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welovelouisandbucky · 2 months ago

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You don't say it back

Summary: you prank your boyfriend by not saying "I love you" back, while he's getting late for quidditch practice.

Warnings: Fluff. Kissing (insert scandalised face) Few suggestive moments? Out of character stuff mayne? Seriously, none on this one, lol. Well, of course my writing, as usual. Not proof read.

S/n: positive criticism is appreciated as always. As well as any form of feedbacks, likes, comments or rebloggs. And be kind you guys, this is a safe place for everyone. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

Mattheo Riddle (with Hufflepuff!reader)

It was stupid and ridiculous.

You were just curious of his reaction, that is all.

You heard your friends' talking about doing this to their boyfriends for shits and giggles. At first, you hated the idea of tormenting your significant other for fun, then curiosity consumed your mind for weeks.

Now it seemed like a fun idea to prank your boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle.

You thought it was a perfect way to get back at your boyfriend for teasing you last week in The Great Hall. In your mind it was the perfect revenge.

So you made up your mind to put it into action as soon as you had the chance. Which was now, at his dorm room while he was about to leave for Quidditch practice with Theo.

You were excited as well as anxious for his reaction. Anticipation has been eating away your brain for days now and you were finally going to do it.

Mattheo came up to you and kissed your forehead as you remained sitted on his bed, with your books all splattered around before you.

"gimme a kiss, will you?" He grinned down at you, ignoring annoyed and impatient Theo by the door, who was urging him to hurry up as they were already late.

Smiling, you complied to his wish and kissed him. Without meaning to, you deepen the kiss, clinging onto him as if he's your life support, suddenly not feeling ready to send him off just yet. He seems to think the same way as he holds onto you tighter, kissing you more intensely, cupping your face with his one hand as the other roams down. You almost moan into his mouth when you hear someone gag.

"oi! Stop snogging her and hurry up!" Theo called, tapping his foot impatiently. Matthew rolled his eyes and winked at you before stepping back.

"'ight, love. We'll finish this later, yeah?" Mattheo smirked when you blushed under his gaze. He loves how's you blush at his every word, one of the reasons why he teases you a lot.

"Love you!" He said as he was about to leave with Theo. You just smiled and waved at the both of them. Physically restraining yourself from saying it back, you almost did, but you are glad you didn't as he stopped abruptly.

He looks back at you, expectedly.

You all but smiled up at him innocently. Your eyes never once betraying the guilt you are feeling inside, you just now realised how bad of a timing this is to do this prank, when he's clearly beyond late for his practice. Though, it's too late to go back now.

He clears his throat.

"uh, love? Aren't ya forgetting something?" He asks, his one brow raised in accusing manner. Mattheo steps inside the room again, completely ignoring the loud groan of his best mate ( who looks ready to hit Mattheo with his broomstick any second now ).

You don't reply, just look in his way with furrowed brows, feigning false confusion, which you can tell Mattheo saw right through.

"don't think so, no," you say. You pretend to think over it for couple of minutes before shrugging your head no. Mattheo huffs and rolls his eyes at you. Almost annoyed with you, as you're purposefully making him even more late to his practice.

"c'mon now, princess. Don't play stupid with me," he says impatiently. Not wanting make his team wait any longer on his account, just wanting to get over with that thing as soon as possible so he can come back and spend time with you again. But he can't do that unless he leaves and he's not leaving until you say "I love you" back, but judging by the look on your face, he knows he's not leaving any time soon.

"oh yeaahhhh, sorry, baby!" You giggle. And he smiles, thinking you finally got what he was saying.

"I forgot to wish you luck! Well, good luck with your practice, and have fun!" You tell him affectionately, your voice sugary sweet. You waved him bye again and blowed him a kiss.

Mattheo's hopeful expression falls, so does your heart.

"Y/n," he says, there's an edge to his voice, as well as a slight hint of hurt. Your heart breaks a little inside, regretting your stupid prank now as you look at him. He's standing in middle of the room, in his quidditch robes with his broomstick clutched tightly, his puppy brown eyes looking alarmingly sad.

You know how hard it was for him to express his feelings openly, it is still a struggle for him to express his emotions sometimes, you help him best as you can. And you're really proud of him, for how far along he had come since when you first met him. You curse at yourself mentally, just realising how stupid of an idea this was to began with.

"oh Mattheo," you softly say and go over to him. Wrapping your arms around him and he instantly holds you closer to him, you kiss him tenderly all over his face. "I'm so, so sorry, baby. I thought—i well, doesn't matter now. It was stupid anyways, I'm sorry. I love you." You say against his skin, feeling him tightening his hold, nudging his face deeper into your hair. You heard him sigh of relief, and relax into him.

"sorry, Mattheo. Please forgive me?" You ask, pulling back just a little to look at his face. He gives you one of his smiles which tells you're forgiven, you almost melt into a puddle at that.

"don't. ever. do that again, yeah?" He mumbles before kissing you. He doesn't have to tell you that anyway, since you're never attempting something like this ever again.

He leaves ghostly kisses against your skin, traveling from your lips to sensitive skin under your ear. His hand sliding down to your back, as you lock your arms around his neck.

"don't think you can get away with this so easily, love. We'll see about that forgiveness once I'm back from practice." He whispers darkly, and with one firm pat to your bum, he begins to leave once Theo clears his throat. Making his presence known, which you seemed to forget about completely.

"love you," he smirks your way before leaving with Theo, who looks as if he wants to dig himself into hole and never comeback, ever again.

You try to reply, but no words come out. Suddenly breathless.

You watch him leave with newfound excitement and anticipation burning through your body.

Maybe you're not forgiven afterall.

(divider credits to the rightful owner @rypnami 🙏🏼)

A/n: annnnnnddddd I'm back!!!!! So sorry for disappearing again😭 I have some ideas that I'm currently working on, so hopefully I'll be able to post more content soon!! Yay!

And don't forget to comment or reblog.

Hope you enjoyed reading. Have a nice day!!!

Requests are open.

#slytherin boys x reader #x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #hufflepuff x slytherin #slytherin x hufflepuff #slytherin boys #theodore nott #draco malfoy #fluff #humor #harry potter #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fluff #harry potter headcanon #smut #mattheo riddle smut #theodore nott x reader

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nicksolemnlyswears · 6 months ago

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COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, surprisingly i thinks there isn't any cursing or smut, maybe next time ;) just good old sad aegon

a/n: this is my first time ever writing for HoTD or GoT for that matter. please be kind to me. i tried to use appropriate wording for the time period. i'm somewhat successful but i have work ahead of me to become a pro.

i felt so enraged when alicent walked out on her grieving son to go fuck around with cole. what the fuck is your problem? i always gave her the benefit of the doubt but this episode just proves what a terrible mother she is. i figured the only person fit to comfort my baby boy aegon is someone raised by rhaenyras gentle heart.

lowkey want to make a throuple out of reader, aegon, and helaena. readers gonna be a little psychologist lol. she'd hold their hands and force them to kumbaya haha but obviously they'd be like this cant work without you. maybe they'll follow aegon the conqueror and have her as a second wife but idk would anyone be interested in that? i'm rambling. enjoy!

Helaena’s Turn

STAY WITH US

The cold stone of the Red Keep kept you company as you strode through its halls. The breeze of the night offered you comfort and aided your mind to forget the terrible events that have plagued the Keep.

And yet, despite your energies being depleted, you can't seem to find rest. Loss weighs you down and spirals you into a depth of overbearing thoughts, making sleep a mere idea.

The Red Keep, the place you once called home, has become your prison. For weeks, you were not allowed out of your chambers, and for a short time afterward, a guard followed you wherever you went.

It has all changed, though. The death of the King's son has diverted all of the guard's forces to find the culprit. The priority is to search for the monster that gruesomely and cruelly decapitated a child while he slept rather than to watch over a harmless Princess who is simply not on their side.

As a result, you're now free to roam the castle, granted there are eyes all around. You wouldn't be able to step foot outside the castle if you tried, and any suspicious activity would immediately be reported to the Hand of the King.

For an unknown reason, your feet guide you to the King's chambers, where indiscernible, muffled sounds come from. You look around and find that the guard meant to protect the King is absent. It's worrisome. You stand in the middle of the stone hallway, your hands clasped, as you make a decision.

While your loyalty lies with the Blacks, you cannot stand and watch more of your family be killed, including the Usurper. Daemon has always been 'kind' in mentioning that your gentle heart will cause your death. You'd argue it's an honorable way to go.

You slip through the ajar door quietly, getting closer to the sound. There is destruction across the room. The Old Valyria model your grandfather worked on for most of his life is scattered on the floor, beyond salvation. Goblets and spilled wine, thrown in a fit of rage, decorate the walls.

It is only when a sharp gasp and a shuddering breath echo around the room that you recognize the sounds you heard outside. They are cries.

You release a breath of relief. No one is in danger, although it does not signify someone is not hurting. You peak further into the room and debate on your next course of action. If the mess inside the chambers and the lack of guards mean anything, it's that the King would like to be alone.

But you know Aegon. You grew up with him. He's not one to reach out for help until it's too late. You make a haste decision. Aegon will not grieve alone tonight.

You know what that's like. Your brother, Lucerys, was murdered not too long ago, and you had no choice but to mourn alone. The Hand of the King locked you in your chambers, afraid your temper would lead you to do something drastic. It's the most horrid thing you've ever endured.

How you wished for Rhaenyra, or anyone for that matter, to hold you while you cried. A maid would've sufficed, but no one was allowed entry into your chambers.

Aegon sits by the fireplace, his head hung low, as he cries for his dead son. It might not have looked like it, but Aegon deeply cared for the boy. He wished to be better than his father ever was, and he was succeeding.

Until two days ago.

You've witnessed firsthand the blanket of sorrow that has covered the Red Keep, spent many hours by Haelena's side, offering her your shoulder, and never realized the King would need the same.

Why is Aegon alone? He should not have to go through this by himself. You expected he would have surrounded himself with his men and countless bottles of wine or sought refuge in Helaena's arms since they shared the same grief.

A heartbreaking cry snaps you out of your thoughts—his whole body trembles from loss. Aegon gasps for air to aid his burning lungs, yet he can't control the tears that track down his cheeks and the raking breaths that course through his body and limit his breathing.

He does not know what to make of himself. His fingers shake as he fumbles with the ring on his finger—the one with the dragon crest. Aegon doesn't know what to make of himself. He's never endured this sort of loss.

His sobs are the ones of a man who lost a part of himself. Jaehaerys, his legacy, has gone too soon. Aegon spent time with the boy the morning before his death, doting on him like Viserys never did to him.

He's so lost in his grief that Aegon doesn't hear when you stumble upon a piece of cast from the model. Being careful with your steps, you reach Aegon's side and place a hand on his shoulder.

Alarmed, he turns to face the person who disturbs him, only to find you—you who have been keeping the Hightower siblings together despite belonging to the other side.

"Leave me be," he sniffs, staring back into the fire. He wonders if that's how his son's pyre looked earlier that day.

You kneel on the floor, settling between his legs to cup his cheeks in your palms. Wide, glossy lilac eyes stare back as they fill with more tears.

As his tears fall, you wipe them away. It's enough to make Aegon crumble in your arms, releasing louder cries and questions that will forever remain unanswered.

It's so easy to let go when you know someone is there to catch you.

Aegon fists your dress like a child would to its mother. You rub his back soothingly, holding him as tightly as you're able. You press a kiss to the side of his head, whispering calming words.

Aegon never wanted to be king, yet the moment he tries to fulfill his duty the moment he tries to be a proper king, he is rewarded by his son being brutally taken from him.

It's not a fair world. The Gods have never been kind to him, and he's afraid he'll only ever live a life of torment.

Now, more than ever, he doesn't want to be King. It is a mere reminder of how heavy the crown truly is. It's a shackle meant to keep him in place while others act upon his name while he pays for the consequences.

"Jaehaerys was a bright soul. I am sorry this has happened. You should've never had to experience this pain," you whisper in his ear. No parent should experience the death of their child. It is a sad reality the Targaryens have experienced all too well.

Aegon nods in agreement, and only when he's calm enough to speak does he tear himself away from your embrace. He instantly misses your warmth and the smell of roses in your hair.

"Why are you comforting me when you should be celebrating my demise?" His waterline is stained red, just like the tip of his nose, and he's never looked more innocent than in that moment.

You tilt your head sadly, that same emotion reflected in your eyes. "I do not celebrate the loss of innocents, especially one that has gone too soon. I also do not particularly like the notion of someone I hold dear grieving alone."

"You did," he sniffs. He remembers hearing your cries that night; the whole Red Keep could. You cried and screamed the entire night until you fell asleep from exhaustion and starvation.

Otto prohibited them from coming to you. Haelena tried, but he dismissed the idea with the false notion that you'd hurt her in your grief. Otto confuses you with your parentage. Unlike them, you're kind and gentle and wouldn't dare hurt anyone.

"Which is how I know I would never wish it upon my worst enemy." You brush your fingers through his blonde hair, tucking the messy strands behind his ears.

"Is that what I am to you? An enemy?" He asks, disgruntled.

"No," you answer immediately, your hands coming down to rest upon his chest. His breathing has calmed since you first saw him. "At least, not yet."

His lilac eyes bore into hers in search of the truth; shyly, you hold onto his gaze with nothing to hide except your intentions to help. Sighing, he closes his eyes and bumps his forehead against yours. Aegon will take what he can get. There's seemingly no one else to help him deal with his emotions.

"Stay," he pleads, holding onto the hand that's placed on his chest. This is the most at peace he's felt in a while. He wishes to savor it for a moment longer.

"For as long as you need, my King," you reply, closing your eyes.

"Aegon," he says. He refuses to be reminded of what lies outside his bed chambers. For just a moment, he wishes to simply be Aegon.

"Aegon," you respond, correcting yourself. He squeezes your hand appreciatively, tucking your head on his neck.

He keeps you in his arms until late hours in the night, recounting memories he shared with Jaehaerys. The pain is real and raw, and he won't be well for a long time, but for this night, Aegon will seek solace in your embrace, where he knows he won't be judged or be seen as a burden.

In your arms, he's not Aegon' the Magnanimous.' He's not seen as careless or reckless or the lesser child of Alicent Hightower.

He's Aegon.

helaena’s part has been posted! HELAENA’S TURN

Final part! STAY WITH US

that’s it! it’s sweet and short. i just wanted to have someone comfort aegon like he deserves. during that scene i wished i could jump into t he screen and hug him. it’s all so tragic.

i wish i could do the same with haelena. my girl needs to be coddled. fuck alicent. fuck otto. most importantly fuck criston cole.

if you enjoyed this one shot please don’t forget to like or comment and if you want more of it feel free to let me know! i don’t bite (unless you want me to)!

#fanfiction #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #hotd #hotd season 2 #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #aegon targaryen fanfiction

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muntitled · 6 months ago

Note

condom or no condom enhypen

Legal Line × Fem!Reader

.ᐟ Cw: Nsfw, Breeding Kinks, Slight Toxic behaviour, Unprotected Sex, Coercion

- I love these asks

- Heeseung | No Condom

• My brain has unfortunately typecasted Heeseung as a bit of a slut who really enjoys raw sex. If you do succeed in tying him down, I'd say he forges wearing a condom any chance he gets.

• He wouldn't check to make sure you're on birth control. It's the recklessness of the act that gets him off

• The only occasion in which I do see Him asking whether you're on birth control or not is during sex to get himself off more on the fact that you're not.

"Fuck, I need to be inside you," he'd make quick work of pulling his pants down

"W-wait Hee, I'm not on birth control

"Fuck, are you trying to make me cum already babe-"

- Jay | Condom

• I like to believe Jay treats his girlfriend like everything else in his life: with meticulous love and care.

• He's incredibly safe and incredibly careful. You'd probably have to coax him out of not wearing a condom because he's so incredibly careful when it comes to you.

• He also has a massive breeding kink which doesn't help him trying to be good for you.

“Let's do it without the condom, babe,” you'd bring it up to him while you're both naked in a nest of blankets scattered around you both. Despite how good he tries to be for you, despite how responsible, Jay's cock twitches the moment those words leave your mouth.

“W-We can't, c'mon. That would be irresponsible-”

“Jay says These words all while his eyes glide down your naked body, imagining what exactly it would be like to fill your body up with his cum. Like he was marking you.

“...Maybe just tonight.”

- Jake | No Condom

•Whose shocked?

•You'll be at the shops and this boy would purposely forget to buy the condoms, kissing up the side of your neck when the shopkeeper is scanning your products at the till to try and distract you from the fact that there are no condoms!!!

• Condoms are a one and done thing for Jake. He tried it, didn't really feel it that much and hasnt really been a fan since. He enjoys feeling his girl convulsed around his cock when he's about to cum. It's the act of cumming inside that makes him delirious with horniness in the first place.

“Just let me in, babe, please?” he'd be kissing up the side of your neck like he usually does when he's horny, pressing his bulge into your ass while you're just trying to make some dinner.

“No, you fucking forgot to buy condoms again, Jake-”

“And that's a bad thing?”

- Sunghoon | No Condom

•Hottake but Sunghoon’s a seductive little shit just like Heeseung and I think he'd tried to coax you into the idea of not wearing a condom.

•Or, no, not even. He'd just point blank, not buy any condoms without telling you. He'd throw your birth control down the drain because you don't really need that shit anymore, and I believe he'd feel like he has that right as your loving boyfriend.

•When you ask him about it, he'd be honest with you because he did nothing wrong in his eyes.

“Uh, babe,” you try to push him off of you, but Sunghoon’s size alone has you melting into his kisses. “You bought the condoms right?”

He'd break away from kissing you momentarily before furrowing his brows cutely and asking, “What? No, of course not,” he'd immediately go back to sucking on your skin while murmuring, “Don't be silly,”

- Sunoo | Condom

•Like Jay, you'd have to coax him into the idea because it's one that he never really had before. Sex had always registered as needing to have the involvement of a condom or some form of protection in his mind.

•He definitely does have an undercover breeding kink as well, one that you probably need to coax out of him because again, he doesn't even know he has it.

