist, squeezing a little harder. He likes the feeling of you pulling at his shirt, but he tries to still keep himself on. "Please." His voice had the sound of urgency, almost begging now as his eyes dart to yours.
"I like it when you beg."
That wasn’t exactly what he wanted you to say but his body responds to your voice. His breath catches in his throat again and he arches back against your body. His eyes roll back and another low groan escapes his lips. One of his hands moves up to your neck as he pins you down against him, and starts dragging his hand down your back.
"You'll have to earn that," you purred, licking a trail along his neck that made his gut twist taut.
Luke's body moves away from you. His breath comes out in short but heavy breaths, he arches his back and lets out a deep grunt of pleasure. "I can earn it." He pushes you back down now.
He is taking control again. He kisses your neck passionately, his lips against your neck, his breath almost like a growling moan against your skin. He is moving slowly around your neck now as if he's exploring.
He positioned himself between your thighs. One hand supported your back, while the other fumbled to unclasp his belt.
It was difficult to recall how he'd ever got aroused before you came along. The way you both demanded and begged all at once sent his brain spinning.
Luke's hand is fumbling with his belt, it's not coming undone though. Like him, he's lost control. He's lost control over you, over himself, he never loses control. Maybe that is why he's enjoying this so much. Your presence and your kisses have turned him completely into someone else, someone whose only thoughts are pleasure. He leans forward again, kissing your neck passionately yet again. His breath is coming fast but heavy now. He's completely and utterly obsessed with the feeling.
You smirk before your hand slowly starts to help him undo his belt as well as unbutton his pants.
His head arches back slightly and he lets out a low groan again. "Yes..." He whispers softly. His breath is heavy in his throat. He takes a look down and is startled to see she is helping him undo his belt. Now he is almost completely submissive to you. You’re the one in charge now, completely at your whim. All he wants is you.
"Say please," you whispered, nipping his lower lip as he pulled your pants hastily down to your ankles, impatient as he is, he moved your soaked underwear to the side. “I like it when you ask nicely."
Luke is almost embarrassed. He has never been this submissive before. He always thought he’d be in complete control at all times. But you had to take control away from him and he doesn’t even mind. “Please…” His voice is soft, begging for you now. He looks down at you now, wanting you to reply. He wants to give up all control to you. All he wants now is your eternal pleasure.
You simpered before kissing him, your tongue eagerly seeking his.
You swallowed his moan as he hurried to himself free from the restraints of his boxers. He couldn’t wait anymore, he pushed himself into you. Tight, hot, and quivering as he gave you everything he had. He loosely wrapped his fingers around your throat, and you whined against his mouth, my head tilting back as my eyes fluttered shut. He tightened his grip, your own hands scrambling at his waist to encourage him deeper.
This is more pleasure than he has ever felt. The feeling of being completely submissive is a thrill that he had never felt before. He loves being at the complete mercy of someone else. Luke pulls you closer to him, arching his back again and letting out low grunts into your mouth. He holds your neck and he pulls back, looking down at you. His breath is heavy in your ear, his eyes closed tight. “You have… complete control.”
He was completely lost now. All he could hear was her begging now. All of his focus was on you now, he was consumed by you. Your hands around his waist, his mouth kissing yours passionately, your bodies moving in perfect sync with each other. His breathing grew heavier as the pace grew faster. His hand tightened on your throat, as if by instinct, but still gentle.
Luke’s breathing was heavy, his body tense and quivering. His breath was all he could hear now. Every time he moved forward, you moved her body and his would follow, and vice versa. You both lost yourselves more and more in a world where nothing mattered but you and the feeling you could give him. His breath caught in his throat, it came out in moans of pleasure. His hand was tight around your neck, but you could feel the soft grip of it.
You close your eyes in the pleasure of everything.
Everything around you felt a little fuzzy even your vision as you threw your head back while still trying to keep your hands on his waist, but you didn’t think you could hold on much longer as you gripped on his way, slowly started to falter.
The pace was getting faster now. His breath was coming faster and heavier now. “Hey, stay with me…” He whispered. It was so close. He was so close.
His body shakes uncontrollably. Every nerve in his body was tingling with pleasure. His grip on your neck tightened slightly as you moved faster and faster. His breath was coming out in short little exhales. His eyes are closed tight, his whole body quivering. All he can hear is your breath and soft moans, which are getting louder now.
He is so close, but he doesn’t want to finish right now. He wants to drag it out for you. He wants you to experience more of this. His grip tightens again, but still gently. His breathing is coming out in short little gasps now. Every fibre of Luke’s being was consumed with you and this pleasure.
You keep going, your bodies moving together, the pace has reached its peak now. His breath is short and loud now, his grip is tighter on you but not harsh.
He pulled you closer by your waist with one arm, maintaining his grip on your neck with the other, aligning me to accommodate all of him. With each thrust, I bit down on the flesh of his shoulder as his whole body tensed and his breath caught in his throat. His body shudders, and his entire body shakes with the pleasure. His hand is now tight around your neck, as he hits the peak of pleasure now. His breathing comes out in the slightest groan of satisfaction as your bodies combine together in one last movement.
