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rafesfawn · 3 months ago

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🪽🧺 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋

𝜗ৎ⋆｡˚ when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...

or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!

warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!

a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)

this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3

a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.

she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.

sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.

rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.

letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.

"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.

your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.

a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.

you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.

the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.

you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.

he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.

you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.

"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.

still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.

"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.

a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.

just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.

"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.

you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.

"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.

looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.

you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.

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ghouljams · 10 days ago

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(cw flexible!ballerina!reader, minor foot fetish, Ghost's down bad)

It's easy to find himself in the mirrored studio. Big man in a little chair, the only one quiet enough to hear the soft piano under the whispered chatter of the moms on either side of him. It's just enough for him to hear the little padded feat that prance along behind you as you have them cross the floor in little pas de bourees and short hopping leaps. You clap your hands with the music, smiling and waving your hands to try and coax the shier girls forwards. You in your loose pants and fitted shirt that if Ghost could see the bottom of he'd swear must be a leotard. God he wants to see the bottom of it, wants to see the cut of your legs through the fabric, smell the sweat of your skin and lick along the seams.

Instead he waves silently at his little girl when she grins at him and returns the gesture with a much more enthusiastic flap of her hand. It's enough to make you step forward --and God just watching you walk is like an art, your feet stepping toe-heel in a gentle rolling motion that seems to leap across the polished wood like rubber balls, weightless-- and gently turn the little girl's attention back to class. It's a mistake that you bend at the waist to redirect his girl to the lesson, must be. Waving your ass for him like a cat in heat, he wonders how flexible you are, how far he could bend you in half before you cried uncle.

You settle on the floor to lead the girls through some mid-class stretching, and the way you sweep your legs out to either side of you and press your chest to the floor makes Ghost's head spin. The muscles in your legs flex, your knees turned out, and your feet pointed. If his girl is doing the same he doesn't notice. His eyes follow the length of you, checking the edge on the blade that's pressed itself to his throat and stop at the pink slippers on your feet.

The straps the crisscross the top of your foot dig pleasantly into your bare foot, and your foot curves beautifully into a perfect arch. He's never seen anything like it, subconsciously he tries to curl his toes to match and feels his eye twitch at the ache of his work boots interference. He wants to slip off the slipper and see how you do it, hold your foot in his hand and trace the lines of your arch with his tongue. If he could just kiss the knob of your ankle maybe he could drag his lips higher. The bend of your knee, the flex of your adductors, the swell of your-

He clears his throat and crosses his ankle over his knee, adjusting for the growing hardness between his legs. The stiff starch of his work pants only does so much to cover it.

The little feet start pattering across the floor, ballet slippers softening the noise even as the mirrors covering the walls echo it through the space. One of the moms to his side asks him a question and he grunts in response, eyes trained on the soft sweeping roll of your feet as you rise up into releve.

He wonders how far he'd have to bend you to make sure his come hit your face when he was done fucking his cock between those perfect arches.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #f!reader #still thinking about them #ghost as a blue collar brute and his perfect music box doll #pretty spinning top for him to wind up until it breaks

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cameronsprincess · 14 days ago

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you ever think about getting slapped around by rafe when he’s pissed and wants to fuck his anger out on you, mocked and laughed at when you start crying, then slapped around again when your crying starts to piss him off again 🤧

I LOVE WHEN A MAN SLAPS YA AROUND (i promise i’m okay.. maybe…)

CW: smut! 18+ only! mean!rafe, degrading, slapping, unprotected piv sex.

masterlists.

“Goddamnit!”

The sound of Rafe shouting as he storms through the front door, slamming it shut behind him has you startling awake. You sit up in your shared bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you listen to his heavy footsteps stomping up the stairs.

You’re not sure what was wrong, but you knew you were about to find out.

Rafe storms into your bedroom, slamming the door behind him, his chest heaving as he breathes heavily, nostrils flaring and his fists clenching by his sides. You quickly shove the comforter off your body, crawling to the end of the bed, your eyes softening as you watch him pace the room.

“Rafe.. What’s wrong, baby?” you ask him softly, not wanting to upset him any further, but needing to know what you can do to help.

Rafe stops his pacing, his gaze fixed on you now. His blue eyes are burning with anger, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but it doesn’t work.

He steps towards the bed, reaching you in seconds. His large hand reaches out, gripping the back of your hair so hard you let out a small scream. He yanks your head back, forcing your eyes on his.

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” He asks.

Your brow furrows, confused on why he’s asking you this. Of course you don’t think he’s stupid. He’s probably one of the smartest people you know, though, he won’t always show it.

“N-no… Why.. Why are you asking me this?”

He snarls. “Because my bitch of a stepmother thinks I am. She thinks that I don’t know what my dad left behind for me,” He pauses, breathing in deep through his nose before letting it out slowly through his mouth. “She thinks.. She thinks she’s gonna keep all his fucking money? She thinks, that I— That I’m a fucking idiot and didn’t have his will pulled up when I found out he was fucking dead?”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You knew Rafe had been doing his research on what his dad did and didn’t leave him since he got the call that Ward had died… It’s been tough on him, but he’s been handling it as well as he could. But now with Rose trying to pull a fast one on him… You knew things weren’t going to be easy around here until he got what was his.

Slowly, he releases your hair, squeezing his eyes shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, head hung low. You slowly lift up onto your knees, hesitantly reaching out and pressing a hand into his chest. Rafe’s eyes pop open, staring blankly at your hand on him.

“What can I do? How can I make you feel better right now?”

His eyes darken— more than they already were — and you swallow thickly. Rafe presses a hand onto your forehead, pushing you back onto the mattress before he’s toeing off his shoes and climbing into the bed on top of you, the weight of his body pressing into yours.

“You wanna know how you can help me, princess?” he breathes out, his right hand already possessively gripping your hip.

You nod your head slowly. “Yeah.. Anything. Whatever you need, baby.”

He chuckles, a dark smile taking over his face.

“Mmm.. Careful what you say baby. I might just think you’re serious.”

You open your mouth to respond, but Rafe dips his head down, smashing his lips with yours in a heated, angry kiss. Your hands fly around his neck, pulling him further into you, your tongue flicking against his bottom lip. Rafe groans, slipping his tongue into your mouth as his hands slide up your sides. He toys with the hem of your tank top, sliding it slowly up your body, breaking his lips from yours so he can shove it over your head and toss it to the floor.

Your bare breasts smash against Rafe’s t-shirt covered chest, the fabric of his shirt brushing against your nipples has them hardening instantly, a low moan escaping you. Rafe kisses at your lips softly, trailing kisses down your jaw and to your neck. You yelp when his teeth nip gently at your skin, his hands now tugging at your silk sleep shorts. He slowly tugs them down your legs, letting them pool at your ankles and you kick them off.

Rafe pushes up on the mattress, his fingers making quick work of his belt, then moving to pop the button of his jeans before sliding the zipper down. He harshly tugs them down his legs, his boxers going with them. Your eyes flit down, staring at his long, thick cock bobbing in the air. Rafe’s right hand reaches up, smacking you across the face, the impact knocking your head to the side.

Tears fill your eyes, but you quickly blink them down. Rafe was always aggressive when he was in a bad mood, and you didn’t mind it, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt sometimes.

“You gonna fuckin’ cry this time, or are you gonna take it like I know you can?”

You sniffle, letting your eyes meet his again. “G-Gonna take it.. Promise, it’s okay. Take it out on me, baby.”

Rafe chuckles darkly, his hand harshly smacking at your cheek again. You squeal from the impact, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“What I thought, you love when I’m fucking rough on you, but you can’t help but fuckin’ cry every time.”

You lift your hand, quickly wiping away the tear you’d let fall before finding Rafe’s eyes again. He smirks at you, a dark expression on his face as he grips his thick cock in his hand, slowly running his tip through your slick folds.

“So fuckin’ wet already. God, you’re such a pathetic little thing aren’t you? Soakin’ yourself because I slapped your pretty little face twice.”

Your lips part, opening to respond but the words die, a gasp escaping you instead when Rafe shoves himself inside you. His cock stretches you, splitting you in two. He slowly pulls out to the tip, his hand coming up to cup your face before he’s smacking you again, his hips thrusting forward at the same time.

He quickly sets a rough and fast pace, his hips slamming against yours as he brutally fucks himself into you. He continues to slap at your face with each thrust, every slap followed by a degrading remark.

“You fuckin’ cryin’ again?” Slap. “God you’re such a fuckin’ crybaby, can’t even fuckin’ take my dick,” Slap. “Or a slap.” Thrust. “Stop.” Slap. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Crying!” Slap.

Tears are falling uncontrollably down your face now, but your pleasure outweighs the pain you feel in your cheeks and the pain Rafe’s brutal thrusts are causing.

“‘M s-sorry… It hu-rts…” you choke out.

“I-It h-hurts,” Rafe mocks, his cock slowly dragging out of your soaked pussy. He pulls out to the tip, slamming forward and pulling a small whine from you. “You gotta learn to toughen up, princess.” He says, slowly pulling out again before he’s roughly thrusting back in.

His hand slaps at your face again, your cheek now stinging from how hard and how many times he’s slapped you. You try and swallow down the sob wanting to escape you, but his hand making contact with your red and raw cheek has you letting the sob escape. He rolls his eyes, pulling out of you before gripping your hips and flipping you onto your stomach. His hands slip under your hips, lifting your ass into the air. He slams himself inside you again, brutally fucking into you as he continues his assault on your ass.

His free hand reaches out, gripping the back of your head and pressing your face into the mattress, muffling your sobs and whines. “So fuckin’ annoying,” he says, a hint of irritation in his tone. He slaps harshly at your ass again, the sting combined by his brutal thrusts has your pussy clamping down around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he groans from the feeling. “Stop fuckin’ crying! You wanna be fuckin’ good f’me? Make me feel better? Then cum on my cock, and dry your goddamn tears.”

You whimper, your pussy clenching uncontrollably around him as he continues to pound into you. You fist the sheets below you, your toes curling when the tip of his cock hits at that sweet spot inside you. Rafe slaps at your ass three more times, his cock pulsing inside you when you squeeze around him again, your body shaking as you come undone around him.

“Fffffuck, that’s it, princess.” Rafe groans.

His dick twitches inside you, his hips shoving forward one final time before he’s swelling and coming deep inside you in long, slow spurts. Rafe gently rubs at the fat of your ass, soothing the welted handprints he’d left behind. Your body falls limp on the mattress, his hand releasing the back of your head as he falls down on top of you.

Your quiet sniffles fill the room, pulling at Rafe’s chest slightly. He knows you don’t mind him fucking his anger out on you, and you don’t mind when he slaps you around a little, but once it’s all said and done, and the highs are over, he can’t help but feel bad about it. He slowly pulls out of you, rolling to his side and pulling you tightly into his arms, kissing the top of your head. Your big, puffy and teary eyes meet his. He smiles at you, a soft, loving smile as he cups your face, leaning in to kiss your lips softly.

“Hey.. ‘M sorry, baby. ‘M sorry, I love you.”

You smile, burying yourself in his chest as you breathe in his scent. “It’s okay… As long as you feel better,” You pause, kissing his chest. “Let’s nap, and then when we wake up, we’ll work on how we’re going to get you what you’re owed. Rose won’t fuck you over, baby. I promise.”

tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @nemesyaaa @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @rafesangelita @sarahsangelicdoll @rafescvntyclubgf @hauntedfawnn @dementedkittenribbon @rafesbabygirlx

#*ೃ༄ my works #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fic #mean!rafe #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe x you #rafe fic

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writersdrug · 10 months ago

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Training for Two

Chapter 4. New Tricks

Masterlist

Summary: You teach Riley a new trick, and Johnny gets a glimpse at what's had Simon on edge.

Warnings: cursing, obsessive behavior, slight humiliation

"You need to stay still." You said quietly, your hands gently laying on Riley's stomach as she lay on her back. Her eyes flickered between you and your hands curiously with a nervous look on her face. Her tail swished, brushing with a whoosh against the unkempt grass of Simon's backyard.

"Good- play dead, good..." You slowly removed your hands, placing them against your thighs as you knelt next to her. "And stay-"

As soon as your hands left her fur, she twisted back onto her feet and sat upright. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she panted, looking at you for the next command.

"No!" You cried, holding the sides of her face and pointing her snout towards you. "You just had it! C'mon, we've got to get this down - need to show off your skills at the dog park, yeah?"

You flopped down on your back and raised your arms in the air. Riley took a few steps back and stared at you - her toe was pointed in anticipation. She had no idea what you were doing.

"Like this-" you said, "Play dead." You rolled back onto your knees, giggling at the flabbergasted expression on her face. "Really- it's easy, let's give it one more go."

You guided her to lay down again - she huffed, seemingly annoyed with whatever it was you were trying to do. She let you roll her onto her back, her legs awkwardly sticking out straight. You tutted and bent her paws at each ankle.

"Good. Sta- stay." You said as she tried to wiggle up. You kept your hands on her belly again, and she boredly looked at the blue sky above.

"Good, Riley. Play dead." You slowly sat back on your haunches, and she managed to stay put. She looked at you upside-down as you fished a few treats from your pocket.

"Stay..." You cooed, holding the treats up to her muzzle. "Good. Play dead."

She gently lapped up the treats when you opened your palm, chewing noisily and looking back at you for direction. She remained on the ground, feet pointed in the air and her tail still.

"Ok, Riley." You said, and she scrambled back onto her feet. "Now, let's try again. Play dead."

She looked at you, tilting her head in confusion. You could see the gears turning, and your skin was nearly on fire with anticipation. "Play dead." You repeated slowly, pointing towards the ground.

Sure enough, she sank to the floor. When she saw the excitement growing in your eyes, she rolled onto her back, letting her legs relax above her.

"Good girl!!" You squealed, rubbing her belly and her face and showering her with kisses - she groaned and yapped, hurriedly getting back up onto her feet.

"Oh, you're so good, Riley!" You exclaimed and handed her a few more treats. She scarfed them down in a matter of seconds as her tail thwapped against the ground.

You felt proud of her - and of yourself. You'd never really considered yourself an actual dog-sitter before. But now, after this achievement, you felt like the dog-sitter.

"Mitchell had better watch his sorry ass..." You stated, standing up and brushing your hands on your thighs. You paused when you felt something cold - you turned to look over your shoulder, and sure enough, your entire back and rump were covered in mud. You sighed, looking back down at where you had laid in the grass. There was a decently sized mud puddle, with the perfect imprint of your torso and backside.

"Oh, for Christ's sake-" you grumbled, trudging back towards the house. Riley hopped through the doorway and made a beeline straight to her water bowl. She lapped up the water messily as you toed off your sneakers, leaving them by the backdoor. You closed the door behind you and groaned as the damp fabric clung to your skin.

"Just my bloody luck." You murmured. You began peeling your clothes off in the hall, starting with your socks, then your sweatshirt, then your top. You were just about to shimmy out of your jeans, when you heard Riley whine.

Turning around, you saw her walking- no, limping, to her dog bed. She groaned as she shuffled around, scratching at the fabric, before plopping down onto the plush cushion.

"Y' feeling alright, girl?" You asked, and she turned her snout towards you. "Time for some medicine, hmm?"

You padded into the kitchen, grabbing her medicine from the counter and popping a pill into your palm. You stole a jar of peanut butter from Simon's cupboard and scooped a spoonful, shoving the pill into the sticky glob and heading back to the living room. "Don't worry-" you said, holding the spoon down to her as she licked it greedily. "I won't count this as one of your daily cookies."

You felt a chill against your bare back - you looked up, noticing that the AC vent was positioned right above Riley's bed.

