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tongue-like-a-razor · 3 months ago

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Hotter Than Texas | Part III

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: Thank you for all the lovely messages about this series! I'm so happy y'all are loving it and are excited to see it continued <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2200+

Part I | Masterlist

“You got a girlfriend, Brad Bradshaw?”

Bradley looks over at you, sitting in his passenger seat in a green sundress, fiddling with a charm on your bracelet. “No,” he replies rather hoarsely, unsure how to interpret your question.

“Why not?” you continue, your tone light and carefree, as though you’re just asking about the weather.

“I dunno,” Bradley mutters uncomfortably, returning his attention to the road.

You look up at him abruptly and he throws you a brief glance; just long enough to see the concern on your face. “Think about it,” you suggest.

Bradley sighs, making a concentrated effort to check his blind spot before switching lanes – like driving could distract him from this conversation. Why doesn’t he have a girlfriend? He’s never really thought about it so, clearly, it hasn’t been at the top of his priority list. “The last girlfriend I had was in college. Didn’t last long, either,” he says, hoping this might appease your curiosity enough for you to change the subject.

“Hmm.”

He looks over at you again, wondering what you’re thinking. Wondering if you might consider this little detail a red flag. “I haven’t really met anyone I wanted to spend all my time with,” he says. Until now.

“Interesting,” you muse, leaning back into your seat as though you’re satisfied with this response.

“Is it?” Bradley asks, his gaze inadvertently coasting over your bare thighs every time he glances at you.

You shrug mildly, your fingers once again toying with your bracelet.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Bradley asks, feeling temporarily bold.

“Mmm,” you deliberate, dropping your hands into your lap and slanting your head back against the headrest. “We’ll see.”

Bradley furrows his eyebrows, now watching you more than he’s watching the road. “What does that mean?”

“It means, we’ll see, sugar,” you respond absently. Then, suddenly, you spring up in your seat. “Apple orchard ahead!” you exclaim, pointing at the sign on the side of the interstate.

Bradley, more confused than ever, blinks between your outstretched arm, the billboard, and the road. “You want to pick apples?”

You give Bradley a look and say, “They’ll have pie!”

“Oh!” Bradley chuckles. “Say no more.” He makes a few lane changes so as not to miss the fast-approaching exit.

“We can have the pie for lunch,” you say, glancing at the clock on his dash.

“We can stop for lunch and then get pie,” Bradley proposes, hoping to once again enjoy the pleasure of your company at a restaurant.

You consider his offer and then counter with, “We can have some pie, then have lunch, and then have some more pie.”

Bradley laughs. “Sold.”

…

About an hour later, Bradley is sitting with you on a small dock overlooking a creek, the open pie box positioned in between the two of you.

“That’s a fresh pie,” you comment, sticking your fork into the flaky crust.

Bradley grins at the top of your head as you lean over the box to take a bite. For some reason, your obsession with pie supremely amuses him. “You’re fucking adorable,” he says before he can stop himself.

You freeze with the fork in your mouth and then slowly blink up at him, your eyes searching his for a moment before you sensually draw the fork out of your mouth and then lick it for good measure. Bradley nearly has a heart attack. You smirk at him playfully and then get to your feet. “You think?” you ask, as though you want to hear him say it again. You bend over slightly and lift your leg to remove a sandal.

Bradley watches you gracefully step out of your shoes while beads of sweat collect under the collar of his t-shirt. How could he have let that kind of thing slip?

“Fancy a dip, Rooster?” You eye him mischievously.

Bradley gulps as you bunch up your sundress, exposing more of your legs than he should ever get to see, and dip a toe into the water. The current bubbles around your foot.

“It’s cold!” you squeal, lifting your foot out of the water with a laugh.

Bradley chuckles, getting up as you hop in your excitement on the edge of the dock. “Careful,” he cautions, holding his arm out in case you fall. “Don’t slip.”

You plunge your whole foot into the water before promptly removing it with a splash and a yelp.

“Come on,” he says. “How cold can it be?”

You giggle, taking a hold of his arm as you once again lower your foot into the creek.

Bradley lets his hand close gently around your elbow, steadying you while your toe makes circles in the water.

“How deep do you think it is?”

And before Bradley has a chance to respond, you make your way to the bank and take several steps into the creek, squealing as you go. Bradley shakes his head with a laugh as you wade further in.

“What’re you waitin’ for, handsome?” you call to him when you’re about knee deep in the water.

Bradley, who’s pretty sure he’s going to be replaying that line in his head for the next week, strolls up the dock toward the bank. He slips off his shoes and stands on the slope for a moment, letting the water lap at his bare feet.

“It’s freezing, right?” you exclaim giddily.

Bradley shrugs as he finally enters the – admittedly frigid – water. “It’s nice,” he says. “Refreshing.”

You snort as he strides toward you and, when he’s close enough, you dip your hand into the water and splash him.

“Hey now,” he cautions. “Don’t start something you wouldn't want me to finish.” He’s deep enough now that the bottoms of his shorts are skimming the surface of the water.

You giggle and splash him again – harder this time.

Bradley shakes his head, lowering his hand into the water. “Just remember,” he says, “you asked for this.” And then he glides his hand along the surface, sending a cluster of water droplets in your direction.

You screech, covering your face and, not a moment later, start a boisterous aquatic attack, showering him with icy water and completely impairing his visual field. The skirt of your dress floats in the water like a lily pad as you retreat deeper into the creek.

Bradley, who’s now soaked from head to toe, peels off his t-shirt and tosses it onto the dock. Then, he follows you deeper. “You’ve been warned, princess,” he says, gathering a wave of water and sending it in your direction.

You scream as the giant splash drenches you entirely. You stand still for a moment, accepting your fate, and then you wrap your arms around your shoulders, shivering as you glance up at Bradley whilst water drips from the tip of your nose. “I’m all wet!” you shriek.

Bradley laughs, finally approaching you. “What did you expect?”

“That you’d let me win!”

Bradley eyes you with a smirk. “Let you win? Honey, you don’t know me at all.” Bradley can’t remember the last time in his life he’d used so many pet names, but, looking at you, they just keep rolling off his tongue.

You pout at him, your lashes dripping water every time you blink. “I’ll get you back when you least expect it,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. “Your lips are turning blue,” he says, noticing that your teeth are starting to chatter.

You let Bradley lead you out of the water and, once you’re back on the bank, you start to wring out the bottom of your sundress. The wet material sticks to your curves invitingly and Bradley begrudgingly looks away.

…

“Want me to drive for a while?” you ask, approaching the car.

Bradley looks over at you with an amused smirk as he pulls open the passenger door. “Nope,” he responds.

“You don’t trust me with your precious Bronco?” you ask playfully.

Bradley chuckles, shaking his head. “I just don’t mind driving.”

“Neither do I.” You shrug.

Bradley ponders for a moment before replying, “Next time.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Planning another road trip with me already?”

Bradley feels the unwelcome – but vexingly predictable – stutter of his heart as you continue to hold his gaze. He tightens his grip on the frame of the door he’s still holding open because he can’t very well sink his hands into you. Not only are you much younger than anyone Bradley’s ever dated, you’re also Hangman’s little sister, a reality so unfortunate that it almost feels contrived. Of all the girls in the world, why does he have to be so utterly infatuated with you? After a few seconds of – we’ll call it deliberate – silence, he grins. “If you’ll have me,” he says.

You smile. “Fun,” you say, drawing a little closer to the passenger door – a little closer to Bradley. “Where are we going?”

Bradley gulps uneasily. “Anywhere,” he says, his voice raspy and uneven.

You graze your teeth over your bottom lip and Bradley could swear that the heat of the afternoon sun is about to melt his very bones. “I’ve always wanted to take the scenic route to Alaska,” you muse, pursing your lips.

Bradley watches you unblinkingly. “Let’s go,” he says.

You let out a peal of laughter and slap him lightly on the chest. “Can you imagine?” you exclaim.

He can. “It’s a bit in the opposite direction,” he says somewhat ironically. “But anything’s better than the desert,” he concludes, slowly shifting his weight after standing very still for a very long time.

You smile at him sympathetically, as though you can tell he’s suffering greatly. “Rain check?” you ask softly.

Bradley, who is absolutely sure that there isn’t a single organ in his body left uncooked, comments facetiously, “Does it ever rain here?”

…

“Let’s stop for some coffee,” you say about half an hour after getting back on the road.

If Bradley didn’t know any better, he’d think you might be finding excuses to extend the trip. “With a pinch of salt?” Bradley teases you, but obediently merges onto the offramp.

“I’m thinking of switching majors,” you say quietly, as though you’re unsure whether you really want to share this information.

Bradley glances over at you as he pulls up to a red light. “Sounds like you might need something a little stronger than coffee.”

You snort loudly and then let out a dramatic sigh. “I’m thinking you might be right, darlin’.”

Bradley’s heart races as he pulls into the lot of the first bar he sees. Frequenting watering holes is absolutely on the list of things Bradley should not be doing with his colleague’s baby sister. But you seem like you need to get something off your chest. And Bradley can’t imagine a more ideal way to spend an evening.

The tavern is low-lit and crowded, and you shift slightly closer to his side upon entering. Bradley instinctively places a hand on your back, like it’s meant to be there or something. He guides you through the packed bar toward an empty table near the back and waves down a server before taking a seat across from you.

He slides you a cocktail menu and watches you peruse it without saying a word. When the server arrives, you order a paloma.

Bradley orders a whiskey neat and fixes you with a weighty look once the server departs. “You want to talk about it?” he asks.

You shrug. “We can.”

Bradley continues searching your face. “Do you want to?”

You sigh and look down into your lap. “Nobody knows yet,” you admit. “I’m halfway through my junior year so switching would really set me back.”

Bradley nods sympathetically. He knows all about being set back. “What are you thinking of switching to?”

“Psych,” you respond hesitantly.

Then the drinks arrive and you fall uncharacteristically silent. Bradley takes a sip of his whiskey while you down a quarter of your cocktail in one gulp. “You want my advice?” he asks. “Or are you just sharing?”

You meet his gaze distantly. “My parents are gonna flip shit,” you says monotonously, as if you haven’t even heard his question.

Bradley smirks at you. “It’s their job to overreact,” he says. “They just want to protect you.”

You absently run your finger around the rim of your glass. “My brother’s gonna question my judgement. Say I’m making a mistake.”

“Your brother has questionable judgement, himself,” Bradley points out.

You let out a small chuckle. “I wish I knew both outcomes before making a decision.”

Bradley could sure relate to that feeling. “Sometimes, you just have to go with your gut. It may not apply here, to be honest, but this guy I know – one of my superiors – he uh, he has this motto: ‘Don’t think, just do.’ I’m not saying yours has to be a split second decision. But, if it were, and you had to decide this minute, without weighing the consequences or talking it over with your family, what would you choose?”

You blink up at him soberly and state, “Naval Academy.”

Bradley’s eyes widen stupidly as he processes your words. “That” – he croaks, then clears his throat – “that’s not psychology.”

You suck in your cheeks and solemnly shake your head.

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly!

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ghoulsgraveyard · 2 months ago

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Animal Instincts

a/n: this gets freaky y'all. I wrote this when I was higher than a mf. so if it's written weird, that's why. content warnings: PISS KINK (it's the basis of this fic. it is unavoidable), daddy kink, claiming/marking, possessive dialogue, kind of ownership kink. no y/n because I don't like it. Reader has a vagina but is completely gender neutral. word count: 2k

“Animal instincts are so weird” It was a lazy Saturday morning, neither of you had work that day “Yeah I would imagine that, getting pissed when i'm eating and someone walks in or hating anyone who goes near my, like, mate? Or whatever?” You look him up and down “then again I don't have to imagine that one” Logan smiled and rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Yeah the territorial one is absolutely real. Drives ya to some pretty wild ideas about that person” he winks “oh yeah? Like what?” you egg him on “like right now i'm thinking about how I need to ‘secure the nest’ and how I should piss on you to stake my claim, and how I should remain on lookout in case of predators”

“Hold on, what did you just say?” you turn to face him “I should remain on lookout in case of predators” he replies “no, before that” Logan’s mouth cocks into a smirk “I need to secure the nest” you roll your eyes “after that” he grins at his ability to irritate you “what about it?” you huff out an annoyed sigh “Logan, what did you say?” a short pause hangs in the air, “my current instinct is to piss on you.” he starts to move off the bed towards the bathroom, presumably to relieve himself “Why, you looking for some new ideas?” his voice lilts up playfully.

You do not feel playful. You feel aroused? Your eyes dilate at the thought. On your knees, body bare to him as he stands towering over you, his impressive frame practically eclipsing your view marks you in such a- you cut off your own line of thought. It was disgusting, it was degrading, it was so. Fucking. Hot.

“Hey, you spaced out for a second, you good?” you regained focus onto him, your face flushed with heat. You nod feeling breathless “yeah, yeah I’m fine” voice a little shaky. It was suddenly a lot harder to ignore the consequences of sleeping naked. Skin to skin contact was something you both craved, but subsequently often made it hard to get out of bed.