“Oh God, I think I'm close,” Sunoo’s head would shoot back into the pillows while you ride him. His eyes squeezed shut because if he looked up at you now he would cum.

It's definitely something about you using him like this to get yourself off that has his cock twitching inside.

“Fuck, babe, are you sure about this?” His cheeks are flushed red and so is his neck. Nothing but sweaty ruddy skin. You ride him further, as if reassuring him.

“I need you to cum inside-”

“Y-You can't say shit like that- fuck-” his hips would stitter up into you, effectively cumming inside you for the first time but certainly not the last.

- Jungwon | No Condom

•He's apart of the ‘Fuck I wanna cum inside her so bad but I don't wanna be a bad boyfriend’ Club

•He doesn't tell you that he wants to cum inside, that he's already spent many evenings jerking himself off to the thought of what it might feel like actually cumming inside you without the intrusive walls of a condom to suppress his orgasm.

•He'd have these little fantasies in the dead of night, jerking off silently beside your sleeping body. Or at least, he thought you were asleep, but you'd hear everything. All his little whispers affirming his fantasy until you confront him about it.

"Fuck, Princess, just like that... You're doing so well," After a few minutes of sloppily grinding against him fully clothed, with Jungwon’s hands gripping your sides, urging you forward, he'd be worked up enough to share your little idea with.

"Jungwon, baby, I have an idea," you whispered in his ear, nipping at his earlobe, eliciting another wave of lust. "Can we do it... without a condom this time?"

His cock jumps in his pants and he unknowingly presses you further against his bulge.

"A-Are you sure? I mean, fuck-” He was still trying to be the responsible boyfriend.

“Do you not trust me, Jungwon-"

“Of course I trust you baby it's just- fuck- I don't think I'd be able to pull out, quick enough and then I'd probably have to run to the store to buy you a plan b and-”

“Would it be so bad if you came inside?”

Your words would unconsciously have his hips stuttering upwards, before he drags a hand across his face.

“Fuck you're trying to kill me…”

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astralnymphh · 1 month ago

Note

Um so wolves go into heat around winter an it got me thinking. Werewolf!ellie in heat absolutely RAILING reader

Im talking absolutely DESTROYING reader

She turn up at the door like "scissor tongitj?? Scissor tonight queen??? ✂️✂️"

♱|. . a/n: i'm supposed to be writing vampire smut.. but here we are! just need to get something out even if it's shitty (i'm also just sick and dgaf about perfectly writing a blurb).. i've also been listening to juno a lot so all i can think about is BREEDING. mdni.

werewolf!ellie panting at the corner of your cracked door—dark, ripped jeans, a crucible of sweat that clumps hairs to her forehead, shine to her skin—and she rushes a near nothing from her lips before the desperation could crawl out and eat you whole. if she quietened her own heart, she could catch yours pounding. “hey babe, fuckin' missed you. c'mere.” each syllable is accompanied by gusts of her gutsy—and almost visible to the cold—breath. its scent and heat bled through quickly. it poured over, into, and under her swooping fingertips, which had the back of your head snared and pulled into her mouth, eating your response with a whine she never intended to release.

the nature of your girlfriend isn't occultic to you; she drags you into her midnight realm and makes you feel like the worshipped moon. at this point, your brain tends to forget that she's even a werewolf to begin with, and eases in the penchant way she has with you: chasing you, loving hard, owning handfuls of your flesh that she lets spill and manipulate her senses. but, in the epicenter of this brutal winter—your first one together—you least expect a shirt to be shredded from your torso in one, hungry rip, tossed like ribbons on the floor and abandoned as you licked the nectary words dripping off her tongue. “wanna have a fuckin' baby with you.. ahah—shit, can i give you one?” she stumbled in giggles, so sweetly, and fumbled so pitifully with the rest of your clothes, you had to assist before something else was torn.

yeah, she can wear you out giving you 'one' any fuckin' day.

“miss me?” ellie clings, with nails that long to be sharp, into the small of your back. deep enough to bleed. it stung with a soft whimper inside your chest, “mhh—yes, ellie.” teeth collecting the sighed words from your lower lip.

she would rub her pussy against yours until it was throbbing raw, and her hips gave out. it did most times; from the wanton, the sheer letch to let loose, to give you something special—but if you whispered into a safekeeping, it would be about how she lets her hormones get the best of her. more so when your touch is involved. when your tired fingers trace the bushed mess that leads up her stomach in a thin, waning tornado-line, wrap your hand around and soothe her pelvis with pressure—she loses it.

“can't handle it at all, huh?” you pant, smiling at the fucked-out, glistening and red look on her face. her scarred brows tighten when your sticky thighs come into contact with an audible slap. it's her juices that coat you. “poor thing.”

ellie cups her own tit and rolls deeper into her straddle, you're not even sure she heard you; too lost in that midnight realm. but, if you're being honest, you're the one that can't handle it. human endurance has you beat for miles—she has to place your limp leg on her shoulder. “f-fuck..” she trembles. soon enough, the hairs covering her cunt are shining wet with her cum, and she can only hope that it takes. “thats it.. oh my god..” she leans into her nape, voice vibrating deep and hoarse in her chest. she looked like golden heaven, with her head hanging like that. though, her stamina will be the death of you: she lifts her head and starts hovering over you for more, hot breaths that felt cold in your used state fanning over your cheek. “gonna be a goddamn mama, babe. got more in me—if ya' wanna go again, hm?”

#♱ | “asks.”#♱ | “footnotes.”#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #werewolf!ellie #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams blurb #breedingkink!ellie #elliewilliams #tlou ellie #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou2

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reilemon · 8 months ago

Text

🫧Love Don't Be Shy🫧

♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎cw:unprotected sex (as always), there's only one bed, sex toys, pulling out

♡︎word count: 2.9k

♡︎synopsis: Rafayel finds your mini "neck massager" while going through your makeup bag.

♡︎a/n: I hope you guys like how I wrote Rafayel.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. You have to share the bed with your friend (employee?) Rafayel. You just nod when Rafayel checks with you if it's okay, and of course you agree because you don't want to go around searching for another hotel.

The last time you had to share a room, and the bed, you barely got any sleep as he was tossing and turning all night, stealing the duvet in consequence. You couldn't be too mad at him as you know how messed up his sleep schedule is. Also, he was so sweet for remembering your comment how you wished to see a certain spot at that place.

This time is no different; he organized this little trip for you to make good use of your vacation days. He researched all the restaurants that you'd like, shops that he'd like, fun and interesting places to visit, and always takes the best seats in the airplane. But he always forgets to book two rooms in advance!

It's not that bad, you tell yourself. You're very comfortable around Rafayel; he makes you feel safe and he adores spending time with you. It's just that you have your own night routine. And you can't do it with him in the same room.

Oh well, the vacation will fly by quickly.

Even with this little inconvenience, you wish it won't. Not because you don't want to get back to work, but because you also adore spending time with him. And lately, with every meeting you hope to become more than just friends (more than just an artist and his bodyguard).

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

After unpacking Rafayel and you go outside to grab a quick bite at the city centre. Of course that turns into an impromptu shopping spree because the two of you stumbled upon a vintage flea market.

You drag your feet as Rafayel almost skips next to you, bags with little trinkets in his hands. It's a beautiful summer afternoon, with a refreshing breeze. You'd enjoy it more if there weren't so many people around.

He glances at your 'energetic' walk. "C'mon Miss Bodyguard, we had a good time there!"

You chuckle. "Sure, if you can call 'talking you out of buying everything you see' a good time."

"But everything was so beautiful!"

"Yes, but think of the luggage!"

He shifts his bags to one hand and offers you the free one with a soft smile. "Give me your hand. I don't want to get lost."

He says that, but he's the one leading you through the crowd.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

You had to take a little nap after coming back to your room, because Rafayel had more things planned for this evening, and you needed the energy. You wanted to look and feel good because you actually looked forward to it. You might've even bought some new outfits that you thought he'd like, even though he gives you compliments no matter how much effort you put into your appearance.

While you were asleep, Rafayel took a long shower.

When you awoke, you found him in your room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

You blush and avert your gaze, opting to just not comment on it. "Are you at least wearing underwear?" You commented on it.

He looks down, like he forgot about his state of almost-undress. "I do. Wanna check?" His hand resting on the towel knot.

Your hand immediately shoots up to cover your view of whatever he's about to show you. "It's fine! I just didn't expect this to be the first thing I see after a nap!"

He laughs and strolls towards the closet. "You saw me in a bathing suit plenty of times. This towel covers more."

You can't help but sneak a peek at his toned back while he's picking out an outfit. For someone who claims to hate working out, he's more than fit. You can clearly see the way his muscles are carved under his pale still damp skin and the way they flex as he moves. As he turns around, you can’t help but crave to graze your hand over his defined abs and those veins leading down to -

"Like what you see?"

Caught red handed, you snap your head in the opposite direction, your face burning with embarrassment.

"I'll go take a shower." You mumble as you snatch your underwear and a nightdress from a drawer and escape to the bathroom, blushing even more as you catch Rafayel's mischievous laugh.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

Refreshed, and not at all embarrassed anymore, you emerge from the bathroom to get your makeup bag. You don't know whether to put the outfit on before the makeup, or the other way around...

Your brain short circuits when your eyes land on Rafayel holding your makeup bag in one hand - and your mini vibrator in the other.

He holds it up and studies it "Is this like a mini neck massager?"

You're frozen in place. Your body is discovering new levels of embarrassment.

Hearing nothing from you, his attention shifts to your figure. You don't register the way his eyes admire you in your little nightdress. "Well?" He presses the little button and the little buzzing sound hits your ears like crashing waves of sweat hitting your body.

He's teasing you. He has got to be teasing you. Like he always is. There's no way he thinks this is for his neck!

"Give it back." You croak, your throat dry.

"Why? You don't want to show me how to use it?" He's really going through with this little bit.

"Why were you even going through my makeup bag?"

He explains how he forgot to pack some cream and wanted to borrow it from you, or something like that, you barely listened because he was not letting go of the little bullet vibrator. He's put down the makeup bag, but not the toy!

The buzzing gets stronger as Rafayel's finger presses the button multiple times. "So, which setting is the best?"

He flinches as you basically hurl yourself towards him to take back what's yours. He holds it in the air, away from your reach.

"What's up with you?" his eyebrows knot, cheeks lightly red at the close proximity.

"Give it back!"

Finding your frustration confusing but at the same time cute and amusing, he continues to keep it out of your reach, letting you chase him around the room.

"Nuh - uh!" he laughs and turns to you, only for his face to be met with a white fluffy pillow.

You smacked him across the face, not too hard of course; you're still his body guard. You earn a little 'hey!' with a flushed face and to defend himself, he puts the toy in his pocket and grabs his own pillow. You didn't even notice how good his outfit looked.

The two of you end up in a brief pillow fight - mostly him taking hits while you managed to dodge most of them. But then Rafayel swiftly snatches your pillow, and pins you down on the bed, holding your wrists in his hand and resting his knees on the bed.

He asks, out of breath "Is it not a neck massager?" While you were in a pillow fight he caught on how red your face is and how that shape doesn't seem like it's for the neck.

You struggle under him, aware of how your nightdress lifted under the impact, and how your breasts are on the verge of spilling out. A small whine leaves your lips in frustration as he's so much stronger than you.

"Yes! It's my vibrator, okay?" you can't meet his gaze. You're sure you look so damn pathetic right now.

But you don't see the delight in Rafayel's eyes as he takes in your cute flushed pouting face. He can't help but take a peek of your figure under him, the way your tits are barely covered, the hem of your dress lifted to show off your plush thighs pressed together.

He releases his hold on you and sits back, still straddling you. "Is that why you were upset over one room? You could've just told me and I would've taken a walk or something. Maybe even get you a snack to replenish your energy."

You could not be more mortified. Your eyes are still fixed somewhere to the side and your lips don't move.

His fingers softly hold your chin and you muster the courage to look him in the eyes. You notice how messy his curls are. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." He reassures you with a soft smile, and hands you over the wretched thing.

And you loved that about Rafayel - he knew when to stop teasing and when it's time to give you reassurance.

Still, you needed your little revenge.

It doesn't matter that he's stronger than you, you still have your hunter skills, and in a blink of an eye, you switch positions, straddling his lap.

He opens his mouth to make some dirty joke but only a yelp gets out when you suddenly press the buzzing toy on his side while locking his wrists with your hand.

He pleads for mercy as you continue to run the vibrator on second to highest setting all over his torso.

A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and heat pools between your legs as his whimpers and gasps keep leaving his plump lips and his body squirms under you, his crotch grazing your bottom.

Flustered and out of breath, Rafayel had enough of the torture and pins you down again - pressing you in the same position you had him in, but with his knee so dangerously close to your clothed heat.

"You're being cruel, kitten." he breathes, his tone a little too calm for your liking.

He takes the toy from you and starts sliding it down the middle of your belly, the contact making you squirm and laugh a little. "I was being supportive here and you go and start torturing me."

"I was embarrassed!" you scream between laughs and pants.

He complains in his playful manner about how you attacked him while he was so confused, you can barely hear him over your involuntarily laughs. In your squirms and attempts to break free, your core grinds more than once against his knee and upper thigh.

And maybe he's inching his knee closer to you.

You open your eyes when you don't feel the tickles anymore. You're met with his soft hooded eyes.

"I want to make it up to you, darling."

He studies your face as his hand moves up and a gasp leaves your lips as it lightly grazes the underside of your breast over with the vibrating toy.

He repeats the same motion on the other breast. "Do you want me to stop?"

You sheepishly shake your head.

The grip on your wrists loosens, but you let him hold you down.

Finally, he gives attention to your already pebbled nipples, carefully rubbing circles around them. His eyes take in your flushed face - beautiful lips parted as you pant underneath him, eyes veiled with lust and desperation for more, sensitive nipples poking through the thin fabric of your nightdress.

Your panties are damp with the attention on your nipples and core grinding against his knee. And with Rafayel on top of you, with his cheeks flushed, messy hair and half lidded eyes gazing at you with adoration, you crave more.

He doesn't need to read your thoughts to know what you need. Your hips are desperately pressing against him, soaked panties leaving a wet patch on his pants.

A playful smirk stretches his lips, but he fights the urge to tease you. Instead, his hand trails down, avoiding your tummy this time, and presses the toy on your inner thigh, earning a jolt from your legs and a whimper from your lips. With his slender fingers, he lifts up the hem of your dress, exposing your panties.

You feel his knee move back, but still touching your clothed heat. Pressing the button for the lowest setting, he places the vibrating tip of the toy right between your folds, the familiar sensation of the vibrator making you moan. Only it's different now, because Rafayel is the one pressing it against you, the one making you feel so good, which makes you cream, your heart beating against your chest, your face and chest burning with need and desire.

With more confidence, Rafayel starts pressing and slowly rubbing your sensitive bud. "You like that princess? Does it feel good?"

You frantically nod, your pussy already throbbing with an impending orgasm. "Just like that!" You manage to breathe out.

His cock is painfully hard in his boxers, straining in his tight pants. He feels like he could cum just watching your beautiful face dazed with lust and listening to your sinful moans. Soft pants are leaving his lips "Fuck, you're so beautiful."

He releases your wrists to rest his elbow next to your head and he dips down, latching his lips with yours. You reciprocate immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, relishing in the feeling of finally tasting his gorgeous pink lips.

Both of you are a panting mess, kissing sloppily, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your tongue intertwines with his.

And all of this is becoming too much for you, and you already feel the coil in your stomach is about to snap any second. You snatch the collar of his shirt, probably ripping from how tight you're gripping it. "Don't stop, I'm cummin' - !"

He watches you in awe as you tremble and mewl underneath him, unable to kiss him back as the waves of your release overtake you. His lips latch onto your neck as he uses his thumb and knee to help you come down from your high. His breath is trembling as he sucks and licks the sensitive skin on your neck, his face burning and cock throbbing.

He almost whines in your ear "Please, please princess, I need to fuck you so bad..."

Your fingers interlace with his messy curls and he lifts up his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks and ears are burning red, eyes pleading and hooded with lust.

You softly whisper "I need you."

The same second he hears those words, his working hand frantically works his belt and the pants, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as his hot leaking cock is freed. He wants to take his sweet time with you, worshipping you, but he's already on the brink.

And you're so impatient; you pull your panties to the side and take his cock in your hand and tease the tip against your dripping pussy, the action making the man above you whimper.

"Fuck, princess!" He moves your hand away and squeezes the angry red tip. "Watching you got me so worked up, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He admits with a weak smile.

You pull him into a soft kiss "That's okay, you already made me cum so hard."

He kisses your lips and slowly starts sliding in, a gasp leaving both of your lips. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he eases into your sopping cunt.

You bite his delicious bottom lip as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls fluttering around his cock and you feel like you're about to cum again. You release his bottom lip and you move onto kissing his jaw and neck. Fuck, he smells so good.

He stays still as he tries to hold onto his sanity. His hot breath fans over your ear "You're squeezing me so hard, doll."

You wiggle your hips and press his lower back, urging him to start moving. Exhaling a shaky breath, his hips slowly start rolling, yours moving at the same pace. Mewls and moans are leaving your lips, as his cock keeps stroking the sweet spot inside you, glazing his length in your slick.

Rafayel needs to make you cum around his cock, but he’s already so painfully close, with your wet walls squeezing him so hard, your pretty lips on his neck and your bewitching voice in his ear.

He was so captivated by you that he almost forgot about the little toy lying next to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him snatch the toy and turns it on to a higher setting and props himself up, angling his hips to reach your swollen and twitching bundle of nerves. Intense shocks of pleasure take over your body as he starts rubbing the vibrator again, and in seconds you're a whimpering mess as his cock thrusts into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot, and his hand pressing the toy on your clit.

"Raf - I -" Is all you manage to say before another orgasm overtakes you, your breath catching in your throat and for a second you think you're going to pass out. You can barely hear Rafayel's soothing and strained whispers of you how gorgeous you are and how pretty you sound.

But hear him whimper "I'm gonna cum, princess."