"Well, that can't be good..." You grumbled. You quickly ran and snagged a worn-out blanket (decorated with bones and tennis balls, most likely from when she was a puppy) from the hall closet, before returning and draping it over her. She let out a wary groan as you tucked in the edges, cocooning her in a layer of felt.

"Need t' make sure you're not too chilly-" you said, securing her under the blanket. "That cold doesn't help your leg, does it?"

She made a content sound and sank her head down onto the cushion, making you chuckle. "There, isn't that much be-"

You stood back up, your sentence interrupted by your own panic. The mailman was outside the front window, staring right back at you. He was frozen, eyes wide with a shocked flush on his cheeks, as he was putting the mail in Simon's box.

In a fit of horror, you glanced down at yourself, being met with the sight of your shirtless torso and jeans. You shrieked in embarrassment and ran into the hall, quickly throwing yourself into the bathroom and slamming the door behind you.

Riley tilted her head as she watched down the hall, the sound of your "Fucking hell!!" Echoing from beyond the bathroom door - she flopped hear head back onto the cushion and sighed.

The cot groaned and creaked beneath Simon as he dropped himself onto it. He tossed his duffle bag on the floor next to him, letting his arm hang over the edge for a moment. His entire body ached - he had let himself relax too much on his time off with Riley, and had nearly forgotten just how rough this job was on his bones.

"Never thought we'd be back 'ere, eh?" Soap said, trudging into the small dorm. "Alejandro said we're always welcome on 'is base, but I ken he meant other circumstances."

Simon groaned in agreement. "Brings back memories, eh?"

Soap scoffed. "If ye say so, LT. Rott'n ones, that's fer sure."

"A' least it's over."

Soap grunted. "Gonna celebrate with a cup o' joe." He said, rolling out his shoulders with a pop. "Need me t' grab ye some?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. Like to try n' get some sleep 'fore we head home."

"Suit yourself, LT." Soap said, before he left Simon alone in the dorm.

He sighed heavily. Simon was lying to himself if he thought he was going to get any sleep. During the entire mission (save the parts where he was snapping a bloke's neck, or planting bullets in bodies), he couldn't stop thinking about Riley - which was also a lie. Truthfully, he couldn't stop thinking of the both of you.

Were you treating her well? Did you end up using his shower? Did you remember her medicine? Did you use the throw blanket when you slept on his sofa? What did you two do all week? What did you do all week?

It was hard to realize that he'd only seen you in person twice, with the way that he was constantly plagued by you. You and your overly-bright and bold personality. He wondered if you'd be there when he gets back home, or if you'd-

Oh, right. He'd be home tomorrow night. He'd forgotten to text you. He quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed up a message.

coming home tomorrow evening. it'll be late. don't worry about being there, but if you are, that's fine.

He hoped you would be there, he thought, as he sent the message, letting the phone drop onto his chest.

Not a minute had passed that Simon had fought with his own mind, when his phone buzzed. He pulled the screen back above his face and opened the message from you.

Glad to hear you're back safe!

Buzz

If you are actually back, I guess I don't know where you are...

Buzz

Anyways, that's fine! I'll walk Riley around 7 pm, she's good after that until bedtime

Buzz

Of course, you know that, she's YOUR dog after all, lol

Buzz

Get back safe! And I mean get HOME, not just wherever you are right now!

He stared at each message as it popped up, one after another. You must type fast - and god, were you annoying... but he didn't hate it. He should hate it, he'd hated every other person he'd run into with your attitude. But he felt the depth and the honesty in your words, even over text. It was aggravating him, but instead of stomping your sparks out, he wanted to hide them in his dark corner, where no one else could see just how bright you were.

Shut the fuck up, he thought. Man whore.

He began to reply to your message, thick fingers struggling to tap away at the tiny screen.

How are my girls?

Fuck- backspace, backspace- Christ, that was a close one.

How's my girl?

Send.

He groaned, staring at the screen, hungrily waiting for you to respond. He thought of the sound of your nails clacking away on your phone. What would you say? "Good"? "Fine"? "She's sleeping"? He wished you'd go on another tangent, stringing him along in a conversation where one message hardly had anything to do with the last.

Buzz

You sent a photo.

Simon's chest felt tight with anticipation - he hurriedly clicked on the image to make it bigger.

It was you and Riley, both lying on the couch. You were curled up against the arm of the sofa, wearing your pajamas and tucked under his throw blanket with a book in your hand. Your hair was down, and a bit damp, too. Riley was cozied up to your side, her snout resting in your lap. The both of you looked up into the camera - you, with a sweet, soft smile that nearly put Simon in cardiac arrest.

Doing good! I think she likes it when I read to her!

Simon exhaled heavily through his nose. You read to the dog- of course you fucking read to the dog. Why was that attractive? Why was he so warmed by your matching daisy pajamas? By the mug of tea on the coffee table (in his mug, which made it worse)? By the way Riley was so comfortable around you?

How were you doing this to him - infiltrating his brain so easily, consuming it like a weed? A beautiful, elegant weed?

He groaned and laid his phone on his chest, rubbing his eyes. He let his palms linger over the sockets for a moment. Something must be wrong with him. Simon was never so easily distracted by anything, let alone anyone. Had he gotten soft on his time off? Was this some sort of pre-middle-aged hormone cocktail that was controlling him? How the hell was he supposed to snuff this flame out? He could never request your services again; but as soon as the thought entered his head, he threw it out. He'd keep you, if not for his own selfishness, then for the way you were so excited to have the job in the first place. This would have to be a project of self-discipline. He would have to figure out how to-

"Steamin' Jesus- that's who ye got watchin' Riley?!"

For a moment, Ghost nearly came out and landed a punch to Soap's gut. But Simon simply jolted, catching his phone right before it slid off onto the floor.

"Bloody- fuckin' hell, Johnny." He grumbled.

"Bloody fuckin' hell indeed-" Soap agreed, trying to swipe at Simon's phone. "Pull 'er up again, lemme see-"

"Bugger off." Simon warned. He sat up on the edge of the bed and pocketed his phone.

"Awe, this why ye dinnae want te talk 'bout 'er earlier?" Soap said with a playful grin, collapsing onto his cot on the opposite side of the room. "Been hidin' tha' pretty thing all te yerself?"

"'M not hidin' anythin.'"

"Then lemme see- might snag 'er number, too-"

"No you won't, Johnny."

"Why not?"

"Because y' don't need a bloody dog-walker."

"Maybe not, but I could always use a lass, eh?"

"She is off limits-" Simon said, narrowing his gaze at Soap, "- n' there's not gonna be another word 'bout it."

Simon laid down and rolled to face the wall before Soap could utter another word. He heard Johnny scoff, followed by the sound of him removing his boots.

"Dry piece of shite, ye are..." he grumbled.

Despite his instinctual reaction to Johnny's instantaneous attraction to you, Simon was a bit shocked with himself. Again - you weren't his. The only tether he had to you was strictly monetary and contractual. He even imagined that you might be pissed, having a client treat you like they were your bodyguard. He needed to figure this out and de-root it from the source, before it got any worse.

But... if he allowed himself to entertain the idea, just this once... Would it be such a bad thing? To attempt- to convince you that he wasn't so horrible a person, really- if you could just see past his hard, outer shell, built up from years of trauma and blood. Who knows how long it would take you to see him as a decent person, but he could think about the logistics later. It wasn't against the law to date your pet-sitter, he just had to make himself believe that. Maybe you were just the perfect amount of sunshine that could melt the iciness within him.

With a glance over his shoulder, making sure Soap was minding his beeswax, Simon pulled his phone out of his pocket. He gave your picture a long, favorable glance, before he sent you a final message for the night.

keep reading to her for me, and tell her I'll be home soon. thanks again.

Next ->

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#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader

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allfearstofallto · 8 months ago

Text

Devout

Yandere! Childe x Fem,Nun! Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

TW: 18+ MDNI, Noncon, lots and lots of mentioning of religion, reader is a virgin, yandere, obsession, unprotected sex, finishing inside

Heavenly. What an on the nose way to describe you. Dressed head to toe in loose fitting, religious garb, your hair covered. All he could see was the skin of your hands and that heavenly face.

Such a sweet, welcoming smile and gentle voice was befitting of a nun. He could only imagine how many men you'd lured into your trap of giving donations with those assets of yours. Kindly praising them for whatever they could give like an owner to a dog. And he was another willing victim.

Your eyes went wide when he dropped the large bag of mora into your little basket. Your grip wavered a bit as the heavy coins weighed your little arms down, and all he did was smirk. He'd made himself known to you.

“What a generous donation!” You exclaimed. That pretty smile of yours, the way your eyes lit up. He resisted the urge to lick his lips while thinking about what he could do with that mouth, a lewd gesture to be doing right in front of a nun, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

He felt himself cock an eyebrow at your words. Pleasure? He supposed he gave pleasure to receive it. He eyed you up and down, he could see so little of you. The skirt down to your ankles left plenty to the imagination and imagine he did, “I suppose I'm trying to be new to the faith.”

A little white lie, but your smile growing wider made it worth it. If all nuns were as pretty and tempting as you were, he'd join the commune immediately.

“Lord Barbatos accepts all,” You said, holding the basket back out to him and implying that you wanted him to take his money back, “Don't give because you're new to worship. All that is given is accepted, but we will still take you with open arms.”

“I want to give you this much,” he said, a firm hand pushing the basket back, “and I want to give you so much more.”

Going to the city of freedom, a city known for its drinking and partying, just for the cathedral was quite the story amongst his subordinates. But Childe didn't care. The things he wanted to do with you weren't holy, but that was much better than a glass of wine and a song. If they knew the treat that stayed praying in the church day and night, they too would take to the faith.

Walking into the chapel, the first thing he was greeted with was the sight of you on your knees, praying to the statue of that absentee god. Filling that pretty mouth of yours felt like a better use of this time, you were already on your down there after all. But he decided against it. Not yet at least. Not when you were smiling at him so sweetly, motioning him closer to pray next to you.

Childe mentally asked his archon for forgiveness, but still kneeled next to you. The Tsaritsa was a kind woman, he hoped that she would understand why he was praying to a false God. The way you were sitting on your knees, your round behind pressed against the heels of your feet, it made the fabric of your skirt press against your body. The curve of your ass, it was the first time he's seen it and he sucked air in through his teeth. He truly was being tempted, wasn't he?

“It's such an honor to see you, Ajax. Wasn't it?” Even the way you tilted your head in confusion was adorable. Typically he'd be upset if someone had forgotten his name, he didn't feel forgettable, but he was going to make you remember. Those plump lips of your would be calling his name over and over again, until it would be all you could say.

“Yes, it's Ajax,” he dropped the clasps of his hands and stood again, holding out an arm for you as well, “I was in the area again and decided to stop by for a prayer.”

A look of hesitance danced across that pretty face of yours as you debated whether or not to take his hand, before deciding against it. Instead, you chose to stand by yourself, a move that made him long for you even more. So he couldn't even feel the softness of your skin? Yet another ache in his groin, you were honestly trying to get him, weren't you?

“Forgive my rudeness, but we're discouraged from touching those of the opposite sex. Especially those who haven't taken vows, better to not tempt provocation,”

Vows? He'd assumed as much, but hearing you say it his pants grow even tighter. Temptation was you. You were such a pure soul, but you were sin. That body under all those clothes, he knew that it was erotic. He knew you felt lustful thoughts, that even you had ideas and thoughts that went against your virtue.

“I understand,” he spoke in a strained whisper, gripping the legs of his pants tight, “Do you think we can go somewhere private? I have a few confessions I need to make.”

You perked up once again, large eyes filled with enthusiasm, “Our father is holding a confessional if you'd like-”

“No,” he cut you off quickly, “I want to talk to you alone, do you think that's a possibility?”

There was a look of aversion in your eyes, clearly you were thinking about it. You looked like you wanted to tell him no, but your good natured heart and kind ways were fighting against what was right and what you felt like you needed to do as a nun.

“I'm-I'm not meant to take confessions, brother Ajax,” you said sweetly.

He stepped a bit closer to you, trying not to intimidate you, but also trying to press the importance. His length was hardening even more, his pants growing tighter. If you noticed, you didn't say anything, but of course, how would you?

“Please, it'll just be for a moment,”

Fearful eyes looked around the church before you motioned for him to follow you. Going against your God while in his home, you felt like you were committing a crime. But you couldn't leave a person in need behind. You're sure Barbatos would find it in his heart to forgive you.

“Please, make yourself at home here, dear brother,” you said while leading him through the door.

It was a simple room. An altar at the other end of the room, with a few candles and offerings and dim lighting. The room was scented with incense, a sweet smell that reminded him of the dandelion wine that Mondstadt was known for.

You lowered yourself onto your knees and motioned for Childe to follow you, “Please, kneel next to me, confess whatever you feel necessary,”

He sat down next to you, close enough to where his shoulder brushed against you. You flinched from this contact, but didn't say anything. A thought crossed your mind, so much space in the room and he chose to be right against you.

“Forgive me, I have sinned,” he said, but he never closed his eyes, never clasped his hands together, never lowered his head.

“Confess to me your woes,”

He sucked air in through his teeth, trying not to jump on you. Not yet. Not while you were looking at him so hopefully. So much trust. It only made him want you more.

“I've been having sinful thoughts,” he began, his eyes not leaving you, “Sinful to the point of being debilitating. They wreck my mind constantly.”

“Are these thoughts of harming others?” You asked, this didn't seem like the question of a clergy, but rather one of genuine curiosity.

He didn't look away from you, while his hand slithered down and he began palming his length through his pants, “They used to be. But now they're more deviant in nature.”

“Br-brother Ajax, such actions are- they are unbefitting for the church,” you said quickly, turning your head away to not see him as he defiled sacred ground with his actions.

“I need you, sister,” he leaned closer to you, whispering his words right into the shell of your ear. You squirmed at the feeling of his breath, such a cute reaction it was, and the yelp you let out when his hand gripped your ankle was even cuter. He tugged at your leg, pushing your back against the ground and leaning over you.

He'd seen fear like this before. Many times before. When he plunged a weapon into someone's chest, watching the life fade from their eyes, it was similar to the one you were making now. The tears, the muttered begging, even the way your lips quivered, it was all the same. So why now did it make his cock even harder in the confines of his pants?

Where would he even begin with you? Quite honestly, he didn't even know how to take your garb off. Instead, he took to ripping it, right at the neck. Pulling it apart straight down the middle until every inch of your torso became visible to him. Your breasts were covered in a basic bra. Normally he was the type to prefer more intricate lingerie to entice his urges, yet something about the simplicity of your undergarments made him hiss air in through his teeth. It was like you knew for certain that nothing was happening, yet he still was forcing you to show him.

“Stop! You can't do this!” You cried, trying to cover yourself in what scraps of your dress you could find.

He was gentle as he touched you this time, fingertips stroking your cheek, but his words following were harsh and deathly serious, “Don't fight me, I wouldn't want to hurt you,”

“Heavenly father, I ask that you forgive me…” you began to mutter to yourself in prayer. Laying there, hands clasped and teary eyes shut as you felt him trace up and down your thigh with his tongue. The feeling of his saliva, going up to your stomach, one of his hands cupping your breast before ripping the fabric of your bra away, it made you sick to your stomach. Your pebbled nipples hitting the cold air were quickly sucked into his mouth, a pleasure never experienced before washing over your body. You shuddered, much to his approval.

He wanted to go slower. He wanted to tease you for hours before taking you. He wanted to make you cum over and over, proudly showing how lewd you truly were to your false God, but even he had grown impatient. Trying to win you the right way just wasn't working and he needed to feel you, as deeply as possible, the woman he'd fantasized about night after night.