Logan raises his eyebrow at this, he caught a scent in the air at the same time he noticed your widened eyes, the conclusion he draws is one that shocks, pleases, and excites him; you are. His brow cocks as his mouth splits into a grin. “Something you’re thinking about” he pulls you closer to him you now feel his hardened cock rubbing onto you, he leans into your ear and whispers “something you’re wanting?” he rolls his hips against you. You stifle a moan at the feeling. “It doesn't seem like a horrible idea” you murmur, gaze averted in embarrassment. Logan growls upon hearing your confession, he wanted to push you a little more he decided. “What was that you said? Speak up honey I can’t hear you” he coos with condescension. “I just. I dunno, maybe it’s not such a bad idea” you pause, finally able to regain eye contact, but Logan looks at you expectantly, beckoning your expansion “you know, you doing that to-” he cuts you off “Doing what?” his eyes have darkened, he needs you to say the words. You flounder at the intensity, feeling shame at your desire.

Logan cocks an eyebrow, you drop your gaze, and surprisingly he doesn't ask you to lift it, he allows you this reprieve in such a depraved request. “The, you and um you” you sputter trying to force the words out of your mouth “you peeing on me, marking your territory, it doesn’t uh, it doesn’t sound like a bad thing to try- to do, I mean.” you catch yourself “it doesn’t seem like a bad thing to do at all.” Logan's chest rumbles as he speaks “doesn’t seem too bad to me either” you both look at each other, eyes expecting and bodies awaiting.

Logan grinds harder against your hip “I can't do that for you right now sweetheart, I’m too hard” he rocks his hips and chuckles at the pout that had formed on your face. “That’s okay though I’m sure we can think of some ways to fix that” he bites your lip and drags it out. You groan both at the feel of the liquid that was beginning to trickle down his tip and at his poor attempt at a joke. “Lo- Logan” you breathe out, he pinches your skin lightly “Daddy” you correct “you could fuck me” you suggest shyly “Logan smirks “that what you want?” you nod “you want daddy to fuck you till he cums, just so he can piss on you?” you mewl at his words, and tremble beneath him as you raise you slowly raise one knee up to his thigh. He grabs roughly at it and your other knee, moving to position your legs spread and presented for him. He pulls back to lean down and spit on your clit rubbing it in, the depraved action and animalistic intent flooded you with desire.

He taps the uncut head of his cock against your clit, pulling back the skin to reveal a flushed deep red tip shiny with pre. He positioned himself and applied pressure to your hole, not enough force to give way to being filled with him. “You’re a filthy little slut” you practically sob from the teasing, your cunt clenches as if to pull him in. “But you’re my little slut” he pushed into you, you gasp sharply at the stretch, the burn stung. He pouted down at you with a light mock “what’s the matter baby?” you feel him slowly start to drag out “there’s, so much” he preened as he slowly inched back in, now a bit further “I know baby I know. Y’get stuffed too full.” he drags back once more “but you can take it right baby?” he forces another inch and rubs a tear from your face you hadn't noticed forming. You nodded slowly, drunk on touch you dropped into a whole new space. “Yeah. you can take it all” he buries his hips into you, bullying your insides into submission.you practically felt him in the back of your throat. He swirls his hips, wiry hairs rubbing on your clit. “Feels so good,” you moan. He grabs at your knees, pulling them up, he rubs right into the spot that makes your eyes cross. “So, what made you want this?” you breathe out “i’m not the only filthy slut here, you’re the one who started it” you teased,scratching his arms he- ever the masochist- twitches at the pain “y’really wanna know?” you nod breathlessly

“I want this because I want to own you” his hips snap “any other animal can smell it, can smell and know you’re mine” he lowers his head to lick and bite at your neck “I defile you like this and I own you, I spoil you for everyone else” he continues to pound into you, “everyone’ll know this is my chew toy, claimed’ em and everything” he mumbles working himself into a fit as he folds you into a mating press, one hand holding himself up while the other grips your chest. The wet clapping noise of his hips meeting yours filled the room. Your eyes roll back and you moan loudly “ya like that? You like daddy ruining you? Pissing all over you so no one else will take you? Treating you like an animal, like - fuck - like an object? I own you so I can do whatever I want, right?” you nod along “right?” his hips pick up speed “right! Yes! Please, feels so good. N I want it daddy, want it so bad. Need you to fuck me so hard, need you to fill me up claim my cunt for your own, then-” you’re cut off by the moan that rips through you “need you to piss on me. Treat me like a human object, your slut, your tool to pleasure. Corrupt me, ruin me, vandalize me with your claim”

The repeated thumping of his wild hair at your clit leave you tightening around him “m’close daddy m’close” “I know, me too” “can we cum together” the plap of his balls meeting your ass gained intensity “y’want me to cum in you huh?” his hand moves to hold your neck “pissin on you aint enough you want some of me in ya too.” You keen and writhe around him “I can’t stop it” Logan licks a long wide stripe on your neck “Then don’t.” he digs his teeth into the spot where your shoulder met your neck. The pain caused the fireworks in your belly to go off, legs shaking and tears welling in your eyes. Your cunt clamps down on the wolverine’s cock he saws in three long hard thrusts and buries himself as deep into you as he can and releases rope after rope of hot, thick, cum that floods your cunt. He gives a few slow thrusts, pushing himself in as far as he can.

A few moments later he slides out of you, and rises to stand in front of you. Usually you’d whine about the loss of him inside you, but now you were humming with excitement. He was a sight to behold; 6’2, broad shouldered, and about 300 pounds of pure muscle and metal, standing before your prone form. He lazily palms at his cock “y’sure you want this” “please” you whisper. Logan closes his eyes, and thanks god for finally getting that reward for all the shit he’s put up with for all these years, and he releases. The hot golden liquid lands across your chest, and you gasp at the sensation of it. “Y’like that baby?” he aims higher at your hairline “you like being showered in daddy’s piss? Fuck you’ll take anything I give you. So good.” he smiles, then aims to spray your cunt with his piss “two claims on that cute little pussy in one day, what a reward for you” he sighs, his stream dribbling off the a close. You were panting, exhausted and thoroughly satisfied.

“That was. So good.” you pant out. Logan smiles down at you, sweaty, disheveled, covered in pee and still the most beautiful creature he could even imagine. “glad it was good for you too bub, c’mon, lets go get cleaned up” You take Logan's hand and he guides you to the bathroom. you start the water in the shower, allowing it to heat up while Logan stripped the bed.

When Logan joins you in the shower you have just finished rinsing out your hair. He drapes himself over your back, arms meeting each other in front of you, he kisses your neck. “How do you feel” you smile at how Logan always checks in on you as soon as he can “I feel like I just had the nastiest fuck this building has ever seen.” you say as you switch places so he is under the water “but for real, I feel great, a few aches, but regular aches.” You pause, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You make me feel good Logan” you place a hand to his face, which he immediately presses into. His whole life he’s had to be rough, tender is a trait that will get you killed, he has only ever been a tool used to hurt and kill. He is learning how to be soft, he is practicing how to be gentle, sometimes he needs to hear that his hands have done good.

You wash him reverently, massaging soap into the wide expanse of his chest, following the hair down to groin. There was no sexual undertone to how you cleaned him, only a tender domestic intimacy.

After you had both dressed, you assessed the damage to the -frankly already sweat stained- mattress. Logan looks at you with faux solemnity “I think I just heard it wish for death.” You laugh at his joke, helping him move the bulky shape.

You manage to bring in down to the ground where Logan then lifts the thing into the dumpster with ease. You smile as he returns to you “Do you know what this means?” he kisses you before telling you no, “it means we spend the whole day mattress shopping.” You kiss him with a smile. Logan groans in a false display of displeasure at the idea of a day with you building your home together.

“Damm” tags: @mistyorchid @meiwes-eat-flesh

part 2

#logan howlett #Logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #my works

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unlicensed-queer · 4 months ago

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Study Session

Summary: Donnie and the reader are childhood friends going to college together and feelings run hot one night working on a biology project

Warnings: Shmut (sub! Donnie and unprotected sex, wrap it up folks, unprotected is only fun in fiction and monogamous relationships!)

Pairing: Donnie Darko x Fem! Reader

Notes: so like the smut was fun but I loved writing the dialogue between reader and Donnie, it was so fun to imagine them being tired and frustrated with their assignment and blaming the flies. First smut post hope y'all enjoy! (I did not proofread this have mercy on me). Divider by @saradika-graphics

Donnie and you had been friends as long as you could remember. You had grown up next door neighbors, running around the neighborhood, poking salamanders and making mud castles. Then later as soon as you got your license, the two of you drove around looking for anything to do in your sleepy Iowa town. You'd been together forever, always had each other's backs and been there for each other through your darkest moments. You knew almost everything about Donnie, except one thing. What you didn't know was that he had been pining after you since he could recognize the difference between girls and boys. You didn't know that he had picked the college he did simply because you were going there and he couldn't stand the thought of not being able to see you. And you didn't know that every night Donnie lay awake with his hand in his pants and his eyes closed, thinking of the way your hair smelled and how the sun shone off your skin. He was addicted to you, obsessed. One time you left your hoodie at his dorm, he had cherished it. He kept it in a box in his closet, secluded and safe, taking it out to bury his face in your scent as he rutted helplessly into his bed. The poor boy wanted you so bad it hurt. Of course it wasn't just that he thought you were hot, a lot of girls were hot, no it was the fact that you never treated him like a bomb about to go off, never looked at him like he might snap and run at you with a broken glass. You treated him like a normal friend, even after the shit show with the flooded school and the inspirational speakers house. But the fact that you were everything he ever wanted in a girl, strong, confident and forceful, didn't hurt.

Now Donnie was smart and Donnie was brave but he was terrified to admit any of this to you. He was so scared of ruining what you had that he held it back, content with his fantasies and his right hand, left if he was feeling adventurous.

One night you were sitting together, chewing your pencils and scratching your head over a biology project. The results of your trials weren't lining up the way they were supposed to and you just couldnt figure out what was going wrong. Donnie sat back with a sigh and stretched his cramped back.

"I dunno man have you considered that maybe the flies are just fucking stupid or something?" He asked, to frustrated to think of any actual ideas "maybe tomorrow we can print off an instruction manual of what they're supposed to do and they can read it with their weird ass little eyes"

You huffed a distracted laugh as you looked over the spreadsheets for the millionth time

"Sure let's tell them that they're giving they're larvae the wrong birth defects and that they need to try harder" You let your head fall, thumping against the textbook on your mattress

"I don't know what's going wrong, maybe the dosages in the food is wrong?" You asked, voice muffled. Donnie looked down at you. Your were laying on your stomach and your shirt had rode up, exposing the dip of your back. He swallowed, funny how an inch of exposed skin and the curve of your ass in shorts could make his brain short circuit.

"Yeah uh, we could try that"

You looked back, frowning slightly.

"You good Donnie? You look all sweaty are you sick?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. Donnie gave a bright and only slightly forced smile and gave you a thumbs up. As soon as you turned away he hurriedly grabbed a throw pillow and held it on top of his lap. He groaned internally, why did he always feel like this in the most inconvenient times? He didn't want to be one of those gross guy best friends that only spend time with a girl because they want to fuck her, but he needed you so badly. He could have drooled over the sight of the how your clothes hugged your body, how your shoulder moved as you turned pages.

Donnie took a deep breath, he couldn't stand it anymore. Even if you rejected him it would still be better than this halfway hell of agonizing over you day and night

"Y/N, I..I wanna..I gotta say something" Donnie mumbled, twisting the tassels on your pillow. You sat up and looked at him.

"Is it why you been acting so weird for the last 20 minutes?" You asked, pushing your hair back "do I have something stuck in my teeth?" You lifted your hand to your mouth in worry.

"Nonono, your teeth look great, you look great , I-" Donnie flushed with nerves. He could string together a rant about smurfs or rabbits or why he hated fakey VHS messiahs but as soon as he wanted to just say he liked you it was all jumbled up. You were so close to him, he could see the faint freckles on your nose. He didn't think about doing it, he just knew that a moment later his lips were pressed to yours and it was everything he ever wanted. He didn't care if you slapped him and never wanted to speak again, it was worth it for a moment of feeling your plush lips and being enveloped in your scent. He broke away, lips parted and pupils blown wide.

“Sorry uh-" he didn't even get to finish his sentence before you had pushed him back onto the bed, kissing him hard. Donnie moaned and threaded his hands into your hair. You were both inexperienced and the kiss was all tongue and teeth but still the heat pooled in your core. You pulled away for a moment to breathe, looking down at Donnie. His lips were swollen and pink, his hair messy and his cheeks flushed.

“Y/N, fuck, need..need you" he whimpered, tugging at your waist band. He felt like his brain was melting, you were so pretty and he was so hard and he needed you so badly it hurt.

“Please-please I-” Donnie felt you wrap a hand around his cock and he gave a whimper that sounded like he was about to cry.

"Need what?” You teased. You knew full well what he wanted, your pussy warm and wet around him. But you weren't going to let him have it that easy, he'd get spoiled.

“Wanna fuck you, please Y/N, I'll make you feel so good I just need you, needa be inside you.." Donnie begged, pressing kisses to your neck and face. “Please" he whispered into your skin, drunk on the strawberry scent of your body wash.

“So polite aren't you?" You murmured to Donnie as you cradled his face in one hand. You shifted your legs to pull off your shorts. Donnie looked down with wide eyes and swallowed dryly.