Luke is shaking by this point. His breathing is deep now and his whole body is a quivering mess. Your touch is the most intense feeling he’s ever had. The pace was steady now and the feeling had only gotten more intense. The feeling of your hands around his waist, as you move with him. Your eyes looking into him. His body is twitching and tense, his breath is sharp and loud now. He can almost feel what you’re feeling as you move together.
“Luke, I’m—“
“Don’t stop.” He whispered in your ear. He was so close. His whole body was tense and she could feel the vibrations of his breath. Your touch was all he was thinking about now. He was in complete control for the first time in a long time. He was in complete control of your pleasure. Your breathing became louder, and he knew you were close to your climax too. You could feel the vibrations of his breath as you got closer and closer.
Luke’s body is shaking uncontrollably now. The grip around your neck is the tightest it’s been all night, but still gentle. His breath is coming out in loud sharp gasps now, his body twitching like crazy. Your body is twitching with his, the both of you moving at your own pace.
His grip is tightening even more as he feels the buildup of energy in her body. His breathing is like a growl now. He has completely lost control again, you were the one in control. You were the one making the pace. Now he just wants to hear you finally call out to him, call out to him that you’re almost there. Your body is the only one he feels now. You, your breathing, your motions. You are all he feels. He wants you to let go of it all, he wants you to call to him. He could feel you getting closer and closer.
“I swear to the Gods, Luke. I’m gonna—“ You finally mumbled his name again, but it came out breathless as you tried to hold onto him. You were practically clinging onto him for dear life. He could feel you clenching inside around him. Which almost made him lose control, he would’ve given up at that very moment if it wasn’t for your voice grounding him.
Your voice is like music to his ears. It’s all he wanted to hear. He was holding on to you tightly as the both of you were so close to the end. You calling out to him sends waves through his body, but he is losing even more control of himself. Your calling out to him only sends him further into the pleasure. His grip around your neck tightens even more, as he pulls you closer, his forehead coming to rest on yours.
Both of you are extremely close and are moving together at the same pace. He can feel your breath coming out in short, sharp gasps. You both move together like there is only one body moving. You both have reached your peak now and are moving like machines now. The pace is too much, you calling out to him is too much.
Your breathing is his breath. Your heartbeat is his heartbeat. The pace has built to its peak and it’s pushing you both to the end. Luke is so close to the end now, he is feeling what you’re feeling. You both finally are at the absolute peak of pleasure. You both reach their finale simultaneously. Your bodies shake uncontrollably and his grip is the tightest it has been all night as he lets everything out at once.
He came inside of you, his groaning was the only warning as you felt him shoot up his release.
He nuzzled right up against you, wrapping his arm around your waist. He was still slowly thrusting inside, just warm white liquid started spilling out of you.
Both of their breathing settles down and their bodies relax. Luke is out of his trance now, his breathing is coming out heavy but no longer is it an animalistic growl. He’s calm now, but satisfied. The whole night had been a thrill for him. It was exactly what he wanted: someone to take complete control of him, which he didn’t even know he wanted. His grip around your neck loosens and he pulls away from you.
Luke finally finds himself again. He is looking right into her eyes and his voice is low but soft. He is looking right into her eyes and he gives a small grin. “It’s okay, I got you.” He mumbles, nuzzling his head right into her neck. “Don’t worry.”
He kisses your neck softly again, but his breathing is normal now. He isn’t losing control anymore. He was now just content with your presence. He snuggles closer to you, his voice is soft and the glow of his eyes is different than before. He is relaxed, calm, and content.
“Are you alright?” Luke thought he might’ve been too hard with the choking earlier, but based on your expression, he didn’t really have anything much to worry about.
Luke was content. His body movements were slow and smooth now. He had complete control of himself now. The pace of his thrusts had slowed down but he was still inside of you. His breath was still heavy, but not because it was intense pleasure anymore. It’s just because it was comfortable. The glow in his eyes was not the same as before, his eyes were full of content and pleasure. Instead of intense pleasure, it was more like satisfaction now. His hand was still tight around your waist, and he brought his other hand up to your hand, squeezing it softly.
Luke’s breaths were coming out in slow grunts and he was keeping a pace with no intensity to it whatsoever. It felt more like he was moving in slow motion. The two of you were finally just moving together now as if you were one single person. Neither of you were looking at anything else. Nothing else mattered in this moment but this pleasure you finally felt with each other.
“I’m okay.”
It was as if his body was just flowing smoothly with you. His hand is still tight at your waist and your hand is still holding him tightly. The feeling was a complete mix of pure bliss and complete pleasure. The two of you were enjoying each other’s touch so much that nothing else mattered at all. You were just locked together, moving in an endless rhythm now.
You were still letting out heavy breaths in mere seconds, one after the other. “This is disgusting.” You motioned to the wet damp ground that you both were lying on.