The way your eyes widened when he dropped his pants was cute. When you tried to look away from his hard cock that was dripping precum onto your cunt, still begging with those sweet lips, it was even cuter. But the way you went silent, the way the world seemed to stop from you the second you felt the head of his cock against your opening, that was the cutest. He loved the look in your eye. The look of visceral fear. It was a look of knowing. Knowing that after he was finished with you, you'd have nowhere to go, but to him.

You only began truly fighting him off when he began pushing the head of his cock into your warmth. So tight and soft, no matter how hard you hit him, you couldn't make him leave your insides. When he bottomed out inside you, feeling your walls clench around every inch of his cock, he hissed. Face to face with you now, nestled deep within you, he kissed your wet cheeks. Childe wasn't one for love making, but he couldn't help but to be tender with you. His thrusts were slow, but deep, making sure you tasted all of him.

“Hush, little angel,” he cooed softly to you, while wiping away more of your tears. Your little sobs were agonizing to his heart, yet his cock only twitched harder, “It'll be over soon.”

And you nodded. Such a sweet thing. You nodded and let yourself go to him. He didn't take this as a sign to be rougher though. No. He couldn't. Not to you. He continued his same pace, softly humming to you and shushing you when you got too loud. He wanted to pound your insides, to fuck you brutally, but that would be for later.

Little sobs left your lips as your nails dug into the carpeted floor beneath you. He was still going slow. Thrusting in and out skillfully, his hand tenderly gripping your face and making you look him in the eye, any time you tried to look away, he'd just force your head back.

“I'm cumming soon, okay?” He muttered against your lips, kissing you gently afterwards.

With your mouth engulfed in his, you couldn't beg him to please not finish inside you. Instead, your body flailed beneath him, trying to get him off as you felt the thrust of his hips speed up and become more greedy. You felt him grip you tighter, you felt his moans grow louder against your lips. And all you could do is sit in horror as you felt his hips falter, his pace slow down, and his cock twitch even more as it pumped hot cum deep inside your.

Childe pulled away from the sloppy kiss, your lips covered in saliva and he smiled. You'd never seen such evilness until you looked into his eyes, proudly looking down at your cunt where the cum was seeping out. I'm your mind, you were saying another prayer, but you weren't sure if anyone was listening.

“Guess I have to marry you now,” he chuckled with a playful pat against your thigh. But despite the smile on his face you knew he wasn't joking.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin #yandere x you #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere #yandere childe smut #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #childe smut #childe x reader #childe x reader smut #genshin childe x reader #18+ mdni

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mamayan · 1 year ago

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Shigaraki Tomura

cw: NSFW • Holiday Filth • Crush Shigaraki • Modern AU • dry humping • language • implied alcohol usage • pathetic virgin Tomura

Thinking about being Shigaraki’s little sister’s best friend.

Being invited over to her house and being so excited unbeknownst to your friend to see her nasty older brother. Tomura holed up in his room, feet up and knees bent as he sits in his fancy leather gamer chair spewing filth into the mic of his headset. Being given the most toe curling glare from him as he looks up from under his messy bangs and sees you peaking at him through a crack in the door. Sneering and telling you to “fuck off” and you do, scampering away to shamelessly rifle through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for any of his hygiene products. There’s not many. It doesn’t matter though, since he left his dirty clothes from last night in a bundle on the bathroom floor beside the shower and toilet.

Your friend babbling on endlessly about family drama but you can’t pay attention as dinner begins and Tomura is forcibly dragged down the stairs, eye bags heavy from lack of sleep, mumbling out vague answers on how college is going. He notices his little sister’s annoying friend though, you, who always seems to be judging him from the way you constantly have your eyes on him. It pisses him off, and he’s not afraid of outing you in front of everyone.

“Why don’t you find something better to stare at bitch,” and cackling as the home filled with relatives and friends erupts at his rude comment and language. His family is comforting you, telling you he’s just having a rough day, he doesn’t mean it, etc. Your friend is intent on vengeance but you assure her it means nothing to you. She’s used to the behavior and agrees he’s not worth the trouble, being pulled away by relatives intent on being nosy into her personal life.

Tomura did mean it though, and you know it too, and it still doesn’t stop you from sneaking away upstairs while the house slowly boozes up and begins to become rowdy. Tomura slunk away to return to his game he’d been playing with friends, some stolen snacks and a cheap bottle of vodka in his hoodie pocket he takes a straight swig from every now and then as he gets heated into his gaming match.

He’s nearly surprised to see you open his bedroom door and not his mom or sister intent on giving him a headache.

“Back to keep staring whore?” He’s snickering as he flips up the mic, his game paused for a moment while waiting on another friend to join the match.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t expect you to lock the door, a brow cocked up as he reassess you.

You’re much cuter now. The baby fat gone and a young woman blooming, barely an adult now but it didn’t stop his eyes from lowering to your chest that was rising and falling quite quickly. He’s always been so used to seeing you attached to his bratty shit sister that he’s never appreciated you before.

“Wanna do more than stare though.” He’s even more shocked to see you tossing the ugly Christmas cardigan you matched with his sister, the plain dress under easily lifted over your head and dropped too. Right in front of him.

“Ha, oh yeah?” He’s baffled but not upset, dropping his feet and manspreading wide as his cock hardens in his sweats. He’s shameless in palming himself through them, setting his controller aside and licking his dry lips as you come closer, cute little matching bra and pantie set doing little to hide your hard nipples poking through the fabric and pussy lips. “Fuck, look at you, all grown up huh?” His eyes on you as you slide the dainty fabric covering your cunt down and stepping out, removing your bra next slowly, letting him drink you in. You’re nearly vibrating with excitement, eyes wide and bright as you straddle him.

“Little pervert, you wanna ride my cock?” You smile, because he’s acting like he isn’t some loser virgin with trembling hands digging into the fat of your soft ass. You can feel he’s just as strung up now, his palms lightly sweating as they slide up and cup your breasts, eagerly pitching and pulling at your nipples while you roll your hips over his chubby cock. “D-damn, where’d’ya learn to act like this?” He’s nearly about to cum from touching your tits alone, but the feel of you grinding down on him is making him lose it.

“I watched porn.” He groans, finally losing patience and pulling his dick free from his sweats, ready to naively try and enter you without any prep. He’s huffing and breathing heavy as he rubs the tip through your folds and trying and failing to hump into you. He’s just bumping uselessly against your tightly closed entrance while he moans and buries his face in your chest, happy when you begin to run your fingers through his hair.

He’s coming a minute later. No penetration necessary for him to spurt his hot spunky load against your pussy as he nearly passes out from how hard he cums.

“Holy fuck—!” You nearly have to muffle his cry of pleasure as he grips you for dear life.

The banging on his door a minute later making you both fumble for clothing as your friend’s voice comes out in a battle cry for your location.

“You fucking asshole! You hurt her feelings and now I can’t find her!”

You both only look at one another in amusement and embarrassment.

“Try looking up your ass since her face is always buried there!” He shouts back, and you have to bit back the comment you want to yell at him. Little does anyone else know the true reason you love going to the Shigaraki house when Tomura is home.

#Yan thirsts #shigaraki smut #shigaraki mha #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader smut #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #boku no hero academia tomura #tomura x reader #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tomura shigaraki smut

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prettygirl-gabi · 2 months ago

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Suprise bubs

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !non-athletic fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: who doesn't love suprise visits on important days.

The hum of a hairdryer echoed through the suite as I stepped quietly down the hall, my heart racing in anticipation. Paige had no idea I was here. She thought I was still back home, dealing with work and classes, completely oblivious to the fact that I had coordinated this entire surprise with her best friends. Today was one of the most important days of her life—the WNBA Draft—and there was no way I’d miss it.

I tugged my dress down a little, smoothing out the fabric. It was pink, flowy, and entirely different from the oversized hoodie I’d been wearing when I left the airport hours earlier. My heels clicked softly against the tile as I stopped outside the door to her suite.

“Is she almost ready?” I whispered to Nika, who peeked out of the door.

Her eyes lit up as she nodded. “Perfect timing, ma. She’s almost done. You sure you’re ready for this?”

“Born ready,” I whispered, grinning.

Nika chuckled, letting me slip inside. The scene was chaotic but organized—Paige sat on a stool near the window, her hair being curled as Azzi and KK lounged on the couch nearby, chatting about the draft. The room smelled like strawberries and Nutella, her favorite snack, which she held in her lap, too preoccupied to notice me sneaking in.

I took a deep breath, letting my nerves settle, and leaned casually against the doorframe. “Wow, P. I didn’t know they made statues that moved.”

Paige’s head snapped up, her wide blue eyes locking on mine. The spoonful of Nutella she’d been holding froze mid-air, and her jaw dropped. “Baby?”

“Surprise,” I said, smirking as I walked toward her.

She stood up so fast she nearly knocked over the plate of strawberries. “Ma, what—how—what are you doing here?” Her voice was filled with disbelief, and she blinked rapidly as if making sure I was real.

“It’s our anniversary, isn’t it?” I said, stopping in front of her and tipping my head back to meet her gaze.

Paige wrapped her arms around me, lifting me slightly off the ground. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Crazy about you,” I teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

She set me down gently, her hands lingering on my waist. “You didn’t have to fly out. You’ve got so much going on.”

I cupped her face, brushing my thumb along her jawline. “I’m not missing this, P. This is your dream, and I’ll always be here to support you.”

“Ugh, you two are disgusting,” Nika said, throwing a pillow at us.

“Jealous?” I shot back, laughing as Paige pulled me closer.

“Maybe,” Nika muttered, but she was grinning.

Paige tugged me toward her stool, sitting back down and keeping one hand in mine. “You really didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” I said, leaning against the counter. “How’s the glam going? You look good, bubs.”

“Thanks, mamas,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “They’re almost done, I think.”

I grinned. “Well, good. Gotta make sure my girl looks perfect when she goes number one.”

“Stop,” she groaned, covering her face with her free hand. “You’re gonna jinx it.”

“Never,” I teased, winking at her stylist. “But maybe add a little extra blush. She looks so cute when she’s all flushed.”

“Baby,” Paige whined, her face now fully red.

“What?” I said innocently, laughing as she shook her head.

When her glam session was done, Paige stood and turned to me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. “You look beautiful, ma.”

“Thanks, P,” I said, doing a little spin for her. “Gotta make sure I’m worthy of being your plus-one.”

“You’re always worthy,” she said softly, pulling me in for a kiss.

The draft was a whirlwind of emotions. I held Paige’s hand tightly as her name was called first, the room erupting in cheers. She turned to me immediately, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “We did it, baby,” she whispered, squeezing my hand.

“No, you did it,” I said, kissing her quickly before she headed to the stage.

Watching her stand there, holding up her new team’s jersey with that million-watt smile, filled me with so much pride I thought my heart might burst.

After the draft, Paige had arranged for a private dinner to celebrate both her achievement and our anniversary. She led me into a quiet, candlelit restaurant, her hand never leaving mine. When we reached our table, my eyes widened. A massive bouquet of flowers sat waiting for me, a mix of roses, lilies, and peonies.

“Paige,” I breathed, looking up at her.

“Happy anniversary, ma,” she said, leaning down to kiss me. “Thank you for being my rock. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

I smiled, blinking back tears. “You’re gonna make me cry, P.”

“Good,” she teased, pulling out my chair for me.

Later that night, as we lay curled up on the couch back in her hotel suite, Paige pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked, snuggling closer.

“Posting this,” she said, showing me an Instagram story. It was a picture of me from dinner, holding the bouquet of flowers. The caption read: Draft day, anniversary, all with my forever girl. 💜

“Paige,” I whispered, my heart swelling.

“It’s time, baby,” she said, pressing her forehead to mine. “The world deserves to know who I’m doing all of this for.”

I kissed her softly, letting the love I felt for her speak for itself.

That night, as her post flooded with likes and comments, I realized just how lucky I was to have her—not as a superstar, but as my P.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

#support the writers!#oneshot #gabi writes #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fluff #paige x reader #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers oneshot #paige bueckers blurb #fem reader #established relationship #kk arnold #nika muhl #azzi fudd

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satellite-evans · 3 months ago

Text

sea view

Pairing: Harry Styles x wife!reader

Summary: Harry and his pregnant wife spending a day at the beach <3

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The golden sun hung lazily on the horizon, stretching its warm fingers across the beach. Each wave that lapped at the shore seemed to echo the steady rhythm of your heart, entwined with his. Harry’s hand slid down to yours, lacing your fingers together as you walked along the edge of the tide, the cool water occasionally licking at your toes. His thumb traced idle patterns against your skin, the gesture almost absentminded but deeply affectionate. The closeness of him made your chest feel full, as if the love you shared could hardly be contained in such a quiet moment.

Harry stopped suddenly, letting out a content sigh and stretching his arms out wide as if to embrace the entire ocean. “Do you ever stop to think about how mad all this is?” he asked, his voice tinged with wonder. He looked back at you, his eyes softening as they landed on your growing bump. “Me, you, this little bean in here.”

His free hand grazed your belly, his fingertips trailing delicately over the fabric of your sundress. The tenderness of the gesture sent a wave of warmth through you, a shiver of excitement and love.

“Mad is one way to describe it,” you replied, a smile curling on your lips. “Miraculous is another.”

“Miraculous,” Harry repeated, the word rolling off his tongue as if savoring it. He stopped walking entirely, tugging your hand gently to pull you closer. The sight of him then—bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun, his features soft with awe—took your breath away.

“I don’t think there’s a single word that could do justice to this,” he said, his voice quieter now. His hand splayed fully over your belly, his fingers flexing slightly as if memorizing the curve of your form. “Or to you.”

You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze, and you ducked your head instinctively, embarrassed by the intensity of his admiration. Harry wasn’t having it, though. His fingers tilted your chin up with a gentle insistence, and his smile—equal parts cheeky and adoring—melted your heart.

“Don’t you dare look away,” he teased, his voice low and playful. “I want to see that glow.”

“Harry, you’re ridiculous,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“Ridiculously in love with my wife,” he corrected, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. “And ridiculously lucky that she agreed to carry my baby, even if I did forget to take the bins out last night.”

“Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten that,” you quipped, poking him lightly in the chest. “But maybe I’ll forgive you… if you’re good.”

“Define ‘good,’” he murmured, his voice dropping into that lower, teasing tone that always turned your knees to jelly.

Before you could answer, he kissed you. It was slow and deep, like the tide itself had paused just to give you this moment. His lips moved against yours with a kind of reverence that made your heart race, and when he finally pulled back, you were breathless, leaning into him for support.

“Good enough?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You laughed, pushing lightly at his chest. “Barely. But you’re getting there.”

By the time you reached the blanket he’d set up on the sand, Harry had already shrugged off his shoes and set down the picnic basket he’d carried. The blanket was oversized and ridiculously plush, covered in cushions that looked far too fancy for a beach day. You arched a brow at him as you lowered yourself carefully onto it.

“This is very… elaborate,” you teased, smoothing a hand over the soft fabric.

“Only the best for my girl,” Harry said, dropping to his knees beside you and immediately pulling a container of strawberries from the basket.

“For the lady,” he said with a theatrical flourish, holding one up to your lips. The grin on his face was pure mischief, but it softened when you took the strawberry, your teeth sinking into the juicy fruit. He watched you like you were performing magic, his gaze warm and unblinking.

“You’re spoiling me,” you said, leaning back against the cushions with a smirk.

“You deserve to be spoiled,” he replied, his voice turning serious. He shifted to lie on his side next to you, propping himself up on one elbow. His free hand found its natural place on your bump, his fingers spreading wide as though he wanted to feel every inch of the connection between you and the baby. “Can I spoil you a little more?”

“What are you up to, Styles?” you asked suspiciously, narrowing your eyes.