“Cat got your tongue?" You laughed as you tugged down his pants and boxers to his knees. Donnie looked back at you. His eyes were huge, they always were but this time they seemed almost glassy with awe.

“You're so pretty" he whispered, lifting his hands to your hips. You smiled and kissed him slowly as you sank down onto him. Donnie groaned into the kiss, his hips bucking unconsciously. It felt so much better than he could have imagined, tight and hot and velvet soft, rippling around him. He bit his lip trying not to cum instantly. A shock of electric pleasure shot through him when you started to ride him. He couldn't control the sounds he made. He didn't know if he was talking or whimpering or what but his mouth was open, praise and pleasure dripping from his lips.

“Feel so good inside me" you panted, hips raising and falling, the obscene sound of your skin together filling the dorm. Your hips burned but the pleasure was enough you couldn't stop. You were lost in the pleasure when you felt Donnie grab your hips, halting your movement. You looked down in confusion, seeing Donnie with his eyes clenched closed.

“Donnie? Are..are you ok?" What if he wanted to stop? Had you done something wrong?

“Just..just gotta..hold on for a second" Donnie mumbled, face flushing red. His cock throbbing, desperate to cum. You looked down at him, a knowing grin spreading across your face

“Were you about to cum?" You asked, mirth in your voice. Donnie flushed even redder

“Not my fault you're..fucking good at this!" He protested, taking a few deep breaths to back himself away from the edge. You laughed, your head tipping back. Donnie couldn't believe how beautiful you were. He gripped your hips again, thrusting his hips up. The tight wet heat was intoxicating, he felt like he could drown in your scent and die a happy man. You were his goddess and his altar and he would worship any way he could. As you started to move again Donnie bit back a whimper as his cock throbbed.

“So pretty, so fucking pretty" he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. Your lips pressed together in a messy and desperate kiss. Donnie fucked you like he wanted to be part of you, whimpering desperate pleas and praises as he thrust his hips up automatically. He could feel his climax building, rushing up on him and he gripped your hips tightly.

“Can’t-nnh-can’t stop-Y/N-” he grunted, he could feel your hot breath panting on his neck as you bounced above him. He reached down and pressed two fingers to your clit, rubbing in a circular motion, entranced by how wet you were. The additional stimulus made your brain short circuit and you gave a breathy moan, Donnie wanted to record that and play it on loop until he came dry.

"hh-fuck-hh” Donnie couldn't string together a sentence as he held himself back from cumming. He didn't want to cum before you, he wanted to serve you, to be good. Above him he felt you seize, your pussy rippling around him as you gasped. He felt a gush of slickness over his hand and he couldn't help himself, cumming hard with a whimpering moan of your name. As he lay, panting and sweaty with you laying on his chest one thought crossed his mind.

“Best fucking study sesh ever"

#jake gyllenhaal #donnie darko #donnie darko x reader #donnie darko x you #smut

505 notes · View notes

angelshadowsinger · 1 year ago

Text

Assistance

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.8k

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: smut, & a lil dosage of fluff at the end

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬:

dirty talk, heavyyy praise kink, oral(f receiving), implied size kink, light breeding kink, creampie, cum play, a little overstim, Az is a fuckin freak, sweeeeet aftercare 💗

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

Azriel hears that no one has ever made you orgasm before, and makes it his mission to show you what you've been missing... again and again.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

y'all this is narstyyyyy nasty... as in, absolute filth. literal prawn. the most detailed smut i have ever written... probably too much detail. be warned.

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ꜱɪᴘʜᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

“I dunno, I’ve just… never been able to finish when I’m with a guy,” you shrugged, nonchalant.

Mor’s jaw was on the floor, her big brown eyes filled with horror. She gasped, “A man has never made you cum?”

You reached across the wide oak table and slapped her arm roughly. “Would you shut up before every citizen of Velaris hears you??”

It had been quite a while since you’d lost your virginity, and after you’d run through a couple partners, you’d come to accept the fact that a man would never deliver that finishing, white hot ecstasy to you. But the way your friend had said it like such sacrilege made you embarrassed, a flush creeping up your ears.

“It’s fine, it’s not like I’ve never come in general,” you went on a bit too quickly, like you had to explain yourself. “It’s just that if I’m with somebody, and I wanna finish, then I have to… do it myself.”

“Gods,” Mor sat back, finishing the final sip of her— how many was that again?— umpteenth glass of wine. “This is why I prefer women.”

You stifled the laugh that nearly escaped. “I wish I could share that sentiment. Sadly…,” you sighed, “Penis is what does it for me.”

“Apparently not,” Mor whispered under her breath, going to sip more from her cup, but it was already empty.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the open bottle, ready to pour her another— but nothing came out. The two of you blinked at the empty glass, slow to register what that meant exactly.

“Welp. Should we start taking shots, then?” She asked with concerning sincerity.

You were quick to shoot her down. “Um, no thanks. I'd rather not feel like complete death at training in—” you glanced at the clock above the hearth, “six hours.”

Mor’s expression turned sour, as did yours. Six hours was certainly not enough time for your tipsiness to wear off completely, especially since wine had been your choice of poison for the night. “Fucking cauldron. Guess we should call it a night,” she groaned, dragging her pretty hands across her face.

The House cleaned away your glasses and the numerous empty wine bottles and corks that littered the surrounding area. You thanked it, stroking the table briefly as Mor trudged off, wanting to take a minute to yourself and maybe have some tea to relax before bed. You were completely unaware of the shadowy figure that was frozen around the kitchen corner, having heard every word of your secret confession.

Azriel stood in silent contemplation behind the doorway. He did not believe in fate, or destiny, or whatever crock of nonsense others would claim ruled their lives, but… was it not a sign that he had been walking into the kitchen for a late night sweet, only to stumble upon you spilling drunken secrets? It was rare to find anyone else up as late as him, and it would be a lie if he claimed he wandered out of his chambers tonight solely in search of a snack.

The two of you were quite close friends, but there was something more there that neither of you were brave enough to acknowledge. Lingering glances, teasing flirtation that always went a bit too far, the easy back and forth you volleyed with your sarcastic, dry comments. Yes, somehow the shadowsinger had found himself wrapped around your little finger, yet again enamored with a beautiful lady friend who did not return his interest.

Except you did.

Azriel was too blind to know it; too doubtful, too hard on himself to believe you would really want him. But that did not stop him from thinking about you every time he fisted his cock in the long, solitary hours of the night.

Everyone else in the circle could see it plain as day— in fact, Mor was perhaps the most eager proponent of them all. And perhaps she was a bad friend for allowing you to spill that sultry, enticing secret when she was aware that the shadowsinger who loved you now idled within earshot. Perhaps she was even worse for leaving in a hurry, a smirk on her lips and her fingers crossed as she skipped off to her room.

You remained at the large wooden table, unaware that the man who ruled your fantasies was just around the corner. He was silent and still as possible, battling himself with whether he should sneak off and never breathe a word of this, or if he should join you and take the risk. His shadows reported to him from the other corner of the room, informing that you were now sipping tea and looking gorgeous as ever, clad in a tight, sparkly evening dress that you had worn to the club that Mor had taken you to earlier that night.

Azriel stepped out from his hiding place.

You jumped— even with your fae hearing and so many hours spent with your friend, you never adjusted to how sneaky the spymaster could be. He emerged from the darkness of the kitchen, donned in gray sweats that hung low on his hips, exposing a glorious stripe of tanned, hard muscle that you stared at shamelessly. The white t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest was criminal, and you had to actively avert your eyes from burning into his visage, finally forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

But Azriel was looking at you, too, taking in how your dress flawlessly hugged your every curve, the expanse of your arms and décolletage that laid bare in the sleeveless, sweetheart ensemble. He noted the matching heels that were kicked haphazardly underneath your seat, the hair now falling from the clip you’d pinned at the beginning of the night, your slightly glazed expression. A small smirk graced his lips.

“Az!” You sighed, a hand on your chest, “How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me like that?”

The Illyrian only shrugged, approaching slowly. “How many times do I have to tell you to work on your awareness? Always take note of your surroundings?” He quipped back easily, coming to stand beside you. He was so tall that you had to crane your neck to look up at him, and you motioned for him to take the seat that Mor had vacated only minutes earlier.

You play-scowled as he obliged, only replying once he was sat, his large wings tucking in behind broad shoulders. “And why would I do that, when one of your shadows is always watching for me?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes widened, a faint blush tinging his cheeks. You wished you could commission Feyre to paint that expression— you loved how boyish it made him look, how cute. But he quickly recovered, that measured mask of cool returning to his handsome face. “You should be flattered. They seem to take interest in you.”

“Hmm,” you feigned thought, rolling your eyes to then land on him and bat your lashes, “Just them that are interested?”

The shadowsinger couldn’t contain his grin. Flirting with you was just too easy, and he loved when you looked at him like this, gave him all your attention. It never led anywhere, anyway— so really, it was harmless… right? He chose not to respond, shrugging and taking a sip of the teacup that the House had conjured for him.

You huffed, displeased. Azriel was always the one to cut your flirting short, only entertaining you to the point where you weren’t sure if he was just playing with you or if there was actually some sincerity in his antics. It was fittingly mysterious of him, and undeniably irritating. You decided you weren’t going to have any of that tonight, the remnants of your liquid courage just enough to push you a step further than you would otherwise go.

“Az, tell me—,” you crossed your arms over the table and leaned toward the spymaster who took another sip of tea, nodding for you to go on. It took every ounce of the male’s willpower to not drop his gaze to your cleavage that was now pressed onto the tabletop, squished between your arms. “— Have you ever made a girl come?”

Azriel spit out the hot liquid, wings going rigid behind his back and his scarred fingers clutching the tiny cup in his palm. You examined the fresh line of tea that was sprayed onto the table, slightly amused as the House began to clean it away. But you continued on, determined to get an answer.

“I’ve heard you have a long list of lovers, surely you know how to do it?”

The Illyrian’s cheeks were now a bright red, the most obvious display of emotion you’d ever seen from him. “What—” he stuttered, still shocked that you had really just asked him that. “—Who told you that?”

You frowned, tilting your head in your hands, elbows sliding out further onto the table. “I asked first,” you pouted, taking a sip from your cup.

The male fumbled for words. True, he had heard your conversation with Mor and yes, he did make the choice to come in and sit down with you but never would he have expected you to ask him such a thing, so outright, so brazen.

“…I have,” he finally replied, slightly hiding behind his cup. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so timid; it was endearing.

“But how do you know you really did?” You queried, looking at him curiously. “I mean— girls can fake it, so how do you really know?”

Azriel seemed offended at your insinuation. But he only pursed his lips and said, “My question…?”

You clicked your tongue and answered, “Cassian and his big mouth. And then Rhys with his… And maybe Mor at some point as well.”

His face contorted into a scowl, shadows coming to lick at his shoulders. But he decided to save his revenge for later, instead meeting your inquisitive gaze and deciding that your intention was not to slander him. “I am almost certain that my partners have never faked completion,” was all the explanation he gave.

“But how do you know—”

“Do you fake a lot of orgasms, Y/N?” Azriel shot back, his turn to pose the picture of nonchalance as he leaned on one elbow, hand on his cheek.

Your cheeks burst into flames. “W-What? No— I—”

The shadowsinger smirked at your flustered babbling. He was tempted to poke at you some more but took pity, instead savoring how cute you looked when you were embarrassed. But you couldn’t find the strength to answer, so he went on to fill the silence.

“If a man cannot make you finish, you should move on and find someone who can,” he said calmly, studying your bashful gaze that was now fixed on the table before you.

You sat up, removing your arms from the table so you could cross them over your chest, guarding yourself. It was your choice to enter this conversation but now it was getting a little too real, and your mortification was getting worse by the minute as Azriel’s steady hazel eyes were pinned to your every movement.

“Yeah…,” you agreed. In theory, his advice was all good and well, but there was no way that it would be that easy. “That’s hard to find, though.”

Azriel gauged your expression, wondering if he should admit he heard your earlier confession to Mor. But you seemed so embarrassed, he didn’t want to make you any more uncomfortable.

“Is there, like, a class you took or something? Maybe you can introduce me to one of your fellow classmates,” you attempted a joke, but the shadowsinger’s gaze only hardened, the corner of his lip twitching in distaste.

Jealousy and possessiveness swirled in his gut, not liking that you had just asked him to set you up— even if you had only meant it as a joke. You were not his, yet your faux request rubbed him the wrong way.

But the slightly hurt look you were giving him now was enough to wipe away any ill emotion that had briefly bloomed. “Just kidding…,” you murmured, fingering the handle of your now-empty tea cup.

Azriel fought to find the words that could navigate him through this strange situation. If only somehow he could reassure you, offer his services, but not ruin your friendship, nor come off creepy.

He took too long, because you rose, excusing yourself, “I think I better get to sleep.” Your cup disappeared and you quietly thanked the house, turning away from the male and heading toward the bedrooms.

The spymaster stood as well, following you down the hall. Both your rooms were at the very end of the walkway, meaning he at least had another minute of your time. His heart beat quickly in his chest, desperate to smooth things over with you, desperate for however much longer he could get with you. “I did not take a class,” he said, matching your pace.

You shot him an inquisitive look over your shoulder.

“One of the marks of a true man is to be able to fully pleasure a lady.”