He laughs at you. You both were pretty disgusting. But it’s also somewhat funny that he didn’t care, your whole bodies are soaked and sticky. Luke’s laughs are soft and low now. He lifts up one of his hands to wipe the sweat off of his brow. He looks over at the ground and laughs again as he looks back at you. He lowered himself as he planted a kiss on your forehead, his hands slowly grazing upon your cheek.
“Look at us.” He laughs silently, keeping his voice low. He chuckles a little bit, the two of you are such a mess right now.
Luke laughs a little bit more, it’s funny to him how much of a mess they both are. The ground is totally soaked and sticky as is your body and his. You both are completely covered in your own bodily fluids. It’s quite the scene to take in all at once.
Luke’s laughter dies down slightly, though it’s still somewhat there as he just chuckles at the whole situation. He looks over at you and smiles a small and soft smile at you. He shakes his head slightly, just still finding it funny. The whole scene is just utterly ridiculous and disgusting.
“You think they’ll notice us missing and coming back all sweaty and disgusting?”
He laughs again slightly and his body shakes in amusement. The thought of them both coming back to camp in this state is a funny thought to him. The two of you are covered in your own sweat and fluids, it’s not exactly a pretty sight of the two of you. So much so, that people will notice at first glance.
“Let’s wash up a little by the lake.”
He nods his head. He doesn’t even really feel that sore right now. You really were covered in so much sweat and fluids. The thought of even being around other people makes him feel awkward. Your suggestion is good though, a good old rinse-off is just what you both need right now. He pulls you off of him and sat up.
“Pull up your pants, Castellan,” I commented, looking down at him as I sat up straight, brushing off the debris on my clothes.
He is still lying at your feet. He shakes his head and he nods you off of him. He stands up slowly and he laughs at your comment. His pants actually fell down further and they are hanging around his ankles. He pulls them up and zips them up.
You were being direct, and it cracked him up a little. He is completely covered in yours and now his own juices.
“I feel sticky.”
“You think you feel sticky?” He laughs again and shakes his head. He grabs your hand and he pulls you up off of the floor and holds you close to him. He takes a quick glance around at the surroundings before looking right back at you.
“Let’s find a place where we can wash off.” He says with a smirk on his face. His body is a hot mess and he can feel every bit of it. He didn’t even believe they could get this dirty, but they did. So you need to get cleaned up now, especially before any of the other campers notice the two of you. That would be absolutely horrific.
“Nobody can find out.”
He chuckles again and he nods his head. You were absolutely right about that. Nobody can find out about this, it would be so embarrassing. You both would go down in history as a complete disgrace if anyone found out.
“God, we’re so nasty.” He muttered, leading the way towards the lake.
#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan smut#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x you#luke castellan#luke castellan pjo#pjo#pjo series#percy jackson#pjo fandom#percy jackon and the olympians#charlie bushnell#charlie bushnell x reader#i’m ovulating#i want this man all over me fr#smut#imagine#pjo disney+#pjo tv show
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ruin|k.tsukishima
CW: DEGRADING, SQUIRTING, OVERSTIMULATION, CHOKING, FINGERING, HAIR PULLING
third year kei who’s become so much more confident in himself, especially now that he has a girlfriend.
now that he has you.
but that confidence in himself, leads to cockiness in the bedroom.
god he’s so cocky, degrading you for taking him like such a slut, and praising himself for how good he is making you cum this much.
“sucha messy little bitch, hm? my cock too big for you, my little slut?”
he’s got his large hand squeezing your throat, his slender fingers digging into your skin as he pushes your back against chest, cock torturing your cervix.
he knows just how to bend you so you’ll make a mess everywhere, he knows just where your limit is, and precisely where to hit the curve of his cock that gets you to squirt.
he loves pulling out and pushing you down into his pillow, ass up so he could watch the mess drool from your sensitive cunt.
you’d forgotten how long you were going at it, but you definitely came more than once.
he slid his long finger across your soaked cunt, pulling you apart to watch all the white paint your walls, thinking you looked so fucking beautiful devouring his mess too. 
but he wouldn’t tell you that.
“looks like you have enough room for more, that right, brat?”
he shoved two lengthy digits inside of you, fucking the mess deeper into your cunt.
“lets make some room then, no?”
he pistoned and curled and fingers into your needy cunt.
still so surprisingly needy after he thought he had already fucked you out.
he pulled out, lifting himself up and wasting no time before shoving his full length again, feeling your walls suck him more than ever.
he let out a hiss while he grabbed a fistful of your hair, now fucking you at an unforgivable pace as he watched your ass ripple on impact of his pelvis.
you screamed and begged, you squirmed and gripped at the sheets, you trembled and drooled, and he fucking loved that.
his favorite thing was seeing how much you could really take.
seeing how you came undone, how messy you really got.
he loved continuing to fuck you after you’d both cum, fucking it farther into you, feeling just how full you were with his mess and yours coating his sickening length.
you felt so tight, so warm, he could just keep fucking you and fucking you.
you were so soft and he loved ruining that.
once he felt you clench around him again, he knew this was it.
he had already fucked so much out of you, he knew what happened if he continued after you’d already cum.