He tosses the drenched vibrator to the side and with a squelching sound pulls out of you, and your hips twitch as he presses the tip against your still throbbing clit as he jerks himself off, ropes of hot cum spilling all over your belly and drenched cunt. You’re thankful he pulled up your dress in the process, but you wouldn’t mind if he stained it.

After both of you take a moment to catch your breath, he puts his weight on you and you wrap your arms around his back squeezing him tight.

He peppers you with soft kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. His fingers caress your face.

He chuckles with that playful smirk on his lips. "I should snoop around your stuff more often."

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel smut #lads smut #lads x reader #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you

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bedoballoons · 1 year ago

Note

Yandere Tighnari, Venti, lyney, Freminet and Aether finding out Reader isn't really into short guys They're into someone bigger and taller {{Itto For Aether, Alhaitham for Tighnari, Nevillete for both Lyney and Freminet and Zhongli for Venti}}

I READ THIS AND WAS LIKE YESSSSSS!!! (As a short person I find this hilarious and your idea is literally genius!) I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿��𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Just not that into short bois~༺}

CW: Yandere themes!, characters are obsessive to the point of wanting to harm others so they can't take you, unrequited love, intense jealousy, mild angst! Lyney makes Neuvillette disappear! Also this is much longer than I meant it to be...what can I say, I like yanderes!

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney had been told no many times in his life,in fact he couldn't even count how many people said he could never be a famous magician...and yet he'd proved every single one of them wrong. He simply couldn't stand not working towards something everyone else claimed was impossible, because in his eyes anything was possible, so when you confided in him about your feelings towards Neuvillette and stated that you found him more charming because of his height, even going so far as to mention you didn't really like short men as much...he just couldn't give up so easily.

He was madly in love with you, to the point it had become more than obsession, he'd seek you out anytime he'd left his home and any show he'd make sure to wink at you the moment his eyes met yours, he was so head over heels for you that he was physically unable to think about anyone or anything else. This also meant he wouldn't let anyone take you...especially just because they were taller...absolutely not.

So for his next show he planned something extra special, a magic trick truly wonderful in everyway...and as the crowd cheered, watching in awe when the box that had contained the chief of justice disappeared before their very eyes...none of them were aware he wouldn't show back up again...at least not for along while. Not until Lyney had found a way to make you love him, not until you...the most precious beautiful thing in all the world...was his.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari stood next to you, his ears drooping with regret as he watched you flirt away with Alhaitham, his tall muscular figure drawing you to him like a moth to a flame...making you completely forget about the one who'd brought you together in the first place. It was like some cruel trick of fate...especially considering Tighnari had planned to confess his feelings for you that same day...and now it seemed like it would do no good..

He tapped your shoulder, not waiting for your response as he intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you away from Alhaitham as quickly as possible...and silently hoping you'd leave the whole situation at that. You on the other hand were not so happy with him, wanting desperately to continue your conversation with the handsome scribe..., "Tighnari what was that about? I was really getting along with-" He put a gloved finger to your lips, making you go quiet, his heart racing as he looked deep into your eyes.

"I love you...so much. I can't even really wrap my head around my feelings because they are so intense...it's like I need you just to keep going...like you're the thing I simply cannot live without. Even the air I breathe isn't as important as you are...." His confession was a bit much to say the least and adding to it was the kiss he placed on your forehead, causing you to jerk away from him.

"I'm sorry...but I don't feel that way for you..." Your words spilled out before you could stop them, your heart racing with fear at the change in his mannerisms...he didn't even respond...he just stood there...like he was plotting something and you...were about to find out just how crazy his love for you actually was.

𑁍༄Venti:

"I actually do have feelings for someone."

The second those words left your lips Ventis heart began to race, his mind clouded over with thoughts of you confessing to him and telling him you loved him...it was all he wanted. No, it was all he needed! He tried his best to calm himself down, taking a sip of wine before responding like someone who was completely clueless of the others feelings would, "Oh ho ho and who would that lucky person be hmm?"

A blush coated your cheeks followed by a sweet flustered smile that could make even Lord Barbatos swoon and boy was he...until you answered, "I like Mr. Zhongli~" You giggled nervously, not noticing how pale Venti went the second he heard the name...how the part of the wine bottle he'd been holding had shattered, much like his heart...you didn't even notice the hurt tone of his voice when he asked, "What does that old blockhead have that I don't?"

The question definitely took you by surprise, but you assumed he wasn't being serious and decided to answer truthfully, "Well he's a bit more refined...and I like his voice, but most of all he's so tall! I'm sorry Venti but I just can't imagine myself with someone...so tiny." The anemo archon was speechless...hatred seeping into his very being and jealousy getting the better of him. He stood up without another word and left, leaving you wondering what had happened...

𑁍༄Freminet:

Freminet was completely silent, his face bright red and burning with a rage he'd never felt before, his hands barely able to keep steady as jealousy ate away at his once calm heart heart. All he wanted was you...your love, that sweet smile that he craved to see everyday, but here you were, sitting Infront of him with this doe eyed look on your face as you fawned all over none other than the chief of justice. Mentioning more than once how tall and handsome he was, how incredible it would to have a man like him around.

"Enough."

You paused mid sentence, caught off guard by the amount of malice in his once kind sweet voice, watching as he stood up from his seat, your mouth slightly agape. You'd never seen him like this before...so angry and confident, it was scary...yet also a little exciting. After a moment of silence you'd worked up the courage to say something...but you didn't even manage to get a single word out as he grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you harshly towards him, making you let out nothing more than a sharp gasp.

Your face went red, pure shock displaying itself on your features as he leaned in closer, his light purple eyes seemingly staring into your soul as his whispers grazed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, "Hush now my love...you don't need him...I promise~"

𑁍༄Aether:

Aether was always there to help someone, so reliable in fact, that everyone called on him whenever there was a issue and including you, after all he'd saved you from many close calls...even saving your life a few times in the process and for that you were incredibly grateful, but alas you were still not in love with him. He on the other hand couldn't get enough of you, he just wanted to be near you all the time...be your hero and love you like nobody else ever could.

He...however wasn't the only person who could save someone and when the friendly neighborhood oni stepped in to save you, Aether was anything but pleased... especially when he saw the difference in how you acted. Yes your gratitude was the same...but you'd gotten all flustered at the onis impressive figure, touching the large man's chest while your face heated with such a strong blush and everyone around you cheered him on.

Aether was more than a little upset, suddenly understanding that he clearly wasn't your type and that he probably would never be, he just couldn't stand it! How could you, the person he'd do absolutely anything for...be so enraptured by someone else...just because they were bigger than him. No, he wouldn't let it stand, he'd fight for you, even if it meant doing things he could regret later on...it didn't matter, not anymore. You were all he cared about...all that mattered.

Just. You.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

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azrielbrainrot · 2 months ago

Text

Put On A Show

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader x Rhysand

Kinktober 2024: Voyeurism

Description: It's finally your turn to watch Azriel and Rhysand together.

Warnings: Smut, voyeurism, oral sex, anal fingering, anal sex, dom/sub dynamics, mostly rhys x azriel, bondage, some dirty talk

Word Count: ~2,4k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This story is in the same universe as All Over My Skin and Spoiled Rotten, but there's hardly any plot in these so it's not necessary to read them all. Hope you enjoy!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Kissing Rhys always made you forget yourself, the way his tongue stroked yours making the world fall quiet around you, it almost felt like he was using his daemati abilities on you sometimes, but as Azriel's hand comes down to hold your waist, you pull away, remembering why you were here in the first place.

“Wait, you said-”

“I know, I know,” Rhys is quick to reassure, a smirk growing on his face when he feels you tremble against him, purple eyes finding the culprit behind you, marking up your neck like he couldn't hear either of you. “Can't fault us for wanting to taste you first.”

“You can taste me after too,” you say, leaning your head back against Azriel's shoulder, trying your best to look up into his eyes, maybe even pout up at him a little for good measure.

The shadowsinger can only smile endearingly, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, hand moving to hold your chin, turning your head so he could taste your mouth as well. Rhys' hand easily finds your breast under your nightgown, massaging it in his palm before you reach for his wrist, stopping him. The bastard has the audacity to laugh when you try pulling away from Azriel, only for the shadowsinger to hold you in place and keep kissing you.

“Come on, Az,” the High Lord calls out, getting his attention, “We promised her.”

He pulls away from you slowly, almost unwillingly, hazel eyes tracing your face like he wanted nothing more than to fuck it. Gods, you hoped he would, but first you wanted to watch them.

“There's no use pretending you don't want me in front of her,” Rhysand taunts. A smile threatens to appear on your lips at the glare the shadowsinger sends him, one that promises an amazing show.

Without ever breaking eye contact with the smirking High Lord, Azriel takes your hand, guiding you to the chair they usually sit on, the one that gives you a clear view of the bed.

“Sit tight, angel. I think you'll thoroughly enjoy watching me shutting up our High Lord.”

You nod up at him, giving him a giddy smile as he drops a kiss to your forehead before moving back and taking his pants off, baring his skin to both your and Rhys' hungry eyes, before sitting on the bed right in front of you. His intentions were clear before he even spoke up, the way he sat with spread legs letting you know exactly what he wanted.

“Come here and show me just how much you want me,” he starts, “and then maybe I'll fuck you.”

Rhysand is more than happy to do as he says, the hunger in his eyes overpowering the purple and that damning smirk never leaving his lips, stripping the rest of his own clothes as he walks to the shadowsinger slowly, dropping to his knees unceremoniously when he reaches him.

You almost can't believe your eyes as you watch the High Lord holding onto Azriel's cock and licking him from base to tip, a groan escaping past the shadowsinger's lips. Rhysand hums, sucking the head into his mouth and moving his fist up and down, feeling his spymaster getting harder with each touch. You bite your lip, so used to being the one on your knees between his legs, tasting him on your tongue.

You're only supposed to watch, darling. The sound of his voice speaking directly into your mind sends a shiver down your spine as usual, especially as you watch him taking more of Azriel's cock into his mouth. Then put on a good show for me.

The High Lord seems to take your words as a challenge, bobbing his head up and down on his cock, slowly getting him in deeper as his throat gets used to the intrusion, hands holding onto the Spymaster's thighs for leverage. You know how hard it was to take Azriel into your mouth, but seeing the way his throat stretched with the intrusion was almost unbelievable. You briefly wonder if this is what Azriel and Rhysand saw every time you pleasured them. The thought set a fire in the pit of your stomach, the flimsy lacy panties you wore beyond soaked already.

Scarred hands fall on top of his head, fingers tangling in his impossibly dark hair, guiding his movements along, a pleased moan escaping as Azriel's hazel eyes seem entranced with the sinful sight in front of him, the noises echoing around the room and the tears gathering in the corner of the usual confident eyes of his High Lord.

It doesn't take long for Rhys' nose to meet the short hairs at the base of Azriel's cock with his encouraging grip on his hair, his entire length fitting down his throat perfectly. You were more than impressed and the sight was certainly more than enticing, you let those thoughts echo around your mind so they hopefully reach him, and as he moans around the throbbing cock in his mouth you know they do.

“Just like that,” Azriel breathes out, the vibrations sending a shudder through his own body, wings twitching slightly at his back. “You're a lot better at this than running your mouth.”

You can't know for sure what Rhysand spoke into Azriel's mind, but you have no doubts it was something meant to rile him up as he tightens his grip on his hair, moving his head along his cock at the same time his hips start thrusting into him, the High Lord's nails biting into his thighs as he struggles to breathe through the abuse.

Gagging noises fill the room as Azriel brutally fucks his mouth, your own heavy breaths joining in as you watch the scene in front of you unfold as if you were in a trance. You don't have to look to know that between Azriel fucking his face and the praise he's receiving, Rhysand's cock is painfully hard and leaking down onto the floor. Your hands grip onto the arms of the chair, wanting to reach out and take him into your own mouth.

Azriel stops moving after a while, using the grip on Rhys' hair to pull him away, his heavy cock falling back against his thigh, chest rising and falling quickly. Hazel eyes watch the way he tries to catch his breath, coughing as too much air fills his lungs now that his airways weren't obstructed anymore, the spit covering his mouth and dripping down his chin, and the tears rolling down his face as intently as you are.

“What a good little High Lord,” Azriel taunts with a wicked smirk.

“Can be even better.” Rhysand's voice comes out raspy and weak from the abuse his throat had just been put through. His eyes blinked away the tears quickly though, looking up at his spymaster with as much confidence as he wears when he strolls into the Court of Nightmares.

“Yes, you can.”

Azriel wraps one hand around Rhysand's neck, pulling him up and crashing his lips over his viciously, teeth hitting each other and tongues fighting for dominance, so differently from how they usually kiss you.

Their dynamic is a bit different from your own with each of them, but you had noticed as much during your time together. Azriel was always in control, whether he was participating or just watching from the chair you were sitting in now. He was incredibly attentive with you, only getting a bit more serious when you misbehaved too much, but the same couldn't be said about how he handled Rhysand. It made sense though, since the High Lord liked riling him up so much.

They waste no time in moving up to the bed, Azriel easily finding his way on top of Rhys, mouths never parting and hands roaming each other's bodies as if in a frenzy, strong bodies fitting perfectly against one another. When they finally pull away from each other, chests heaving, they look your way briefly, as if remembering you were even there in the first place, maneuvering their bodies so you have the perfect view.

Azriel gets up suddenly, walking to the nightstand and pulling out a familiar looking bottle of oil. Rhysand lets out a sigh, one that sounds more like a whine, and grabs at the shadowsinger as soon as he returns to the bed, bringing him into another passionate kiss.

“Need to get you ready,” he murmurs, pushing the High Lord back down so he's lying back against the mattress. “Behave.”

Your eyes fall on Azriel's scarred hands, observing how he tilts the bottle, letting the oil drip onto his fingers, coating them thoroughly before reaching down, circling the High Lord's awaiting hole before coaxing a finger inside slowly.

As he prepares Rhysand, you take the opportunity to study the beautiful picture he paints, sprawled out on the bed, legs spread as he too watches Azriel fucking his fingers into him. His body was covered in sweat, shining under the low lights, trembling every so often when his fingers found just the right spots. His cock lay ignored against his abs, hard and throbbing, leaking onto his stomach. Mesmerizing, the High Lord was truly mesmerizing.

“You flatter me, darling.”

“Don't think you should be focusing on me, Rhys,” you throw back at him, your eyes never straying from the way his hole tightens around the shadowsinger's fingers, almost sucking them in.

“He shouldn't,” Azriel declares, pulling his fingers out and stroking his cock a few times before guiding it to his loosened hole, one hand gripping his hip as he slowly starts to work his way inside him.

Another big difference from how Azriel usually fucks you is how very little time he gives Rhysand to adjust, fitting his entire length into him with only a few thrusts and setting up a slow but deep pace right away. He doesn't seem to mind though, filthy groans and whimpers escaping him as his spymaster fucks him.

You had been the one to suggest this, but you still couldn't believe you got to witness the way Azriel's body moved on top of Rhysand's, muscles working with each thrust, wings opening and closing with the pleasure running through his body, some shadows swirling around them always unwilling to stray too far from their singer; the way the High Lord's hands gripped onto the sheets, his power filtering through as he lost himself in the pleasure, hips moving to meet Azriel's as best as he could.

All those times you felt bad while one of them only watched as the other fucked you seemed silly to think back on now. There was no doubt in your mind that you were dripping down onto the chair, having to keep pressing your thighs together to take some of the edge off. Your scent was also as prominent as theirs, even when you hadn't even so much as touched yourself.

Just as you were about to let your hand travel down into your underwear, Azriel's shadows come up and bind your wrists to the arms of the chair, rendering you immobile. Confusion takes your attention away from the scene in front of you for the first time since they started, looking down at the wispy shadows circling your wrists, not even letting you move an inch.

“Az-”

“Hush, angel,” he tells you without even looking your way, too captivated with the way his cock slid in and out of the High Lord. “You're only supposed to be watching, remember?”

Even with Azriel's cock inside him Rhysand manages to choke out a laugh in the midst of his moans, reveling in the glare you send him and the curses flooding your mind. They soon forget about you once again, getting lost in each other as Azriel's hips keep snapping into the male, leaning down closer so he could kiss him, one of his hands traveling down to his cock, stroking him in turn with his thrusts, coaxing the prettiest whimpers out of your High Lord as he started kissing down his neck, marking him with sharp teeth.

“Fuck, Az,” Rhysand manages between moans. “I'm so close.”

“Yeah?” Azriel had moved down to his chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth as he tightened his hold on his cock. “Show me.”

As soon as the order pushes past his lips, Rhys' body starts trembling, throwing his head back against the mattress, a choked moan of his name escaping him as he cums all over his stomach, Azriel's hand pulling rope after rope out of him, only stopping when Rhys reaches for his wrist, leaving his spent cock and holding onto his hips again, still fucking him as deep as he can go.

“She wants to watch you too,” he breathes out, purple eyes staring into his hazel ones, eyebrows scrunched together as the pleasure becomes too much to handle.

Azriel doesn't say anything, simply holding his gaze as he speeds up again, the sound of wet skin clapping together and his moans rising in volume filling the room. His hips start faltering, wings spreading ever so slightly the closer he gets, pulling out at the last second, furiously fucking his fist over Rhysand's torso, his own cum falling over him and making an even bigger, delicious mess of the High Lord.

They stay unmoving for a moment, chests rising and falling as they catch their breaths and come back down to earth. Azriel moves before Rhys, sitting down on the bed beside him, facing you again.

Hazel and purple eyes fall on your face as you study the cum painting Rhysand's muscles, going up as far as his throat, so entranced by the delicious sight that you don't notice them watching you or that his shadows were no longer tying you to the chair. It's only when Azriel calls your name that your eyes meet his, tilting his head to the side with a smile tugging at his lips.

“Wanna come clean him up for me?”