You laughed, pausing so that you could walk by his side. “So you think of yourself as a true man? What is that supposed to mean?”

Azriel smirked, glad that your disposition seemed a little looser. “It means, I’ve had five hundred years to cultivate my skills.”

“Riiight, with your countless lovers,” you quipped, a little smirk growing on your lips.

A scarred hand pushed you gently, just hard enough to let you know he didn’t appreciate such accusations— even if they held some truth. Those gorgeous hazel eyes rolled as he clicked his tongue, about to shoot something back when you arrived at your door.

You didn’t reach for the handle though, instead turning to look up at him as your back brushed against the sturdy wood of your threshold. “Thanks for all your—,” you blushed, gaze fleeting, “insight.”

Dark brows furrowed at you. You had said it in such a meek little voice, your hands wringing with anxiety. It was easy for him to read your body language, but also, his earlier eavesdropping had cued him in more than you knew. Even though your conversation had made him seem like the one with all the expertise, his heart was slamming wildly against his ribs, tanned cheeks feeling hot. Somehow the spymaster managed to keep his composure and dared to take the leap.

“May I ask why you are so curious all of a sudden, little dove?” He said, a gleam in his gaze. “Would you like for me to prove myself to you?”

You chuckled, shocked, unbelieving. “That joke is deplorable— I think you’ve been spending too much time with Cassian lately. ”

Usually a jab at his brother would make the shadowsinger bark out a laugh, but he remained stoic, looking down at you with profound intensity. The two of you stared at each other, and you found yourself unable to look away. There was always something about Azriel that drew you to him, and in that moment, as he leaned a hand against the door behind you and filled your senses with the scent of cedar and crisp, chilled night…

His gaze flicked down to your lips.

You studied his, the full, soft pink calling to you.

Azriel could barely find the strength to resist kissing you, his face only inches from yours. The sweet, fresh smell of you was so devastatingly strong with such a short distance between you, and the way you were looking at him… he swore he could discern hunger in your beautiful, captivating gaze…

“Do you want that to be a joke, Y/N?” he murmured, warm breath washing over your cheek. The tip of his nose just barely scraped yours, another muscular arm coming to trap the other side of your body so he had you right up against the door with no escape. “I did not intend for it to be, but if that’s what pleases you…”

You looked at him with wide eyes, a shiver running through you. A new scent greeted your nose, and your lips parted as you took it in, your body shamelessly eating up the smell of his growing desire.

The shadowsinger licked his lips, gaze piercing yours as he detected the beginnings of a similar, honeyed scent emitting from you. There was no going back now, he decided. He was closer to you than ever, and he couldn’t pretend he could find satisfaction in you both returning alone to your rooms, not tonight. He dared to caress your jaw, the smooth skin a contrast to the rough texture of his scars.

“It’s your pleasure I seek, always…,” he said, and you held your breath, unblinking as you beheld his astounding beauty up close. “I only aim to please you… will you allow me to?”

Permission— he was asking permission. You could barely think; was he serious? Azriel was not the type to fool about things of such gravity… If this was some cruel joke…

Before you could give it much thought, your mouth was already moving. “Yes,” you breathed, answering him so quietly it was nearly inaudible, “Please, Azriel…”

The Illyrian’s brow twitched and he shuddered. He leaned down lower, lower— big, gentle hands coming to brace the small of your back and the nape of your neck, a thumb slipping along your jaw to point your face up to his… slowly, slow enough to give you the chance to change your mind… You leaned forward, eyelids fluttering shut. Another second went by and then, he kissed you.

Time stopped, and everything else faded away.

His lips pressed against yours and your arms wove around his neck, every place your skin touched exploding with sparks. The smell of him and his desire overwhelmed your senses, your knees weakening as he claimed your mouth with his, pressing you against him harder, hungrier.

You were snug between the door and his broad, powerful body. His hands squeezed at your hips, then slid down to your ass and lifted you effortlessly, your legs securing around his waist. The small friction of your core rubbing against his abs through your clothes was enough to make you gasp for breath.

Azriel seized the opportunity, his tongue coasting into your mouth without caution. The slick muscle wrestled with yours and you pulled at his hair, savoring the quiet moan that spilled onto your lips. You wanted more— to explore more of his skin, discover more of those sounds… Wordlessly the shadowsinger came to the same realization, fumbling with the door handle and tucking the two of you into the privacy of your room.

Your hair fanned out onto the pillows as the male deposited you on your bed, muscled thighs coming to part your legs and settle himself on his forearms above you, lips never leaving yours. It felt unreal to be consumed in the shadowsinger’s kiss, to have his hard body pressed up against yours and your hearts pounding together in harmony.

He felt the same, hardly believing you were really here beneath him, your small hands caressing his arms and his neck, fingernails digging into the meat of his shoulders and curling into his thick onyx locks. Finally he tore his mouth from yours, panting, studying your breathless form under him. “You are so gorgeous,” he praised, licking his kiss-bitten lips, hazel eyes ablaze as he examined the valley of your breasts. Before he leaned closer, he whispered, “Your safe word is moonlight, should you want to stop at any time.”

Though you didn’t plan on using it, you appreciated the consideration… and you wondered just what the male had in mind that might require such a precaution. But he captured your attention once more and you murmured his name as he moved to trail his tongue down your jaw and nibble at your throat, slowly making his way to plant open-mouthed kisses on your exposed cleavage. He pawed at the top of your dress, taking his time as he memorized the taste of your skin, tugging the material down. Your breasts spilled out for his eager mouth to immediately greet, soft lips capturing a nipple and his tongue rolling over it while his fingers found the other. Instinctively your hips bucked up against his, pleasure tickling you as he gave all his attention to your chest, grinding his aching cock into the mattress below.

Teeth grazed the sensitive nub and a moan escaped you at full volume, your cheeks burning when a ravenous glint met the shadowsinger’s eye. With just one swift look you knew he would do anything in his power to elicit more of those sounds from you, and your excitement only bloomed further as a hand slid up the slit in your dress, rough fingers raising goosebumps on your now-exposed thigh.

He kept busy as he explored your chest, sucking and kissing the swell of your breasts. The slow trail of his fingers up your thigh had you clenching in anticipation, whining when the digits brushed the lace edge of your dampening panties.

“Az, wait,” you huffed, causing the male to release your breasts, his warm gaze coming to inspect your face. Even though it was an embarrassing admission, for some reason you felt the need to inform him of your predicament. “I um— I’ve never… No one has ever been able to…”

Hazel pierced into you from his lower position on the bed, his broad shoulders steady and wings taut behind his back. He finished your sentence for you, ceasing your struggle, “…make you cum?”

Just hearing him say it made your soul want to leave your body, and you shut your eyes, nodding, wishing you could just skip this part. A gentle hand cupped the corner of your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek with such tenderness that you dared to meet his gaze.

“I’m honored to be the first,” Azriel stated, unwavering as he looked deep into your eyes. His own were peering into you, the gold in his irises seeming to shine even in the dark of the room.

Your mouth opened to protest that he lower his expectations, but his thumb pressed into your parted lips and the words died in your throat. There was sheer determination in the look he was giving you— promise.

“Don’t think,” he whispered, his other hand coming to pull you down the sheets, back flat on the duvet and now squarely underneath his entirety. His toned body dwarfed yours and his ability to maneuver you with such ease made something distinctly female stir deep inside of you. “Just relax and focus on me. Focus on how my hands feel on you, my lips…”

A mewl escaped you as he leaned down to kiss the hollow of your neck, your head turning into the blanket while he left his mark on your throat. Your hips squirmed and his own pressed down in response, the hard length of him reaching for you through his sweats. The heat that resonated there made you dizzy, a fresh wave of desire pulsing through your pussy as he rutted against it.

The Illyrian’s groan rumbled across your skin, and he sank lower, again taking your breast into his mouth, an elbow digging into the mattress to hold himself up and curl a large hand around the back of your waist. The other wandered up your dress again, this time his fingers immediately cupping your core through your soaked underwear.

A string of quiet moans floated from your lips as his fingertips began to map your dripping cunt through the soiled material. The firm press of his digits against your entrance teased you until they wandered up to slowly rub your clit, his teeth grazing at your nipple. You whimpered, face twisting in ecstasy. Already the shadowsinger was making you feel better than anyone else had, and you weren’t even fully undressed.

At the realization, you fisted the cotton of his shirt. He complied instantly, ripping the article off of him with no issue, and you watched as the tattered cloth was swallowed by the shadows that danced at the foot of the bed. You then took in the sight before you, mouth watering at his utterly male form— the tan, lean muscle that tapered from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist, the contours and bulges that made his long hours of training evident, black ink melding perfectly with the straight planes and dipping down under the hem of his sweats.

Your fingers wandered on their own accord to splay across his broad chest, tracing the tattoos that laid there and thumbing over his nipples. That bit a low moan from the male, and he leaned down and captured your lips once more, tongue dominating yours. His hands disappeared behind your back and suddenly the zip down your back was undone, the material slipping down your sides. You helped him free you of the gown, now only clad in your soaked panties, hips squirming as you throbbed with need.

“Azriel,” you whimpered when his lips touched your sex through the cloth, the male taking a deep breath of your honeyed scent, and closing his eyes. His brow pinched as he experimentally licked at you, your thighs twitching as he released a moan of approval.

You gasped when he tore the drenched fabric off of you effortlessly, his teeth bared in a quiet snarl. Then he grabbed your hips and dragged your pussy onto his mouth, tongue spreading your folds and moaning as he savored the taste of you. He dove into you and you cried out in pleasure, his mouth sucking and nibbling on your sensitive core, tongue dragging up and down your seeping slit with fervor.

All of his attention focused on you was making you delirious, your eyes rolling back as you relished the sensations he was causing. His hands tucked under your ass and grappled onto your hips, not allowing you to squirm away from his generous attack. He alternated between gently sucking on your clit, your folds… then washing the sensitive bud with the flat of his tongue, laving over you wave after wave.

You were clenching, your hole leaking more and more as your body begged for some kind of relief. Utter want throbbed through you as scarred fingers slowly made their way toward your core. All remnants of thought left your skull at the press of rough digits at your entrance. There was nothing you could say or do as a finger slid inside of you, nothing but stretch around him and keen, gasp for breath. Before you could even moan, a second pushed in and disappeared knuckle-deep, right beside the first. The foreign stretch made your thighs tremble around his face, his nose nudging your clit as he continued his ministrations with his tongue.

His name became a prayer on your lips, a chant as those blessed digits curled and his knuckles scraped parts of you whose existence you had not known before. Slick was pouring down your thighs now, the steady, rough friction of his scars rubbing so deliciously along your gummy walls. You forgot any worries you had harbored, left them far behind as Azriel brought you closer and closer to the edge.

At some point you started begging, actually begging— you couldn’t help how good the shadowsinger was making you feel, couldn’t think to filter the words mixing with your ragged breaths.

Azriel only trekked on, mouth earnestly working in sync with his hand, examining the furrow of your brow, the part of your lips, the roll of your eyes back into your skull. Only then did he speak, mouth popping off of you just long enough to encourage you as you circled the drain.

“Good fucking girl,” he growled, the words vibrating through your cunt, tongue lashing against your folds between his praises. “I can feel your tight little pussy clamping down on me, I know you wanna cum…”

You could only whine and latch onto his shoulders as you hurtled toward that line no partner had ever been able to push you to, at full speed now that the shadowsinger was egging you on, pure filth falling from his lips.

“You can do it baby,” he purred, pressing another kiss to your clit, a brush of tongue following in its wake. “You’re gonna make me so proud, I swear my little dove, you’re right there… Come on pretty girl, cum for me, cum on my tongue.”

The tension in your belly heightened and you gasped, your body tensing under his firm grip and your back arching, teetering on the edge. And then you were cumming, your core gripping onto his fingers and pulsing, your head thrown back onto the sheets as you let out a long, sultry moan.

Azriel’s cock throbbed at the sound, his curiosity peaking as he wondered how your pussy would feel milking his cock like that, so tight and wet for him.

Your body was humming with bliss, fingernails embedded in the sheets beside your hips, your breath ragged and sweat glistening at your forehead. You’d only cum that hard a handful of times before, and it had taken a hell of a lot longer for you to get yourself to that point.

The Illyrian’s pace slowed, his fingers and his tongue still moving just enough to let you ride out your orgasm without overwhelming you. He continued to kiss your clit softly— even as his patience was wearing thin, his length crying for you, trapped tightly, painfully, beneath his pants.

His fingers finally fell from your entrance and he inspected the glossy sheen on them before he stuck them in his mouth. You watched as his tongue ran over every inch, savoring the taste of your cum. He pressed one final kiss to your clit and sat up, the tent in his pants more prevalent than before.

“I’m so proud of you, angel,” Azriel praised, a hand skimming down your thigh. His gaze was warm as he made eye contact, but the movement of his hand landing on his cock pulled your eyes from his.

You watched, still breathless as he firmly gripped his length through his sweats, a low sigh falling from his lips. He looked absolutely criminal touching himself like that, the shine of your cum still on his lips and his muscled torso heaving as he caught his breath.

All thought left your brain as his thumbs hooked the hem of his pants, dipping lower until you could see the base of his dark… thick cock. He pushed his pants down fully and your cunt clenched as his fully erect member slapped hard against his navel. The tip was the most beautiful shade of pink you’d ever seen, and your mouth dried as you examined the trail of glistening pre that dripped down the side. He fisted the base of himself, the wide vein running along the underside flexing as he twitched for you, eying the apex between your legs and your shared desire.