so he flipped you over, so fast you could barely comprehend, you now on your back as he rut into you.
his intimidating golden eyes locked with yours, brimming with tears, as he overstimulated your cunt.
his large hand reached down to pinch and circle your clit, while he angled his hips just perfectly to curve against that spot inside your cunt that made you scream.
that made you tremble, and scratch at his arm.
that made you-
he pulled out just in time, watching all that creamy white drip from your cunt, and feeling you squirt all over his stomach.
he loved how he now matched the glistening of your pretty pussy, with such a mess you’ve made.
he was so proud of how perfectly he could time it, he knew you so well and has done it more than enough times already.
he shoved his fingers back in, curling them against the roof of your cunt, you clenching so hard around him again as he forced you to squirt until you couldn’t, such a mess pouring and pruning his big hand.
he stopped, feeling you’d finally had enough, maybe.
your body trembled so violently, your face was incredibly red, eyes and cheeks stained with tears, you’d forgotten to take off your mascara as it ran with it.
your legs clenched together now, and your lips quivered.
full of lust, this sight drove him crazy, you looking so miserable, scared, braindead and fucked out like this.
full of love, he decided it was time to stop, give aftercare, and drop this act to show how much he really did love you.
#writers on tumblr#smut writing#wattpad#writer stuff#smut writer#fanfic writer#fanfiction writer#haikyuu!!#haikyuu tsukki#tsukki x reader#hq tsukki#tsukishima x you#tsukishima x y/n#tsukishima x reader#haikyuu tsukishima#tsukkishima kei#tsukishima kei#tsukishima smut#kei tsukishima#haikyu smut#haikyu x reader#haikyuu#haikyu#haikyuu time skip#hq smut#hq
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𝑺𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒌
Summary : When your car broke down in the middle of 1950s Texas, you welcome with pleasure the help of a handsome cowboy.
Word count : 2.4k
Content: mdni, 1950s AU, Cowboy! Anakin, Ditzy!, Wealthy! Reader, surnames (doll, peach, dollie,), kissing, vaginal fingering, brief pussy-eating, PiV, breeding kink, wife kink, mentions of grooming, pregnancy kink ?
AN : Okay so I got that AU in my head since FOREVER. That damn picture of Hayden with the Stetson got me ruining so many panties. Here’s a tribute to all the Cowboy delulu wifeys. Hope you’ll enjoy !!!
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the vast Texas plains. The air was thick with the scent of wild grass and the distant hum of cicadas. You, a city girl from New York, had never seen anything like it. The endless stretch of land, so different from the concrete jungle you were used to, was both beautiful and intimidating.
You had been on your way to visit a distant relative’s ranch, a place you’d never been before, when your car—an elegant, shiny Cadillac that was far too fancy for these dusty roads—had sputtered and died in the middle of nowhere. Now, here you were, miles from the nearest town, with no idea what to do.
Your pretty summer dress, all ruffles and soft pastels, was completely out of place here, with the silk scarf wrapped around your head to protect your hair from the burning sun. Your designer heels were sinking into the dirt with every step you took around the car, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. You were lost, both literally and figuratively, your usual confidence shaken by the vastness of this wild, untamed place.
As you leaned against the car, biting your lip in frustration, the sound of hooves reached your ears. You looked up, shielding your eyes from the sun, and saw a figure on horseback approaching from the distance.
As the rider drew closer, you could make out more details—tall, broad-shouldered, with a wide-brimmed Stetson casting a shadow over his face. His horse was a magnificent creature, all muscle and grace, moving with the kind of power that took your breath away.
When he finally stopped a few feet away from you, you got your first real look at him. The man was strikingly handsome, with sandy blonde hair that curled under his hat and deep blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He was dressed in a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, tanned forearms, and worn jeans that clung to his legs in a way that made your heart race.
“Well, now, what’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ all the way out here ?” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, with just the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
You blinked up at him, momentarily lost for words. He was so different from the men you were used to—polished, city types in sharp suits and shiny shoes. This man was raw and rugged, with a presence that seemed to command the very air around him.
“My car…” you started, feeling a little foolish under his steady gaze. “It just… stopped. I don’t know what to do.”
He dismounted with an easy grace, the muscles in his arms flexing as he swung down from the saddle. As he approached, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, mixing with the warmth of the sun. He looked over the car, his expression thoughtful, before turning back to you.
“Well, I ain’t no mechanic, but I can take a look, dollie,” he offered, his tone kind but with an undercurrent of amusement, as if he found your predicament both endearing and a little amusing.
“Thank you,” you murmured, stepping aside to let him take a look under the hood. As he worked, you couldn’t help but watch him, the way his fingers deftly moved over the engine, the way his shirt clung to the muscles of his back as he leaned over.
After a few minutes, he straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag he’d pulled from his back pocket. “Looks like you’ve got a busted radiator, peach. You won’t be goin’ anywhere until it’s fixed.”
Your heart sank at his words. “Oh no, what am I going to do ?”