“I was thinking,” he said, a mischievous glint sparking in his gaze, “that the sea looks awfully inviting. Fancy a swim?”

You hesitated, glancing out at the gentle waves. “I don’t know. I feel like a beached whale these days.”

Harry let out a laugh, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart flutter. “Don’t even joke about that. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And I mean it. Come on, love. Let me hold you in the water. It'll feel good.”

The water was cooler than you’d expected, but not unpleasant. True to his word, Harry’s arms were around you the moment you waded in, holding you close as if you might drift away.

“See? This isn’t so bad, is it?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. The closeness made your heart flutter, and you wrapped your arms around his neck for balance.

“No, not bad,” you admitted, leaning into him. The sensation of the water buoying your weight was freeing, and you found yourself relaxing completely against his chest.

Harry’s hands roamed gently—one resting against the curve of your lower back, the other slipping under the water to cradle your belly. His thumb rubbed soft circles, and his touch felt reverent, almost worshipful.

“You’re carrying a part of me,” he said, his voice quiet, almost as if he was talking to himself. “Our baby. How do you do it? How are you this strong?”

Your throat tightened at his words, but you managed a small laugh. “I think you’ve got a romanticized view of it. There’s a lot of complaining and ice cream involved.”

“And I’ll listen to every complaint and buy every pint of ice cream for the rest of our lives,” he vowed, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder. “You’re everything to me, you know that?”

You nodded, suddenly overcome with emotion. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

Harry kissed you then, his lips capturing yours with a tenderness that made you feel as though the entire world had disappeared.

When you returned to the blanket, the sun was dipping below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in hues of pink and orange. Harry handed you a towel and then promptly decided it was a better idea to dry your legs himself, taking far longer than necessary and sneaking cheeky kisses every time he bent closer.

“You know what I think?” he said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“I think our baby is going to be just like you—kind, strong, stubborn as hell,” he teased, earning a light elbow to the ribs. He winced dramatically. “Oi, I’m fragile, you know!”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” you replied, trying to sound annoyed, though your smile betrayed you.

“Insufferably handsome,” he corrected, puffing his chest out a little. “And insufferably mad about you.”

“Oh, here we go,” you groaned playfully, covering your face with your hands. “Should I prepare myself for another Shakespearean sonnet about my ‘radiant glow’?”

“Not just a glow—your divine luminescence,” he countered with a grin, rolling onto his back and pretending to gaze at the sky. “It rivals the sun, the moon, the stars—”

“Alright, enough!” you said, laughing as you reached for a pillow from the blanket and swung it at him. Harry caught it with a laugh, holding it above his head like a trophy.

“Violence against a man praising his wife!” he exclaimed, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “What will the baby think?”

“They’ll think you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love,” he shot back, leaning over to kiss you despite the pillow still clutched in his hand. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you pushed him back onto the blanket. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Harry grinned, tossing the pillow aside and pulling you closer until your head rested on his chest again. “I really am,” he said quietly, the humor giving way to genuine affection in his tone. After a beat, he added, “But if the baby gets my sense of humor, you’re in trouble.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned, shaking your head. “Then I really will be outnumbered.”

Harry let out a loud laugh, the sound blending with the waves as the sky deepened into twilight. The two of you stayed there, bickering playfully and exchanging kisses until the stars began to appear, painting the start of your next chapter in a perfect blend of love and laughter.

#fluff #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x wife!reader #harry styles x pregnant!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader

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p-taryn-dactyl · 3 months ago

Text

masked hearts

part i

a/n: hi! this is my first time writing for ambessa so please be kind lmao. i also know very little about LoL lore :) this is kinda an AU where the Medarda family is together word count: 2.5k warning(s): none (yet); well no real warnings, reader has a crush and is not very smooth; very awkward; you're a lesbian; unedited 😭

prompt: ambessa holds a ball to find a partner for her son but what happens when you're the one to catch her eye?

Your kingdom was one of splendor and beauty, the hills ripe with settlements, the trees fruitful and the air crisp. It wasn't a mystery why the Medarda clan claimed this small portion of the world for themselves, as your kingdom sat on a pivital route for trade. The mystery however, was why the head of the Medarda's, Ambessa, chose this place to be the homeland of her son's future spouse. The flyers went up around the center of the capitol first, the paper of expensive quality and the ink shimmering with gold.

It was an invitation to a ball. One of masks and hidden identities.

The Medarda's, while they've never been accused of not caring about physical appearance, put wit above all. It was fitting that the son of a warlord would first fall for the mind before the body. However, as the whispers got around the kingdom, people realized there wasn't a class specified to attend. Everyone, rich and poor, was invited to attempt to become a Medarda-by-law.

You, however, weren't as excited as your sisters and cousins. You watched as they danced around your shop, holding up different fabrics and colors, trying to see which one would make their dress stand out to Kino. Laughing, you wiped down the counter, your eyes trained on your register, imagining it bursting with gold after your town had finished sending in their requests for their gowns and masks.

"Y/N, have you decided what you're going to wear?" One of your cousins, Laina, appeared behind the counter, her young hands stabilizing her as she stood on her toes, "Mama says I can go if I finish my chores the week before!"

You gave her a soft smile, flicking your slightly damp rag at her and laughing when she recoiled with an unamused glare.

"I don't think I am going to attend, but I can personally make your dress!"

Laina's face fell but her eyes still had a sparkle from your request.

"Why not?" She pouted, crossing her arms once she managed to pull herself up to sit on your freshly cleaned counter, "And would you make me a mask too?"

Sighing, you threw your rag into the bucket of water at your feet, ignoring the splash against your boots. You could always finish cleaning later. Leaning with your back agaisnt the counter, you mimicked her pose, crossing your arms and pouting out your lower lip.

"Masks are for potential suitors of Kino, maybe if he's still looking for a partner in a decade I'll make you one," Laina opened her mouth as if to interupt, to say she wasn't too young even though her tenth birthday had only just passed two days before. You held up a finger, stopping her words before they left her mouth, "And...I'm not one for the company of men, you know that. A large party, loud and boisterous, sounds fun but with my luck I would be the one to catch the wandering eye of Kino Medarda."

Laina nodded, albeit a little dissapointed. She played with a strand of hair falling in front of her eyes.

"Would you think about coming? With me? Mom and Dad aren't going, they want to have a quiet night in and Alana will be too busy trying to become a princess."

You laughed loudly, causing the customers of the shop and your family members to look at you. You covered your mouth with a hand, nodding at the customers apologetically. Pursing your lips, you scoffed humorously as Laina gave you one of her sad eyes expressions, one she knew you couldn't say no to. Rolling your eyes, you ruffled Laina's hair with a defeated smile.

"Alright fine, but you'll have to convince your mother to send me a basket full of honey buns afterward," Laina clapped in excitement, nodding in agreement. She fixed her eyes on you, taking a scrap of dark red fabric from her pocket and holding it up against your face.

"This should be for your dress."

Taking the fabric from Laina, you felt it between your fingers and sighed. What did you get yourself into.

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In a few measley hours you would find yourself within the walls of the Medarda castle, built from stone from the most coveted quarry in your kingdom. At the right time of day, you swore you could see it shining brighter than a star upon the hill which it sat. Laina was a bundle of energy and was currently bouncing around the apartment above your family's shop. She was talking so fast, excitement blurring her words together so much so you couldn't even distinguish what she was saying, so you only nodded along to her words as you examined your dress one last time. Laina had long been dressed and now all her movement made you worried she would wrinkle or tear the precious fabric.

Your dress, one that matched the dark red Laina had chosen for your mask, layed across your lap, subject to your wandering eyes as you looked for any imperfections. While you didn't exactly want to catch anyone important eyes, you didn't want to be seen in a less than perfect gown.

"Put it on! We have to leave soon if we want to make it for the opening of the gates!" Laina excalimed, clapping her hands together as she twirled, her light green dress floating around her like petals in the wind. You smiled, gesturing towards the door with your head.

"Well, I'll need someone to guard the door while I change. I don't want anyone bursting in here while I'm in my unspeakables." You held your head up haughtily like your grandmother, mimicking her accent and pretending to clutch your pearls at the mention of your underwear. Laina covered her mouth as she giggled, nodding as she ran out to stand by your door, only pausing right before she shut it.

"If you need help, you'll ask right?"

You saw in her eyes the desperation of being a helper, a feeling you knew too well. You nodded at her then waved your hand, beckoning her to shut the door. At the click, you sighed, looking back at your gown, starting to feel the uncomfortable feeling of anxiety roaring in your stomach and up your throat. Damn Laina's puppy dog eyes. Now, instead of sitting in bed with a book and a hot cup of tea, you were going to dance in front of one of the most powerful family's in Runeterra. With your luck you would face plant right in front of Kino, or worse, his mother. At the thought of Ambessa, your mind grew conflicted. Sure, you had a healthy fear of the woman who was shrouded in tales of blood, but you remembered the first time you saw the matriarch after the Medarda's had claimed your kingdom for themselves. It was like a schoolgirl's crush on a teacher, you knew it would never go anywhere but yet, even after all the years, you still dreamed of the strong hands and scarred face which had been burned into your mind the second you swore her eyes landed on you in the crowd.

Shaking your head, you snapped yourself out of your senseless dreaming. Being attracted to women wasn't an issue, it never had been, but being attracted to that woman could only bring you strife as you compared all future partners to her. Standing up, you shedded your clothing, standing only in your slip and stockings tied up at your knee. Taking a deep breath, you slid the dress on, each part brushing against your skin in soft silk. Once it was on, all that was left was to tighten the corset. You brushed your hands down, smoothing down the fabric before calling for Laina, knowing you could tighten it yourself. Laina burst into the room, her eyes widening as she gasped.

"Y/N, you're so beautiful! I knew that color would be pretty on you!"

You felt your face flush from the compliments, not used to the attention. Laina pulled up a stool to stand on as she started tightening the your dress.

"Ah! Ok, if you want me to dance with you, you're going to have to let me breathe."

Laina chuckled sheepishly, loosing the ribbons slightly.

"Sorry! I think you're done!"

You nodded, moving to hold yourself up against the wall as you slipped on your shoes, dreading a night spent soley wearing heels. You grabbed your mask and held out your hand to Laina, bowing playfully.

"I believe it's time for us to depart, my lady."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night was young yet you already were desperate for the strike of midnight, the time you and Laina had agreed upon leaving. Speaking of Laina, she had made a few friends with the other young children attending the ball, sitting in a corner with them as they played games, their laughter hidden by the music. At the front of the giant room sat Mel Medarda and her consort, Jayce Talis. They were holding hands as they watched the dancers, leaving you to wonder when they would join the party. Kino was already weaving his way through the room, dancing with many but seemingly connecting with none. And Ambessa, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes seemingly met hers, was making her way into the crowd, her mask one of gold and war. You looked away frantically, returning your attention to the table of food in front of you. After a few moments, you felt yourself relax, yet that was short lived. You felt a presence behind you and suddenly, you were very aware that you were the only one at the table and not on the dance floor. Which felt like the universe was just shitting you at this point. You picked up a berry, inspecting it as if that would make the imposing woman standing behind you not be standing behind you.

It didn't work.

Slowly, you turned around, heart beating in your ears drowning out the music. You didn't realize how close she was, causing you to jump slightly and bump into the table. For a second, you just stared at each other before Ambessa moved. You tensed, before you realized she had grabbed a pastry from the platter that had been knocked off center. She took a bite, keeping her eyes trained on you before she spoke. You just kept mentally pinching yourself, trying to force yourself out of this embarassing nightmare.

"Is that all you're going to have, Little One?" Her voice sent shivers down your spine as you processed what she had said, her head nodding to the berry still clutched in between your fingers, it's juices staining your fingertips.

"Oh! Uh, no? I'll have," you didn't want to look away from the tall woman, fearing that would be a sign of disrespect, so you tried to remember what food had been spread out, "bread? Yes, bread, I like bread." Your eyes widened as you spoke, now mentally punching yourself for the dumb response. Bread? Now come on. Part of you was grateful for the mask covering part of your face, hiding what was sure to be a horrendous blush.

Ambessa's mouth quirked into a smirk, taking a slight step towards you before angling her body so she could gesture her arm towards the sea of people.

"This whole night you've stayed by the table, or near that corner of children, never once even attempting to join the festivites," she turned her attention back to you, slightly cocking her head to the side, "Is this party boring you? Is my son?" You registered the humorous tone mixed with the protectiveness of a mother.

Quickly you shook your head, hand clenching the berry in your hand, bursting the fruit. You tried to start explaining yourself but the feeling of juice sticking to your skin made you uncomfortable. You still felt frozen by Ambessa's presence so you did what felt right in the moment, however pausing as you realized you had started licking your hand infront of the matriarch of war. In your embarassment, you didn't notice how Ambessa's eyes followed the actions of your tongue and fingers like a wolf hunting prey. Like a rubber band snapping, you realized you hadn't answered her question.

"I'm not bored! This is a beautiful procession and whoever catches your son's eye will be lucky."

Ambessa nodded slightly, turning her head to watch as Kino twirled a woman in blue. When she looked back to you, her eyes held a question laced with genuine interest and humor.

"And if you catch his eye?"

Your own eyes widened as you wiped your hand on the napkin you had grabbed while her attention was on her son. Ambessa didn't miss the change in your expression, your mask not hiding the nervousness shining in your eyes. Instead of your original adorable fear of her presence, you now seemed to radiate anxiety. She raised an eyebrow, knowing you couldn't see it, waiting for your response.

"I," you started, your eyes darting to Laina, who was now watching you with a teasing look, knowing of your godawful crush on the woman standing in front of you, "I would be very flattered-"

"But?" There was a sense of anticipation in her interuption, her words no longer holding underlying steel.

"But I would have to respectfully decline," you looked down at your hands, starting to speak quickly, desperate to explain yourself as to not give the impression you thought yourself too good for a conqueror's son, "Not out of any thought of doing better of course, I doubt that could even be accomplished, however I believe Kino- I mean, your son, deserves to be with someone who can love him purely and with romantic intent. The best I could give would be a position of friendship." You stopped to take a breath, fully intending to continue your ramble until the gods themselves had to shut you up. But this plan was foiled by Ambessa's strong hand holding your chin, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes analysed you, surveying your face before going lower to look at your dress. You felt heat rise, or more heat, at her intense stare. Something in the stitching on your bodice made recognition flicker in Ambessa's eyes. Her hand moved from your chin down to your waist, encouragaing you to walk with her. She continued to talk as the two of you made your way to the center of the room, the crowd parting as they danced around you.

"Do you already have someone in your heart? A different boy perhaps?"

If you weren't feeling like you were in a dream, you would have realized Ambessa was fishing for something, an answer she needed.

"No, my lady, I do not. I," you cleared your throat, "I won't ever have a man claim my heart."

Ambessa's grip on your waist grew stronger as she pulled you to her chest, positioning you to dance. You gasped as you felt her lips brush against your ear as she swayed you to the rhythm of the music.

"And if I lay a claim?"

a/n: haha sorry for the sudden ending i'm evil at my core. this fic was to test the waters for writing for this absolute goddess of a woman and i do have part 2 ready to go if anyone is interested! i cannot say my thoughts on Ambessa (or Sevika for that matter) for i want to keep this authors note short and PG ;) thank you for reading!! i hope this wasn't shit.