“See how hard you make me?” he said, a sinister glint in his gaze pinning you to the mattress. Both of you were fully naked now, and the sight of him approaching you, those big, ominous wings billowing with shadows behind him… he looked like a god, one that was about to completely decimate you. “See how much I ache for you? You completely own me, fuck… now that I’ve had a taste of that pretty little cunt, I’m yours.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was unclear whether this was just dirty talk, or if he really meant that, but in the heat of the moment, you allowed yourself to believe his words were sincere.

He crawled toward you, completely predator as he neared. Heat rolled off his bronze skin, his member reaching for you, wings shuddering in anticipation. “These lips are yours…” he murmured, mouth grazing over yours. You closed your eyes, your arm reaching around his head, fingers carding through his soft hair. “These hands are yours…” His scars skimmed down the curve of your side, tingles echoing in their wake. “This cock, it’s yours…” you gasped as his hot tip sliced through your folds, tracing down your slit with ease from the orgasm he had just gifted you.

You moaned, hips lifting and your sex sliding along the length of him, coating him in your essence. He groaned at the sight, his breath mingling with yours as he panted, watching your most intimate parts slide against each other, your love juices mixing.

“Please, Az,” you cried. You’d never been more turned on in your life, the very tip of him nudging against your hole, the promise of pleasure so close you could taste it.

The shadowsinger could barely hold himself back, but he needed to hear you say it. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded, grit in his harsh tone as he began to lose his manners.

“I want you to fuck me,” you replied instantly, inhibitions thrown to the wind. “Please, please— I need you to fuck me, make me cum with your cock, please Az—”

Whatever semblance of restraint the Illyrian had was lost then, his lips pulling back in a desperate snarl. The sound had your legs spreading, your body feeling fuzzy with the overwhelming urge to be filled by him, taken and claimed by him.

Your body sang as he speared the tip inside of you, your cunt stretching around the sizable girth of him. A whimper fell from the male as he lowered his hips, half his cock disappearing into your tight, wet heat. It felt like he was heaven incarnate inside of you, your eyes rolling back and your legs parting wider around his hips, welcoming him deeper inside of you.

Azriel obliged, his balls slapping the wet backside of your thighs as he surged forward. The moan that fell from both your lips was pure sin, your bodies exploding in pleasure as they connected in the deepest, most intimate way, him fully seated inside of you.

Slowly he started to thrust, hips almost shaking at the all-consuming pleasure that was washing over him. He was already fighting his orgasm as he began to find his pace, the moans he was summoning from you urging him to press deeper, harder.

Again and again his hips slapped into yours, burying that impressive length deep within you. The depths he reached made your eyes cross, your pussy squeezing down on him, and your mouth drying from the constant panting he had you victim to.

He was growling into your ear, sweat sticking his hot chest to yours as he exerted himself. The sounds that tumbled from him only made your slickness grow, a wet patch forming beneath your ass as he started slamming into you with reckless abandon.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my cock inside of you,” Azriel crooned, his face falling so that the bridge of his strong nose skimmed your cheek. It made his breath fall on the crest of your ear, rendering you privy to all the low, delicious noises that slithered out of his mouth. “M’gonna take good care of you, promise…”

Suddenly he pulled out and you wailed at the loss, but he was already flipping you over before you could register what had happened. He yanked you onto your knees, landing a quick slap on your ass before he nudged your legs apart and pushed himself into the new space. His cock dipped into your folds from behind and he loosed a delectable moan as he slid all the way back inside.

From this angle, the tip of him prodded a sacred, uncharted spot that had you shaking, arching your ass onto him and your back bowing in submission. The place he was reaching at the end of your inner walls made you weak, the hard length of him too euphoric for you to handle. He gave a tentative thrust, a hand coming to fist the hair by your scalp, the other weaving around you to tweak a pebbled nipple between his fingers. You sobbed at the newfound intensity, your stomach knotting and your hips sliding back on their own accord, once again seating yourself at the base of his cock.

“You like having me all the way inside, hmm?” he gasped, thrusting deep and hard, the clench of your cunt almost tempting his load straight out of his aching balls.

You gasped an affirmative, each thrust making stars dance on the back of your eyelids. “Yes, ah— yes, deeper— Az!” It must have been your g-spot he was ramming into because you could barely sit upright now, your body nearly collapsing in pure pleasure. “There, oh please right there!”

Azriel’s hand at your chest dove down, a large palm landing right above your womb, right where his cock nestled inside your throbbing cunt. “Here, baby?” He gave a few more thrusts, the very tips of his fingers nudging your engorged clit. “Feel my cock right here, dove? I’m right here inside you, fuck—“

You cried as he continued, ruthlessly pounding into you, the hand in your hair pulling your head back so he could manipulate your body and bend you into the perfect angle to continue hitting that spot.

Again you were rushing toward completion, completely stupefied by the shadowsinger rearranging your guts from behind. The pleasure was too intense— with each thrust his huge, thick cock stretched you to the brim and dragged against that delicious spot deep inside. Sweat dripped down both your bodies, heat and the lewd slap of his wet front against your ass filling the room again and again. His name became the only word you knew, a raspy chant as he brought you closer, closer—

You came with a silent cry, pussy pulling tight and fluttering down onto his hard cock. This orgasm was even stronger than the last, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as his thrusts slowed, the intensity of your throbbing too great for him to continue his quick pace. Rough fingertips continued to circle your clit, drawing out your euphoria as you slumped into his strong chest, trembling with pleasure.

The Illyrian was fighting every inch of himself not to cum right then, blood tanging on his tongue as he bit the inside of his cheek. He refused to violate your perfect womb with his seed, even if every fiber of his being was screaming with the need to claim you as his. But he would not relent to his desires, not without your permission. And he didn’t want to finish yet, not when this was the highest he had ever felt, sheathed inside your ethereal body. So he clutched onto you and channeled all of himself into supporting your weary frame, rubbing your clit as you floated back to earth.

Once you had ceased twitching, Azriel laid your back onto the sheets again, joining you on his side, adjacent to you. You were still panting as you came back to reality, examining his mussed hair and how it clung to his damp forehead, the flecks of pure gold in his hazel irises, his slick, still-hard cock— a ring of your cream adorning the base of him.

Wordlessly you wiggled closer and kissed him. He moaned in surprise, either at how soft and sweet your kiss was, or at the touch of your small hand wrapping around his aching length. You jerked him slowly, the sound of it absolutely obscene, your thumb grazing over the weeping head where precum had once again begun dripping out. Your back pressed up flush against his chest, guiding his cock to your center and slipping the head into your slit, hips pushing into his.

The shadowsinger’s vulgar moan rung out as your warmth surrounded him again, your nails scraping his scalp. An arm slipped beneath your waist, his grip securing on the opposite hip and fully penetrating you once more. This position had your pussy tighter than before, and his chest shook as he tried to breathe normally, trying to fend off his orgasm. His finger slipped to the back of your head again, this time much gentler than before, just to turn your face and peer into your soul.

Azriel couldn’t find it in himself to thrust, just savoring how your bodies were completely intertwined like this, feeling absolutely one with you and staring deep into your gaze. But you wanted him to cum— needed it, pressing your ass flush onto his hips and clenching tight. The male’s broken growl was his only reply, words failing him. It was he who had planned to drown you in pleasure; he had not been prepared for how incredible you would truly feel, how whole he felt when he was inside of you.

You reached down and cupped his balls, feeling how tight and heavy they were with his seed. Azriel’s teeth grazed your lip at the movement, his body starting to shake with the need to release everything he had deep within you.

“Y/N,” he choked out, hips starting to press tentatively to yours on their own volition.

You studied the desperation on his handsome face, the shake in his thighs at each slow thrust, the dull fingernails that dug into your skin as he clung to you. “Azriel,” you moaned, he was reaching that spot again and rutting into it so slow, hard and precise… you could hardly think as pleasure filled your brain with fog once again. “Please… Need you to cum inside of me.”

Azriel groaned, tongue wrestling with yours and conceding as he began to lose himself in you. His thrusts became slower, sloppier, so you hooked your leg around his and began to arch back into him. The Illyrian began panting, fingers grappling onto your hips.

“This cock is mine,” you purred, repeating his earlier words, your ass slapping back against him harder.

His fingertips were blanching, the sight of his wet length sliding in and out of you from behind as you fucked yourself onto him mesmerizing.

“This cum is mine, too,” you squeezed his balls again and he let out a loud whimper, his orgasm surging forth as he started to meet your thrusts. “Give it to me, fill me up with your cum— fuck Az, need it deep inside me, please.”

He snapped, suddenly hard and fast and deep, a few more snaps of his hips that had you crying for him until— The most pornographic moan sounded for him and he pushed every inch of himself inside of you. His wings fluttered, thighs shaking as he gripped onto you and smushed you into the mattress under his weight. Warmth filled your belly as hot waves of cum spurted deep into your womb, his cock throbbing as you pulsed around him, milking every drop you could get. Sharp teeth lodged into your neck as he emptied himself inside of you, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself up as to not crush you completely.

Sweat dripped from his breathless form onto your back, and you laid there blissfully as you caught your breath. The sheets beneath you were completely ruined, drenched in sweat and slick and cum, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care; not when Azriel was naked on top of you, cock sheathed all the way in and his cum spilled deep in your womb.

After a minute, the shadowsinger’s dark chuckle sounded from above you, his fingers tracing down your spine. “Naughty little thing,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear before he laid a kiss there.

You smirked, squeezing onto his cock that was still inside of you, retorting “You like it. You like me~”

He growled lowly, nipping you with his teeth. But he nuzzled you then and your heart melted, his lips ghosting over your cheek as he said, “I do. Very much, in fact.”

You whined as he pulled out of you, the loss of him much too noticeable for comfort. But he was right there, turning you onto your back with care, pressing soft kisses into every inch of your sweat-slicked skin. You could feel his release seeping out, the sheer amount of it too great to stay tucked inside where you so desperately wanted it to be.

Azriel gently pulled your legs apart, inspecting the slow stream of creamy white that trickled out of your raw entrance. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to last long enough for you to cum again,” he said, a thumb running down your soaked folds, “I know you were getting there…” He licked his lips as you clenched under his heated gaze, embarrassed that he was outright admiring your most intimate part. Was he seriously apologizing for not giving you a third orgasm? “Allow me to make it up to you, angel.”

The male leaned down and pressed a kiss to each thigh, sliding back onto the foot of the bed and pulling you with him. You shot him an incredulous look as he settled between your legs, lips just inches from your soiled cunt. There was no way he was really about to do this— the mix of your cum with his was spread wide, coating your inner thighs, your pussy, your ass.

His tongue was like lava as he licked at you experimentally, eyes taking note of the shock apparent in your expression. Hazel glinted at you as he began to make out with your ruined center, his seed dripping from you as he made you clench. But he didn’t seem to mind the taste of himself, for he closed his eyes and traced his tongue down to your messy hole, petting you unabashedly, happily, even.

You didn’t think he could get any hotter. But this… this was outright perverted. Your core felt aflame at the sight, his pure enjoyment as he devoured the mixture of your cum like it was the most sacred delicacy. It had you moaning, legs trembling around his head, clit throbbing as he kissed and sucked at the poor bud.

Deft fingers brushed your core and were immediately coated in that same mixture, slick pouring from you as the shadowsinger continued his depraved quest. Two entered you with no warning and your back bowed, the digits instantly searching for that sweet spot as they pushed through the river of his release. A third joined and you released a garbled sob as they found their target.

Azriel, ever the observant one, took note and pummeled the spot relentlessly, knuckles curling as they slid in so they achieved full stimulation. His tongue was flat against your clit, licking you back and forth, and you were so sensitive from your previous orgasms that tears dotted the side of your eyes, your breathing ragged.

“Az, oh Gods— I—,” you mewled, hips squirming as the pleasure became too much. “Please, I can’t, it’s too much!”

But the Illyrian did not stop, would not stop unless he heard your safe word, his fingers picked up speed. “Come on baby, one more. Just one more,” the words vibrated through your cunt as he held you down, palm flat atop your tummy and pressing your sweet spot down so that it was even more vulnerable to his attack. “Trust me, it’s gonna feel so good angel, I swear.” His lips took hold of your abused pearl and he ravished you, his cum squelching as his fingers drove into you without reprieve.

Pressure gathered deep in your core and you whimpered, the intensity of your pleasure so great it was almost painful. You were close— so close to something big, you could feel that it was different from before with the way your cunt leaked and throbbed, the way your entire core felt on fire.

“Please—” you gasped, not even sure what you were pleading for, “Fuck Azriel, please, yes—!”

You screamed as you came, white-hot ecstasy imploding from your center. You nearly lost consciousness, your eyes crossed with utter bliss as liquid sprayed out of you and onto the shadowsinger’s chest. His chin, his torso, your thighs, and sheets, all of it was drenched as you couldn’t stop the squirt from pouring out of you. Fast fingers replaced his mouth and continued rubbing your clit, only slowing once you had ceased squirting.

Your entire body was shaking, toes curled into the filthy sheets, your brain trying to catch up but it was a mile behind your body.