#azriel x reader #azriel smut #rhysand x reader #rhysand smut #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #azriel x rhysand #azriel fic #azriel fanfiction #rhysand fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar smut #acotar kinktober

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covetyou · 3 months ago

Text

sweet as cherry wine

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub-con (power imbalance, reader was paying a debt), unprotected PIV, period sex, the joys of menstruation, fingering, derogatory names (slut), mentions of malnutrition/lack of food, positive weight gain, ghost of anal sex past and future, drug reference, asshole Joel, no use of y/n word count: 5.1k summary: a different kind of rude awakenin' than you were promised ruins your Sunday plans but, of course, you find yourself at the mercy of Joel Miller anyway.

A/N: she's here! another mini-kinktober SWAT series of oneshots for you to enjoy and for me to be horny about in theory, stressed about in practice. if you want spoilers, check out the SWAT masterlist for what's to come.

once again, please ignore the total and utter bastardisation and improper use of hozier lyrics. this one is particularly heinous but out of context I couldn't resist.

title from cherry wine by hozier

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You felt more alive these days. Whether it was the bright, cool days, the extra food you could suddenly afford to eat, or the regular fucking you got from Joel, you couldn't tell, but the world felt lighter and, at the very least, your father's bad days didn't feel so difficult to manage.

It was easy to forget that these things couldn't last - the cloud was incoming whether you liked it or not, and whether it was a short shower or a downpour, you were going to get wet.

It was a fact that became painfully apparent the very morning you had an appointment with Joel.

It wasn't a strict appointment, more an offhand comment that you planned on cashing in on. When a man like Joel fucks you from behind and taunts you with threats of fucking your ass again and you think fuck yes so hard the words spew out of your mouth as you babble into the sheets, what else is a girl to do. And when he makes doubly sure you heard him by kneading your ass as you ready yourself to leave and whispers in your ear the filthy things he wants to do to you, and if you want them to happen you should come over Sunday afternoon, it's basically a done deal.

"If you thought that was an ass fuckin' before," he had said, "You're in for a rude fuckin' awakenin', sweetheart."

By god did you want that rude awakening.

But, staring into your underwear that Sunday morning, the distantly familiar gnawing ache in your abdomen suddenly had a name, and there your plans went, flushed down the drain right alongside the first signs you'd seen of your fucking period in years.

You remembered the pain, but it'd been long enough that you'd forgotten about the other discomforts periods could bring. The hunger, the aches, the tender nipples and the throb in your head. Not to mention, the last thing you wanted was Joel anywhere near any of your holes, asshole definitely included.

With your plans ruined and an ache that was rapidly spreading to your back, you didn't bother leaving the house that day, or sending word to Joel that you wouldn't be coming. Your rude awakenin' would have to wait, and your dad would have to stretch his pills for a few more days.

Three days in, you can't wait any longer. Or rather, your dad can't. You still feel rotten, and though the pain and bleeding have eased off a little, you just want the sit in your apartment and eat - the very luxury that got you in this mess in the first place.

But, you're here instead. In front of Joel's door, hands clasped at your sides, berating yourself - and your father - for even needing to be here, when Joel pulls open the door with a scowl.

"This look like Sunday to you?" he grouches, the furrow between his brows deepening as he looks you up and down.

You try to ignore it. Just like you've tried to ignore the gnawing ache in your belly all week. But, despite yourself, you can't speak, can't bring mention to Sunday and your own disappointment, and instead reach a hand deep into your jacket pocket and pull out the small number of cards you'd agreed would cover your dad's meds.

"Just here for a refill."

Joel rolls his eyes, and when he pushes away from the door frame, he beckons you inside, pushing the door shut behind you the second you scurry through after him.

"The fuck is wrong with you," he says, slamming an old worn container onto the table a second later. "And don't say nothin', I can tell you ain't right. Seen dead bodies with more life in 'em."

It hadn't occurred to you that he'd know. That he'd see right through you and know that you'd spent the days since Sunday feeling shitty as you curled into yourself. It hadn't occured to you for a second that you might look different - probably just as shit as you felt - and that Joel, a man who never seemed to be put off by anything, might be put off by this. By you.

"You sick?"

You hadn't even noticed he'd stopped rummaging, hands now on his hips as he stares at you with what you could almost mistake for concern. It pulls at you, somewhere deep inside, and you find a need to scramble for the words to reassure him, to tell him you'd be okay in the vaguest terms, that you'd be back to normal next week, if he still wants to go ahead with Sunday, because by fuck do you want to.

But instead, just one word comes out of your mouth in a sudden burst much louder than you intended.

"Period."

Joel blinks. Once. Then twice. As if trying to work something out, or maybe he's disgusted that you bleed, or maybe he's relieved you aren't pregnant at all and the little procedure to keep his swimmers at bay was still effective.

"Y'ain't had one o' them before," he starts. "I mean, since..."

You want to tell him that maybe you have. Maybe you hid it - didn't want him to know - but you both know you're a shit liar.

"Guess eating works wonders," you joke instead, not missing the frown that tugs his brows down, or the way his eyes scan back over your body to settle on the jacket that fits more snug than it ever has, or the thighs that now fill out your jeans.

The entire time, he doesn't make a single move to grab your father's pills. You want to scream at him to hurry up and give them to you - the longer you're standing here, the longer your cunt has to throb and clench at the mere thought of him. For the first time all week, you're not sure the wet feeling between your legs is blood.

"Got everything's you need?" he asks, his eyes briefly flicking down to your belly then back up.

You do. You tell him as much, now keenly aware of the feeling of the cup sat securely inside you as he stares holes through your head, searching for the lie, before giving up and shrugging when he doesn't find one.

He starts rummaging in the small container again, pulling out a half used packet and gesturing to you with it. "You hurtin'?"

You shake your head, turning down his offer of free prescription meds to ease your aches and pains. "Not so much any more."

Joel slowly takes a step towards you, and your pussy pulses again, gripping the cup lodged inside you and making you wish it was something else entirely.

"Still up for fuckin' if you are."

Nothing can keep the scoff of disbelief from bubbling out of your chest. Not two seconds ago you thought that maybe he'd be put off by you, if not by how you looked, then by the mess between your legs.

"No way are you fucking my ass, Joel," you say through a laugh.

He shrugs, before moving closer and pulling open your jacket. "Never said that. A fuckin' is a fuckin', don't matter which hole. Could have you comin' on this cock and leavin' feelin' better than you have in days, if you want it."

"You got a magic dick or something?" You laugh again, though smaller this time as Joel stares down at you through dark lashes.

"Think you know the answer to that better than I do," Joel says, running his tongue along his teeth. "Doubt you been rubbin' that pretty thing between your legs too much these last few days, huh?"

He's not wrong - making yourself come has been the last thing in your mind lately. You spent most of your time Sunday scrambling to find your menstrual cup and learning how to use it all over again so you weren't free bleeding all over the place. Since then your days had been filled with torturously slow work days and hiding away in your room with a pillow cluched firmly to your stomach.

"Didn't think so."

In a blink, he's gone, moving away from you so quickly your head spins. He's pressing the lid firmly back onto the container, the loud clicking echoing around his apartment as he readies it to be stashed away. You look away as he turns from you - not wanting to see if it's hidden in the usual drawer or elsewhere in his home - and turn just in time for a threadbare towel to be thrown your way. It's worn, and stained, but soft and clean in your hands.

"Go get yourself cleaned up."

You gape at him. Mostly in disbelief that he would want to touch you at all right now, but a small part of you stares at his form - broad and strong - wanting desperately to leap on him right here with no mind paid to the thing currently lodged in your cunt, feral with the knowledge that he actually wants you.

"But what about the mess," you say feebly instead, grinding your knuckles into that soft part just below the pooch of your belly as a sudden ache - no doubt brought on by the fluttering in your cunt - takes hold of your womb.

He laughs then, low and throaty, before making his way back to you and gripping your chin between thumb and forefinger.

"Good job I like it when you're a mess for me, sweetheart."

You're gone in a flash - his deep chuckle the only thing you hear as you rush to the bathroom and close the door, stripping down as quickly as you can before hopping into his shower. The water is deliciously warm as it pelts your skin, a forgotten luxury that you wish you'd had two days ago at the worst of your aches. Still, you relish in it, and find yourself tentatively stepping out of the steamy room with the tattered towel wrapped around you and your cup cleaned and discarded on his bathroom sink far sooner than you'd like.

There's a soft yellow light beckoning you into Joel's bedroom as you pad your way across his floor. He's there, just beyond the doorway, laying another towel across faded sheets. His jeans are off and his sweater discarded, his bare, muscular legs flexing with each movement in the golden light as he puts together the space you're about to fall apart in.

"You gonna keep starin'," he says with a final flourish of the towel before giving it a gentle pat with his hand. "Or you gonna sit your ass down before you drip on my floor."

Rolling your eyes, you walk to the bed, Joel barely giving you space to maneouver by him, before doing as your told and sitting your ass down. There's already a soft lump forming in the front of his boxers when you cast your eyes up to him.

"Show me," he says, dragging a finger across your hand where you grip the towel to yourself, and in an instant it drops away from your body, falling into your lap and exposing your chest to him.

"Y'know, I thought they'd got bigger," he says, letting his finger trace from your hand to your palm and down to the soft swelling of your chest. "Bouncin' in my fuckin' face more than usual lately."

His broad hand encases your breast, gently holding but not squeezing as his fingertips caress your soft flesh. His thumb drags gently across your nipple, the sensitive bud of it tightening and sending a zing straight down through to your core. It should hardly come as a surprise to you - the soft fabric of your own t-shirts had been borderline painful in the days leading up to your unpleasant surprise. Still, it makes you gasp, a thing that Joel notices with a cocked eyebrow.

"Ass too," he continues, hands stroking softly at your tender nipple before crouching before you on creaking knees. "I'd fuck it any chance I'd get, but somethin' about it lately..."

Resting back on your palms, you look down at him beyond the swell of your breasts. He's gazing at them, watching as they heave with each breath you take. For good measure, you take in a deep sigh just to watch his eyes darken as they rise and fall right in front of his face.

"Show me," he says again, with a nod and, while his eyes never leave your tits as they sway in front of him, you know what he really means.

Part of you wants to clamp your legs together and hide from him. You want to ask him why - why ever, but mostly why now, when you're like this. But you don't.

Instead, you pull the towel away and let it fall from your thighs. For a second, you wonder if Joel has even noticed. He still seems entranced by the way your tits move. That, or he's somehow being polite - a weird thing to even consider given how very naked and very close to him you are right now.

Then, he flicks his eyes between your legs for a fraction of a second, before standing and pulling his shirt over his head in one smooth movement. The tent in his boxers is even more pronounced now, the trail of hair that slips beneath the waistband drawing your eye easily to the swelling bulge hidden beyond the fabric.

"Eyes up here, sweetheart," Joel says. "Think you can take it?"

He's stroking himself over the fabric now, you can see it in your periphery. His broad hand gently squeezing and rubbing the very thing you wish was in you.

Words lost, you nod. Then, his knee descends to one side of you, calloused hands pushing at your shoulders, and you're falling softly backward until you collide with the mattress, and the worn towel covering it.

The mattress gives way to your weight, dipping softly where you lay. Joel's over you, his massive frame cast in golden light from the lamp as he touches you more gently than you think he ever has. Your nipples pucker, his hands not even close to them as you arch into the touch of his rough palm across your side, your belly, your hip.

And then, he's dipping his fingers between your legs, not caring of the mess that might be there, and drags slick fingers through your folds until you're panting and writhing underneath him, legs spreading and hips rocking your pussy into his hand with each swipe of his wet fingers over your clit. You didn't notice how sensitive you were. The last few days you'd tried your hardest to ignore any sensation coming from your cunt that wasn't an alarming feeling of warm and wet. Now, while you were definitely warm and wet, you were practically electrified too, blood humming with need as Joel gently stroked at your pussy until you were begging him to make you come.

"I'm gonna, sweetheart," he growls. "Gonna make this needy pussy come all over my cock. Make a mess o' me."

You feel yourself flutter as his finger pushes lightly into your waiting hole. You're dripping, no telling really with what at this point, but you don't have it in you to care. He can have the mess he so desperately wants, as long as he makes you come and leaves you panting and bone tired right here on the mattress.

His face burrows into your neck, shrouding you in him while he sucks kisses down and onto your shoulder.

"Joel..." you moan, arching into him again when his finger plunges deep, gently curling forward while his palm grinds against your clit. You could make yourself come on him if he just kept like this. Except, you don't want to. You don't want to do the work. You want to lie here and take it, have him split you open on his cock and work you apart until you crumble underneath him.

He works another into you, shallow thrusts of the digits working you up and sliding easily through you. His thumb finds your clit, swiping messily over it until you twitch and grip his arm, forcing his palm flat against you so you can grind and grind against him. But he stills - the soft kisses he was peppering with you having reached the jiggle of your tits - and looks aup at you with a quirk to his brow.

"Beg me for it," he whispers, pulling his sopping fingers out of you and wiping them on the towel between your legs. "Not gonna fuck you until you do."

Your desperation cuts through the anger that flares in your belly. You were close when he pulled away, his hand now simply teasing the sensitive skin of your thigh. You were so close your cunt was throbbing, sending small aches up through you. Whether they were from him, and the relief he so quickly took from you, or the making of your own body, you couldn't even tell, but you had a sneaking suspicion they were working together to fuck you over. They always did.

"Fuck me, Joel. Please."

Joel is already settling between your thighs, boxers yanked down his legs and cock springing free, by the time you even finish asking. He presses forward, letting his cock slip against you as his mouth hungrily finds your nipple, sucking and making you gasp. A sudden sob wrestles its way out of your chest while he grinds against you, your clit twitching against the slip and slide of his length, your hands finding his arms to steady you. He's solid, and steady above you, while you quake and writhe beneath him - always the picture of fucking composure, even with his cock heavy and dripping between your legs.

He rears back then, completely naked before you, the shadow between his legs ignored as you make a point to stare up at him, his own eyes favoring the mess between your legs rather than your face. His fingers find your thighs again, spreading them, holding them, before lining himself up with your entrance.

As he presses his tip into you, there's something glaringly obvious, and different, that you notice.

He's being gentle with you. Sort of.

And you're not entirely sure you like it. A very big part of you wants him to say fuck it and pound into you, fucking the pain out of your mind to leave you moaning and boneless and far too messy to comprehend. Unfortunately, you're definitely sure that'd hurt much more than it'd actually be enjoyable, and you hate that Joel and his animal brain have understood that before you and yours.

He catches your frown before you do, and rolls his eyes at you with a gentle squeeze to your thighs. His cock is still slipping gently in and out of you, just pushing in past the head, careful not to go too deep too quickly as he spreads you apart to take him.

"I ain't a fuckin' animal. I know when a pussy's gotta be treated sweet and nice and when it needs to be fucked hard."

You really do try not to pout, but the slow drag of him suddenly doesn't feel like enough and it's all you can do not to cross your arms and glare at him. "What if I don't want sweet and nice?"

"Yeah, you do," he whispers, so sure of himself you want to fucking slap him. If his hands weren't so distracting as they slide up and down your thighs, gently massaging away any ache in tandem with his cock in your cunt, you probably would reach up and give a smack to that beautiful fucking face of his. "And even if you think you don't, she does, and, unlucky for you, I ain't listenin' to you right now."

The moment he starts talking about your cunt, his brings his thumb down to gently tease along your lips where he splits you open, drawing a slick combination of your own blood and arousal up to your clit where he swirls it around.

And, traitorous bitch that she is, your pussy throbs in approval, as if to say yes, yes we want sweet and nice, and you know you've lost the battle. Where Joel was concerned, you were a slave to your pussy - it wasn't even a point worth contending at this point, and you're not sure you ever would've fought to hard against it anyway.

So, you nod, slipping your eyes closed as he fucks himself deeper and deeper into you. In an odd way it does feel like a massage - the stiff length of him pushing in past the tense grip of your cunt until you're putty right there on the bed, a leaking, dripping, groaning mess, all of Joel Miller's making. He never bottoms out. Never once hammers home. Never once takes your soft pleas and moans as direction to go faster, harder, even though part of you still wants him to.

You just lie there, soft and pliant against the sheets, taking the steady slip of him in your needy hole until your brain turns to soup in your head.

"Kiss me," you mumble through another moan when his hands drag up your body to swip rough fingers over your nipples again. "Joel, kiss me."

Your legs push back as he falls forward, the sudden movement pushing him deeper and making you gasp. He stops for a moment, searching your eyes as they fly open, pupils blown in the lowlight of his bedroom. He rocks tentatively, at first, before beginning the slow slide in and out of you all over again, until your head thuds back against the mattress.

You'd thought he'd undone you before. Right in this room. You'd thought his fist in you had ruined you, his cock in your ass, his hand in your hair. So many things before now should have torn you apart, but none of that had prepared you for this. The soft, sweet, dirty way Joel Miller fucked all the aches and pains out of you right on his tired mattress.

Through it all, you almost forget you'd asked him to kiss you until his mouth finds yours, and you excitedly accept the pressure of his lips. You'd be embarrassed by it, and by the giddiness in your head as he nips and sucks at your mouth, if you hadn't long lost that feeling around him.

"Forget how much of a slut for kisses you are," he mumbles when he pulls away. "Slut for everythin'."

A weak protest forms in your throat, but his hips jerk forward and silence you with a moan instead.

"No denyin' it. Ain't met many who wanna be split open on this dick when they're on the rag," he's grinning into your shoulder as he taunts you, biting and sucking soft bruises you'll worry about later you as he grinds deeper in you now. "Startin' to think you're some kind of masochist."

You can feel his smile against your skin - a sign he already knows by now that that's more than true. Even so, like most things with Joel, this wasn't something you'd even considered before, let alone considered you might enjoy, until he did it. There's an ache as he stretches you, sure. And an ache in your belly too. And, somehow, one is soothing the other, the grip you have around his cock distracting you from any other feeling in your body as he slides through the mess between the two of you, bringing you close to a euphoria that feels deeper in your belly than it ever has.

He notices the change before you do. Your soft, contented moans turn into deep yearning cries as he grinds his cock deep, heavy balls sitting wetly against your ass as your slicked up hole seems to draw him in further and further. His fingers push between you, the slip of sweat, and blood, and your own slick easing his digits between your bodies until he finds your clit again.