#ambessa medarda #ambessa medarda x reader #ambessa x reader #arcane fanfic #ambessa arcane #ambessa x you #ambessa medarda x you

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not-rigel · 3 months ago

Text

Always take care of you

Rating: E

warnings: butch4butch, brothel, smut, switch sevika, fingering r! recieving, cunnilingus r!recieving, edging, praise kink, use of "good boy", riding, emotional sex, aftercare, lets hope i'm not missing anything important

A/N: this is written to be read as butch4butch but i tried not to use many descriptors for reader. butches i love you sm and you deserve a sweet treat

WC: 6.1k!!!! (im sorry i got so fucking carried away)

It’s been weeks since the news of Silco’s death spread across Zaun. Silco's death left a massive power vacuum in the Undercity, displacing several people in the following turf wars, yourself included. You moved deeper into the Undercity, following the demands for your services. Where there's power, demand for sex is right behind.

Your line of work is rewarding, monetarily and emotionally. It was something that was suggested to you long ago. Not quite in the way some of the other workers you've encountered were. You had always liked to support and service others. You liked validating people in ways they never understood they needed. If you could help someone through their struggles and be told “I needed this. Thank you.” you were happy. So when a friend mentioned that sex work is another way to help others, you didn't need much time to think it over.

It took a few days to find work again at The Gardens. The atmosphere was a little different than your original brothel but a brothel nonetheless. The clientele here was more diverse. You were surprised at the range of people who walk through the doors. There would be couples looking to spice up their love life. Released prisoners that struggle to transition back into life and dating. Even overlords who are overworked without time for dating. It is beautiful to see all the people coming in, bonding over sex.

Despite the clientele being diverse, the workers weren't quite as varied. Even with having several men working at The Gardens, you were the most masculine person working there. All the men were pretty, long eyelashes and high cheekbones. All the women were showstopping, dressed head to toe in sparking fabrics and adorned with accessories. And it is fine with you to not be “pretty”. You preferred the masculine pet names and compliments. It ended up working to your advantage, attracting femme clients.

You're ten hours into your shift with a little over two hours left to go. You have a new client that paid for a full hour and your final hour is still unbooked. It's all fine by you, having made more than enough money tonight.

The time you have between sessions passes quickly and you smooth over your clothes before walking over to your designated room. All you know about your next client is her name, Sevika, that she is trying to band the Undercity together and is rumored to be phenomenal at sex. Naturally, gossip occurs at brothels so it's not uncommon for you to know a few facts behind each name.

You arrive at the curtains that separates the room from the hall, pinching the fabric and pulling it open enough to enter. Her aura is what you notice first. She sits legs spread on the sofa. It's a power pose, dominant and in charge. The more you take in her appearance, the more excited you feel. There have been several times you have found yourself attracted to your clients and she was incredibly attractive. She's the most masculine woman you've had as a client. Sharp jaw, short hair and thick eyebrows. For a moment you wonder if she is aware of who she's booked. You attracted the femme crowd exclusively.

She looks you over, hand coming up to cover her mouth. There's a glimmer of a smile in her eyes, a sparkle so quick you almost miss it. So maybe she is aware of what she's paying for.

To Sevika, you were a dream brought to life. It was how you dressed, how you held your posture, your hands, your expressions. Small little things that gave the masculine vibe. Babette wasn't fucking kidding when she told Sevika she'd “recently hired someone that was just your type.” She's been a regular at the brothel for years. Each pretty, glittering face blending together over the years. Your face couldn't blend in even if Sevika tried.

You take in a breath to ask her how she wants to proceed but she beats you to it “I want a contract.” she says simply, cutting straight to the point.

You pinch your eyebrows in confusion, “What?”

This was an odd request. Contracts, or sexual agreement forms, were usually reserved for workers with regular clients. When clear boundaries needed to be placed for the complex dynamics in a long term relationship. They leave no space for uncertainty. Knowing exactly what your clients want also rids the need to ask every time.

Sevika shakes her head, breathing out a little laugh-like huff through her nose, “A contract. Where we'll go over preferences then agree and sign.”

“I know all that I am… confused. You're not my regular,” you explain.

“Gotta start somewhere. Don't see any point in waiting. I want a contract with you,” she says it so sincerely, looking you right in the eyes as she does.

Your heart flutters a little. It seems like she is attracted to you, unless you're misunderstanding her demand for a contract. Everyone at The Garden's told you contracts were a big deal but Sevika will be your first.

“Okay. Um, I have to get them from Babette's office. Will that be alright?” you ask, not wanting to leave her alone while she is paying for your services.

“Go, I’ll be here,” she grants, nodding toward the curtain.

“Alright. I'll be right back.”

“And bring two,” she calls out before you leave.

“You need an extra copy?”

“No.”

You want to ask what she means but with each minute that passes without servicing her, the more guilt settles in. You leave the room, rushing to Babette's office to complete Sevika’s request. Babette is shocked to see you when you draw open the curtain to her office.

“Aren't you booked with Sevika, hon? No one comes to my office during her sessions. Is everything alright?” Babette asks.

“She requested a contract. Asked for an extra copy too” you tell her.

Babette is taken aback, not shocked for the same reasons you were. She expected Sevika to take a little longer with you from nerves.

“I honestly thought that girl would take a few visits to make a contract with you. I told her she'd like you,” Babette rambles as she retrieves the documents from her cabinet. She hands you the papers with a couple of pens.

“Good luck, hon. She's got a lot going on right now. But I'm sure you can handle her.”

You don't question what Babette could be referring to. Leaving the room, you thank Babette from over your shoulder. You rush back to Sevika’s room, hoping you can still make the most of your limited time.

“I hope you weren't waiting too long,” you say as you reenter the room. Sevika smiles at you, not hiding it this time. It's a crooked smirk, confident and laid back. The only thing giving her away was her picking at her cuticles.

“Not at all.” She pats the vacant spot next to her on the sofa.

You take a seat, leaving about two inches of space between you and hand her both contacts. You usually avoided initiating physical contact with your clients, letting them make the first move. You wanted your clients to be comfortable and initiate on their own terms. Sevika scoots over to close the small distance between you, pressing her thigh against yours. You return the press, leaning your shoulder into her as well. She is incredibly warm, heat diffuses from her skin into yours. The heat spreads past your shoulder and thighs, dissolving across your entire body with electric buzzing.

“I should be honest and say I haven’t had a client with a contract so this process is new to me. I promise that I’ll do my best to service you accordingly” you tell her.

“I kinda assumed you haven't had one before. With you being new here and all. I'll walk you through it.”

You chuckle, “You shouldn't have to. It's my job.”

“It's our contract. We'll do it together. First page,” she counters, clicking her pen. She hands one of the contracts to you. Using her thigh as a writing surface, she prints her name at the top of the page.

“Answer for yourself. Not what you think I'll like,” she says, filling in her dynamic preferences.

“You mean…?” your words trail off. This is an odd request. Contracts were meant so the workers always know what their clients want. Your wants aren't meant to me on the contract at all.

“I want you to fill out your wants and your boundaries. More than that, I want you to not think about my wants,” She taps her pen against the page before speaking again, “You probably get it… people assuming that we're automatically tops and dominant because we're butch. I don’t know about you but I sometimes feel stuck in a box.”

You do get it. The assumption that your masculinity automatically translates into authority. The assumption that you didn't need softness too. The feeling that all people see when they look at you is a woman trying to be a man. You're beginning to understand her, what being at The Gardens means for her. The first piece of the puzzle has been set on the table.

“I get it,” you snort and smile at her, “I completely fucking get it.”

You make a show of clicking your pen and printing your name at the top of the page. The sexual agreement is several pages long, listing roles, acts, kinks and terms and conditions.You fill out your forms together. It's the calmest you've felt in a long time.

“You finished the first page yet?” Her thigh pushes against yours again.

“Yup.” you turn over to the next sheet and nudge her back.

You've made it to the second to last page of the contract, checking off the last box in the fetish section. The bottom of the page says all involved parties must review the agreement together before proceeding to the final page.

“Ready to review?” you ask, even though you heard Sevika flip her contract back over to the first page two minutes ago.

“I'm ready. And just cross out anything you don’t like. I won’t mind.”

You swap contracts, and you work on memorizing all of her preferences. Sevika has checked off switch and masochist in the dynamics area. As for sex acts, several of the options have been checked off. The ones you make an effort to commit to memory are vaginal intercourse, anal intercourse, fingering, body worship, cum eating, finger sucking, edging, orgasm control, bondage, sensory deprivation, nipple clamps, biting, scratching, hair-pulling. All checked for receiving and giving. You write a slash through anything you don’t want to do.

“Can I get you to fill this one out a bit more?” Sevika hands you back your contract, where she’s circled ‘praise kink’, “I want you to add some phrases or what you like to be called.”

Sevika works fast, on the kink and fetish page already. You take a break from reading over her contract to amend yours. You write “good boy” “perfect” and “you’re doing so good” into the margin. She takes the contract back, eyes widening as she reads what you’ve written. She risks a glance at you, seeing that you’re watching her.

“You probably haven’t made it to that page yet but… we got a lot in common,” she chuckles.

“I can’t wait.”

Sevika doesn’t look away, and you let her hold eye contact.

“Can you sit on my lap?” She requests, it's spoken in a whisper. Like she is afraid to ask at all.

“Yes. Anything,” you assure her. You stand from your spot, slowly moving to settle onto her lap. You sit on her thigh and she hooks her flesh arm under your knees and rests them onto her other thigh. Her mechanical arm supports your lower back. You read over the kinks and fetishes page as her head rests on your shoulder. She was right to say you have a lot in common, every kink is aligned with yours. You see at the bottom of the page, where there is a bit of black space, Sevika has written in “Aftercare is necessary and non-negotiable.” You put a little checkmark next to it.

“Finished. Anything you want to discuss before we sign?” you ask.

“What were your no’s?”

You tell her where your preferences did not align and she takes the news admirably well. She made no changes to your contract. Together, you flip to the final page, filling out your names on both copies. Sevika uses your thigh as a surface to sign. When you’re done she takes your contract and sets them somewhere on the sofa.

“Well there's about ten minutes left in my hour. We can just sit here,” she lays her head onto your shoulder, face nuzzling your neck. Somehow she has even more warmth to offer, hot breath melting past your skin and muscles and bones. Warmth moves through you in a way that doesn't feel physical.

“I dont have anyone booked next hour,” you groaned. You cupped the back of her head with one hand, feeling the soft, buzzed hairs of her undercut. You pull her face in closer, so she can warm you even more.

“Is that flirting or good salesmanship?” she whispers against your skin.

“Flirting.”

“Thanks,” she laughs, “But I won’t be able to tonight. Tight schedule.”

“Then what do we do with your time?”

She cups your jaw, your chin resting in her palm. You lean your face into her hold, waiting for her to make the next move. Her fingertips twitch, another tell that she’s nervous. Another piece of the puzzle clicking into place. You look into her eyes, trying to find her. To know her.

“I want you to kiss me,” her voice trembles as much as her fingers on your cheeks. You hear the meaning in the words. It's not that she wants to kiss, it's that she wants to be kissed.

You nod, slanting your face closer to hers. You feel the tingle, that bit of warmth only Sevika gives you when you touch, as you close the distance. You lips meet hers in a soft kiss, her hand that was on your jaw trailed to the back of your neck and her thumb strokes the nape of your neck. You reposition your legs, swinging them over her thighs to straddle her. Sevika moans and pulls you closer, closing the space left between you. Her breast presses into yours, pushing into you with each breath.

You want to make her melt beneath you, kiss her until she knows softness like she’s never known it before. With the hand that’s cupping her head, you card your fingers through the short strands of her hair. Each tender press of your lips against her made her shudder and sink into the sofa. Each kiss gave you more pieces to the puzzle you’ve been fitting together all night. There are still pieces missing but you start to see the image. Sevika is soft. Sevika is emotional. Sevika is passionate. It's a passion that's been simmering, waiting to be reheated to the boiling point.

“Sevika,” you whisper against her lips, “All that beauty you have inside… Let it out.”

She trembles as she pulls you back to the kiss. She let out a soft moan as her eyes fluttered beneath her lids, your kisses making her skin prick with goosebumps. Your fingers running through her hair felt so comforting. Sevika loved giving pleasure for years, something she knows she's good at. Something she used to box herself into doing for years.

With Zaun on course for war, Sevika lost so much. It's why she went to the brothel in the first place. Needing somewhere to go to make Piltover stop existing. But somehow during the years she dedicated her life to Silco, she became so focused on one goal to see her through every decision she made, all her other wants got pushed away. She forgot how long it's been since she’s been shown tenderness. She forgot how long it's been since she was something other than a brute. In all the years of coming to the brothel trying to escape the knowledge of her life, she never escaped being Silco’s goon. But right now she is in your arms and you are kissing her with tenderness and care and beauty. You’re kissing her the way she deserves.

You’re startled by a bell, the timer on the wall meant to let you know your session has finished. Against your wants, you separate yourself from her. You cannot begin playing favorites and go against the rules for Sevika.

“I’m sorry but after the bell I cannot service you any further. But I can walk you out,” you offer, not quite ready to depart.

Sevika is catching her breath, staring at you with soft, sparkling eyes. It's the look you always strive for from your clients. The look that someone’s felt intimacy after having lost it. She's so beautiful it makes it so hard to follow the rules.

“Come on. Gotta get you outta here or I’ll have to start charging you,” you urge.

“Sorry” she stutters, still panting.

“It’s okay. It’s my responsibility to keep track of the time and give you time to recover. This is on me,” you tell her.

Sevika stands, struggling to maintain balance. She walks to the curtain, turning to give you one last glance.

“That was perfect. Wouldn’t want my hour any other way,” she thanked.

“Good. You’re welcome, Sevika.”

You walk with her to the door and watch as she disappears into the streets. For the first time, Sevika leaves the brothel without at least some level of grinding. This was the least sexual encounter she's had to pay for. But it's the most fulfilled she’s ever felt afterward. She feels whole and at peace.

It's been almost one day since Sevika’s first session. Almost 24 hours since you kissed her like she is the most beautiful person in the world. The day was slow for you, just three clients so far. Most of your day was spent planning outfits and reviewing your next week's schedule. You sigh as it looks like you'll also spend your last two hours trying to pass time when Miguel taps you on the shoulder.

“Your last two hours have been booked,” he informs you, “Sevika.”

Your heart reacts before you do. Outwardly, you nod and thank him. On the inside, you can feel the ghost of Sevika's warmth.

“Is she here now?” You try not to sound excited but Miguel sees through you. It's an expected reaction, he's even seen girls jump with joy when he tells them they're booked for Sevika.

“The gold room,” he says, tilting his head toward the hallway.

You thank him again and speed walk down the hall, shoving the curtain open when you arrive. Sevika is sitting on the circular bed in the middle of the room, fingers tracing over the quilt.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly. She reaches her hand out, and you walk over to her and take it. She pulls you in to straddle her lap, needing to recreate the moment from last night. She is even warmer than you remember. Her head buries into your shoulder and she swears it's remolded to fit her head perfectly.

“I left here the best I've felt in a long time. I need that feeling again,” she confesses into your shoulder.

“I'll do everything to give you that feeling again. Is there anything you want specifically?”

“I want you. Wanna see what happens in the moment.”

You support her jaw in your hand and tilt it toward you to pull her into a kiss. Sevika immediately pushes into the kiss, lips desperately moving against yours. There's something different today, something that begs for more than tenderness. You kiss her, trying to pull away at what she wants.

Sevika groans into your mouth, and your tongue slides into her mouth, tasting her. You don't push far, waiting for her reaction. She grabs your hips with her right hand. She seems to favor it, which is understandable considering her mech hand is a giant claw. She flips the two of you over, pressing you down into the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and Sevika climbs over to straddle your hips.

“Sorry I just… I want you so much,” she groaned, leaning down to trail her lips across your jaw before moving down and kissing your neck. Then a soft bite, followed by gently sucking on the skin she bit. She needs you.