“I’m— Az, I,” you stuttered, attempting to sit up, shock and shame taking root in your chest. The male was completely drenched from the chin down, the sheets beyond salvation. “I never— I’m sorry—“

A towel appeared from his shadows, and he swiftly wiped himself dry before he joined you on the bed, uncaring of the huge damp spot that now lay beneath you two. He shushed you with a kiss, taking your trembling form into his arms, a hand tucking your hair behind your shoulder. His lips were soft, his touch gentle as he tucked you against his chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I am so proud of you,” he said quietly, his low voice rumbling in your ear, “You did so well, little dove. Now let me clean you up.” His praise sent a pleasant warmth through your bones, and you curled closer to the male, basking in his embrace.

Secured in his arms, his shadows enveloped the pair of you in darkness, their cool caress whispering on your skin. Then, you were hovering over a large marble bath, steam wafting from the filled basin that Azriel was standing in the middle of. Slowly he lowered the pair of you into the water, holding you tighter when you squeaked at the heat from the water leaching into your tender core. He sat behind you, wings stretched over the lip of the tub, your chest against his back.

Wordlessly he tied your hair back and ran a damp cloth over your skin. You were still coming down from your high, the warmth from the water and the strong male at your back making your eyelids droop, exhaustion ebbing into your body. He held you up and washed your back and then his front, and when you leaned back against him, you somehow found the strength to smirk at the erection evident behind you. You scooted back to brush your ass against him and he growled lowly in your ear. The sound sent shivers through you, and you turned to face him, looping your arms around his neck.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, humming in content. The Illyrian kissed the top of your head, large hands supporting your weight as he lifted you from the water. The soft brush of a towel met your skin and his quiet laugh graced your ears when you refused to separate from him, your wet front clinging to his. Eventually he was able to pry you off of him so that he could fully dry you, but it took many kisses of encouragement and gentle praise.

Finally he placed you onto his bed, the silken sheets welcoming your clean, naked skin and flooding your senses with his strong, woodsy scent. Azriel slipped in beside you, his inked arms wrapping around you as he laid on his side, nose tucked into your hair, covering you under the blankets.

“So, did you fake it?” he whispered in your ear just as sleep was about to take you. He had clearly proven himself, teasing you now that you had experienced his full talents.

You swatted him with what little strength you had left, a lazy smile curling the corner of your mouth. “You’re deplorable,” you said and he laughed, gathering you closer to his chest.

You didn’t know what this night would mean moving forward, but you didn’t have the energy to care at the moment— completely drained from the earth-shattering orgasms the shadowsinger had summoned from you. You had the feeling he didn’t want to question it now, either, not as he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world, not when he had you naked, in his arms, in his bed. So you succumbed to slumber, content to leave the questions for the morning, your heart full and your body completely sated for the first time in your life.

⤷ masterlist

#azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #angelshadowsinger #my work #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger

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chaosandmarigolds · 7 months ago

Text

(a little dribble drabble, pure goofiness)

"270."

" Tha' it? 325."

"Got ya bot' 375."

You look up from your tablet and to the men, who were playing poker, or that was what you were thinking but you don't know what they drifted to. With that thought roaming your mind you walk over to their makeshift table and look at all of their cards, Simon had a pair, Kyle with a flush, and Johnny with a full house. So you hum and then intervine, "Whatcha talking about?"

They all look at you as if they were debating to tell or not so Simon shrugs, "Ho' much we lift."

A moment and you blink, "Damn. Okay."

As you were about to leave Simon to loose he speaks again, "You?"

"I dunno," You shurg while picking up a crate, "What's normal?'

"For you? I dunae," Johnny set his cards down, face down of course, and looks you over, "Hundred?"

"Nuh-huh," You frown to him and set the crate down where you wanted it, "I'm pretty strong."

Silence.

"Awe guys c'mon."

A few stares as they tried to find their words.

"I bet, I bet," You falter as you try to figure out what you wanted to wager and you find it, "I bet two rounds that I could...I could...Firefighter carry any of ya."

Kyle laughed, turning his head in shame as he did- meanwhile, Simon continued to try to tell if you were joking or not. As for Johnny, well he was already laying on the garage floor to take you up on the bet. When he got a confused glance from all three of his teammates he smiled, "Two free roun's? Easy mon'ea."

To his words you frown, looking down at him as he lays in a mummy position on the ground, arms crosses over his chest and a stupid smile across his face. You tilt your head to the sight, and with a fluid motion you move to pick him up, grumbling as you did, "You're suppose to give-give me your hands, Johnny."

"Right-o, sorry."

Once he followed through you were able to hoist him over your shoulder and, truth be told, it took you a moment to get your footing but you did. Smiling to Kyle's dumbfounded expression. A moment passed before you sighed, "He's looking at my ass, right?"

"An' it' looks great, bon."

"Okay," You sigh out, dropping the easily over two hundred-pound man and then look to Simon and Kyle, "Drinks on y'all?"

(Don't ask I don't even know)

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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago

Note

Joel fucks/fingers/dry humps/etc. reader under a blanket during movie night in Jackson. I don’t care what they do as long as Joel comes. I like thinking about Joel coming 😈

Movie night (in public)

850 | Joel x f!Reader

you're in luck, this has been on my mind. we can pick up after she gets him all horny before the movie in Jackson. masterlist

WARNINGS: 18+ HJ, sex, and cockwarming in public, mild dubcon, cum eating

--------------------------------------+++

You and Joel go home for a quickie before the outdoor movie night. He has you pinned on the couch with your hand down his pants when you hear a knock at the front door, then it unlocks. You scoot out from under Joel to sit upright while he buckles his belt and Tommy yells, "Y’all comin’?”

“Ehhh I dunno about tonight. This one’s tired,” Joel says and squeezes your knee affectionately. There’s a good reason he’s not standing up.

“Bring a blanket,” Tommy says. “Joel’s a good pillow, nice and soft.”

“Hey now,” Joel says. Tommy just stands there waiting. Joel sighs. “Alright, grab a blanket, let's go.”

You go get a quilt and a big blanket. When you come back down in a flowy dress, the look on Joel’s face says he knows exactly why. He goes to the bathroom before y'all leave and comes out without a belt.

You set up in the darkest corner of the lawn behind everyone else. Joel sits on the quilt wiith his knees bent and you get in between them, resting your head back on his chest with the blanket draped over both of you while people continue to arrive to the event. He wraps his arms around you, and scoots his hard-on into you. He gathers the skirt of your dress out of the way and strokes your inner thigh. When he reaches your outer lips he growls “bad girl” into your neck, although he's not surprised you skipped the panties. Two thick fingers drag along your dripping seam and his hardness swells into you.

He nibbles at your neck and his fingers circle your clit. He could get you off this way and no one would know, but what you really want is his cock. You want him to come in public. It turns you on so much to think about, and he’s never let you do it. It’s always him making you come while he stays totally composed and in control.

You reach back and wedge a hand between your bodies, palming him over his jeans. He breathes deeply and doesn’t stop you. You unbutton his jeans. Then you reach outside the blanket for his backpack and put it behind him like a pillow. “I’m tired, can I Iay on you?”

“Sure, baby.”

You get on your side in the crook of his arm with your head on his shoulder, your hand on his chest, and hook your leg over his closest leg. Then your hand drifts down under the blanket, unzips him, and reaches in to relieve his stiff, aching cock. "Tengo ganas," (I want it) you whisper as you stroke him. He clenches his jaw and looks conflicted.

"I don't think so, baby."

You slowly rotate yourself on top of him anyway. His hard cock is between his shirt and yours, below your belly button. "No one's watching," you whisper.

You move your dress and slowly get higher up on him, straddling him in a koala hug and you throb against him. He inhales sharply when his cock feels your dripping seam.

"Solamente la punta" (just the tip) you beg barely audibly as you drag yourself along his member.

"Kinda cold. Wanna sit still?"

You've done this before and know what he means. You can't pass up the chance to have him inside you.

You drag your wet pussy up his cock again then nestle it at your entrance. He lifts his hips into you and you begin to sink onto him, managing not to gasp at the delicious stretch. His big hands brace on your hips and help you down. He lifts his hips again, pulls you down, and you have to suppress a moan as he bottoms out.

He grunts ever so softly. "Don't move," he says.

You lie there with him inside you, resting your head in the crook of his neck, while he watches the movie. Your hips want to move, but you manage to stay still.

He occasionally twitches and barely moves his hips. You want to get him off and try to slide off him, but his hands still you and he says "where you goin'?" You stay.

When his twitching becomes more frequent, he finally lets you slide off his cock. You get back on your side, bring your leg over his, rest your head on his chest, and stroke him. You keep his cock as close to his body as possible to not make it obvious. It doesn't take long before he reaches down and lifts up his shirt. He takes a deep breath, then pulses in your hand. There's a barely audible grunt, but it's the quietest you've ever heard him.

He buries his mouth in the crown of your head as he finishes coming onto his lower belly and your fist, then his whole body relaxes. You lick his cum off your hand then use two fingers to gather as much of it as you can off his skin. You swallow that, too. He kisses you on the head and you actually do fall asleep as you watch the rest of the movie.

If you like this one I recommend Speakeasy and Picnic Table.

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#in public #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #horny!joel

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sagesolsticewrites · 10 months ago

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religion's in your lips, the altar is my hips

in which Steve takes care of you after a bad day

- including but not limited to: praise kink, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), Steve lowkey being a service dom 👀

(this is. very self-indulgent. very veryyyyyy self-indulgent. you have been warned <3)

a/n: huuuge shoutout to @upsidedownwithsteve's (aka Emmy, Queen of Smutty Sunday <3) most recent smutty Sunday event for giving me inspiration to write my very first smutty fic! Obligatory disclaimer that yes, this is my very first smut fic ever, I am an ✨asexual virgin✨ please manage expectations accordingly, yada yada yada. Also so many hugs to my bestie Kenz @fangirl-imagines for looking this over before I posted it ☺️ Kenzie has some incredible fics, go support her y'all!

Word count: 2870

Warnings: THIS IS SMUT. MINORS BEGONE. 🔞

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

You let yourself into your apartment with a sigh, shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit as you step over the threshold into your home and finally toe off your heels.

Bypassing the darkened kitchen and empty living room, you open the door to your bedroom, where you knew you’d find a shirtless Steve in the middle of his post-work ritual of playing some game on his computer.

He looks up as you enter, face brightening with a smile as he greets you.

“Hey baby, how was—”

In lieu of an answer, you flop face first onto the bed with a groan.

You can hear the smile fade from his voice as he hisses sympathetically, “That bad, huh?”

You lift your chin so it’s propped up on the pillow as you explain your terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.

“You know that project that Marie was working on? She asked me for help on it, and I gave her some pointers, but she said she still wasn’t really understanding it so I ended up having to do all of it for her. And she’ll probably take all the credit for it, too.” You grumble, rolling your eyes, “And we had that meeting with our new clients, and my boss basically volun-told me to take notes for it, even though that’s really the liason’s job, and then she criticized me for not taking as detailed notes as Lauren even though that’s literally Lauren’s job! And she was there, she could’ve taken the notes, I don’t even—”

You shake your head in exasperation, shifting topics, “And then I didn’t even have time for lunch because Sara wanted me to help train the interns, and…” You end your rant with a groan, letting your face drop back into the pillow. “‘M just. So tired.”

“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice turns soft as the pillow underneath your head, and he gets up from his spot at the desk to climb onto the bed, pulling you into his arms.

You curl into him instinctively, your head finding that space in the crook of his neck that feels like it was made for you personally, one hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, tracing patterns along the freckles and moles dotted along his skin.

“What can I do to help, honey?” Your boyfriend asks, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Jus’ wanna… I dunno, just. Stop.” You mumble against his shoulder, shrugging and curling further into him.

He hums in understanding, grabbing the hand that’s currently drawing invisible hearts around the moles near his collarbone and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“You’ve been doing so much for everyone today,” he murmurs, voice layered with understanding and adoration as he leans in and peppers tiny kisses over your forehead, your nose, your eyelids, and you relax even more as his voice washes over you, “Worked so hard.”

He pulls you closer, scattering kisses all over as you finally release all the tension you’ve been holding, letting out a sigh and shifting in his arms to face him. You don’t realize you’re straddling him until you’re pressed nearly flush against him, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

His lips brush over every part of your face, down to your neck and then back up as you become putty in his hands, murmuring soft words of praise to you the whole time.

“You just need to stop working now, huh? Need to stop thinking,” His lips draw a path to your ear, where he whispers, “need to let someone else do all the work, huh, baby?”

A shiver runs down your spine, constantly in awe of the power just his voice has over you. His hand settles on your hip, a comforting, grounding weight while his other hand brushes a strand of hair back from your forehead. His lips work their way back down over your cheek, stopping to hover just over yours, mouths brushing together as he murmurs in a voice like silk, “Is that what you want, honey? Want me to take care of you?”

Warm chocolate eyes meet yours, soft, caring, always ensuring he has your consent before he does anything.

At your near-imperceptible nod, he drags his hand up to cup your chin, thumb dragging along your bottom lip.

“Need your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you breathe, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to surge up and capture your lips with his.