With a soft movement, he jerks it between two fingers, watching and listening as you whine pathetically, eyes pressed so tight you see stars. A quick slip lower, feeling the sticky slip of you around his cock that has the telltale feel of your arousal and not blood, he moves back up and begins swiping his finger over your swollen clit in earnest.

Your clit twitches and pulses beneath his finger, your cunt fluttering around his solid length as it slowly presses into you, barely moving, just watching as you become exactly the kind of mess you feel.

It aches, and it hurts, and it feels so fucking good that you sob out a cry, a moan, a garbled plea, all at once as you come, shaking into the deep arch of your back as he fucks slowly and slowly and slowly, his fingers sliping endlessly against your clit, jerking the nub until you can do nothing but let out a deep, breathy, scream.

"That's it," he groans, his own cock throbbing in you as you pulsate around him. "Messy fuckin' girl. Come on it. Come all over it."

"Please," you gasp stupidly, not knowing what you're begging for, the height of your orgasm coming crashing down as it suddenly all feels too much. "Please."

While you don't know what you're begging for, it seems like Joel does. One moment his hand is between you, and the next it's rubbing against the towel before gripping gently at your shoulder, holding you steadily underneath him as you shudder and gasp.

And then, like reading your deepest wishes straight from your mind, he starts rocking in shallow thrusts - unsatisfying on their own, but paired with the filth from his mouth, it sends you close to the edge all over again.

"There we go," he moans in your ear, breathy and desperate as you. "S'all you needed."

You're starting to think Joel Miller's cock maybe is all you need - for some people it's love, or riches, but for you, at least in this moment, the heavy length impaling you and curing all your ailments is all you need. For now, at least.

He's wrecking himself with it all too, you notice. The way the pressure of his hands on your body increases and releases over and over as he fights with himself to be gentle as he fucks you to his own release isn't helped by the way his mind is racing, his mouth barely keeping up with whatever filth is rattling around in his mind.

"Gonna take it. Gonna dump my load right in this messy fuckin' hole. Y'gonna be fillin' up that fuckin' cup with my cum after this. Gonna be spillin' outta you. Needy - fuckin' - slut."

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes," you babble, holding onto his arms through his gentle thrusts, your cunt threatening an orgasm even as a new ache settles back into your core.

"Like bein' a slut for me?" he gasps. "Like bein' mine?"

"Yeah. Yours. Please, Joel. Fuck."

"Tell me. Tell me s'mine."

"It's yours. Your hole. I'm your needy - fuck - hole!"

"Damn fuckin' right you're my needy fuck hole. Fuck. Shit. You want this?"

And god you do. You want more besides, but right now you'll take it, on the brink of coming as the rough thatch of hair at the base of his cock grinds relentlessly into your clit.

"Said, do you want this."

His shallow thrusts speed up, and you just about have time to gasp out a yes before you're twitching and coming hard around his cock again. He follows soon behind, gasped curses bitten into your shoulder as your hands slip against his sweat soaked sides, filling your cunt with thick ropes of cum, thanking him in mindless chants as you feel each pulse of his cock fill you more and more.

You're limp and just about as lifeless as he said you looked when he first opened the door. You don't care. You feel more relaxed than you have all week, the pain completely gone as a warm floaty feeling courses through your veins.

Joel pulls out, asking if you're all good and accepting the wobble of your head as a yes, before wiping his cock with the towel and using it to gently wipe at your thighs.

There's not as much mess as you expected, as you look down. You expected carnage - a bloodbath - but there's nothing more than a soft streak of red on the towel when he pulls it away and tosses it into the corner.

He flops heavily next to you, pulling part of the towel you're laying on over your body in a vague attempt to keep you warm as you both come down. The chill in the room had been kept at bay until now, mostly thanks to Joel's body heating yours from the inside out. Now, sweat dries on both of your bodies, and you find yourself shifting closer to his warmth to stave off the cold.

"Y'think these gonna be a regular thing now?" he asks as he tugs part of his bedsheet over himself.

You shrug, offering up your uncertainty. It had been years since your last - your fathers declining health and your subsequent lack of good meals had seen to that. There was no telling if there'd be any regularity to them and, if you were being honest, you didn't want to see one again for a very long time.

He's silent for a second, thoughtful features pinching in the warm light of his bedroom before he speaks again.

"Alright. How 'bout I give you that ass fuckin' in a couple weeks, then?"

It's not exactly what you expected. You'd almost forgotten about it yourself. But, now, as he pins a new date for your promised rude awakenin' you find yourself ready to pout again, this time at the idea of having to wait two more weeks.

"Two weeks? I'll probably be finished with this by the end of the week. I can come over Sunday, or in the week or -"

"I know," he says simply. "Like the idea of you bein' like a bitch in heat and me fuckin' a load into your ass when your cunt is so desperate for it, though."

Anything you were going to say is totally lost in an instant, your jaw flapping on its hinges as you try and fail to find the words that were just on the tip of your tongue. Any protest, question, or suggestion, is gone and, you realize, replaced with one thing, and one thing only.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

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letstrip13 · 3 months ago

Text

🧼 - dirty dishes

summary: needy!matt wants to help you with the dishes

warnings: smutttt, unprotected sex, uhhh i think that's it

word count: 1,506

author's note: this was going to be a blurb but it's actually a fic now because i said so. also i think it's way too long to be a blurb now anyways

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warm sunshine beams through the open blinds of the kitchen window above the sink. warm water is rushing out of the faucet as suds and bubbles start to form around the piles of dishes.

you're standing in front of it, watching and waiting for it to fill up. you had cuddled with matt for a while until he had fallen asleep next to you; the poor boy had been so tired from constant meetings about merch and filming a car video late into the night. chris had went to the warehouse to check the new fresh love samples and nick was in a meeting about the next steps for space camp.

so while everyone was busy, you decided to help the boys out by tidying up the kitchen and living room. the living room was finished, everything back in its place now. the kitchen was almost done, it would be as soon as you did the dishes. you could've just used the dishwasher but unfortunately, it wasn't working right at the moment and needed to be repaired.

now, here you are, standing at the sud-filled sink while using a dish sponge to scrub the plates from last night’s dinner. the sink has two sides so one is soaking with soapy water while the faucet is turned to the other, empty side so you can rinse the dishes off without flooding the sink.

you get into sort of a rhythm, forgetting everything else around you and only focusing on the task at hand. you feel a warm hand slip around your waist and you jump, the sharp knife falling from your grip and clattering in the sink as a yelp escapes your lips. you turn to see your boyfriend with an apologetic smile on his face, running his hand through his hair, still messed up from his nap. all he’s wearing is a pair of blue plaid pajama pants, having removed his shirt due to the heat in his bedroom.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says in a husky, still-tired voice. “it’s okay,” you reply with a soft smile before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. you notice his eyes rake over your body, taking in the sundress you’re wearing; a pretty pastel green with tie-up straps, little bows resting on your shoulders.

he doesn’t say anything so you turn back around to finish up washing the dishes. “i’m almost done, love. what do you wanna do after?” “hmm i don’t know..” he trails off as his arms snake around your waist. he presses hot kisses to your neck, murmuring in between, “need any help with that?”

your cheeks heat up in a blush as you feel his lips graze the sweet spot on your neck. “i’ve only got like four bowls left. why don't you go get dressed? maybe we can go out and do something.” a sort of whine escapes him and he presses himself closer to you so you can feel his clothed bulge against your ass.

you put down the dish you were holding, not being able to focus on anything other than him. “matt-” “please, need you so bad.” it seemed like his mood had done a full 180, but you weren't entirely complaining. “i’m almost done,” you reassure him.

he starts moving his hips, grinding so slow and subtle that you hardly even notice at first. he reaches a hand up your skirt as he does this, slowly pushing your panties away from your slick folds. his fingers gently tease you, earning a small moan from you. “can't you finish this later? need you now,” he practically begs.

you want to say yes right then and there; the way his finger is slowly circling your clit while not quite touching right on it is enough to make you melt in his arms. but you want to see how bad he really wants this, you love the way he gets needy for you.

since you’d been continuing to wash the dishes throughout this interaction, you were now almost done. matt lets out a whine of impatience as he watches you, still pressing his body against yours. you grind your ass back against his clothed bulge, stifling a smirk as he groans from the contact.

“i can't take it anymore,” he mumbles. but all he does is hold your hip tighter. “well, why don't you do something about it?” you tease, “you've just been standing behind me the whole time, barely doing anything.”

that's all it takes. with a sudden burst of desire, he quickly turns you around to face him and heatedly kisses your lips. he pulls away a few moments later, leaving you with a stunned expression on your face. “not so cocky now, are you, princess?” he lets out a small chuckle. he pushes the straps of your dress down your shoulders, his hands immediately coming up to palm your tits, squeezing them in his hands a little. “are you sure you want to do this right here?” you simply nod but he stares down into your eyes. “words, sweetheart. i wanna hear you say it.” “yes.”

that one word was enough for him and he moves his hands to your hips to spin you around so your back is to him. he reaches up your skirt and pulls your panties down, letting them fall to your ankles. you can hear him fumbling with the fabric of his pajama pants. you bend over and pull your skirt up, getting ready for him. suddenly, you remember to turn the tap off just before you feel the tip of his cock as it brushes against your entrance.

you share a moan as he slowly pushes into you, filling you up. luckily, he doesn’t take his sweet time teasing you like usual; you know that chris and nick could come home any minute. almost as if he read your mind, he speaks during his quick yet deep thrusts into you, “gotta make this quick, sweetheart.. don’t want my brothers to see you like this. i’m the only one who can.”

his hands trail from your hips to your tits, holding them in his warm palms as he continues to pound into you from behind. you moan as he hits just the right spot inside of you, like always. it’s not just a filling thing in the physical sense, but in an emotional way too. in the course of your relationship, you and matt have opened up to each other so much. you’ve gotten so comfortable with him that vulnerable situations don’t even feel vulnerable anymore. you just feel full, complete, happy.

his warms lips on your neck bring you back down to earth. there’s that familiar knot forming in your stomach and by the way his thrusts are getting faster and less rhythmic, you can tell he’s feeling the same way. your moans have grown in volume and he’s thrown his head back in pleasure. you tightly grip onto the counter, bracing yourself as that wonderful feeling washes over you. your walls clench around his cock as you cry out his name.

he follows right behind you, spilling his release into you as his movements fade to a slow rut of his hips. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting kisses there as you both recover from your blissful highs.

the sound of a key in the front door quickly jolts the both of you back to reality. he quickly pulls out and tucks his now half-soft dick back into his pants. you rush to pull your underwear back up and pull the straps of your dress back onto your shoulders to cover yourself. you both attempt to fix your messy hair and catch your breath as nick’s laughter echoes as he comes up the stairs.

“hey guys. how’d everything go?” you ask trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, trying to ignore the feeling of matt’s cum slowly seeping out of you and soaking your panties.

nick tells you that the meeting went really well and everything is going great with space camp but chris seems less than thrilled because the fresh love hoodies didn’t turn out quite right. chris suddenly notices that the living room and kitchen look much different than when he left. his gaze falls on you. “did you do all this?”

“yeah, i was up early and thought i’d give you guys one less thing to worry about.” the both of them thank you profusely, saying you didn’t have to. “it’s fine, really. matt helped me.” matt who had remained silent until now coughs and cracks a weak smile, croaking out a soft, “yeah.”

“must’ve been some hard work. you look like you just ran ten laps around the house.” you and matt exchange a look, internally grateful by how absolutely oblivious his brothers could be. “yeah, something like that..” he mumbles as he turns the faucet on to finish those last few utensils and a bowl that you had abandoned.

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dilf-docs · 2 months ago

Text

X Si Volvemos

ex older bf!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: there are many things you and logan disagree in; but not when it comes to things in bed.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (phew), smut, ex!logan, exes to ????, p in v, creampie, reader's in her early to middle twenties so her frontal lobe hasn't developed yet; don't expect any reasonable thinking on her side, logan is on his middle to late 40s, angst (duh), this happens in an AU where mutants don't exist bc i don't wanna complicate myself with timelines lol hence time isn't really important but it's contemporary, the vibes i bring to the function are more sad than horny and i'm sorry, toxic too! may build a series around it?

word count: 1,925 words

side note: the incredible @bpmiranda's got me with a very bad case of ex!logan fever :( plus after listening to karol G's album mañana será bonito and seeing i may or may not be obssesed with romeo santos, i got the song in the title on loop: as you can see, it's all very fitting ++ don't forget to check out her stories, they're so good istg!!!!

You shouldn't call.

"Logan" you speak. His name burns in the tip of your tongue, like a secret you're not supposed to tell.

He shouldn't answer.

It's quiet at first on the other line, until a rough voice says I'm here, appearing to be distant, but who is he trying to fool? As soon as he saw the number pop on the screen, his fingers moved with a learned urgency.

You shouldn't keep calling.

"I need you" three words to cover those you actually mean; hanging in the spaces between the silence.

I miss you. I love you.

Your hear a heavy sigh on the other end.

He shouldn't keep answering.

"Princess..." Logan pleads, "don't do this"

You know better than that, he wants to say, but keeps his mouth shut. Just to hear your voice, just to-

"Please, Lo" you whine out. Logan grabs his jeans with force, the fabric strained under his white-knuckled grip. It takes him a lot not to run to you right there and now.

"Don't" but his voice cracks as much as his resistance.

"I've got the house" you whisper the prayer; a routine so sacred none of you seem to break it, "just for us"

"Y/n" even saying your name is painful; like the most addicting and damaging drug to ever exist, "stop"

Logan loved your stubborn heart, but there are times where he wishes you weren't like this.

"I'm sorry" and then he hangs up.

I'm sorry for not being who you needed. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I keep on coming back after I said I would leave you alone. I'm sorry I can't keep my promises.

You feel it around your neck―bruises in the vocals your voice has failed to scream; it chokes you with rage.

"Are you stupid?" you ask yourself in the mirror.

What are you doing? Why are you doing this to yourself? Do you love him more than you love you?

You dial again, but this time, it's a girl who picks up.

"Yeah?"

"Hi. Wanna go out?"

Logan feels so out of place, but this used to be your favorite bar, and he's desperate for a drink.

Listening to your voice has always made him weak, but after you broke up, it drives him crazy.

He empties another glass, feeling pathetic. This is how bad it's gotten: you've got him scouring the places you used to go, chasing your ghost, trying to get a glimpse of your silhouette or a whiff of the phantom of your scent, the lavender haunting him; getting under his skin.

A song beggins playing, and it's the same vinyl set from two years ago. The night he met you: a pretty young thing so out of place in an old bar like that, playing hard to get, only to end the night moaning over him, fogging his car's windows, saying his name in a way no one else had before. He still remembers the way your legs trembled but he held you, beads of sweat confusing themselves with the glitter on your skin. Logan doesn't know what that is, but he's marveled, so in awe of you, everything of you: young, new, exciting.

But every new thing wears out, and the gap he swore wouldn't matter came crashing in years that built a distance between him and you.

So he did what he did best: ruin it. Deny the feelings bubbling inside; let them consume his reasoning, pushing you like he had done with everyone who cared about him before.

When he broke your heart, he took a part with him. So you keep coming back, looking for it; trying to piece yourself together. And he let's you: because God knows you have a part of himself too.

He's so drunk he probably imagines the hint of lavender in the whiskey tinted air. He's so desperate to see you again, he's seeing your face among the crowd. He's definitely gone insane: hearing that laugh he misses every day.

"Y/n..."

The music pauses: all you can hear is your name being said in that way like it belongs to him.

"...Logan"

He walks in autopilot over to the table you and a group of girls are sitting. They're all beautiful―beautiful people attract beautiful people, but he's only got eyes for you.

"What are you doing here?"

He raises a glass he didn't know he was carrying, "having a drink".

Your lips purse, and Logan doesn't know if it's because you're laughing at him or sad.

"I see" but you divert your gaze, looking at your outfit's neck. The outfit you chose: a black dress that pushes your tits on top. They are on display, and Logan feels played by you―his eyes trained on the strained fabric, tongue watering like it did when he would lick your sensitive nipples.

"I see too" he says in automatic, and one of your friends laughs. He looks away, thanking the low lights, or you'd see the red embarrassment on his face.

You stand up and walk over to him, and your friends sense it's time to leave the two of you alone.

"Why did you hang up?" you throw the question so casually; the nerve you have.

"What do you mean?" it's the only thing that comes to his mind. Very stupid, indeed.

You scoff, "delete my number, then"

"You keep on calling" he bites back.

"And you keep answering"

You never shut up. He hates that.

"I may have to stop"

You get closer, way too closer. So much, your hot breathe clouds his judgment.

"Try to" you dare.

And he tries, he really tries. But not today.

Not today when he takes you home, finally looking complete with you in it again. You had moved out after your last discussion, saying you'll never be back.

"You haven't changed a thing" you murmur in between kisses, and he can sense a bit of melodrama in his voice that makes him roll his eyes despite the dull ache on his chest.

He picks up your body swiftly, carrying you up to the bedroom.

"Why would I?" he asks, voice so low and small you almost miss it.

"Because you hate me" you avoid his eyes, even if your faces are too close, loosing all that corageous character of yours, "said you would get rid of it; of everything that reminded you of me"

But when he drops you softly on the matress, there's still that lamp you got him in the night table.

"I couldn't" he confesses.

I couldn't, he means, because I couldn't let you go.

But you both know it won't work out, something you knew right from the start: because toxic loves only fulfill basic needs. This isn't healthy, but he forgets it all as soon as you're moaning his name. Still, he promises himself he will say goodbye to you this time, even if it's inside of you.

"Shut up and kiss me, then" you're always pushing him around, making him do the things he desires to but doesn't want to do.

So he obliges, leaning in, the lavender so strong all over your sweet skin, poisoning his mouth on every kiss he leaves. He feels you squirm under him, goosebumps along your skin, prickling against his, so visible he can see and feel it even in the dim lit room.