He glanced up at the sky, which was beginning to turn shades of pink and orange as the sun dipped lower. “It’s gettin’ late. Best thing would be to come back to my place. It ain’t too far, and you can stay the night. I’ll take a look at your car in the morning, doll, see what can be done.”
You hesitated for a moment, the idea of staying with a stranger making you nervous, but there was something about him—something solid and trustworthy—that made you nod in agreement. “Alright, thank you, cowboy. I really appreciate it.”
He gave you a nod and helped you up onto his horse, his hands firm and steady as they gripped your waist. You settled into the saddle, feeling a bit awkward, but his presence behind you was reassuring.
As you rode through the fields, the wind gently tugging at your hair, you couldn’t help but lean back against him, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. His arm was wrapped around you, holding the reins, and you could feel the strength in him, the quiet confidence that seemed to radiate from every part of him.
Suddenly your silk scarf escaped from your head and you gasped. A strong hand latched backwards and caught the fabric. The cowboy winked at you and pocketed your scarf not without smelling it beforehand, leaving you speechless.
When you finally arrived at his ranch, the sky was a deep indigo, the stars just beginning to twinkle above. The house was a charming, rustic place, with a wide porch and warm, inviting lights glowing from the windows.
He helped you down from the horse, his hands lingering on your waist for just a moment longer than necessary, sending a thrill through you. As you stepped inside, you were greeted by the cozy warmth of the living room, the scent of wood and leather filling the air.
“You can make yourself at home,” he said, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “I’ll get you somethin’ to drink.”
You nodded, wandering over to the fireplace, your fingers lightly brushing over the mantel as you took in the room. When he returned, he handed you a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the firelight.
As you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol spread through you, mixing with the heat that had been steadily building inside you since the moment he’d appeared on that dusty road. You coughed your lungs out at the burn.
“I never did catch your name,” you said, looking up at him over the rim of your glass.
“Name’s Anakin,” he replied, his eyes locked onto yours. “Anakin Skywalker.”
You smiled, the name fitting him perfectly. “Thank you again, Anakin. For helping me.”
He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s my pleasure, darlin’. Can’t leave a lady in distress.”
There was a charged silence between you, the air thick with something unspoken. You could feel the tension building, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest.
Before you knew it, he was right in front of you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. His touch was warm, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your breath catch.
“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.
You could only nod, your voice failing you as you lost yourself in the intensity of his gaze.
And then he was kissing you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before—raw, passionate, and filled with a desire that made your head spin.
You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against him as the kiss deepened.
His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel the hard lines of his body against yours, the heat of his skin seeping through his shirt, igniting a fire in you that you hadn’t even realized was there.
You gasped as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your knees weak, his stubble scratching deliciously against your throat. His hands were everywhere, sliding down your back, over your hips, exploring every inch of you with a hunger that matched your own.
“Anakin…” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning you there with a strength that made your pulse race.
“Shh,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low growl. “I’ve gotcha’, darlin’. Jus’ let me take care of ya’.”
And take care of you he did. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, where he laid you down on the soft, inviting bed. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting everything in a warm, golden light.
He stood above you for a moment, his eyes dark and intense as he took in the sight of you, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. And then he was on you, his hands and lips exploring every inch of your body, igniting a fire in you that burned hotter with every touch, every kiss.
Anakin's kisses trailed down your neck, his hands sliding over your dress, finding the zipper at the back. With a smooth motion, he pulled it down, the fabric slipping off your shoulders, exposing the delicate lace of your lingerie. His breath hitched at the sight, his eyes darkening with desire.
"Pretty, lil’ angel," he whispered, his voice husky as his fingers traced the outline of your bra, making your skin tingle. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing hot kisses along your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts, until you were arching into him, desperate for more.
You tugged at his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons in your eagerness to feel his skin against yours. He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, before he helped you, shrugging out of the shirt and tossing it aside.
The sight of him, all hard muscles and golden skin, took your breath away. His chest was broad, his abs defined, and you couldn’t resist running your hands over his torso, feeling the heat and power of him beneath your fingertips.
He groaned at your touch, his hands slipping under your bra, pushing it up to free your breasts. His mouth was on you in an instant, his tongue teasing your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you that had you gasping his name.
His hands were everywhere, sliding down your sides, over your hips, pushing your dress the rest of the way off until you were lying there in nothing but your panties. He paused for a moment, just looking at you, his eyes roaming over your body with a hunger that made your skin flush with heat.
Then he was kissing you again, his mouth claiming yours in a kiss that was all-consuming, his hands sliding down to your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you, the evidence of his desire making you ache with need.
"Anakin," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation as he kissed his way down your body, his hands hooking into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with a slow, deliberate motion that left you trembling with anticipation.
He kissed the inside of your thighs, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin, making you shiver. And then his mouth was on you, his tongue stroking over your most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you that made you cry out, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.
He didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working together to drive you higher and higher, until you were teetering on the edge, your body strung tight with need. And then he was inside you, filling you completely, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you moaning his name, your nails digging into his back. « Gonna make you a mommy, » he grunted, biting your throat. His hands gripped your waist tightly probably letting bruises. He swallowed the sweet skin of your cleavage in his mouth, suckling hickeys and pressing hot, tongue kisses on your chair. « My sweet little wife, gonna drag you on the aisle, » he pounded harder in you, his large cock reducing you at a doll-like state, your cock drunk face driving his crazy. « You’ll gimme babies, huh ? As much babies as I want. Gonna keep you round and full of me. Mine. My wife, the mother of my children. » his thrusts got sloppy and his face contorted in a mask of need.
The pleasure built and built, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, sending you spiraling into an orgasm so intense it left you shaking, your body clinging to his as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. You screamed your release, arching your back and curling your toes.
Anakin followed you over the edge, his own release spilling deep into you as he groaned your name, his body tensing above you before he collapsed, pulling you into his arms as you both lay there, breathing hard, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath.
The night was a blur of passion and desire, a heady mix of pleasure and sensation that left you breathless and yearning for more. Anakin moved with a confidence that only came from someone who knew exactly what he wanted, and he made sure you knew it too. He took his time with you, savoring every moment, every gasp and moan that fell from your lips. He pushed you to the edge again and again, his touch driving you wild, until you finally tumbled over, your body arching into his as you were consumed by the pleasure that only he could give you. You couldn’t count how much time he made you cum and came himself but you sure knew your belly wasn’t this bloated when you started.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the sheets as you settled into the warmth of each other’s embrace. Then he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he murmured, "I knew you were somethin’ special, doll."
You smiled, a lazy, satisfied smile as you snuggled closer to him, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "I guess I’ll have to find more reasons to get stranded in Texas," you teased, your voice soft and content, the Stetson since forgotten on the floor.
The End…
#hayden christensen#anakin skywalker#james kelly#sam monroe#scott barringer#anakin smut#anakin x reader#evie writes#cowboy#fuck…
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chris/matt’s reaction to reader calling them pretty boy or just really soft pet names in general 🤍
chris:
I totally think Chris, even though he feels flustered, he would try to make it about you, trying to turn the attention to you, his chest would be SO warm, and he would feel so happy 😭😭
- A SMALL BLURB BC I CAN -
Chris leaned against the doorframe of their shared room, watching Y/N fiddle with a new piece of jewelry she’d bought. She sat cross-legged on the bed, the cozy warm light from the bedside table showering her body, making her look angelic. Her focus on the delicate bracelet was intense, her brows furrowed in concentration.
Chris couldn’t help but smile. As if sensing his gaze, Y/N looked up, her face breaking into a bright, infectious smile.
"There you are!" She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up even more. She patted the spot next to her on the bed. "Come here, pretty boy."
Chris’s heart skipped a beat. He walked over, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Pretty boy, huh?" That was new, and he couldn't lie and say he didn't like it.
Y/N giggled, a sound that always made his heart flutter. She nodded enthusiastically, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.
"Yes, you’re my pretty boy."
Chris sat down next to her, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He loved how her words could make him feel so special.
"Well, if I’m your pretty boy, what does that make you?" He asked, leaning in closer, his warm breath hitting her cheeks.
Y/N’s blush deepened, and she looked down at her bracelet, trying to hide her giddiness.
"I guess that makes me a lucky girl." She murmured.
Chris chuckled softly, lifting her chin with a gentle finger.
"The luckiest." He agreed, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. Her skin was warm under his lips, and he could feel her smile against him. "My lucky girl."
matt:
Matt is just a softie, he would get SO lost and flustered, blushing like crazy and stuttering 😭😭😭😭
- HERE WE GO -
Y/N lounged on the couch, the warm glow of the afternoon sun casting a golden hue across the room. She was nestled in her favorite corner, a book in hand, when she heard the familiar sound of Matt's footsteps coming from the small hall that led to their shared room. He entered the living room, his hair slightly tousled from a nap, and his eyes still heavy with sleep.
"Hey, sleepyhead." Y/N greeted him with a smile, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Did you have a good nap?"
Matt rubbed his eyes and stretched, a soft yawn escaping his lips.
"Yeah, I did. I needed that. Recording all night wasn't a good idea... How's your book?"
"It's amazing, but you know what's even better?" Y/N's smile grew wider as she set her book aside, giving Matt her full attention. "Seeing my pretty boy all relaxed and well rested."
Matt froze, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. He wasn't used to such compliments, even though Y/N always seemed to catch him by surpise, as if she knew exactly how to make his heart race every time.
"P-Pretty boy?" He stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, his blue eyes turning wide open, shining below the daylight that came from the big window.
"Yes, pretty boy." Y/N repeated, leaving her book aside and standing up, walking over to him. She reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, aligning his messy curls. "You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted person I know, yeah?"
Matt's eyes widened, his blush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat louder than the last. He was such a sucker for praises, and Y/N knew that very well.
"Y/N, you can't just say things like that." He mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Why not? It's true." She replied, her smile widening as she lowered her hand from his hair to his face, caressing his jaw.
Matt's heart raced as he felt her touch. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so flustered. He bit his lip, trying to suppress a grin but failing miserably.