As you brace yourself on his shoulders, his hands move to the thin strip of exposed skin where your shirt has ridden up. Your kisses become hungrier, ignoring your need for oxygen in favor of Steve’s plush, kiss-swollen lips, and he slowly drags up the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss briefly to get your permission.

At your eager nod, your shirt is off and tossed to some corner of the room, his mouth eagerly on yours once more.

You can feel exactly how much he’s enjoying this through his sweats, and you instinctively begin to rock in his lap, dragging your increasingly damp core over his.

His hands grip your hips, the familiar feeling sending a thrill through you… but rather than guiding your movements like he normally would, he holds them still.

You pull away, brow furrowed, but before you can voice your confusion, he flips you onto your back, moving to hover over you in one smooth movement.

“I told you,” he murmurs against your lips in a tone that sends a pulse of scorching heat to your core, “I’m doing all the work, sweetheart.”

The whimper you let out is muffled by his lips on yours once more, his wandering hands and hungry kisses making short work of turning you into a moaning, gasping mess.

“Steve,” you whine out his name as his lips travel down to your neck, and you can feel his smile against the hollow of your throat before he returns to licking and sucking dark patches into your skin, the occasional use of his teeth making delicious shivers shoot up your spine.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your skin, trailing his lips along your collarbone. His eyes meet yours, a mischievous twinkle mixed with the searing heat in them turning you molten as he asks, “What do you need?”

Unable to find the words, your hand finds his hair instead — God, that hair — and begins pushing him down towards where you really want him.

“‘M gettin’ there, honey, I promise,” he grins, pausing your efforts to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts, “Lemme take my time and I promise it’ll be worth it, ok?”

He reaches up to toy with the strap of your bra— a simple nude thing you could get away with wearing under a white shirt at work— a questioning look in his eyes answered by a furious nod from you.

He makes short work of the clasp, and that really should not be as hot as it is, but— oh who are you kidding, even his breathing is insanely hot right now.

You throw your head back as he presses kisses all over your chest, mumbling against your skin the whole time about how pretty you are, just gorgeous sweetheart, God, I can’t believe I get to do this for you…

Your head goes deliciously fuzzy with the praise, and you can’t quite form words so all you can do when he takes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it for good measure, is let out a keening “Ohhh” and instinctively tighten your grip on his hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve groans, the noise sending heat racing through your body, and you grin knowing you were the one to elicit it, “You sound fucking incredible.” He murmurs more praise as he turns his attention to your other nipple, giving it just as much attention and eliciting more gasps and moans and whines from you before he continues his journey south.

You lift your head and watch as Steve Harrington fucking beams when he reaches your stomach, your pouch poking out slightly more than you’d like over the waistband of your jeans.

He meets your eyes, his own swimming with sincerity as he begins to scatter kisses over your midsection.

“You”

Kiss

“Are”

Kiss

“Fucking”

Kiss

“Stunning”

Kiss

When it seems like he’s covered every single inch of your exposed skin in kisses, remaining stubbornly focused on your torso when what you really want is for him to be significantly lower, he meets your eyes as he plays with the waistband of your jeans, once again wordlessly asking your permission.

And once again, your furious nodding is all the consent he needs to peel your jeans off and toss them away.

“Sweetheart.” He breathes, wide eyes on where your jeans once were, “Honey. Baby. Are you trying to kill me?” He says in a strangled voice at the sight of your simple lacy panties in a deep, wine-purple color— a color Steve once drunkenly confessed was his favorite, though he told anyone who asked he preferred red.

You bite your lip in an attempt to contain your grin, “I thought you might like those.”

“Like them?” He murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh, looking up through lidded eyes to meet your gaze as his own darkens, “I never wanna see you in anything else again.”

Your toes curl, and your breaths become shallow in anticipation as he scatters slow kisses all along your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart, stopping when he gets to the edge of the purple lace.

He holds your gaze, gauging your reaction as instead of pulling them down over your hips to toss to yet another corner of the room, he simply…

Pulls.

The lace.

To the side.

You barely have time to let out a quiet, shaky, “Oh my God,” at the ravenous look on Steve’s face before his mouth is on you and you forget how to think, you forget how to breathe, you forget everything except Steve.

Let it be known: Steve Harrington knew how to eat a girl out.

He licks a thick, fat stripe up your center, gathering the moisture collected there before darting up to flick at your clit, an action that has you gripping the sheets like a lifeline, a stuttering moan that sounds vaguely like your boyfriend’s name escaping from your lips. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you close in an attempt to keep your hips grounded, and he continues a few more passes of the same lick, flick pattern until you’re a writhing mess underneath him, his current strategy both too much and not enough.

He pauses just long enough to meet your eyes, pressing a single kiss to your clit that sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, before diving in.

His tongue finds your entrance with ease, the way his nose pushes through the thatch of wiry hair to nudge at your clit providing extra stimulation as he makes short work of making you fall apart. His tongue swirls through your folds as he lets out a languid moan at your taste.

“So fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your core, “So perfect, lettin’ me take care of you. This is all you needed, huh?” His eyes flick up to meet yours as you shudder and moan underneath him, struggling to keep your eyes on him.

He licks another languid path through your folds, savoring your taste, before continuing, his voice muffled as he licks and sucks at your entrance “Jus’ needed me to give you a break, needed me to tell you it’s okay to turn off your brain and jus’—” Steve punctuates his last words by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently “—be a good girl for me.”

The combination of stimulation to your clit and Steve’s words has your hips arching off the bed, despite your boyfriend’s best efforts to keep you still. You can feel him grin against you and let out a dark chuckle at the moan you let out at his last words in particular, the way your hand tightens and pulls at his hair all the evidence he needs.

Still, he asks you, though he doesn’t quite expect a coherent response.

“Aw, sweetheart. You like it when I call you a good girl? You like bein’ a good girl for me?” He purrs in a voice like syrup, lips still brushing your folds.

“Fuck, I— yes, Stevie,” you whine brokenly, gently gripping his hair in an attempt to bring him closer to where you want him, whimpering softly, “Stevie please.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmurs, scattering kisses frustratingly just outside your core, “Jus’ trust me, I gotcha.”

You resist the urge to move, to just grab him and put him where you want him, even as you let out a frustrated whine.

Just as your patience is about to run out, you feel him smirk against you before diving back in, holding your legs apart as he sloppily licks and sucks at your entrance, his tongue diving deep inside you.

You let out a gasping moan as he attacks your core, practically clawing at his hair in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer, your brain going fuzzy and then melting entirely when you hear the endless praise falling from his lips as he eats you out.

“So good for me sweetheart, just perfect— shit, do you have any idea how good you taste?” He groans against you, his thumb coming up to gently circle your clit as his other hand moves to splay flat over your hips, holding you as still as he can, “Could do this all fuckin’ day, god you’re amazing sweetheart—”

Then he clamps his lips around your clit and moans, and you’re fairly certain you’re going to die of pleasure, both your hands flying to grip his hair and yank as your back arches off the bed, your head falling back against the pillows, mouth open to let out a high, keening moan.

When you come back to your body, Steve is back to gently licking through your folds, and your hands claw at him, needing him to be closer.

“Steve,” you whine, “Stevie please, ‘m so close, I jus’— I need— please, baby.”

As your words turn into incoherent moans and pleas, Steve is quick to assure you, thumb returning to playing with your clit as he mumbles against you, “I know, honey, I know what you need and ‘m gonna give it to you, I promise. Been so good for me today, taken such good care of everyone, now it’s your turn, ‘m gonna make you feel so, so fuckin’ good, baby—”

He dives into you once more, thumb rhythmically circling your clit as his tongue hits every spot inside you in a pattern that has you turning to liquid underneath him, your legs hooking together behind his back to keep him right there, and your vision goes white as Steve brings you towards your release.

You let out a cry as you hit your climax, and Steve dutifully guides you through your orgasm, murmuring soft praises the whole time.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs as he pulls away, mouth glistening and pupils dilated wide. Your hand cards through his soft brown waves, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Steve brushes gentle kisses to your inner thigh, your hipbone, your stomach, following a path up to capture your lips with his own, swallowing the contented sigh you let out.

He pulls away, meeting your gaze with a smile as he pecks your nose.

“Feelin’ better?”

You hum contentedly, “Much.” Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek as you pointedly glance down, “What about you?”

Steve lets out a mock-annoyed groan, forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“Baby, we just went over the whole thing about you not needing to take care of everyone.”

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze, “Seriously, though,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, rolling to lay next to you and pulling you into his chest, “I’m fine. This was about you, and I’m so glad I could help take care of you for once.”

You cup his cheek, turning his face to yours. You hope he can see every sincere, tender thought in your expression as you simply say, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. You know that.” He murmurs in response, lips quirking up into a small smile as he turns to press a quick kiss to your palm.

“So,” he says, fingers stroking through your hair, nudging your eyes closed, “nap time and then appetizer dinner? We’ve got mozzarella sticks and some chicken tenders I can throw in the oven.”

You grin, despite already being half-asleep, “That sounds perfect.”

You can feel his smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“I love you infinity.”

“I love you infinity plus one”

“I love you—”

“Alright, let’s call it a tie, babe.”

Tagging a couple friends! Hi besties @austin-butlers-gf @sassy-ahsoka-tano @dontbesussis

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #my writing #sage writes

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glitch-karma · 8 months ago

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Hii! Can you do Vanitas x sleepy reader? They’re kinda just sleep deprived all the time, hehe. Sorry if I’m bothering you, I hope you can do this request! <3

✧Me who started this at 2:35 am:

✧One shot

✧Cw: Gn!Reader, Fluff-ish, Reader is a vampire and Vanitas's assistant, reader struggles with insomnia, maybe ooc Vanitas, complicated relationship (still romantic-ish)

✧ probably not proof read

✧theres always crumbs for vnc so here y'all go

It was a slight chilly night as Vanitas sat on the roof of the Hotel Chouchou. The breeze of the night came through slowly, the wind flowing through his hair lightly. It was funny, how the city of Paris still looked almost alive at night. The soft glow of lights speckled the city.

Vanitas wore a dully melancholic expression as he stated at the city. It was eerily quiet as he numbly stared out.

The sound of soft foot steps approaching notified him someone was near, though he stayed perfectly still. "... It's late y'know?" He said, his face shifting to a light smirk as he looked behind him. There you stood, the eye bags under your eyes evident as you stared down at him, before turning to the city. "You're up too, non?"

He huffed as he looked away, placing his hand to his face. "This is why you're so exhausted all the time y'know?" He scolded you lightly. "It's fine." You nodded.

There was silence as you stood behind him quietly. Vanitas glanced behind him, noticing how you wore the same, dull expression he'd worn not so long ago. What could you be thinking about? Sometimes it was hard to remember that you were also a broken person such as himself. Honestly, he'd rather not think about it.

You let out a light yawn as you finally sat down beside him. Vanitas chuckled at your drowsiness as he looked back out to the city again. You sat there for a long while, just the two of you and the sounds of the dead Paris Streets.

Vanitas could feel you shiver beside him lightly as he sighed. "Why are you out here anyways? You're obviously exhausted." He said annoyed. "I'm always like this." You shook your head. He scoffed out a chuckle as he nodded. "Well duh, stating the obvious."

The eeiry silence once again enraptured the two of you. Vanitas mentally scolded himself as his thoughts couldn't be cleared of you. Your presence beside him somehow managed to break through the barriers he'd carefully constructed. It was exhausting, the way his mind couldn't ever stop thinking about you.

"I don't get it," he muttered, a hint of frustration tainting his words. "Why do you push yourself so hard, running on empty all the time?" His gaze shifted to you, attempting to decipher your expression.

You shrugged with an indifferent expression. "Dunno.." at this Vanitas stared at you more. Your gaze met his, and for a moment, something softened in his eyes. Uncomfortable with the vulnerability, he turned his attention back to the city lights.

"I guess I've been like this for awhile." You mumbled out. Vanitas glanced up at you again. "Sleep just doesn't really come that easily, even if it's all I crave. You know, you're not the only one with demons," you said softly, your gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "We all carry our burdens, Vanitas."

He scoffed, his wall being built within him once more. "I don't need your pity." "It's not pity," your tone was gentle. "It's understanding."

For a moment, Vanitas looked away, not wanting to listen. Then, with a sigh that carried the weight of unspoken emotions, he spoke. "Understanding won't change anything."

"Maybe. But I can hope it helps ease it.. Just being there. Even in the silence of the night." You finished.

Your words hung in the air as another silence engulfed the both of you. Vanitas found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

As Vanitas tried to regain his composure, he stole another glance at you. There was a softness in your worn out eyes that echoed the vulnerability he often tried to bury. It was a vulnerability he couldn't quite comprehend.

Vanitas sighed as he looked away again. "You talk too much." He huffed out. You merely shrugged, a small but genuine smile playing on your lips. "It's a talent, I suppose."

He let out a scoff, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps a hint of gratitude. After a few moments, another yawn escaped your lips. You glanced up at him slightly. "It's weird.. you're one of the most unbearable, scary people I've ever met." "Okay, ouch." He commented, letting you continue.

Your eyes closed for a second before opening again in defiance, "But I feel the most relaxed when I'm with you." You finished.

The contradiction between tonight's conversations and the usual banter between you two left him momentarily speechless. His attempt to mask his surprise with a scoff was futile as he grew embarrassed.