"Take it" Logan doesn't look at you, but when he does, you feel him stare deep into your soul, "I know you want it"

He's sliding his dick inside you as soon as the sentence is over, the permission to take you and use you implicit. He robs a drawn-out groan out of you.

"So tight for me" he murmurs against your shoulder, sharp breaths and soft groans flooding your ears. His cock hits deep within you, hard thrust no one has ever been able to replicate, making you gasp for air, burying your face in the plush pillows now drenched in your sweat.

"You're so deep" you hiss, hot and overwhelmed, waves of pleasure hitting like water against cliffside rocks. "So big, Lo" you whine, dizzy at the way your pussy stretches for him.

"Just for you" he grunts out, and it's the truth. No matter how dark the room is or how many faces he avoids, he always looks into the eyes of the other women he fucks, his heart sinking when he can no longer pretend it's you, "fuck, squeeze a bit more".

Hearing his deep voice, rough when you fuck, always making you soak, coating his dick in your juices. You grip tight, as tight as the nails that hold onto his shoulders, making him moan at the pain.

"Like that, princess. Good girl" you moan at the praise, "I know you could take me, all of me"

He grunts and pants, holding you tighter as his cock pumps faster, in sync with your now closer to happening orgasm.

Before it, he slows down his thrusts, "where do you want me to cum, princess?"

He wants to, inside of you, but he can't do so, not when he promised he wouldn't ruin your life. But making you his, marking you as only his, makes his dick inside you twitch. Fuck, he's so balls deep inside you all he can think is filling you up silly.

"Inside me, Lo" like you read his thoughts, and it always amazes and scares him; how deep inside his mind you are. Never happened, not in his four decades of life. And that's part of the problem: he's closer to death than you are but it's only with you, young―blossoming with life, that he feels truly alive.

So how can he say no, when you plead and beg with those pretty doe eyes of yours? Who could imagine such a sweet thing to be so needy. He feels like you could ask for his heart, and he'd carve a hole in his body for you―bleeding out of love; dying with a smile.

"Such a greedy little thing, princess" he mocks, but his tone betrays him―dripping in adoration, "want me to fill you up all nice?"

A broken wail is what he takes as your answer, your mind in blank.

He finds himself letting go, way faster than he should; he just misses you and your needy dripping pussy that much. You can't hold back longer either, rush flowing through your veins, much more satisfying than the alcohol you had drank an hour ago.

Logan paints your insides with layers of his hot cum, mumbling a soft:

"Anything for my princess" he keeps going, panting as he's milked entirely dry, "anything you want, my girl"

Your vision is still spotty, mind fogged: you're sure that's the reason the hurt hasn't settled in your heart yet.

Then the silence comes, like it always does now.

"Y/n" you always love when he calls you by your name, but you hate the way he's saying it now. Like a goodbye.

"Don't-" you plead, begging he shuts up. But he pulls out, and says:

"It's for the best"

You don't want what's best. You want him.

"Can't believe you wore this dress" he traces the pattern of the tight clothes, damped in sweat, "you know it's my favorite. Why?"

You fail to supress a smile, even if it's tired and almost sad, "I knew you couldn't say no".

The truth is, you know many things: like how this is never going to stop until it's destroyed you both.

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aayakashii · 4 months ago

Text

how do they ask for consent?

Warning: NSFW, not super explicit but still gtfo if you're a minor.

Consent is sexy!! I had this idea in a dream and I had to write it (⃔ *`꒳´ * )⃕↝

Also, if some of these characters can't touch or be touched, well. Now they can. GET TOUCHED IDIOT 🫳👉🤲🤚🤜🤲🫵👐🫳👉🫸🫱🖐🤝👐👇🤌🫷🫴👉🤲🫲👐👈🤝🤲

Jin

He feels disgraceful, but the white hot feeling in his groin can't be ignored any longer. He glares at you, the reason for his predicament, and threads his fingers through your hair. You can see the conflict in his eyes as he gets closer, his white porcelain skin tinted pink and hot to your touch. And when he presses his lips against yours, all doubt fades away. He holds your body like it's his lifeline and when your lips part, he allows himself to say one word he would never say to anyone else but you: "please".

Tohma

He desperately holds one of your hand with both of his and kisses each one of your knuckles, slowly – a plea for you to allow him to touch you further as his gaze burns deep into your eyes. He deliberately kisses you with an open mouth, the wet sound of his lips bringing shivers down your spine, much to his pleasure. Once you nod, he finally allows himself to pull you flush against his body. There's no running away from him now.

Kaito

All blushes and stutters. His eyes are hazed and his breath comes out in puffs while he tries to voice out his desire for you, but fails. His face is mere inches from yours and his gaze is so intense that it could burn. He places his hands onto your shoulders, fingers digging into your skin as he pushes the fabric of your shirt away. Give him permission or take him out of his misery. He's been in your hands since the beginning.

Lucas

He sits on his feet, a hand on top of his chest so he can feel his own racing, loud heart. He opens and closes his mouth, trying to think of the words to say. Once he finally gathers the courage, he simply mumbles a "can I?" and he hates how feverish he sounds. His heart takes a bigger leap when he feels your hand against his cheek and the flustered smile on your face when you say yes. He quickly realizes that being yours is something he could get used to.

Alan

His hands fist the sheets of your bed, knuckles going white with the effort. He nuzzles his nose against your cheeks and he pants, hot breath against your skin, haggard like you stole all the air from his lungs – and you might as well have done that. Self-control shackles him in place, but anguished desire pulls him to you and he feels his restraint rip apart. And still, he'll never ask, but he'll silently scream for your permission – permission to place his wretched hands all over your body. If you're able to hear it, let him dive into you. He's starved of your touch.

Leo

It's not so simple. First, he needs to cross over the hurdle of his own shame. He is just embarrassed that he needs you so much, but once he accepts it, he's an unstoppable force: doe eyes, batting eyelashes and bratty pouts to convince you of touching him right where he needs you. He's all arms over your shoulders and kisses on the corner of your lips until you give him the answer he wants. And once you do, he promises you won't forget the feeling of his skin against yours.

Sho

It's simple. He doesn't fight himself when it comes to you. His scarred knuckles run gently over the skin of your cheeks and his lips brush over yours, as he breathes deeply to ask for your permission to take things further, loud and clear despite the slight tremble in his voice – permission to fulfill all the feverish dreams he has at night when he's alone and no party can substitute the high of your skin against his. Allow him to taste you like you do his food.

Haru

His hands find their refuge on the plush of your hips. From this up close, you can see small freckles peppering his sweaty skin, surely a consequence of all his work under the sun, and the pretty blush spreading through his face. Haru licks his dried lips, hands still kneading your hips as he gulps, readying himself to ask you for your touch – he figures that, at this point, he was ready to beg. He rests his forehead against yours and a sunny smile spreads on his face when you give him permission into your body. He never knew how much he wanted you until now.

Towa

He kisses you under the stars, in the middle of the fields, on top of the hills, in the deepest caves. If you need him to prove his love to you, he'll spend a lifetime smothering you in kisses, waiting until you reveal your most intimate parts to him. Every kiss will be a question, but he doesn't need an answer. He just loves to love you. He lets you take the reigns and choose the timing. Whenever you allow him in you, it'll be perfect and romantic enough for him. He just wants you to love him back.

Ren

He worries you might run as soon as he shows interest. He wants it, he so desperately wants it, but what if he messes it all up? What if you don’t feel the same? Ren gets so tangled up in the "what ifs" that it takes a while for him to get out of his own head. His question is hurried and mumbled, like he's trying to quickly rip out a bandaid so it'd hurt less; so the shame would drown him in one go once you refuse his touches. Suffice to say, he's confused once you open yourself to him. He thinks you're insane, but he'd be damned to let this chance pass.

Taiga

He kneels in front of you and licks a long stripe on your clothed crotch. He glares at you from under his lashes – a predatory gaze if you've ever seen one – while his teeth pierce the waistband of your pants, pulling it just a little, while his hands greedily clutch handfuls of your bottom. He could rip your clothes off in seconds if he wanted to, but he patiently waits for you to answer his silent question. It's so much nicer when you beg for him.

Romeo

He recognizes he is a man of many sins – pride and greed have been part of him since his early age. So it's rather ironic when it all sends him into a spiral of conflict when it comes to you. His pride prevents him from outright asking you for your attention, but his greed demands you all for himself. A new sin, however, overpowers everything: lust. He can't run, can't hide from the stirring in his insides when he sees you. It is then, that trapping you between himself and one of the golden walls of his office, he finally asks you, breathless and flustered, if you'd help him quell this urge.

Ritsu

He hates everything that he can't understand. Things he can't organize, control, jot down on his notes or record in his phone. Still, he can't help but be addicted to this maddening desire he feels for you, deep inside his core. It's unpredictable, unreliable, and beyond his comprehension. But he loves it. Words, to him, have never been a problem, not even when he's embarrassed beyond belief. He holds your hands firmly and openly tells you of his feelings – of his needs. And if you'll have him, he'll do his best. Just like with everything he does in his life.

Subaru

He can't find the words to explain himself to you. The blush on his neck, his cheeks and the tip of his ears burn his skin, and he pants – velvety smooth lips pouting with the weight of the words he can't say. He reaches out for your hand, holding it gently against his cheeks and he stares at you with a gaze so lustful that you shiver, as if he managed to strip you bare with a single look. He hopes you understand his gestures and give him reprieve from the need in his body. Set those words stuck in his throat free, with your touch, please.

Haku

His hands glide up and down your arms, fingertips hover gently over your skin to elicit goosebumps – he takes his sweet, sweet time with all of it. He places kisses on your jaw and begs you not to be cruel and to please, please let him in. He's his family disgrace – what is dignity to him when you, of all people, are involved? If you wanted to, he'd get down on his knees and kiss your feet like a devotee worshipping his deity. He'd pray for you to let him have you. All for you to allow him to touch the parts of your body he has only dreamed of.

Zenji

He does not hesitate to voice his desires loud and clear. Gently tilting your chin up to look into his red eyes as he asks you whether you'd give him the honor of being intimate with you after smothering you with hot, loud kisses. His intensity is suffocating. Having someone loving you so openly and loudly is dizzying and it's okay my love, he understands. The lightest touch already inspires him more than any poet's muse ever did. He'll patiently wait (though with bated breath) for you to turn his world upside down once you let him in.

Not even over 400 years of life could prepare him for this surprise – a weathered vampire, lusting for a meek little human. He wastes no time inside his mind and goes straight to you. His arms embrace your waist, and his lips place dangerous kisses on the column of your neck – tongue darting out to feel the inviting pulse of your carotid artery. He whispers his question while nibbling the lobe of your ear and, if you're not ready yet, it's okay. He can be patient, but don't make him wait too much. He needs to eat and you smell like his new favorite food.

Rui

He's confident in his ability to convince you. He knows cute winks and silly flirts won't work, don't worry. He decides to be honest: to hold you flush against his body, arms circling your waist as he rests his forehead against yours. He whispers in secrecy how much he is desperate to touch you, to feel you against his tongue, his fingertips, his skin. He wonders if you'd have him, yours to do as you please. When you smile in the kiss you place upon his lips as an answer, Rui melts down under you, relief washing over his body. All that's left is this maddening lovesickness that feels incurable. But anyway, simplicity sometimes is best.

Lyca

He's confused, and maybe a little scared. He burrows his face in the crook of your neck and drowns himself in your scent – only for the feeling to worsen. He bares his teeth, the need to bite down on your flesh and never let you go almost overwhelming him. You're the only one he trusts with this. Would you help him? He knows it's embarrassing, but you're the only person he can think of at the moment, the only one he wants. He can barely control his hips as he helplessly humps against your thigh. He's sorry, he's sorry. Please take him into your arms and help him?

Yuri

He wonders for a second if he should treat you like an experiment. On... how would he feel during and after intercourse. He sighs, knowing his excuse is terrible. It's hard, admitting to himself that he wanted you. But maybe telling you was still harder. He decides to announce it, like he would announce the results of an exam. It's easier, and he feels less like dying this way. He stammers, cheeks furiously red, as he tries to ask you for your "cooperation" and sighs, running a hand on his sweaty forehead when you smile and agree. Don't tease him. He has no experience in this. If you want him to be more romantic, he'll need practice. You'll practice with him, won't you?

Jiro

Jarring, is how he'd act. As soon as he realized he wanted to be intimate with you, he made a beeline towards your door. Things are simple with Jiro, no need for convoluted explications. He wants you, do you want him back? He makes his point clear by grabbing your hand and placing it on his crotch and you nearly faint at the feeling of him already eager for you. He'd truly appreciate it if you accepted. Just be aware that these things are chronic, okay? Therefore, he might need your assistance again quite soon.

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leonsgfpost · 4 months ago

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note: Hi! this is my third official post, crazy stuff. Thanks so much for all the support, I didn't think my trash was any good 😭 Btw, I hope you enjoy this too. English isn't my first language, so sorry if there's a mistake. 💕

tags: smut, comfort, insecurities, Leon is so cute, Leon x fem! reader, doggy style, orgasms and more!

Leon loves you madly. He really does. So every time you ask that question, "Do you love me?" he answers honestly, just because he can't tear his heart out and give it to you.

This man is capable of lowering the moon if you ask him to, he would do anything for you. He is honest, he doesn't lie. He wakes you up with soft kisses, on his days off he hugs you as if you were the only thing that keeps him grounded. You are everything to him.

And it's not that you doubt him, but different situations in your past led you to be insecure, to a sour whirlpool forming inside you about it. About him. Even now, when he's balls-deep inside you.

"Leon, Leon-" You murmured between ragged gasps, feeling his chest pressing hard against your back holding you in place. Taking every thrust he gave you. "Do you love me-?" And that feeling inside you came again. You felt like crying. Maybe from the pleasure, or maybe from the overwhelming sensations.

For a moment you think he doesn't hear you because of his current state. Heavy breathing, eyes tightly closed, body sweaty and his mind blank every time he sinks down to touch that spongy spot inside you.

But he wouldn't miss a hair of yours.

"I love you, I do, dear.... More than anything." He affirmed again, because he would repeat it to you every time you want. And the question sounds unreal in his fucked up head, of course he loves you. You're the only person he can open up to, show that young man who died inside him in 1998. He even took the audacity to have hopes, dreams again. Because next to you nothing seemed impossible.

"I love you, I love you." He murmured in your ear along with the low moans he couldn't contain, not when your walls were sucking him in so good. And I'd be lying if I said not now he's the one who wants to cry. He'd kiss every part of your body, kiss you all over until he could make you forget everything. Just like he does when he's with you.

His hips try to keep his deep rhythm, while his arms search for a way to embrace you to keep him grounded. Your ass is smacked by his pelvis every time he plunges in, over and over again with ambition. The wet sound of your wet pussy is the complete opposite of the cute words coming from Leon's lips.

"You're the only one for me, you're everything to me...Oh, G-God-" Now he started to ramble, trying to get his whole cock inside you until he can fuck your brains out and make you forget.

"Fuck, I love you, baby-!" His voice was already shaking, but I didn't know if it was from the effort of pushing you or the effort not to cry over you like a fucking baby.

"C-Come on, say you love me too." His voice tried to sound demanding, but it sounded like a plea. A desperate plea to know that you loved him too, because he wanted to be loved. He needed it.

"I love you, Leon. I-I love you, I love you so much." You said obediently, your voice coming out choked from having your face buried in the sheets. Your hair was disheveled, little beads of sweat trickling down your back and trembling thighs trying to support your weight. And little tears began to fill the corners of your eyes.

Maybe he had already fucked your brains out.

And Leon's chest tightened, pushing his lips carelessly into your hot cheeks. He was always so sweet even when he was fucking you like you were a slut. His cock bullying your bruised pussy again and again, because he couldn't catch a break. You were the air he needed to feel alive.

You made him feel alive.

As alive as he was now, as his hips began to quiver and his thrusts became sloppy, feeling his cock contracting tightly inside your walls. He could lose his mind right now for you.

His fingers moved down to play with your painfully throbbing clit, you let out a high pitched moan and your walls tightened feeling the familiar euphoria explode inside you, your orgasm coming in a sloppy way. Your body immediately relaxed into the sheets, trying to recover, but Leon wouldn't slow down, not when he was so close too.

He released your clit to run a sticky hand up to one of your tits, kneading it as if it were his own anti-stress toy. He carelessly kissed your wet cheeks and his hips pushed all the way in, releasing all his seed inside you. His cock contracted and discounted with spasms, giving you all of him.

"I love you." He whispered weakly, hugging you and trying not to fall on top of you. His heart beating fast in his chest, beating for you.

Because Leon Scott Kennedy loves you more than anyone. And he would devote every day of the rest of his life to prove it to you, if you let him.

were there too many "I love you"s? haha, sorry! But I can't help but think that Leon really needs a lot of love.

Let me know if u liked this, thanks!! 🎀💗

bye, bye (💌)

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #re4 leon #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy smut

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rainyorca · 6 months ago

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You know I love you girl 𓇼 Kenji Sato X Reader

Content warnings: F!reader, hurt, comfort, established relationship, smut, pnv, cunnilings.

Words: 2,029

Notes: Probably my last short one until I finish my long form one. Anyways, I am all about soft kenji so pls enjoy <33.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

Sometimes, not so often, you and Kenji will get into these little disagreements, simple fights in other words. And sometimes, neither of you will apologize, you’ll both go to sleep angry, backs facing each other rather than holding each other. You both need your space after fights, a little time to really sit and think, and then you’ll apologize or he’ll apologize and things will be back to normal.

But recently, you got upset about something that started this whole problem. You can put up with Kenji’s life as a celebrity, him taking pictures with fans and doing the whole sports celebrity thing but him being gone all the time bothers you a bit. You were fine with it before but something about it just really grinds your gears now. You don't say anything about it at first, that is until he tells you a specific time he's coming home, and then he comes home hours later without saying a word. The first time it happened you brushed it off, he apologized, explained what happened and that was that.

However, around the fourth time, you explained to him why it was making you upset, and asked him why he kept forgetting to let you know. Kenji isn't a cheater, you know that very well, he would never do anything like that to you but you just can't help but wonder what he's up to.