“Never apologize. I want this just as much,” you moan beneath her, loving the switch between needy Sevika that pleads to be kissed and desperate Sevika that takes what she needs. You tangle your fingers into her hair, holding her against your neck. She continues to lick and kiss at your skin, switching back and forth between firm and soft kisses.

After a few minutes, her fingers dig under the hem of your shirt, pulling it from your skin. You part from the kiss to give her a nod, lifting your back off the bed so she can pull your shirt off. She stares down at you and her mind is at war with itself. She wants to jump right in with you, know what it's like to feel this closeness paired with the euphoria of sex. She also wants to savor kissing you.

“Sevika, finish what you started please,” you shiver, dissatisfied with only having your shirt off while she stares at you with hungry, lustful eyes.

She complies, stripping off the rest of your clothes, kissing the skin she exposes as she removes each garment. All of her kisses have left enough intimacy and warmth to last you a lifetime. But your night is far from over.

“Strip me,” Sevika gasps, hauling you up off the bed to stand with her. You carefully remove her clothes, peeling back layer after layer. Sevika is covered in muscles, her skin barely restraining them. Scars split her skin, some cutting into her skin. Others discolored and raised. All of her is exquisite. Even though you’re the worker and she is the client, you find yourself needing her. You need her to touch you.

You grasp her hand and lead her back to the bed. You guide her so the two of you kneel at the center of the bed. You guide her hand, sucking two fingers into your mouth, wetting them before trailing them down your torso. You trace her wet fingers to your cunt then release her hand and she feels over your folds. Her fingers pass over your clit before moving down to enter you. She slides one long finger into you and you grip her shoulders, whimpering for her. Her finger pumps inside of you, against the sensitive spot within, and she feels you flutter and clench in response. Each pump wettens her fingers even more and makes an obscene, sinful sound.

“Another,” you whine, needing as much of her as you can get.

Sevika obeys and another finger enters you, sliding in easily. She moves her fingers in and out at a slow place, building the tension higher and higher. Making your skin grow hotter and hotter. Everytime she fully inserted her fingers back into you, you cannot help but gasp.

“You feel so perfect,” she praised you as she kept thrusting her long fingers. Your brain melts a little from the praise. Her fingers moved faster and you began to roll your hips desperately. You still moan in time with her thrusts, occasionally chanting out a little “uh uh uh fuck yes”. You feel your orgasm creeping up on you and so does Sevika.

“We didn’t talk about it but.. Do you wanna cum now or can I edge you?” she gasps, still fucking her fingers into you.

You feel a tingle run through your body, dizzying you with lust, “Yes. please,” you mewl.

“Tell me when you’re close,” she huffs. She thumbs over your clit, rubbing the bud in circles as her fingers curl inside you. She reacts to each of your moans, thrusting harder when you choke out a gasp. Your orgasm continues to build, pleasure layering inside of your waiting to topple down.

“Almost there, Sevika. Please,” you whine, grasping her shoulders. He quickens her thumb’s circling of your clit and it pushes you closer to release.

“I’m going to cum!” you cry, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Sevika removes her fingers and you feel yourself being placed back on top of the cliff the moment before you fall. The tension she’s built retreats in a way you’ve always found addicting.

“Good boy,” she coos, lifting her hand up to press her fingers to your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and you groan at the praise. With one hand you grab her wrist and with the other you cup her neck. You shove her fingers into her mouth instead, pushing her head further onto her hand.

Sevika shuts her eyes, savoring the taste and feeling of her fingers on her tongue. You see her eyes roll back beneath her lids. She licks all of your arousal away, tongue swirling over her fingers. Too soon the taste is gone and she is left wanting more. You gave her so many things to want.

She pushed you, your back hitting the bed. She spreads your legs and you quickly recover from being edged, ready for her again. As she lays down between your thighs, you grip her hair, leading her to your waiting cunt.

Sevika wastes no time, burying her face between your thighs. Her tongue parts your folds, licking up to flick your clit. She lifts her head to reposition and you see the string of spit that connects you. She dips back down, sucking on your labia. The world tilts, leaving you hanging onto her for dear life. She explores you with deliberate slowness, licking over every twitch of your clit. Your hips push forward to get more of her mouth on you. She responds immediately, her tongue flicking in just the right way. Another orgasm begins to build as she sucks and kisses your clit.

“I’m almost there,” you warn her, in case she wants to edge you again.

Sevika doesn’t relent, and you try to hold on. You can feel it in her touch, each kiss to your folds, she wanted you to let go. She wants you to enjoy her, not as a client but as herself. Sevika felt the moment you relented, relaxing your hips so she could grab and pull you where she wanted. Your body trembles and your breaths are ragged as she builds you up again, carefully layering your orgasm up to be perfect. And it is.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” you cry, slapping a hand over your mouth when you begin to wail. You back arches off of the bed but Sevika holds your hips in place. Your other hand leaves her hair to clap over your mouth, both hands muffling your cries.

Your orgasm is like the tiny rays of light that manage to make it to the Undercity. The sparkling proof that life will find you in the oddest places. Tears pour from your eyes as the light consumes you. Usually your clients are the one that cry, the vulnerability of sex catching up with them. It was always beautiful to you, seeing their humanity come out. But you never experienced it yourself. The flood of safety and joy. You always told your clients that crying after orgasm is nothing more than a fleeting reaction. But this was not fleeting. The tears were just the tip of the iceberg of yourself that were begging to be explored.

When your orgasm ends and your body relaxes into the bed, Sevika crawls up your body, kissing you with your cum. Her mouth and nose are covered in your slick and she spreads it over your face as she kisses you. She cups your cheeks and wipes your tears away.

“Now you know how I felt,” she whispers against your lips.

“Please, I need to make you feel that way. I need to give it to you,” you plead. She cannot give you the most beautiful orgasm in the world and not let you return the favor.

“You don’t need to try. You already make me feel that way.”

“No. I need you to cum for me and feel it. It’s like you unlocked something in me. Let me do the same for you. Please Sevika. You deserve it.” Those words break her. Everytime Sevika thinks she cannot find something new with you, you prove her wrong. There’s still a part of her that needs to be held. A vulnerability that still needs to be reached.

“Get the strap,” she pants, flopping over so she is laying on her back. As you locate the harness, a dildo, and lube, Sevika sets pillows under her back. You step into the harness and tighten the straps onto your hips before securing the dildo into the ring. You crawl over to Sevika, kneeling between her parted legs.

She is beautiful, arousal dripping in beads past her brown folds. Thighs shivering as you squirt lube into your hand and stroke it over your dick. You lean over her, grasping her hand in one of your own while using the other to guide your dick to her cunt.

“You do absolutely amazing things to me. I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” she whimpers, tears already pricking her eyes.

“You don’t have to know why. Just believe me when I say you do,” you assure her. You push your hips forward, entering her slowly. Sevika’s legs wrap around your waist, pulling you further into her. You try to pull your hips away to fuck her but her legs keep you locked inside of her.

“Do you need a moment?” you ask her, stroking her cheek.

Her eyes dart around, trying to find the right answer, “I think… I’m not ready to give in.” she bites her lip in shame and you pull her lip from her teeth with your thumb.

“That’s okay. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. We can do something else. Can I pull out?”

She shakes her head, “I still want this. I want you inside me I just.. I can’t give up,” she cries, tears falling from her eyes.

“Hey hey hey, if you can’t give, then take,” you offer. It hurts you to see her falling apart after so much progress. But you wouldn't watch her retreat. When she releases her leg lock on you, you tell her you’re going to pull out. She nods and you slowly remove yourself from her, “What do you want? You don’t have to tell me right away. You still have an hour.”

Sevika thinks for a moment, for how she can have you feel that vulnerability without handing it over too quickly. It was a sudden scary feeling, the knowledge that she was right there. She felt ashamed for running from the feeling. How could she still be with you if she can’t relent? You said she could take but she was always a giver with pleasure.

“Can I.. Can I ride you?” she asks. She honestly didn’t even know that’s what she was going to ask for, she just spoke from the heart.

“Absolutely. Tell me how you want me,” you coax.

“Lay down?”

You lay on your back and she straddles your hips, she's still shivering from nerves.

“Sevika, you don’t have to if you’re not ready,” you assure her. You couldn’t let her do something she didn’t really want. You have half a mind to safeword and just hold her the rest of the session.

“I’m scared but.. I’m ready. I’m so fucking scared of what I’ll feel,” she admits, sniffling.

“It’s normal to be scared. I’m right here, Sev. I made you a promise with that contract that I will always take care of you.”

At your words she dives down and presses her lips to your, kissing you messily. She grabs your hand and places it onto her hip then takes your dick and aligns it with her cunt. Sevika whines as she sinks slowly, needing to take her time.

“You’re doing amazing. Such a good boy,” you urge, and she whimpers as you praise her.

She rolls her hips in experimental circles, getting a feel for how much she can take. When she lifts her hips, your dick slides past her g-spot and it helps her understand. It's a little taste of the feeling you had, and she wasn’t scared of it anymore. She drops her hips again and it coaxes a small moan out of you as the strap bumps your clit. She wants to hear more. Sevika lifts her hips and slams back down, your hips jerk up at the force of hers. She sinks over and over onto you, your hips bucking up to meet her.

“Good fucking boy, taking your pleasure. Just like you deserve."

Sevika groaned, “No, you’re my good boy. Making me feel special and whole.”

“You’re so fucking special,” you moaned.

Sevika grabs the back of your head and helps you sit up. You hold her face as she drops onto your dick, gasping out moans.

For the first time. Sevika doesn't try to lose herself in the sex. She finds herself. When you hold her and tell her how perfect she is, how much you want her, she feels connected in a way she never has before. Before now, it was an act. Something she needed to do for release and settling for any face to fill her needs. She’d come for sex for years, but you gave her intimacy. While staring into her eyes, you find an agreement there. That no matter what, you're not going to let her go. You're all she has right now to hold onto the world. You hold her head, stroking her cheeks with your thumbs. Tears fall onto your fingertips and you smooth them away. Sevika reached up to hold your hand against her cheek. Sevika is shivering, every cell buzzing with need. But the need was beyond touch or feeling, it's a need of belonging. Every part of Sevika knew she belonged here, grinding onto your dick while looking into your eyes.

“Don't look away. I need you to keep looking at me like that,” she pleads.

“No. Never. I need you too. Shit, I need you.”

Sevika cums, dripping down your dick and into your lap. It sticks to your thighs and mixes with your own arousal that's been leaking from you since she first sank onto you. Sevika feels like she could breathe underwater, surrounded by peace and comfort without a worry in the world. You watch as her body shakes with the overflow of emotion, feelings of trust and intimacy mixing with warmth and satiation from her orgasm. You feel her fingers tighten on your hand and you don’t let her go. When her eyes open, you wipe away each other's tears.

She lifts her hips to release you from her and flops down on your chest. You kiss her hair and stroke her cheek.

“Sevika, I’m so proud of you. Most beautiful orgasm I’ve ever seen,” you whisper into her hair.

Sevika nuzzles her head into your chest, cuddling to you for more comfort. With that, the last piece of your puzzle is placed, and she becomes clear. Sevika is nowhere near loved as much as she should be. As much as Babette insisted that love has no place in the brothel, the existence of Sevika made the statement untrue. Sevika needed love so badly, and you needed to give it to her.

“What do you want for aftercare, love?” you ask her, testing out a new pet name. Sevika sighs into your chest and wraps her flesh arm over you, deepening the cuddle.

“Hold me and tell me you’ll always take care of me.”

You press another kiss to her hair and wrap your arms over her, “Sevika, I’m going to take care of you no matter what. Sexually, emotionally, any way you need. You need so much love and I’ll be here to give you as much as I can. I just hope it's close to what you need.”

divider by @cafekitsune

#sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #sevika x you #butch4butch sevika #i love sevika

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inkedinshadows · 3 months ago

Text

Under the Summer Sun

Pairing: Azriel x Summer Court!reader

Summary: Azriel's mate takes him on a little vacation in the Summer Court, where she introduces him to a shocking tradition of her home court.

Warnings: none

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: I have one thing to say about this one, and it's that I had no idea where I was going when I started writing. I had a general idea, and that was it. Everything else came to me thanks to little sleep, lot of coffee, too many classes, and missing summer. This fic is really silly and I have no idea how it became this long tbh

@azrielappreciationweek

Azriel had been to the Summer Court many times, but never on vacation. He had gone on missions, of course, and to check in with his informants stationed there. Then there was that one time with his family, which had resulted in a wrecked building and Cassian's consequent ban. The last time he'd been here, it was to defend Adriata against Hybern.

And now, he was here with you. Somehow, you had managed to convince him to take a whole week off. Maybe it had something to do with you batting your long lashes at him, knowing he could never say no when you looked so cute. Or perhaps it was because you had already talked to Rhys, who had agreed that his brother needed some time to relax.

Either way, Azriel was glad you had convinced him. You were staying in your family's vacation house in a little town south of Adriata. The first day was spent in bed, cuddling and making love, getting up only to eat—as you had done years ago after accepting the mating bond. On the second day, you showed him the town and the places where you had grown up. But today would be a surprise. You had refused to tell him exactly what you'd be doing, claiming only that it was a common custom in the Summer Court.

“Are you ready, my love?”

Your voice came from behind the bathroom door, and Azriel glanced at his reflection in the mirror one last time. His half-naked self stared back. You had given him a simple piece of clothing to put on, and you’d been very clear about wearing only that.

Azriel was confused.

It looked like underwear, but it was too long, reaching his mid-thigh, and it was a bit looser around his legs. The deep blue fabric was unusual—soft yet a bit thicker than his regular underwear, and elastic. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but he didn’t understand why you wanted him to wear such a thing. It wasn’t alluring or anything like that. At least, he didn’t think it was.

With a sigh, he opened the door. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure—”

His words died on his tongue as his eyes settled on you. Standing in the center of the bedroom, you were wearing a new set of lingerie he had never seen before. The fabric seemed similar to the one he was wearing, but yours was a shade of cerulean blue that complemented your dark skin. It hugged your curves perfectly, tight enough to cover yet revealing in all the right ways.

“So?” you asked with a smile, spinning around so he could see you even better. “What do you think?”

Azriel closed the distance between you in two long strides, and his hands immediately found your exposed waist.

“You're breathtaking, my love,” he murmured, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. He could never get enough of you—your smooth skin, your soft body, your scent. And whenever you surprised him with something like this, his head felt as if it were spinning.

“I'm glad you like it.” You looked down at your body, brushing your fingertips over the hem of your bra. Azriel wanted to kiss the spot where the fabric met your skin. “It's been years since I last got to wear one of these.”

He had to suppress his rising desire to focus on your words. He frowned at the hint of melancholy that laced your tone. “What do you mean? You can wear it whenever you want.” His fingers pressed slightly into your flesh as he leaned down to whisper directly in your ear. “You look ravishing, sweetheart.”

He felt your body react to his words and touch as it always did—relaxing in his hold, leaning imperceptibly closer. But there was a playful smile on your lips when you asked, “What do you think this is, Az?”

Azriel's frown deepened. “New underwear?”

You hummed, amusement glinting in your eyes. But instead of answering, you slipped out of his grasp. “Let me take a good look at you.”

He grew more confused by the second. You studied him, eyes focused on what looked more like short pants than boxers. Yet there was no hint of desire on your face. Your gaze didn't roam over his body with that intensity that made heat bloom in his lower stomach. You didn't bite your bottom lip, didn't reach out to touch the bare muscles of his chest, and your breath didn't catch as it always did when you wanted him.

“You look so handsome,” you said eventually. Your gaze finally met his, and your amused smile widened at his confusion. “We can go now.”

Azriel blinked, but you were already heading for the door, grabbing a bag from the floor on your way out.