"You're delusional if you think I'm someone you should find relaxing," he retorted. Yet, the subtle tint of pink on his cheeks portrayed the effect of your words. "Probably." You mumbled out, slowly blinking.

Your yawns persisted, and a drowsy smile lingered on your lips as you observed Vanitas's futile attempts to deflect your words. "You're just spouting nonsense because you're half-asleep." He shifted away from you. "Sure, that's what I'm doing."

The silence made him glance up again, noticing you staring into the city lights, closing and reopening your eyes every few seconds. He couldn't help but stare at you for a bit, before jerking his head back to the city himself.

"You should.. Let yourself sleep." He mumbled out. You looked over with slightly surprised eyes, before your face slowly softened. "..thanks, Vanitas."

"yeah, yeah whatever.." he embarrassedly mumbled, looking away from you. You chuckled, continuing to stare at the beautiful pairs sky together.

#vanitas no carte x reader #vanitas x reader #the case study of vanitas #the case study of vanitas x reader #vnc x reader #vnc Vanitas x reader #glitchs✧works

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luvfy0dor · 1 year ago

Note

Hi there! First of all I wanna say that I like your writing very much and that you're doing a good job! Thanks you for your hard work!

My requets/scenario is something about the reader (GN or fem.) who is sick/ feverish and due to that dehydrated and refused to take her meds. So the BSD boys (already fed up with your whining about feeling sick and annoyed and they just want to help you feel better blahblahblah...) take the pills and water into their owb mouth and kisstge reader to maje them take their pills. And maybe romantic feelings are already in the air yet no one had the balls to say something yet? And afterwards saying something like "Swallow" or "Come on, be good" to make th reader swallow?

If possible with Chuuya, PM Dazai ( i don't think one can piss ADA Dazai off SO much he'd act like this XD) and with someone else you could think of or like to write for.

Thank youuuu!

"C'mon, be good..." BSD x GN!Reader

╰┈➤ PM!Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor ༉‧₊˚✧

Description; PM/Beast!Dazai, Chuuya, and Fyodor with sick reader who just absolutely refuses to take meds.

Warnings; Maybe ooc in Dazais part? I've only read vol.1 of beast : (, cursing

A/N; I started writing this yesterday morning and I just got sick today (update it was just allergies it went away after a couple hours) what a coincidence!? Also tyssm for the compliment!! Ahh it means the world to me when y'all like my stuff!! ♡

Chuuya Nakahara ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chuuya is a busy man, and when you refuse to take your pills, you're only wasting the time that he sets aside for you by being difficult. He's gonna take care of you, and you're gonna like it too. (Who wouldn't?)

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"C'mon, I'm not gonna sit here and listen to your whining. It's just a pill, put it in your mouth and swallow it!" Chuuya exasperatedly says, flailing his arms as he talks. The bottle of pills makes a rattling sound in his hands as they move around. You just scoff, keeping your arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Maybe, but it feels so weird going down my throat and I don't like it!" You say, your voice groggy and your nose sniffly from your cold. Your eyes were half lidded as you frowned at Chuuya. "Oh, and you like being sniffly 'nd having a headache?" He says with a roll of the eyes, putting his hands on his hips.

You thought for a moment. No, ofcourse you didn't like this feeling, but you also really didn't like taking pills. Chuuya had even tried offering the liquid medicine, but you didn't want that either because the kind he had for you tasted bad. You slumped back into the couch you were sitting on, huddling the blanket up to your chest.

You sigh before shaking your head. "No, I don't." Chuuya nods. "So take the pills, here." He hands you water and the pills themselves. You stared them down for a moment. They looked utterly massive in your palm and you could already feel the fish oil-y substance sliding down your throat. You gagged, bringing your hand up to your mouth. You groan.

"For God's sake, are ya gonna take it or not?" He mumbles. "You know I don't wanna sit here and waste time arguing with your stupid ass." He says, pinching the bridge of his nose. You smiled, knowing he really didn't mean it. "Oh, or what? What if I don't take it?" Chuuya props his head up on his fist while glaring at you.

"Or else I'm gonna shove it down your throat and make you swallow it." He sighs, hearing you snicker a little. "Great wording, Chuuya. Well then, hurry up, I'm waiting." You raise your eyebrows playfully. He rubs his face with his hands exasperatedly. "You know I'm not being serious." He murmurs.

"Aw, why not?" You tilt your head teasingly. "Why do you want me to?" You averted your eyes, not having an answer. You shrugged.

"Dunno, it's just...a very you thing to do, so I'm just wondering what discouraged you." He sits up.

"Well, because you're my..." He thinks for a moment. "Really close friend, and I care about you 'nd stuff..." He says, very faintly blushing while averting his eyes. Had you not been around Chuuya so much, it would have gone completely unnoticed, but unfortunately for him, you had seen. And boy, were you gonna let him know.

"Aww, so you DO care! And here I thought you were just....angry." You tease. He scoffs. "C'mon, you're the very first to know that my temper isn't my only personality trait." He gets up from his seat, grabbing the pill and holding it up to your lips with one hand, water in the other. "Take it. Now." He says, looking into your eyes as he's bent down to your level while you lean back into the couch cushions.

"Chuuya, I told you I don't want to." He pushes the pill against your lips some more. "You clearly do, all day you've bitched and moaned about your headache, your temperature, your runny nose, and your sore throat. I'm done hearin' about it!" He glares at you. "C'mon and just take it, it'll be over before you know it."

You shake your head and turn it away from Chuuya, bringing the blanket up to guard your lips. He sighs, so fed up. You watch Chuuya take the pill into his own mouth, filling it with water before he roughly grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours. You're shocked, both by Chuuyas bold action, but also by the feeling of the pill in your mouth, slowly snaking down your throat as he pulls away.

"Ya swallowed it, right?" His face is a little softer now, but still seeming a little agitated. You nod. "Open up 'nd show me." You hesitate for a minute before opening your mouth. He inspects for a second before nodding. "Alright...Jesus, that was so hard for no reason." He runs his fingers through his hair, fanning himself with his hat. "It's so hot in here too...s'not just me, right? Why're you being so quiet?" He says, looking over at you as he pants a bit, his heart beating loudly in his chest. You just stare at him, a bit awestruck.

"Chuuya." Your fingers go up to softly brush over your lips. "You..just kissed me. What do you mean 'why're you so quiet'?" You say with a soft laugh, mocking his voice at the end of your sentence. His eyes widen, as if he were completely unaware of his actions. Instead of blushing or trying to excuse himself, all he did was shrug. "Well, I mean I know you're in love with me, it's real easy to see." He says, a grin creeping onto his face, making you blush.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.." you laugh. Chuuya seemed pensive for a second, examining you while standing on the other side of the small room.

PM/Beast!Dazai Osamu ੈ✩‧₊˚

PM!Dazai is absolutely going to get this pill into your system, even if he has to shove it up your ass. Brotha is determined, and he's not gonna give up, so kissing you to get it down your throat was absolutely not off the table. As a matter of fact, it was probably one of his first choices...

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You hoist yourself up onto Dazais desk, shifting around and making yourself comfortable. The soft glow of the lamp illuminating the room, allowing you to observe smaller details, such as the marbled pattern in the floor tiles. After a few seconds, you hear the door open, the sound echoing in the relatively open space.

The fabric of your best friends black coat swayed behind him while he walked. You watched him approach the desk, a faint smile on his face. "Here, I brought you meds and water." He says, setting the pill bottles down on the hard wood surface. He notices the grimace on your face as you pick up the bottle and observe it. "Don't worry, they're the correct ones. I'm not trying to kill you." He says with a playful eyeroll.

You shake your head. "No, you're right, they're correct I just...ew, they're so...big." Dazai watches your facial expressions change intently as you study the pills. He sighs softly. "You'll live, these are prescribed to help people, not kill them. They'll go right down your throat, I promise." He says, sitting in one of his chairs, crossing one leg over the other.

"Well yeah but..." You say, sniffling. "There's nothing smaller...?" Dazai shakes his head. "Nope, that's all we got, so either take it or don't." He shrugs a little. You just give him a small glare. "If you chose not to take them, I don't wanna hear a single complaint from that big mouth you've got." Your friend says, twirling his finger a little as he passive aggressively points at you.

You just sigh and sip on the water her brought you. "Hey, that's supposed to be for taking that medicine." He says, his furrowed eyebrows really displaying his expression of annoyance. You continue sipping on the water until it's gone and completely empty. You can almost see steam coming out of his ears after that. He quickly gets up, walking over to the desk, and snatching the glass from the surface, angrily marching out.

You knew he'd be back, he has never angrily marched away from you for long. You just assumed he did it for dramatic effect at this point. A couple moments later, the doors swing open and Dazai walks in, his pace a little less aggressive but certainly faster. After closing the door, he walks up to you, shaking the pills out of the bottle until one was in his hands. He put the pill on his tongue before filling his mouth with water and roughly grabbing the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss.

You were caught FAR off guard. You had an inkling of a feeling that your feelings for your best friend were requited and not one sided as you previously thought, but now you were reassured. You leaned into the kiss, not even caring about the pill that was currently in your mouth. Dazai tilts your head back right before pulling away. "Swallow, got it?" He says firmly, his hand still placed on the back of your head. You nod right before swallowing the pill, suppressing a cough afterwards.

You deeply inhaled and exhaled seemingly desperately, almost gasping for air, considering your relatively sniffly nose. Once you caught your breath, the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls as you speak. "Good going, dumbass, now you're gonna get sick too..." You sniffle some more while blushing at the memory of Dazais action.

He just laughs for a moment, then shrugs. "Well, if I get sick I won't be a brat to you and refuse to take my pills, especially if you so kindly go out of your way to get them for me." You just scoff and roll your eyes. "Oh yeah, so far out of your way, fifty feet down the hallway is an utter journey, I'm sure." You reply back snarkily.

"Oh, it was." He says exaggeratedly. You just laugh a bit under your breath, examining the pill bottle again. "They better be miracle pills and cure you immediately after the struggle I put up to get them down your throat." He says, staring at you. "Well at least I know you care 'bout my safety." You give him a small smile, to which he reciprocates.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ੈ✩‧₊˚

Fyodor has so kindly offered to take care of you in your vulnerable moment of need, and he hoped you would be appreciative of that, but your unwillingness to take your pills does not really reassure his hope.

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Sniffles. Sniffles were all the filled the room the two of you sat in, you curled up in a blanket and Fyodor reading a book on a couch on the other side of the room. Most of the time, he had kept his distance from you because of your insistence on keeping him in good health. "Ugh, this is so annoying." You whined, rolling around in your blanket, your body language displaying just how fed up with this whole cold you were. You can hear a sigh from Fyodor, as will as the sound of his book closing.

"Well, y/n, I offered you pills and you have continuously refused to take them." He says, his face blank as he crosses his legs and rests his book on his lap. You just let out a soft whine. "Well yeah but....those pills are nasty, they're so big, I'll throw up before I can even try to feel better." You mumble, exasperatedly rubbing your face, pulling a bit at your skin. You can feel Fyodor staring at you from afar.

"Then I suppose you're not going to feel better as quickly as you potentially could." He replies, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and re-opening his book. "Well yeah, but like...well, in my defense you weren't very forceful about it." You say, trying to justify your actions. His attention turns back to you again.

"Oh, did you want me to be? I figured I wouldn't be forceful or push it onto you because you're very close to me." He says, almost as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your heart couldn't help but flutter the tiniest but, a small smile coming over your face. "Well, I'm definitely gonna be more likely to take them if you're a little more insistent." You mumble a bit, to which he sighs, setting his book down once more and grabbing the pill bottle. He makes his way back over to you, holding the pill up to your mouth.

"Go on." He says, waiting for you to take the pill into your mouth, but you just grimace at it. "Okay, maybe I'm just not gonna take them.." you say, gagging at the idea. Fyodor just shakes his head. "You have to. As much as I don't want to force you to, I want you to feel better and stop complaining." He says softly. His face matches his words, not a single sharp edge or expression to either. He was gentle. You groan at the pill some more, earning yet another sigh from him.

"Okay." He shakes his head before placing the pill on his tongue and taking some of the water into his mouth. "Hey, what're you-" you're cut off by Fyodor softly pulling you into a kiss, passing the water and pill from his mouth to yours. After it's completely in your mouth, he pulls away but tilts your head back by guiding your chin upwards with his pointer finger. "Swallow." He mutters, watching your flustered facial expressions. You swallow the pill and water with a 'gulp' and stutter over your words a bit before you can get them completely out.

"That was really your method of choice?" You mutter, hiding your blushing face with your the back of your hand. He raises an eyebrow. "Is that not what you wanted me to do?" You rapidly shake your head. "No, no! I just...I don't even know, thank you...for helping me take my pills..and kissing me, 'nd stuff..." You mumble, a bit embarrassed but so giddy at the same time. He just smiles a bit and rubs your back gently.

"You're welcome. You're an open book for the most part, y/n. Very easy to read." He says softly, before reclaiming his seat on the couch. "Now, I don't want to raise my chances of myself getting sick, or else I would sit with you." He says, grabbing his book again. "Yeah, alright...fair." you mutter, still a little excited over the whole thing. You giggle a bit to yourself and he hears it, he can't help but smile ever so slightly in amusement.

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