“I don't understand why it's so hard to at least send me a text,” you say, your tone firm but voice rather soft. You never yell, rarely ever raise your voice, Kenji is the same way except sometimes he can get a little carried away. “I just dont see the problem, you have my location,” he points out, the tone of his voice makes you nearly lose it. You two had been going at it for thirty minutes now and you were about fed up, tired of his excuses. “It doesn't matter that I have your location,” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest, “It’s still important that you tell me you're gonna be a little late, if you just sent me a text, we wouldn't even be having this conversation.” Some harsh words were said from the both of you, the argument about his absence turning into a fight about a plethora of other things. Eventually you gave up, frustrated and upset, eyes stinging with tears, you decided to go to bed a little earlier that night.

About an hour later, you're still awake, staring at the dark ceiling. You left the curtains open to let some cool light from the city and moon pour in. The familiar click of the door opening could be heard throughout the silent room, you turn around, back facing the door to avoid any contact. Kenji stands in the doorway, shirtless, the scent of his body wash rushes into the room, sea salt and cedar. He stares at your backside covered by the silk blankets, a pang of guilt stabs him in the heart. You hear the door close softly, squeezing your eyes shut to pretend you're asleep as he gets in bed with you. His eyes linger on your face for a while.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, sitting up right in the bed, “I’ve seen you asleep thousands of times and I know your face doesn't look anything like that.” His words make you sigh, opening your tired eyes slowly, glaring at him. He feels bad, you can tell just by the way he's staring down at you. “Look, I'm sorry,” he finally says, “I know I should text you when I'm gonna be longer, and honestly I get a little tired of being out all the time.”

“I wish I could be here with you every moment of the day and night,” he continues, reaching under the blanket and grabbing one of your hands, “and I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean any of it.” He places a gentle kiss on your palm, his lips soft against your skin. You think for a moment, appreciating the fact that he's apologizing even if it's an hour later. “I'm sorry too,” you say softly, voice muffled, “I just wish I could spend more time with you.”

“I know,” he hums, “I do too.” You stare at each other for a minute in silence before Kenji suddenly pulls the blanket down lower on your body. A smile graces his face when he sees you wearing one of his shirts, he toys with the fabric momentarily before gently pushing you onto your back. Before you can say anything he crawls on top of you, pressing his lips onto your forehead before grabbing your waist and scooting you up further on your pillow a bit. Kenji was rather skilled with his hands, and his silence. He was practically fluent in touches, enough to make you forget the events of what happened earlier. His lips travel to your neck as his hands explore your somewhat exposed body, running them up through the shirt and then down to your bare thighs. His breath gentle against your supple neck, nipping and kissing at your wonderful skin. He pulls away, trailing kisses down to where the shirt starts and then he sits up, nestling himself between your legs and placing gentle, mellow kisses on your legs. It's not long before he reaches your thighs, giving them the same treatment he had the rest of your body. He places his hands on your thighs, holding your legs open and rubbing your skin with his thumbs.

His lithe fingers curl under your panties suddenly, moving them to the side. It catches you off guard, so naturally you flinch, looking down at him with glossed over eyes. “Relax,” he breathes, his breath fanning over your already soaked cunt, “I just wanna make it up to you.” You watch him open his mouth slowly, sticking his tongue out and pressing it against your clit. The feeling makes you twitch and you lay your head on the pillow with a quiet whimper. You feel him wrap his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking and licking softly. He was without a doubt, so excellently skilled at this, you would mark it as another language he was fluent in. Surrounded by your thighs, his fingers pressing into your skin and leaving red marks with his short nails, his mouth working at your core. Everything about this moment had you on edge. His tongue eventually slips into your cunt, keeping a reasonable pace as he watches you writhe simply because of his mouth.

He gasps into your cunt, pulling away briefly before burying his head between your legs again. His eyes closed, determined expression written all over his slicked face. At this point, hungrily, rolling your hips into his mouth, his nose bumping your clit ever so often. He reaches up, pressing a hand on your stomach. “Stop moving, love,” he breathes, pulling away from your weeping cunt, “let me take care of you.” Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling on his black locks when his mouth meets your cunt again.

“Kenji,” you breathe, your head moving side to side on the satin pillow. The familiar heat pools in your stomach, threatening to release in an intense orgasm, but the feeling is pulled away from you along with Kenji’s mouth. “I know, I know,” he says softly when you let out a noise of protest, “I’ll let you feel it in a minute.” You watch him tug his sweats off, along with his boxers. He grabs his cock with a large hand, angling so his flushed tip rubs against your dripping entrance. He leans down, his lips graze over your neck. You tilt your head up, sucking in a breath when you feel him slide into you. “Fuck,” he sighs, a grin appearing on his sculpted face, “it’s been so long.” His breathing is shaky as he slides deeper into you, filling you to the brim until his tip nuzzles just perfectly against your sweet spot. He stretches you out pleasantly, your plush walls already tightening around him. You see his adam's apple bob with a swallow, his eyes trained on your face, focused on your contorted expression of pleasure. A whimper slips off your tongue as he pulls out slowly before pressing back in. Your eyes close as he continues to thrust into you, mouth open in a silent moan.

With every slow, deep thrust of his hips, stars blur your vision, eyes watering as he fucks the tears out of you. “Ken–” you whine, breathless and quiet, each stroke practically taking your breath away. “I wanna hear you, baby,” he says, his voice hoarse but gentle. Another deep thrust, hitting your sweet spot perfectly makes you cry out, reaching up and digging your nails into his back. The feeling of your nails makes goosebumps rise on his skin, knowing that you're gonna leave marks for him to see in the morning. He smiles, completely drunk on the feeling of your warm cunt, a quiet chuckle, barely audible, heard from his filthy lips.

“Even when im gone,” he groans, fucking into you with a bit of a quicker pace now, but not too fast, “when im busy, you know I still think about you. You’re always on my mind.” The sound of his groans fills the room, mixed with your soft moans. “You feel so good,” he grunts, his hips connecting to yours before pulling back slowly, “seriously, all I think about is you and this perfect cunt that I’ve missed so much.”

His soft, wet lips graze yours, making you open your lidded eyes. “Kiss me,” he says, firmly, “please, hm?” His little hum makes you lose your mind, you love it when he does that. You cup his face, pulling him down just a bit until your lips finally connect. He moans into your mouth, slipping his tongue inside by force almost. Your back arches, thighs tighten as he continues to repeatedly hit that sweet spot in you.

The heat pools inside you again, your moans and ragged breathing picking up in volume, his thrusts still continuing at the same, even pace. “Kenji—ah—fuck, Kenji—!” You mewl, throwing your head back, parting from the heated kiss with him. “Gonna cum for me?” He says, dirty but still in that same gentle tone, “hm?”

“Y-Yes,” you gasp out, “ah, yes.” He smiles again, your whiny pleads sending shivers down his spine as the pleasure climbs up yours. Your plush walls tighten around him like a vice as your climax builds up in you. “Good girl, cum for me” he whispers, his lips trailing up the line of your jaw. It’s almost as if those simple words were the signal for you, because seconds later your peak crests and you cum all over his cock. You cry out for him, desperately arching your back and scratching lines into his with your nails. He continues to thrust into you, drawing out your orgasm as your tears fall just as they had before. At this point, you're too blinded by your orgasm and his cock to even tell if he’s cumming himself.

Your whole body shudders as you come to rest back on the bed, the silk sheets sticking to your sweaty skin. He sits up, staring at your fucked out state. Your chest rises slowly as you attempt to chase your breath, your eyes shut tightly, mouth open and brows furrowed. Both your arms sprawled out about your head, twitching as you came down from your release. He slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, still watching your face for any change. He gets up, leaving the room momentarily before returning with a towel, carefully and gently, he removes your panties and cleans you up before cleaning himself up. He gets you a new pair of panties before snuggling back into bed with you, pulling you into his arms tightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You squeeze your eyes shut, pulling him in even tighter.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

#ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato smut #⋆｡𖦹°‧ukume!#ken sato smut #ultraman rising

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lilacqiqis · 1 year ago

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"Darling"

naruto, kakashi, obito(non massacre), hinata, itachi(non massacre), sasuke, sai

Scenario: getting casually called darling by their crush

A/N: pls send in Naruto reqs I'm starving to write stuff, also finally decided to give characters specific emojis LMAO last post i made i randomly gave them emojis 😭 Writing this at 3 AM sorry if it's ass -mod Lilac

TW: none, GN!reader

more under the cut

🌱 Naruto isn't used to romantic affection from people, let alone his crush, so his reaction when you call him "darling" is a huge gaping mouth and stuttering as he tries to process what you said

🌱 "W-wait!! Whuh?! Huhhh?!! Whaddja call me?!"

🌱 Whether it's a joke or not he has a dorky smile after as he laughs, the pet name making him feel warm inside. He probably will try and call you a pet name back afterwards, hoping you'll like it just as much as he did.

🌱 Goes to brag to all his friends the next day. "Hey hey! Guess what?! S/O called me DARLING!!" Nobody really cares too much honestly, they think he's overreacting or even lying.

🌾 A stoic man he is, that Kakashi. Not much can get him flustered, besides reading Icha Icha of course.

🌾 He usually can keep his feelings hidden away from his crush, treating you like any of his other friends, but when you call him darling? Lucky that he's wearing a mask because you'd be able to see the huge blush forming on his face.

🌾 He'd try not to react too much, his eye slightly widening and body tensing up when the word hits him. It felt so... Natural? The pet name came off your tongue so nicely that Kakashi can't help but want to hear it more.

🌾 Wouldn't comment on it, but may bring it up in the future to tease you. Perhaps to get back at them he'll also call you a romantic pet name... Nah, he's too nervous to do that, if he was that bold he'd go and just confess already!

🌺 Like Naruto, Obito is flabbergasted. He's liked you for gods who knows how long and you can just casually call him that while he becomes a mess just hugging you?

🌺 His head whips towards you so quickly as he stares at you with wide eyes. How is he supposed to react to this?! Does this mean you like him...? Did you even mean this romantically in the first place? Do you call other people that too?!

🌺 His mind is running and he just kinda... Stares at you in awe. Don't let him down by telling him it was just a joke when he questions you later, he'll be devastated.

🌺 Obito will try and be confident, calling you an affectionate pet name as well but all that comes out is stuttering.

🌺 "Heheh... I think so too, s... S-sweet... Sw-sweethEART OKIMGOINGTOGONOWBYES/O"

🌻 Goes absolutely red. Hinata already gets embarrassed by little gestures so something like getting called darling is sure to make her pass out!

🌻 Did you really mean that? She hopes so! That small name made her day, and she won't ever forget about it<3

🌻 Of course, she's still too shy to admit her feelings to you. If that was your way of confessing you'd be dumb to not see that she obviously likes you too... You'd probably be dumb to not notice her behavior before, after all Hinata isn't very good at hiding her feelings towards you.

🌻 She wouldn't realize it's a confession of your attraction if that was your motive, so please be more blunt with her.

🌙 If you think he wouldn't remember, he will. Itachi is a romantic individual, though not as much before a relationship. He takes note of everything S/O says, and will try to hint towards his feelings through small actions and words.

🌙 Absolutely loves it. Itachi will think about the pet name, wondering if you'd mind if he called you that as well. Maybe you'd get embarrassed that you're getting a taste of your own medicine? It's not the humiliation part Itachi would enjoy, but he'd love to see your flustered face.

🌙 Doesn't make a huge fuss when you call him darling, probably doesn't even say anything about it, but has a small smile while thinking about it.

🌙 Will begin to also call you pet names!! It depends on how close you are, but if you two are good friends he'll return your affection. You two probably end up having a lot of romantic tension while everybody suffers watching wondering if one of you two will finally confess or not...

🪻 Sasuke loves hates it. Do NOT call him that cheesy warm and gooey shit, he will scoff at you then turn his head away. jk he just has an ego to protect

🪻 Hates how it makes him feel. That disgusting ticklish feeling he gets in his stomach and the heat in his face makes him feel weak and vulnerable, so stop that. This is just as bad as a genjutsu and he doesn't like it one bit!

🪻 In reality though, Sasuke adores being called darling. He's just... Really bad at dealing with affection you know? He doesn't know how to react and the feeling of love is so foreign to him, so his only way of reacting is acting like he hates it in hopes of ridding his feelings. (Spoiler alert:it doesn't help one bit.)

🪻 You can catch him with a soft blush and tiny smirk on his face if you can catch a glance before he turns his head. Quit being such a loser and just accept it, Sasuke!

🪶 This was mentioned in his book, so Sai should act accordingly, right? He'll begin to also call you pet names, and he probably already did before you due to the fact he read a book saying he should...

🪶 Doesn't quite understand the meaning behind the sweet names but he's trying his best

🪶 It makes him happy though, being able to connect with you... Someone he enjoys being around so much, someone who he feels he has a "special" bond with.

🪶It creeps into your twos friendship, and before you know it you two are acting like a married couple with all your affectionate behavior.

#mod.lilac.writes #naruto x reader #kakashi x reader #obito x reader #hinata x reader #hinata hyuga x reader #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #sasuke x reader #sai x reader #naruto headcanons

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cowboybeepboop · 5 months ago

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Hidden Passion

"I don't think I'm ever gonna forget this night, darlin'. You've been drivin' me crazy for way too damn long."

Pairing: Scott Miller x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5200

Summary: Kate invites you along to the group's camping trip and you’ve decided you finally have had enough of Scott’s indifference to you.

Warnings: p in v sex, semi public, unprotected sex, jealous Scott bc I like him jealous

A/n: I’m having fun with all the twisters smut 😭 hopefully you all enjoy. At some point I’m gonna write some more top gun maverick stuff. But as always, let me know if you have any ideas/requests for me 🤗

Boone is your twin brother, which means that you spend all of your time following him and his friends around. Because you’re the ‘responsible’ twin and mostly because his friends really know how to have fun.

Regardless, Boone has been extra careful bringing you around because he’s under the impression that you have a thing for Tyler. So of course when Kate invited you along to their camping trip you just knew you were going to get on his nerves by flirting with the cowboy.

Your brother was right about one thing: you do have a crush on one of his friends. Who just so happens to be the biggest asshole out of them all. Scott. So it's a win-win situation, you can piss Boone off and see if Scott even gives a shit. Even though you know Scott only came along because Javi is trying to get with Kate.

You’re sitting across from the fire with your knee touching Tyler’s, a small smile on your face as you notice your brothers stare. You could tell already that Boone was dreading having you there, but that was part of the reason you wanted to go in the first place. To piss him off.

Scott is sat off to the side with Javi and Kate, he’s drinking a beer with his usual scowl on his face. ”Hey, wanna make some s’mores?” Your cheerful voice rings out through the night air.

Scott’s scowl deepens as he hears your sweet tone, and seeing you talking to Tyler does nothing to improve his mood. He takes a long sip from his beer, trying to quell the growing irritation in his chest.

The rest of the group has mixed reactions but Tyler grabs a stick and puts a marshmallow at the end. “Do you want me to roast it for you darlin’?” You grin up at him.

“Yes, I’d like that.” You rest your head on his shoulder as you watch the flames.

As he watches Tyler roast a marshmallow for you, Scott's jaw tightens. He mutters under his breath, "Darlin'....what a load of bullshit." Your eyes flicker over to Scott and you give him a small smile.

Scott catches your smile and huffs in response, his expression remaining grumpy. He tries to ignore you, taking another sip from his beer, but he can't shake off the irritation that's bubbling up within him.

He glances back at you, noticing you're still talking to Tyler, the marshmallow still roasting in his hand. Scott's grip tightens around his beer bottle, trying to keep his anger in check.

You lean over Tylers lap reaching for the graham crackers and a chocolate bar. Tyler’s free hand goes to your lower back as you hover over him. “Wow there darlin’ be careful.” He chuckles as you find yourself on the log again, the cracker and chocolate prepared for the hot marshmallow.

Scott's eyes narrow as he sees Tyler's hand go to your lower back. His grip on the beer bottle tightens even more, his knuckles turning white. The sight of you leaning over Tyler's lap ignites a fire of jealousy within him.

Your brother's glare bores a hole into the back of your head, his arms crossing over chest. “He’s kind of scary when he’s mad like that,” you whisper to Tyler as he completes the s’more.

“Seems like your plan is back firing on you,” he replies with a smirk, handing the treat your way. You nod as you take a bite of the dessert, a smear of chocolate left on your bottom lip.

Tylers smirk grows wider as his eyes flick to your lip, his thumb moving to swipe the chocolate away. Scott's scowl deepens as he watches Tyler smirk and the way he swipes the chocolate away from your lip. He can feel the anger boiling within him, his grip on the beer bottle almost painful now.

Boone however wasn’t going to sit by and watch you two flirt all night, he gently grabs your arm pulling you away. “What are you doing?” Boone sits you down in between Scott and Javi.

“Stay there.” Your brother commands you like a dog, earning a grin from you.

“I’ve gotten banished,” you say to Javi, nudging his arm with your elbow, turning to Scott to smile at him. He's still fuming over the interaction with Tyler, but your presence next to him has a way of lessening his irritation, even if just a little bit.

Scott takes another gulp of his beer, trying to ignore the jealousy that's still gnawing at him. Javi laughs, "Banished, huh? Can't say I'm surprised." You giggle in response.

“Well in my defense I never thought Boone would get so bothered.” Javi shakes his head with a bright smile.

The night drags on, and the group slowly disperses into their tents, leaving just you, Scott, and the crackling fire in the center of the campsite. You’re both a few drinks deep at this point, and the alcohol has done little to quell Scott’s sour mood.

He glances at you sitting across from him as he takes another swig from his beer. The fire casts a warm glow on your face, and despite his best efforts, Scott can't help but find you somewhat attractive even in the dim lighting.

”Scott?” You murmur his name. Scott looks up as you speak his name, his eyes focusing on your face. He tries to keep his expression neutral, hiding the slight hitch in his breath at the sound of your voice.