He immediately trailed after you, following you downstairs. His shadows swarmed around him, flying over to tangle in the ends of your hair as if trying to coax an answer out of you. But even they couldn't read minds, and you didn't offer an explanation.

“Go where?” he questioned, watching you put your slippers on. What did you even need shoes for?

“The beach,” you answered, as if it were obvious.

Azriel just stared at you. He was waiting for a punchline or a joke, because surely you couldn't be serious. But when you arched a brow, that smirk still playing on your lips, he realized you weren't joking.

“What do you mean?” he asked then.

“This is not underwear, Az,” you finally explained in an amused tone. “They're swimsuits. Mine's called a bikini, and yours are swim trunks.” You lifted the bag in your hand as if to prove your point. “I have beach towels. We're going to the beach.”

He gaped at you. “You really mean to tell me you want to go outside wearing…” He glanced down at himself, then at you. “Just this?” he finished.

“That's exactly what I'm telling you.” You shrugged, as if the thought of walking around with just a scrap of clothing didn't bother you at all.

“There's no way you're going out dressed like that,” he said firmly. “You're basically naked.”

“I'm not naked!” You sounded outraged, but he could see you were trying not to laugh. “I'm wearing a bikini.”

Azriel crossed his arms. He had never once told you what you could or couldn't wear, and he didn't want to start now. But a revealing dress or a plunging neckline were different from… this. The thought of everyone seeing you with nothing more than two small pieces of fabric made his jaw clench.

“How is it any different from going out wearing underwear?” he pressed.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, falling silent for a moment. “I don't know,” you mumbled. “It's just socially acceptable here to go to the beach like this.”

He thought he was getting through to you, that he just needed to push a bit more and then you'd see how inappropriate it was. Instead, you stood straighter again and adjusted the bag on your shoulder.

“Come on, Az,” you said, your voice low and inviting. “It'll be fun. I've done this a thousand times already. I promise you, it's totally normal here.”

Azriel knew what you were doing. You thought that if you used that tone, if you batted your lashes and looked at him with your big doe eyes, he would cave. Normally, he would. He could hardly say no to you. But he couldn't stand the thought of someone else seeing his mate clad only in underwear. Bikini. Whatever it was called.

“Y/N, that's not the point. I—”

Before he could finish, your lips curled into a mischievous smirk, and you suddenly turned and bolted out the front door before he could catch you.

Cursing under his breath, Azriel quickly slipped on his shoes and followed you outside, not caring about his own underdressed state.

You hadn't gone far, not with those slippers that made running nearly impossible. He caught up to you just as you turned the corner, his hand grabbing your arm, his shadows swirling around both of you to hide your indecent state.

You stopped in your tracks and pointed to the beach just at the end of the short street. “Look,” you said simply.

Azriel did, and his eyes widened at what was probably one of the most shocking sights he'd ever seen.

There weren't many people, but you were right. Everyone—males and females, High Fae or lesser faeries, even the few children—was wearing the so-called swimsuits. And no one paid anyone else a second glance. Everyone minded their own business, either lying on towels or swimming. Some of the children were playing in the sand.

His shadows dimmed under the sunlight, halting their swirling around your bodies and disappearing completely soon after.

“Is it really that normal here?” he asked, a hint of surprise still in his voice. His gaze slowly returned to you.

“This is the Summer Court, Az,” you replied with a chuckle. “What kind of people would we be if we didn't enjoy our sea in this heat?” You took his hand, giving it a gentle tug to make him follow as you began walking again. “Come on. You're a big Illyrian. Don't tell me you're shy.”

Despite his lingering shock, Azriel couldn't help the smile spreading across his face. “It's not that.”

He had never had a problem with nakedness. He'd seen plenty over the centuries, enough not to be bothered by it. It was the idea of willingly wearing nothing more than underwear—and he wouldn't let you convince him that it was anything other than that—and going out in public. More specifically, it was the idea of his beautiful mate going out in public like that. It was a sight usually reserved just for him, and he didn't want to share it with anyone.

“Fine.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “If someone looks at me the wrong way, you can bash his teeth out. Is that better?”

He knew you were joking, but the fact that you were aware of his concern and the way you dismissed it so lightheartedly actually helped him relax.

“It is, yes,” he confirmed, only half-joking. He wouldn't actually do it unless it was an extreme situation, and he knew you could hold your own without his help, but still. He couldn't suppress the protective—and possessive, if he was being honest—streak that was only emphasized by your bond.

“See, this is why I didn't tell you what we'd be doing today,” you teased. You had reached the beach now, and you led him to an empty spot away from the others before letting go of his hand. “Because you wouldn't have agreed.”

Azriel couldn't deny that you were right. It would have taken a lot of convincing and persuasion to get him to agree to this.

Or maybe just your smile.

You took off your slippers and buried your bare feet in the white sand, wiggling your toes through the grains. You breathed in the scent of sea and salt in the air, your eyes closed. And the soft, fond smile that graced your lips as you reconnected with your homeland court made him fall in love with you all over again. It was a smile he’d do anything to see, and Azriel made a mental note to bring you to the Summer Court more often.

He followed your lead and slipped off his shoes. The sand was warm under his soles, and the morning sun heated his tanned skin. He even spread his wings a little, basking in the sensation.

“So, what do we do now?” he asked after a moment.

Your eyes opened, and you crouched down to open the bag you’d dropped on the ground. “Now we set the towels down,” you answered, pulling one out and handing it to him. “It’s probably too small for you, but I don’t have a beach towel for overgrown bats, so…”

Azriel shook his head, used to your endless teasing. You chuckled softly, and after you both placed your towels on the sand—his was, indeed, too small—you took his hand again, walking backward toward the shore and pulling him along.

“Now we go swimming,” you declared, then paused, a small frown creasing your brow. “You do know how to swim, right?”

It was Azriel’s turn to chuckle. “Of course I can swim, sweetheart. I just don’t remember the last time I had to.”

“Well, then,” you said with a smile, rising on your toes to kiss him, “let’s go make some memories.”

Without waiting for a response, you ran into the ocean with a delighted squeal and dove in, water splashing around you. Azriel didn’t move immediately, and simply watched as you emerged, eyes bright and smile wide.

You were the picture of joy.

The last time he had seen you this happy was probably at your mating ceremony, when you had appeared in that stunning teal and gold dress, looking like a vision. And now, as you stood in the water, Azriel was suddenly grateful you had brought him here. Droplets trickled down your body, your brown skin glistening in the sunlight as you moved your wet hair out of your face.

You beckoned him with a hand, and his feet moved of their own accord, guiding him toward you. He inhaled sharply as the cold water reached his thighs, sloshing around his wings. He didn't know how you could look so at ease when he was shivering, but you were in your element after all, while he was completely out of his.

“Aw,” you cooed as he reached you. “Is my little bat cold?”

Azriel grimaced, his tone playful as he pulled you closer. “First you call me an overgrown bat, and now I’m a little one?”

Your wet body pressed against his still-dry chest, and your hair dripped water onto his tattooed skin as you looked up at him. “Well, yes,” you confirmed, stating it as if it were an obvious fact. “Illyrians are overgrown bats, but you’re my little bat.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know I’m a head taller than you, right? I’m not little.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then you closed it without saying a word. Azriel could see the wheels turning in your head as you stepped away from him, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

“What is it?” he asked, knowing that expression all too well. “What did you just think?”

“There's this thing my father always did when I was a child,” you explained. “I loved it, and now I want you to do it too.”

After all the crazy ideas you'd hit him with over the years—this beach day being the latest—Azriel wasn't sure he wanted to know what you were talking about now, but he still lifted a brow. “And said thing is…?”

Your smile widened. “Throw me in the water.”

Azriel frowned. He must have heard that wrong. “What?”

But you nodded enthusiastically, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hips. “Pick me up and throw me in the water. You're strong enough to do it, c'mon.”

His fingers tightened on your hips, but he still wasn't convinced. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you love me and I asked nicely?” you tried, batting your lashes at him.

Azriel chuckled. “I do love you, but you did not ask nicely.” He pulled you closer, his fingers brushing the hem of your panties. Gods, it still felt like underwear to him, and all he wanted was to take them off. “You ordered me to do it.”

You laughed with him. “Sorry about that.” Pulling him down, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Love of my life, my mate, my everything, will you please be so kind as to use your beautiful, strong muscles to pick me up and throw me in the water? It's fun, and I’d really appreciate it.”

He knew you were teasing, but his heartbeat quickened with every word of flattery, even after all these years. “You are unbelievable,” he mumbled, stealing another kiss.

Though he still didn't understand how it could be fun, and wasn’t sure if he even liked the idea, his hands slid up to your waist. He lifted you effortlessly, water cascading off your body as he hoisted you out of the ocean. He hesitated for a moment, but when he saw your excited smile, he threw you back into the water, expecting you to twist midair and gracefully dive in. You had the agility and flexibility for it. He knew you could do it.

But you didn’t.

You let yourself plummet straight into the ocean, your laughter swallowed by the water as you plunged in, splashing it all around. The water was so clear he could see you sink for a moment before you kicked your legs and emerged, grinning from ear to ear.

Azriel stopped questioning whether it was fun or not. It didn't matter if it was childish and silly. After all, he still had snowball fights with his brothers.

All that mattered was the joy written on your face, and as he made his way over to you, he found himself wishing he had a place like this—somewhere he cherished returning to, a place filled with memories of a happy childhood.

“You probably think I'm crazy,” you said as you treaded water. He could still touch the seabed here, but it was now too deep for you.

“A little,” he admitted with a smile. “But as long as it makes you happy, love.”

You looped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer as his hands found their way back to your hips. Pressing your body against his, you rubbed the tip of your nose against his. “There’s something else that would make me happy right now,” you murmured, gazing into his eyes.

Azriel’s smile widened as he leaned in for a kiss, but before he knew it, you had pulled him under the surface. He had adjusted to the water’s temperature by now, but the sudden, full submersion still made him shiver. His first instinct was to break the surface and take a deep breath—something he would have done already if only you had told him what you were planning. Before he could, though, you used your magic to create a bubble of oxygen around the two of you, allowing him to breathe.

“So drowning your mate is what makes you happy?” he asked skeptically.

“Sorry about that,” you chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief. “But the surprise on your face was priceless.”

Azriel lifted a brow, readjusting his wings. It had been so long since the last time he was underwater that it took a moment to remember how to position them properly, preventing himself from floating back up.

You laughed, your hair swirling around you like a shimmering, silver crown inside the bubble.

“No, but it was fun,” you answered. You cupped his face, kicking your feet to swim just a little closer to him. “What would really make me happy is something I’ve always wanted to do, but I need to let the bubble disappear. I promise I’ll summon it again as soon as we’re done.”

Azriel frowned slightly, but he had an idea of what you wanted to do. He could only hope he was right, because he had a feeling you wouldn’t explain it if he asked.

He nodded, and with that, you called back your magic. Water rushed around you again, but this time he inhaled deeply before it was too late. And then you proved his suspicions correct.

You pulled him in for a kiss, and he tasted the salty water on your lips. His hands settled gently on the sides of your neck, keeping you close. As you both kicked your legs to stay submerged, Azriel understood why you wanted to do this. It felt intimate, like you were the only two beings in the entire ocean.

It reminded him of the way kissing you felt when he was flying with you cradled in his arms—the world faded away, shrinking until nothing existed but the two of you.

It lasted only a few seconds, but when you parted, both of you were smiling. As promised, you summoned another bubble as soon as your lips left his.

“That was nice,” he murmured, his voice soft.

“Good, because we’ll definitely do it again.” You stole another quick kiss before pointing toward the endless expanse of the ocean. “I want to go swimming. Do you want to come or would you rather head back to the beach?”

Azriel shook his head. “No, I want to come with you.”

“Perfect.” Your smile widened, and you gestured for him to follow as you turned around. “Then I want to show you the reef.”

He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he tucked his wings in tightly, kicking his legs to keep up with you. Never in his long life had he imagined that he’d one day find himself swimming in the Summer Court, wearing little more than a piece of underwear. But life with you was always full of surprises, and he had no doubt this wouldn’t be the last.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

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sillysillygoofygoose · 2 years ago

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Older! Boyfriend Toji Headcanons

MDNI! (Slightly) EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!

Soft headcanons:

Older! Toji, who adores the huge size difference between the two of you. He loves how you tilt your head back to look at him or stand on your tippy toes, pushing on his shoulders, just to kiss his cheek.

Older! Toji, who has a ton of money (shout out to broke ass Toji, though 😔). You have no idea what he does for a living. You're pretty sure it isn't something totally legal, like accounting, but whatever. He doesn't mention it and you don't ask. His favorite thing to do is turn you spoiled rotten. He constantly takes you on shopping trips, although his attitude is astronomical, only letting himself smirk when you thank him for buying you a cute little sundress.

"That one's real cute, baby."

"Yeah, bub, that color is really nice."

"Just buy 'em both, I'll take you somewhere nice to show them off."

He can barley constrain himself from pinning you against the dressing room wall and pushing the faint yellow fabric of the dress away from your skin, tasting you through your little lace panties.

Older! Toji whose love language is quality time and physical touch. No matter what he's doing, he needs to have you next to him. He never thought he'd fall so hard for someone, yet here we are...

"Toji, baby please, I'm trying to cook dinner." Toji only tightens his grip around your waist.

"I know, pretty. Just want to feel you." He responded, hooking his chin over your shoulder, peering at the vegetable you were currently mutilating.

"That's definitely not how you cut garlic." You feel him turn his head, smirking into your neck.

"Shut up."

Older! Toji, who would never, EVER let you drive him anywhere. You're forever stuck as a passenger princess. Hell would have to freeze over before Toji would let you be responsible for transporting him somewhere. This includes the time he accidentally shot himself in the upper thigh (long story 🙄) and REFUSED to let you drive to the hospital. You belong in the passenger seat, and his big hand belongs rested on your thigh, gently squeezing the squishy flesh from time to time.

Older! Toji, who pays for your bi-weekly manicures.

"What about these?" You tilt your phone screen towards him, showing him the set of acrylics you saved to your pinterest board earlier that week.

"Hmm, very nice." He flashed you a small smile of approval before grabbing your hand, kissing each knuckle.

They'd look so small and delicate wrapped around his dick.

Older! Toji whose most embarrassing secret is his love-hate relationship with the Kardashians. At first it was baffling... he doesn't even look like he'd know who they are. However, this man is INVESTED. You heard it here first. He lives for the pettiness of it all.

"What the fuck is Khloé's problem now?"

Toji strolls into the living room where you're perched on the couch, eyes glued to the new episode of 'The Kardashians'. He huffs, plopping down next to you.

"She always acts like she's some mediator for Kim and Kourtney, but she's an instigator. Always whining and complaining about something." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You laugh, humming in agreement.

His favorite thing to rag on them about is their baby names.

"North West? That's a fucking direction."

Older! Toji, who holds you at night. Feeling your chest rise and fall rhythmically with his is the most comforting feeling in the world. He never falls asleep before you, finding peace only when you've found yours. He only becomes sappy after midnight, the loneliness of a quiet bedroom forcing him to face his emotions. Once he's positive you're passed out for the night, he moves his hand from your upper back to your head, gently stroking back stray strands of hair that were previously covering your precious face.

"You looked so beautiful today. I need to tell you that more." He whispered.

"I'm so lucky to have such a sweet girl all to myself."

"I love you so much. More than anything."

Older! Toji, who sees you as his entire world. Scratch that, his entire universe.

Hope you enjoyed! xoxo

#fem reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk #Spotify #size difference #age difference

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xoxxbilliexoxx · 24 days ago

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Have Your Way With Me

You strap Billie for the first time. Nerves are high so Billie starts on top, but things don’t stay like that for long.