"I-I... uh... th-thank you." He managed to say, his voice trembling.
Y/N chuckled softly, loving how flustered he became. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.
"You're adorable when you're shy." She teased, her lips brushing against his skin.
#⋆౨ৎ˚ 𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#blurb
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No bc I need finnick to lovingly scold me over not eating all day and make me food and just be so protectively doting. you slayed with those casual dominance headcanons
thank you gorgeous! I hope u don’t mind, I’m using your ask to post a full blurb based on the hc’s :) I already had it written when you sent this in, and it’s kind of the perfect ask for it so!! thank u <3 here’s the original drabble if anyone wants it
finnick odair x fem!reader / finnick loves you and is bossy
You’re tangled up like a pretzel on the sofa when Finnick finally gets home. He’s been out swimming all morning and you’ve been (rightfully, in your opinion) quite miserable. It’s not your fault you like him so much — he’s lovely and handsome and perfect, and a handful of hours without him has left you a bit of a mess.
He appears in the doorway, the salty breeze following him in. He looks wildly handsome, his golden hair all windswept, his eyes searching for you.
You leap up. “Finnick!”
You swoop on him and he catches you easily, laughing softly as his strong arms wrap around your upper back. He smells like the ocean, salty and crisp, fresh. He hugs you so tight your feet leave the ground.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says into your hair. You hear the smile in his voice, it’s not hard to miss, and you decide you want to see it, so you pull back. Like you thought, he’s smiling a dazzling smile that combats the sun in its brightness. He’s so happy to see you, and it makes you feel electric.
“Hello,” you say back, your voice sticky with love. You push his pretty hair back from his face, card you fingers through a rogue curl and tuck it behind his ear. His hair’s still thick with salt — hopefully he’ll let you wash it for him tonight. “I missed you.”
Finnick’s grin grows impossible wider. “Mm, I can tell.” He takes his face in your hands, thumbs dragging across your cheekbones. “I missed you, too, pretty girl. What’d you do while I was gone all day, hm?”
You hum something incoherent. You’ve barely heard his question, too caught up in his soft touching, his gentle voice and his lovely names. Your eyelids flutter under his affections. He touches you like you’re something beautiful made of marble, like you’re not just a girl. He certainly doesn’t make you feel like just a girl.
Finnick laughs at your obvious pleasure, your inability to answer his question. “Sounds interesting,” he teases. He gets his hand under your chin and tilts you up gently to look at him properly. “Did you eat already, sweet thing?”
You think about it and realise you honestly can’t remember if you even ate at all today. You shy, because you know what Finnick’s reaction will be. “Um. No?”
Finnick raises his eyebrows. “No? Did you eat at all?”
Barely. You were too busy missing him to think about something so unimportant as food. Has it even been lunchtime yet? “I had half an apple for breakfast,” you admit.
Finnick sighs. His arms drops to your waist, warm and heavy. “It’s half four, honey,” he says. Way past lunch time, then. “You know that’s not good enough.”
He’s only telling you off because he cares, but you still feel awful when he looks at you like that. “Sorry,” you say quietly.
“Hey, don’t be. It’s okay.” He chucks you under the chin and smiles at you. “Sit down, I’ll make you something, okay?”
Finnick starts to move away. You follow, eager to be near him. “I’ll help.”
He looks at you, raising a quizzical brow. “No, you won’t.”
“But—“
“Sweetheart.” He puts a firm hand on your shoulder, pressing down lightly. “I said no. I’ve got it.”
There’s a sort of sternness to his tone that makes your stomach churn. You imagine arguing back would only result in more of it, and though you actually do quite like when he tells you what to do, you don’t want to irritate him. Still, you pout at him dramatically before stalking off to the sofa again.
You hear Finnick chuckling at your dramatics as he disappears into the kitchen. You resume your position of miserable pretzel, curled up and sulking while you listen to the sounds of pots and pans, the tap running, the stove being switched on. It takes less than ten minutes before you get bored and wander into the kitchen. Finnick’s at the sink washing carrots, his back to you, with all the ingredients for your favourite soup laid out on the counter.
You try to be as inconspicuous as possible as you pull out a chopping board and a knife. You only get so far as to have them both in your hands before Finnick’s on you like a hawk.
“Y/N,” he says, sounding exasperated but unsurprised. He comes up behind you to take the knife from your hand, sets it on the bench and then turns you around by the shoulders. He pushes you back towards the living room. “Do you ever listen?”
Even though he’s technically scolding you, you can hear the amusement in his question. He’s not mad. You might even say he’s having fun.
“Finnick,” you whine, struggling to stay put with his manhandling. You dig your heels into the floor, though you know it won’t work because he’s really strong when he wants to be. “Can I at least sit with you? It’s lonely without you.”
Finnick stops in his efforts to steer you out of the kitchen. There’s a pause, and then he sighs, and you know you’ve won.
“Alright, yes,” he says, in a tone that suggests admitting defeat. “Fine, you can sit with me.”
You spin around in his arms, pleased.