"Yeah?" Scott replies, his tone gruff, as he raises an eyebrow in your direction. Scott watches you move closer to him, his eyes tracing the movement of your body. He tries to ignore the way his heart rate picks up at your proximity.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” You reach for his half empty bottle, he tightens his grip on the beer bottle as you reach for it.

"Why, tryin' to cut me off?" Scott asks, his voice a mixture of defensiveness and irritation.

”Maybe,” you huff, still trying to steal his bottle, “why won't you let go.” Scott stubbornly tightens his grip on the beer bottle as you reach for it again. He can feel the heat from your body sitting next to him, and his heart rate quickens at your proximity.

Scott grunts in frustration, "Damn it, just leave it alone," he snaps, his voice betraying his rising irritation. You flinch away crossing your arms under your chest.

“Okay, fine, whatever.” You grumble. Scott notices your reaction and internally scowls at himself for snapping at you. Seeing you pout and cross your arms ignites a strange mixture of frustration and guilt within him.

He takes a deep breath as he watches you sulk, trying to calm his irritation. "Look, I'm...," he starts, his voice gruff, "I didn't mean to snap at you like that." You steal the bottle away successfully.

“I know, that’s why I’m trying to cut you off.” You smile triumphantly, wrapping your fingers around the bottle. “You’re even more of a grump than usual.”

He bristles at your comment about him being a grump, but he can't deny the truth in your words. "I'm always a grump," he retorts, begrudgingly, "especially when I'm around you."

You finish off his drink, swiping at your lips as you give him the empty beer bottle. “What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Scott watches as you finish off the beer and swipe your lips with your fingertips. He can't help but notice the way your actions send a jolt of desire through him.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, "I mean that you always seem to rile me up, in one way or another." His statement confuses you.

“Scott, how do I rile you up?’” You’re offended by his words, “Are you saying I piss you off?” Scott rolls his eyes at your question, the alcohol making it harder to suppress his true feelings.

He lets out a scoff, "No, no, not piss me off," he grumbles. "You...you just...get under my skin," he admits begrudgingly. You scoot closer to him on the log, the alcohol you’ve consumed through the night giving you confidence.

“Under your skin how?” You narrow your eyes at him, Scott lets out a growl of frustration as you move closer to him on the log. He can feel the warmth of your body radiating towards him, and it's driving him crazy.

He looks at you as you narrow your eyes at him, and he's hit with the urge to pull you even closer, to run his hands over your body, to taste the alcohol on your lips.

He grits his teeth, trying to control his thoughts as he responds. "You just...always seem to do things that get a rise out of me," he admits through clenched teeth.

”You’re saying a whole lot of nothing Scottie.” Your voice is stern. Scott's irritation sparks at your firm tone of voice, but it's overpowered by the way his heart skips a beat hearing his nickname leave your lips.

He huffs in frustration, running a hand through his messy hair. "You just...you're always so damn cheerful and friendly, goddamnit," he mutters, the alcohol loosening his tongue.

”There’s nothing wrong with being friendly” Scott scowls at your words, his frustration growing as he tries, and fails, to articulate his feelings. He knows there's nothing wrong with being friendly, but your friendliness always seems to make his heart race.

"I know that..." he mutters irritably, his eyes scanning your face as he tries to find a way to explain his tumultuous feelings. You set your hand on his knee as you move even closer to him.

“Scott?” You sigh, still not understanding what he’s meaning, maybe it's the booze or his lack of proper communication.

Scott's heart leaps at the touch of your hand on his knee, a jolt of electricity coursing through him. He can feel the heat of your body next to his, and it takes everything in him to maintain his resolve.

At the sound of his name on your lips, he groans, "Goddamnit, stop sayin' my name like that."

“Like what, Scottie?” You tease, Scott's heart flutters at the sound of you saying his nickname again, his frustration mixing with a surge of desire.

He mutters under his breath, "There it is again," he replies gruffly, his tone a mix of irritation and something deeper. "You say my name like it's a damn melody, and it drives me crazy."

A playful smirk places itself on your lips as you lean forward pressing your palms onto his thighs, your face inches away from his. Scott's breath catches in his chest as you lean forward, your palms on his thighs sending a wave of heat through his body.

He can feel the warmth of your breath on his face, and it takes every ounce of his willpower not to close the distance between you and capture your lips with his. He swallows hard, trying to keep his composure. "What are you doing?" he manages to ask, his voice a hoarse whisper.

”I just wanted to get a closer look,” your smirk grows as you watch his expression. Scott's heart races at your proximity, his breath coming in short gasps. He can feel the heat of your gaze on his face, your smirk driving him crazy, and all he wants to do is pull you into his lap and taste those lips.

He grits his teeth, struggling to keep his cool. "And what exactly are you looking for?" he asks huskily, his eyes locked on yours.

“I think I see a little bit of a blush on your cheek.” Scott's heart skips a beat as you touch his cheek, your fingertips tracing the outline of his cheekbone. He swallows loudly, trying to maintain his composure as your touch sends shivers of desire coursing through him.

He can feel his face growing hotter beneath your touch, and he knows his blush is becoming more prominent. "Shut up," he grumbles, stubbornly trying to deny the effect you're having on him.

“Don’t be like that, it's cute” Scott's breath hitches in his chest as you pull your body against his, your thighs pressing against his knees. He can feel the heat of your touch searing through him, igniting a fire within him.

He scowls at your words, his face growing hotter with each passing moment. "Cute?" he mutters, refusing to admit how desperately he craves your touch. You sigh with the realization that you’re gonna have to make the first move.

“Scott.. Close your eyes for a second.” Scott's eyebrows furrow in confusion as you instruct him to close his eyes. He hesitates for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, but he complies, his eyelids slowly closing.

As he sits there, his eyes shut, he can feel his other senses heightened, attuned to every sound and every movement. "What now?" he asks, his voice a gruff whisper.

You cup his cheek, “Keep them closed, okay?” Your breath fans across his face as you lean in. He nods slightly in response, his eyes still firmly shut, his other senses hyper aware of your proximity.

He can feel the heat of your body against his, and his every instinct urges him to pull you even closer, but he remains still, waiting for your next move. You press a soft kiss to his lips, your other hand sliding up his thigh as you move closer.

Scott's heart nearly stops when your lips press against his, a jolt of desire coursing through him. He can feel your hand moving up his thigh, and the sensations sent his mind reeling.

He responds to your kiss, his hand coming up to gently cup the back of your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your jawline. You pull your lips away, your eyes scanning the expression on his face.

Scott's eyes slowly flutter open, his mind swirling with desire and need. He gazes at you, his eyes dark with emotion. He swallows hard, his chest heaving as he tries to regain his composure. "Why..." he starts, his voice low and gruff, "why'd you do that?"

”Why not?” You murmur, leaning in for another kiss. Scott's breath catches in his chest as you lean in for another kiss, his body responding vehemently to your touch.

He allows himself to be consumed by the kiss, his hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you onto his lap. It becomes more heated as you push your chest against his own, arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Scott groans loudly in response to your actions, the feeling of your body pressed against his and your fingers in his hair sending shivers down his spine.

His hands roam over your body, wanting to feel every inch of you. He deepens the kiss, his tongue expertly exploring your mouth, tasting the mixture of alcohol and sweetness.

You moan into his mouth at the roughness of his hands against your skin, “Scott, we should go to a tent…” you shiver at the cold air, “It’s getting cold,” Scott reluctantly breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged, his body aching with desire.

He nods in agreement, his mind clouded with lust, desperate to get you somewhere private. "Yeah..." he mutters, his hands still touching your body, almost reluctantly letting you slide off his lap. "Let's go."

You lead him to your tent, your hand comfortably holding his. You unzip the tent and slip inside, pulling off your boots as you sit on the air mattress that you forced your brother to set up.

Scott follows you into the tent, his heart pounding in his chest as the reality of the situation hits him. He watches you kick off your boots and sit down on the air mattress, his eyes scanning your figure in the dim light of the tent.

He closes the tent behind him, zipping it up, and sits down next to you, his body inches away from yours. You smile up at him, the flush of his cheeks darker than before. “You’re so cute Scott,” Scott's heart skips a beat at your words, his cheeks growing even hotter under your gaze.

He huffs in feigned irritation, trying to hide the effect you have on him. "Shut up," he mutters, trying to sound gruff and annoyed, but the hint of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

”Would you prefer being called handsome?” You tease, your hands reaching out to roam his body. Scott's breath catches in his chest as your hands move over his body, his heart racing in his chest.

He tries to maintain a cool exterior, but the way your touch ignites a fire within him is impossible to ignore. He scoffs, a mixture of annoyance and desire in his voice. "Handsome, cute, it's all the same damn thing," he mutters, trying to remain unaffected by your touch.

”But you love it, don’t you?” You mumble against his ear as you settle into his lap once again. Scott's breath hitches as you settle into his lap, your breath brushing against his ear. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, his body practically buzzing with desire.

He growls in response to your words, his hands tracing the curve of your hips. "Damnit," he mutters, his voice a gruff whisper, "You know I do." You respond by kissing him. More passionate than before, your eyes flutter shut as he slips his tongue in your mouth.

Scott groans lowly in response to your passionate kiss, his hands gripping your hips almost possessively. He matches the intensity of the kiss, his tongue tanging with yours in a heated dance.

He pulls you flush against his chest, wanting to eliminate the space between you, the feeling of your body against his nearly driving him mad with desire. You lean against him pushing his back against the bed, hovering over him as you pull away from his lips, asking for air.

Scott's breath hitches as you push him back against the bed, your body hovering over him, dominating his every sense. He gazes up at you, his eyes dark with desire, his chest heaving with each breath he draws.

He reaches up, his hands finding your hips once again, desperately holding on as if he's afraid you might disappear. "You're killing me, you know that right?" he mutters, his voice rough with need.

”Then why don’t you do something about it?” You tease, you voice low and sultry. Scott's eyes darken at your words, a low growl escaping his lips. He flips you over, pinning you beneath him, his body pressed firmly against yours.

He gazes down at you, his eyes locked on yours, his voice a gruff whisper. "Be careful what you wish for, darlin'" he mutters, his lips hovering millimeters from your own. You arch up against his body, pressing your lips to his hungrily.

Scott's breath hitches in his chest at the feel of your body arching against his, the need coursing through him becoming nearly unbearable.

He kisses you back with equal fervor, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. His hands roam over your body, desperate to memorize every contour of your curves. Your arms wrap around his torso pulling him closer to you, your fingers pressing against his back.

Scott groans loudly at the feeling of your arms around him, your fingers tracing patterns against his back, sending shivers down his spine. He presses his body against yours, his desire and need for you escalating with each passing moment.

His hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly, his lips moving down your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in their wake. You arch your back, gasping at the sensation of Scott's kisses along your collarbone, your body responding to his touch with eager anticipation.

His hands glide under your shirt, his rough fingertips tracing the sensitive skin of your lower back, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the tension in the air thicken, the electricity between you growing more intense with every passing second.

The sound of fabric rustling fills the tent as you both fumble with the buttons and zippers of your clothes, desperate to feel each other's skin against your own. Scott's eyes never leave yours, the raw desire in them leaving no room for doubt about what he wants, what you both want.

As the last barrier falls away, your bodies finally align in a dance of passion that's been building for what feels like an eternity, the cool night air forgotten against the heat of your union.

Scott's eyes darken even further as he takes in the sight of your exposed skin, his desire to taste and pleasure you becoming an all-consuming need. He shifts his position, sliding down your body, his hands firmly on your thighs as he spreads your legs wider.

You gasp as his mouth descends upon your pussy, his tongue eagerly flicking against your clit, teasing and exploring your folds with a hunger that's both thrilling and overwhelming. His movements are unbridled, driven by a passion that's been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long.

Each stroke, each lick, sends waves of pleasure crashing through your body, making you quiver and moan beneath him. You grip the blankets tightly, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as he devours you, the heat of his mouth a stark contrast to the coolness of the tent's interior.

His eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze only serving to heighten the intimacy of the moment. You can feel your orgasm building, your body tightening with every flick of his tongue, and you know that this night is going to change everything between you.

As Scott's mouth continues its relentless assault on your sensitive flesh, you can't help but let out a series of muffled cries, biting down on the fabric of your shirt bunched in your hand to stifle the sounds of your pleasure. Your body tenses, your legs quivering as the first waves of your orgasm begin to crash over you. You clench your eyes shut, trying to hold on to the last shreds of your self-control, but it's no use.

With a final, desperate whimper, your climax takes you, your back arching off the mattress as your hips buck against his face. He doesn't relent, though, his tongue still working its magic as you ride out the intense sensations that grip you, the fabric of your shirt now damp with your efforts to remain silent.

When the tremors finally subside, you collapse back onto the bed, your chest heaving with the force of your gasps for air. Scott kisses his way back up your body, a smug smile playing on his lips as he claims your mouth once more, tasting the sweetness of your release.

The sound of your muffled moans only spurs him on, his own need for you growing with every second that passes. He can feel his cock straining, demanding release, but he's in no rush. For now, he's content to bask in the aftermath of your pleasure, knowing that the night has only just begun.

Scott lays down on the air mattress, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulls you on top of him, a silent invitation for you to take the lead. The feel of his hardened cock pressing against your still-sensitive core sends a fresh wave of desire through you, making your own need for him even more urgent.

You straddle him, the warmth of his skin against yours sending shivers down your spine as you line yourself up with his length. With a look of pure determination in your eyes, you slowly lower yourself onto him, feeling every inch of him fill you up. A low moan escapes your lips as you adjust to the feeling of him inside you, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a mix of passion and challenge.

You begin to rock your hips, setting a slow and steady rhythm that has you both panting within moments. His hands grip your waist, guiding you as you move, his fingers digging into your skin with just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild.

Each movement sends a delicious friction through your body, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge again. Scott's eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive as you both succumb to the passion that's been brewing between you for so long.

Scott's quietude breaks as he becomes increasingly vocal with every sway of your hips, his breaths hitching in his throat as he watches you take control. His hands glide from your waist to your breasts, kneading them gently, his thumbs circling your hardened nipples in time with your movements.

His voice is low and gruff, a series of grunts and moans that seem to be ripped from the very depths of his soul, a primal response to the pleasure you're giving him. You lean into his touch, your own breaths coming in short gasps as you rock against him, the friction building into a crescendo of desire.

The sound of your bodies moving together fills the tent, the only music to accompany the symphony of your ragged breaths and moans. The feel of his strong hands on your body, the way he watches you with such raw hunger, it's all too much, and you know you're about to shatter once more.

You lean forward, pressing your palms into his chest, using it as leverage to drive yourself down harder onto him, the intensity of your movements growing with every stroke. His eyes never leave yours, the challenge in his gaze only making you want to push him further, to make him lose control in the way you're so close to doing. The world outside the tent fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the throes of passion and desire.

Your moans sync perfectly with Scott's, rising and falling in tandem as your bodies move together in a timeless rhythm. You feel your orgasm building again, a crescendo of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you. His eyes, still locked on yours, grow darker, his pupils dilating with the approaching storm of ecstasy.

You lean in, capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss as you quicken your pace, the need to feel him come apart in your arms driving you on. His hands tighten on your hips, urging you faster, his own hips bucking up to meet your movements.

The air in the tent grows thick with desire, the only sounds the slapping of your bodies and the muffled cries escaping from your mouths. And then, with one final, shuddering thrust, it hits you both. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body, making you tremble and clench around him.

Scott's grip on you tightens, his cock pulsing as he releases deep inside you , his own moan of pleasure melding with yours. The world outside the tent seems to fall away as you ride out the intense waves of your shared climax, your hearts beating as one, your bodies intertwined in a dance of pure, unfiltered passion.

When the storm finally subsides, you collapse against him, your breaths mingling as you both try to catch your breath, the tremors of pleasure still echoing through you. You can feel his heart racing beneath your cheek, a testament to the depth of his own release.

The silence that follows is filled with an understanding that transcends words, a bond forged in the heat of the moment that you know will never truly be broken.

You lay your head against his chest, breathing in his musk. Scott's breathing is ragged as he tries to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the intensity of the moment you just shared. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, his body still buzzing with the aftermath of his climax.

He rests his cheek against the top of your head, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against your back, his mind struggling to form coherent thoughts. "That..." he finally manages to mutter, his voice hoarse and gravelly, "that was something else."

You smile as you cuddle closer to him, basking in his body heat. “We should do that again some time.” You giggle softly. Scott lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Damn right we should," he mutters, his arms holding you closer against his body.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment before he speaks again. "I don't think I'm ever gonna forget this night, darlin'. You've been drivin' me crazy for way too damn long."

”Have I?” You tease as your eyes flutter shut. Scott lets out a huff at your teasing tone, his arms tightening around you.

"You know you have," he mutters gruffly, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck once again. "You and your damn adorable smile, and your beautiful eyes, and your infuriatingly cute laugh..."

He trails off, his voice growing huskier as he continues to list off your desirable qualities. A blush paints your face as you bask in his compliments. “I didn’t know that you thought so highly of me.” You press gentle kisses into his muscles.

Scott lets out a low hum of pleasure at the feel of your kisses against his muscles, his body already responding to your touch.

"How could I not?" he mutters, his voice gruff and sincere. "You're goddamn perfect, darlin'. Smart, beautiful, kind, funny...the list goes on and on." You bury your face into the crook of his neck, flustered by his words.

“Okay, okay. I think that’s enough now Scott…” your cheeks feel hot against his warm skin.

Scott lets out a low chuckle, feeling your flustered reaction against his neck.

"Awh, you're blushing," he teases, his hands roaming up and down your back. "And here I was just getting started..." He grins, enjoying seeing you flustered by his compliments.

But he acquiesces, not wanting to embarrass you further. He gently pulls your face back, so he can see your expression. You press a kiss against his lips, your eyes falling heavy as exhaustion comes over you in a wave.

Scott returns the kiss, his lips lingering against yours for a moment. He can feel your body growing heavy against his, your exhaustion evident.

He pulls you even closer, your head resting on his chest, his arms wrapping around you. "Let’s sleep, darlin'," he mutters softly, his voice gruff but caring. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

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