***this is a chapter from my wattpad book, so there is an established relationship. The previous chapter was about Reader teaching Billie how to do pottery so there will be mentions of messy clay in this story… just so you aren’t confused.

Y/N POV

“Fine but you better hurry, there's a nasty image of you wearing a strap-on that I can’t get outta my head, wouldn’t want that to change before we get home” her previous words echoed in my head as I drove us home.

The car ride was thick with tension. Billie’s hand was wrapped tightly around my upper thigh, squeezing every so often and continuously wiggling in the passenger seat, squeezing her thighs together and very quietly whining as she did. My body was feeling the heat, with a loud thumping beginning between my legs. My head, on the other hand, only got more and more nervous as I got closer and closer to her house. I know I was excited to strap Billie when I first asked but now that she wants it, now that it’s really about to happen, I feel incredibly unqualified and absolutely terrified I won’t be able to deliver how she wants.

After getting home and taking shark out to do his thing, we wander to the bedroom, giggling and sharing memories of the previous hours while taking off our shoes. Using a wet washcloth I got in the bathroom, I sit Billie down on the bed and grab her chin, moving it around as I clean all the clay from her face. She smiles at me as my eyes land on hers, and we both freeze to take in the moment. She looks comfortable at the way I’m taking care of her, cleaning her up without her even having to ask. Once all of it is off of her face I move down to her neck, working to scrub the dried clay handprint off her skin. I can feel the heat coming off of her, filling the room and settling between us, so thick that even the smallest spark would engulf us in flames.

Her breathing gets heavier as I gently rub the towel against her neck. Once it’s all off I drop the rag and place kisses on the red marks that the rough fabric left on her delicate pale skin. As the kisses grow more heated we move up onto the bed. There’s no words exchanged but we both know what we want. Clay covered clothes get thrown around the room in a rush as our lips dance between each other. The way we undress, kissing and grabbing at each other in a rushed passion is just like what you see in the movies, something I never thought was actually real.

Hovering over her naked body, my fingers find her clit quickly. Spreading around her wetness, I am quick to give her what she asked for, using my fingers on her just like I did with my clay. She’s immediately a whimpering mess underneath me, moaning softly with each of her breaths. Her wet skin becomes my new medium as I work her as I please, moving her how I want her, staying in control. With each touch a whisper of pleasure is pulled from between her lips. Her eyes are tightly closed and her head moves from side to side as she lets the feelings of my erotic actions fill her mind. “uhhhhh, ohhhh, oh y/n, oh god” My lips suck in her nipple as she sighs out her quiet words. She’s exactly where I want her, hypnotized by the lightest of touches, caught in the world where all that can be felt is pleasure and need, where every nerve ending is lit up and her body is flooded with stars, tingling and vibrating from head to toe.

“Please mama, I want you to use the strap, I wanna know what it feels like to be taken by you” I nod with a slight hesitation as her words travel through me and land on my clit. I try my best to feign confidence but the fear slips through slightly in my body language. As I get up to retrieve it from her bedside table I work hard to quiet my brain, telling myself over and over that whatever might happen is okay, that Billie doesn’t expect me to be perfect with it right away.

“C’mere lemme help you put it on mama, it's confusing at first, I gotcha” I giggle as her words help disperse some of my fear. I get on the bed, on my knees in front of her as she sits against the headboard. “Take off your panties first, you want this on your bare skin, trust me” She smirks as she looks up at me, clearly finding my lack of experience cute. Once the harness is pulled up to my waist she moves me around, securing each of the straps to get everything snug and unable to move. I feel slightly powerful as the last strap gets adjusted. I like the feeling, I like the way I stand up tall with this on me.

When she adjusts the dildo to sit correctly it hits my clit and the unexpected sensation causes my knees to buckle and my air to escape in a loud sigh. She looks up and laughs at me, laughs at my face as I discover this new sensation. The intimacy of the moment doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s sweet, the way we both can feel a hint of nervous energy as we figure out this dynamic switch.

After getting it on me perfectly I work my way over to Billie, immediately connecting our lips once I’m close enough. The kiss heats up and as the horniness returns to my blood, the nerves start to loosen. Our lips passionately tangle together while our hands roam each other's naked skin. She pulls at my nipples, making me yelp into her mouth, the same mouth that my tongue so fiercely explores. My hands travel down, pulling my fingertips against her skin so slowly that I can feel each of her goosebumps emerging under my touch.

Her wetness feels cold against my skin as I drag my fingers between her folds, bringing them up to reunite with her clit. Her reactions are subtle, the arch of her back, the quiet gasp, the hum that comes after it. But the subtle displays of her pleasure make it all the more real; I know she's not performing, not doing it to show me I’m doing good, that she’s instead doing exactly what her body needs to do with the way my touch makes her feel. As I move her sensitive bud between my fingers she gets more and more worked up. Her cheeks mirror the color of a sweet pink rose, flushed and bright. Her eyelids are tightly closed and under them I can see her eyes rolling backwards. Her lips are pressed firmly together and an almost constant hum can be heard.

I move down and grab her hips to get her to lay a little flatter under me. Before I settle my waist between her legs I latch onto her boob, playing with each of them for a moment, knowing it would get both of us all the more worked up. My heart pounds loudly in my chest as the nervous energy courses through me. I wiggle down lower, and grab the tip of the dildo. With shaky hands I begin to rub it against her clit, pulling a louder whimper from her now. I want to show confidence, to make her feel like I did when she watched me work with the clay, but in reality I feel no where close to confident, and I know she can see that written all over my face.

Bille leans up to kiss me with a soft dominance, before flipping us over and getting on top of me. It doesn’t feel aggressive, it feels gentle, like she saw my lack of confidence and wants to take the lead. “Lemme start on top, let you get used to this while I make us both feel good, okay mama?” As she finishes her sentence she leans forward to kiss my forehead. I scoot myself up to rest my back on the headboard and watch as she mounts me. My eyes can’t decide where to land, moving all around her to try to permanently capture this moment in my brain. As she lines herself up with the faux cock attached to me, I feel an excitement take over.

Time stands still as I watch Billie lower herself onto me. Her pussy takes the dildo so effortlessly, sliding down and letting out a loud moan as she consumes me. As soon as her thighs hit mine, she's up again, bouncing slowly up and down. My mouth hangs open, engulfed in hot sparks as I watch how incredibly sexy she looks riding me. Her head is thrown back and her hands toy with her boobs as she makes herself feel good riding on my dick. I’m dizzy from the way this image feels settling in my mind.

My hands reach up to grab her waist and as she leans forward to meet my gaze I help her pick up speed, moving her up and down faster while my fingers dig into her soft milky skin. Her cries grow louder as she stares into my eyes. Her face is painted with pleasure; Her mouth hangs open in a large O shape, brows knitting together, and eyes glistening and fluttering shut each time I bottom out inside of her. Sweet moans pour from her with my own groans coming out each time I see her wetness coating the plastic dick.

 She’s beautiful, so insanely beautiful. Her long black hair falls past her shoulders in messy waves, perfectly contrasting the paleness of her soft freckled skin. Her face is indescribably perfect as it displays the way she feels. Her boobs move up and down with her body, a sight I never want to stop seeing, and her hourglass waist and thick hips fit perfectly in my hands as I continue bouncing her up and down on me. The sounds of her soft moans is the sweetest song she’s ever sung.

As we get more and more caught up in the moment I relax under her and begin to feel the pleasure of the strap against my clit. It’s much more intense than I imagined and I began to understand why Billie cums from this. My high is building fast, and the image of my sexy girlfriend riding my fake cock is making it all the more intense. When Billie sees how good this is making me feel she switches her movements, now moving back and forth. The sudden change makes us both groan loudly. With her eyes glued to mine and her lip pulled between her teeth, she watches as she brings me closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck Y/n, you feel so fucking good inside me, making me feel so good pretty girl” I nod my head and moan again as she shifts her hips forwards and hits my clit perfectly, yet again. She grabs my hands from her waist and moves them up to land on each of her boobs as she begins to speak, “Grab me baby, wanna feel ur fingers playing with my tits when you cum for me” My head hits the headboard as I throw it back. Everything about this moment spirals together; The base of the strap hitting my clit over and over, the feeling of Billie’s hard nipples between my fingertips and her soft boobs jiggling in my hands, the words she speaks to me, acting like a siren's call pulling me deeper into the ocean and getting me ready to explode, the image of her on top of me caught up in pleasure as her pussy takes this dick so perfectly. It all comes together and settles right at my core, forming a tight knot and with each of Billie's movements the tension only pulls tighter.

“Feels so good, feels so fucking good” she whines out her words and thats the last thing I need to be pushed over the edge. My legs shake under her and I feel all consumed by the lightning inside of me. I need more, need more power and need more sensation, so I grab her hips hard and begin moving her back and forth against me faster and faster while pushing my own hips up against her to create more pressure. “Yes baby, yes fuck I’m cumming, I’m cumming Billie fuck” The room is filled with our high pitched cries. I continue thrusting up towards her and forcing her hips back and forth against me, it happens so naturally, like the second I felt my orgasm hit me I knew how to fuck her. She falls forward, holding herself up with her arms on both sides of my head, gripping the headboard, and begins panting loudly as I thrust into her faster and harder from underneath. Her boobs sway in front of my face and I lean forward to suck on her nipple.

As my orgasm settles and I work to catch my breath, a feeling of power and a need to dominate Billie floods me. I grab her hips and lift her off of me before standing to my feet and yanking her by her ankles to the edge of the bed. The height of her bed is perfect, making her pussy line up with my waist as she lays at the edge. I feel a confidence building within me, or maybe it's such an intense hunger that I no longer have time to feel nervous or unsure of my actions. As I pull her towards me she yells and giggles, but the moment she sees me looking down at her it stops. I feel a intense need to fuck her, to make her scream and cum under me. I lean down and run my tongue from her Eilish tattoo all the way between her boobs and up her left collarbone. Her back arches and she gasps at the slowness of my tongue sliding across her skin. My hand wraps around her jaw and moves her head to the side. It's aggressive and dominating but not forceful. My teeth sink into her neck, right underneath her ear lobe and the harsh contact makes her groan.

After kissing and biting her earlobe I pull away just slightly and let my whispers dance against her skin. “Im gunna fuck you know, is that okay baby?” I nod as I look down at her, making it clear I wasn’t actually asking her, but telling her what was about to happen. The shift is clear, Billie is completely submitted to me, I am fully in control now, and her pleasure is all I can think about.

I lift her ankles to rest on both of my shoulders, finding her eyes filled with need as I look down at her. Her bright pink bottom lip is pulled completely between her teeth and her eyes are wide and full of begging. When I grab the base of my dick her eyes move to watch me. I rub the tip against her swollen clit, with each side to side movement she shutters under me, writhing and whining for more. “Want me to fuck you baby? is that what you need?” My words come out with a slight mocking tone but it only makes Billie submit to me more, whining and begging as a response to my question.

As I slide the strap into her we both groan. It's the sight that gets to me, the image of her glistening cunt taking me so well, wrapping around me and coating me with her sweet nectar. Her face is pushed together tightly as I pull out and push back in. When her eyes open they find mine. There’s a look of complete innocence, complete submission, to them. It only fuels me more. I begin thrusting in and out of her at a steady pace as I get used to the newness of my actions. “God this is so hot, you look so fucking hot taking me like this” My voice comes out as a low breath as I keep up with my thrusts. “Keep going, fuck please baby keep going” The way shes begging me, melting at the way I’m making her feel and needing me not to stop, it sends a chill down me and into my cunt. My heart throbs into my clit and my stomach is filled with butterflies as I watch her tits shake under me with each of my movements.

Her head is turned to the side and her eyes are closed with her eyebrows knitted together and her lips pursed tightly. I bend down, landing hard on the bed with my hands planted on each side of her head to prop me up. Her legs are still on my shoulders and her flexibility allows for her to bend with me as I lower myself. The new angle must feel good because her head turns to face me quickly and her mouth flies open to let out a loud moan. “That feel good? Is that your spot love?” I pull her in for a sloppy kiss before she can answer me. When her lips are still attached to mine I speed up my hips, fucking into her harder and faster. The sounds of her ass cheeks slapping against the front of my thighs and her sweet whimpers echoing in my mouth is all that can be heard.

As she pulls away from the kiss, no longer able to keep her composure well enough to kiss back, the very tops of our foreheads land against each other as we both look down to watch the way we so intimately are connected. Each time I pull back we can see her cum coating my plastic dick and each time I push back in we can hear the sounds of her wet cunt taking me so well. Billie looks up at me doe-eyed before grabbing one of my hands and moving it to wrap around her throat. My eyes go wide for just a moment, never expecting her to want to be this much of a sub, but once I really take in the sight of my hand wrapped around her throat and her pleading eyes begging me to keep going, I feel my blood heat up and the dominance course through me more intensely.

“Tell me how it feels Billie, need you to tell me how good I’m fucking you” I spit my words out aggressively but somehow still with a slight begging tone to them. She nods her head rapidly and messily, like she's drunk off the feeling of me inside of her. “F- Feels, F-FUck it feels so good, love, god, l- love the way your hand feels wrapped around my neck” “mmhhhmmmm I know mama, I know it feels so good huh?” I nod with her as I respond.

When I watch her snake one of her hands between our bodies and land on her clit, my abs clench and I feel my own cum leak further down my thighs. “Thats it, thats right mama, touch yourself just like that baby, need to see you cum for me” Her moans get louder as she plays with her clit. My fingers squeeze her throat just a bit tighter, interrupting her cries and getting them caught in her throat. I look down at her to make sure she's okay and when she sees my questioning eyes she nods, immediately easing my worry.

Suddenly the strap gets harder to move in and out as Billie clenches tighter around me. “Fuck Fuck fuckkk, gunna cum y/n, gunna cum, ur gunna make me ….Fuckkkkkkkk” her loud moans interrupt her sentence as she’s thrown over the edge, shaking and whimpering under me as we both continue our actions. “Yessss baby, yes good girl, cum for me thats it mama” I watch her fingers slow down, now wrapping very slow circles around her clit, and I use that as a sign to slow down my own thrusts. My hand lets go of her throat and I stand up tall again. She props herself up on her elbows as we both watch my slow steady movements in and out of her, watching the dildo move in with a loud gush and come back out coated in white.

Billie works hard to catch her breath and stop her shaking legs as I pull out and drop myself down to her again, kissing her softly all over her face and chest. After our lips dance together delicately for a brief moment I pull away and look down at her, unable to contain my smiles as I take in her effortless beauty. “Was that okay lovey?” I whisper out to her. “That was more than okay, you continue to amaze me baby, that was so fucking good” She kisses the tip of my nose then pulls me to lay flush against her as she wraps her arms around me tightly. “Hate how much you make me love being a damn bottom” She scoffs after she speaks and when I laugh she just groans louder. “Dont lie, you fucking love it” I giggle into her neck. “Yea yea, shut up” she giggles with me before pulling me in for another sweet kiss. “Can we take a nap, this shit is exhausting” I admit. “THANK YOU! Its so annoying to have to act like that isnt the craziest fucking work out” Her voice spills out with enthusiasm. I fiddle with the straps, unsuccessfully trying to free myself before she gets up to help me. “Told you it feels good to use the strap, told you it'll make you cum real fast” She looks up at me when she speaks and our eye contact feels intimate as we talk about our recent sex. “That shit feels too good, and the way you look when I fuck you, Jesus. Now I get why you wanna do this all the time” I say. “Fuck I shoulda never let you learn how amazing this is, this poor strap is about to be putting in overtime between the too of us” We both laugh loudly as we make our way under the covers, still completely naked and sweaty without an ounce of care, we can change the sheets and shower later, for now the only thing that matters is cuddles and sleep.

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