“But you’re not allowed to lift a finger,” he says, hands on your shoulders keeping you firmly in place. “I’ll do the cooking. You just sit and look pretty for me, okay?”
You beam. At least it’s something. And at least you get to sit with him, if anything. “Okay.”
Finnick looks at you with something akin to amused affection for a handful of seconds, and then shakes his head, smiling. “You always get your way, don’t you?” He asks softly, almost as if he’s talking to himself. His warm hand strokes a path down your neck and over the slope of your shoulder.
You want to tell him that it’s not your fault he’s always giving you what you want. You don’t think that kind of attitude would bode well for you being allowed in the kitchen.
#★ mal writes!#finnick odair#finnick odair blurb#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair imagines#finnick odair blurbs#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fic#finnick odair drabbles#finnick odair drabble#finnick odair headcanons#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair fanfiction#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x y/n#finnick odair x fem!reader#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair x reader fluff#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair oneshots#finnick odair x female reader#thg finnick#thg finnick x reader#thg finnick x you#thg finnick x y/n#thg finnick x fem!reader#thg#thg series#thg x reader#thg x you
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Welcome Home (Drabble)
Summary: Azriel just resting between your thighs 😎
Warnings: A bit filthy, Soft!Azriel, Oral (F! Receiving), No plot just smut, shadow daddy a little pussy drunk, unedited
** Minors don't interact under the cut **
"I missed you so much, baby," Azriel purred against your lips, the exhaustion from his week-long mission etched on his face. His kisses were gentle, each a soothing balm to the days spent apart, and his hands settled firmly on your waist, tugging you closer as he led you to the bedroom. You tried not to smile between kisses, knowing that his long missions often left him in a tender, soft mood.
All he wanted was to love you, his pretty little mate, who was conveniently wearing a dress he could easily pull the hem up as he laid you gently on the bed. His touch was needy and hungry as he slipped your dress up to your waist, a hitch in his breath as he spread your legs.
"No panties? Baby, you're too good f'me," he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he settled between your thighs. He pressed soft kisses along your inner thigh, each one sending shivers through you. "So beautiful," he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your skin, each word a tender caress that quickened your pulse.
Azriel was obsessed with your pretty cunt, the way it was already glistening for him as he brought his soft lips to your clit. Earning a soft moan on your lips as he gently kissed your soft folds. His big strong scarred hands spread your legs wider as they harshly gripped your thighs, ensuring he was holding back from devouring you. Azriel could taste your arousal, that sweet nectar from the gods that he thrived on, that he would look forward to on these missions.
"Azriel" You whimpered, your voice weak with desire as he was gently just kissing around your heat. As if hearing your pleas, Azriel's tongue was diving eagerly into your warmth. Your breath hitched at his every touch. You tried squirming or lifting your hips, but Azriel still held his meal, his blessing from the cauldron.
You looked down to see his pretty golden eyes half-lidded. Those gorgeous long eyelashes fluttering shut, and his moans that were filled with a mixture of adoration and desire that made your heart race.
"Ah…Azriel…baby…right there," you babbled, the words spilling from your lips in a breathless rush. But he didn't hear you; he was too drunk on your sweet nectar, devouring you like a man starved. His focus was entirely on you, each flick of his tongue and press of his lips sending waves of pleasure through your body, making you arch and gasp beneath him.
Azriel didn't seem to care by the way your body bucked and shuddered, by the deep and raspy noises that escaped your throat. His fingers soon joined his tongue, spreading you open wider, searching for that one spot that would make you jump and quiver.
Azriel would alternate between sweet slow kitten licks around your clit, piling on the pressure that would have you gasping for air. The build-up was agony, the promise of reaching your high just out of reach. From those sweet kind licks, he would move on to something more relentless. Leaving you arched wildly, thrusting your hips into his face, your back arching off the bed as the climax was fast approaching.
Azriel's lips smacked as he lapped hungrily at your juice. Every touch, every curl of his fingers sends waves through your body. The pleasure blinding you, ensuring that you were seeing stars, robbing you of all sense of the world but the need for release. The coil within you tightened and loosened with each one of Azriel's movements, each flick of the tongue, and thrust of the finger had you losing yourself in ecstasy.
You swore under your breath, pressing your fingers through his dark silky curls, urging him on as you pushed closer and closer to climax. His tongue worked in harmony with his fingers as he would moan, the nails of his free hand that resided on your thigh digging in as he kept your legs spread open for him. Bucking his hips into the sheets. Azriel drank your juices that were currently streaming down his pretty face. With a final, deep thrust of his fingers and a swirl of his tongue, you cried out his name like it was a prayer made for him.
"Azriel...I..oh gods" you whimpered as you reached those waves of bliss. Your nails dug into his hair, your hips bucking involuntarily. Azriel relished every last drop of your orgasm, his tongue greedily lapping up your juices.
"Gotta clean up your mess baby," He moaned against your wet folds.
As your legs began to shake less, Azriel finally pulled away, slowly, removing his fingers from your messy cunt. Azriel's face was slick with your essence as he looked at you with a lovesick grin as he began to unbuckle his leathers.
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