#once again have fun if you draw any of these i would be more than thrilled please tag me in that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atrwriting · 6 months

Text

kisses and other sweet things — billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

ok… i couldn’t help myself lol

also side note i don’t remember what scene this gif was from but i feel like his turned on look and look of disgust/confusion is the same — like if i hadn’t watched the show i’d be like “did he just see a pretty girl walk in?? or did someone just threaten him?? both??? hopefully both???”

but like also if he looked at me like that…,,,… melting. on the spot.

as always, warnings: smuuuuut, dom!billy, brat!reader, i don’t know if you can call it non-con but just to be safe im going to put that, p in v sex, oral, spitting in mouth (yeah i went there sue me), tears, biting, cums inside of reader (they didn’t have condoms in his time but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them!!!!)

also don’t sue me i don’t know if they had running water (sinks, baths, etc) but also the real billy the kid didn’t look this fine so we’re making it up as we go and going with the flow

ENOUGH TALK — here’s kisses and other sweet things…

you had been working with a crew for some time now, and as you all struggled to keep a cash flow — you had to turn to other things.

like joining forces with another crew.

the idea of joining a crew wasn’t what unsettled you — what unsettled you was being the only woman with a gun with even more men.

it’s just for one job, y’all, they had said. just this one.

one job turned into two. then that turned into three. four, five, six — and suddenly you knew everyone’s back story, drink of choice, and their type when it came to women of the night.

your first crew never asked how you felt, but you also never told them. they were all — including you — in it for the money. at the end of the day, it was all about what you had in your pockets. there was no time for quelling the simple worries, like they’d call the ones in your head.

at the end of the day — you had been doing this a long time. you had taken care of yourself up until this point, and you would continue to do so. didn’t matter who you were working with — you’d get it done.

after a day of success, everyone wanted to blow off steam. you all had found a boarding house for the night where the alcohol ran deep and there was two or three pretty women for each cattle rustler in your large group. you stayed behind a bit to drink with them, but once they started eyeing the women — you knew it was time to go.

sleeping with any of the men you worked with was also a bad idea. you couldn’t afford them seeing you as anything less than someone quick with a draw — and you worried a night of meaningless sex would ruin that.

you would never take the chance.

“have your fun, boys,” you chuckled. “you deserve it.”

“won’t stay a little longer, sweetheart?” your leader asked as a girl licked at his neck.

“another time — bath’s calling my name.”

a few pleasantries were thrown over shoulders, and you returned them. you made your quick escape up the stairway and into the shared washroom between three or four bedrooms. you knew your party had rented those rooms for the evening, so you were very excited to be able to have the bath to yourself for a little bit longer than usual.

you filled the tub with scalding hot water. the steam from the water and the whisky in your stomach made you hazy, but you welcomed it. who knew when you’d have until you had this sort of luxury or privacy again — you weren’t going to waste the chance.

the bath was quite large — fit for two or three people. you stayed on one edge as you washed your dirty skin. you were about to relax against the back when the doorknob began to turn.

you immediately snatched your gun and pointed it at the door.

“shit — sorry.”

it was the bonney kid.

he was holding a towel in his hand and was naked from the waist up. a scared look on his face was present as he tried to avert his eyes.

you put down the gun and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his next move.

“just came to wash up,” he spoke.

you knew he couldn’t see anything from where he stood, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to see below the water’s surface with the bubbles. you could tell him to fuck off — but being mean to some of these assholes sometimes proved to be worse than just swallowing your pride and being nice. you didn’t know billy very well — and you weren’t about to find out while you were naked if he was an asshole or not.

“i’m going to be a bit,” you spoke. “i don’t mind if you come in.”

he looked at you uneasily before nodded curtly, lips parting. you closed your eyes and leaned back against the tub, letting your eyes drift closed. you heard the water running and the sound of soap being scrubbed onto skin, and felt better. the next sound you heard was a razor being pulled out and your eye drifted open.

he was shaving.

he kept his gaze on himself in the mirror as he spoke. “surprised the kid can shave?”

you smiled. “never thought you were a kid from how you were with a gun.”

that made him smile. “never seen a women like you with a gun before.”

you hummed in response, not exactly sure how to respond.

“come up here to escape?”

that made you laugh. you couldn’t help but let your gaze fall on his reflection in the mirror. his eyes were trained on his skin as he let the blade slide down his neck and pull up loose hairs. your mind was hazy with drink and heat, which made you forget to respond.

“some people would say it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

you laughed at that — he had you there.

“and some people would say it’s rude to intrude on a woman’s bath,” you countered.

he smiled, but kept his eyes off you. you’d like to think it was out of respect. “…and would you?”

“not with you,” you offered. “you’re the only one who hasn’t tried to make a pass at me.”

“not hard to believe,” he spoke. “downstairs they’ve got a running bet to see who will be the first with you.”

you scoffed. “in their dreams.”

billy didn’t respond. he was almost done with shaving. he was washing more of his upper arms in the sink, and you suddenly felt bad. you were only taking this long because you thought everyone would be preoccupied with the downstairs activities, and because you couldn’t exactly exit with him standing there — able to see you.

“i can leave if you want to wash,” you spoke.

“water will be cold,” he responded. “‘s fine — i’ll wait the hour.”

you weren’t sure why — but that made you feel bad.

“you could join me.”

you weren’t sure what brought that on, and you knew you’d probably regret it later. however, billy’s eyes drifted up the length of the mirror to the edge where you knew he could see the tub, to your eyes. you weren’t sure how you looked — but you knew your curls were piled on top of your head and you looked sleepy. relaxed, even. peaceful.

“i don’t think you mean that, sweetheart.”

you hummed. “you don’t have to. just thought i’d offer.”

he appeared to sigh, and that’s when you thought he would leave — but he didn’t.

instead, he locked the door.

“should’ve done that in the first place,” he spoke before coming towards the tub to unlace his pants.

you turned your head away from him and let out a small giggle, shielding your gaze from his naked form. “how would we have gotten so well acquainted then, mr. bonney?”

you heard him find the other side of the tub where he sat back against. you let your eye line find in front of you and your jaw almost dropped at the sight. billy appeared to struggle to get comfortable as he sank into the warmth of the tub. the water line came up to right under his chest, showing off all of his perfect and trim muscles. with billy’s arms stretched out around the edge of the tub… you got the perfect view of the stretched muscles of his biceps.

“do i need to remind you about staring?” he asked.

you weren’t sure if he was joking — but he was right. if you wanted respect, you had to give it, too.

but you couldn’t deny just how handsome he was.

“sorry,” you said with a coy smile, and let your head fall back against the tub again.

you could hear water slightly splashing from the other side of the tub. billy had extended his legs so they were brushing yours slightly, and you shivered at the thought.

“can you…” he began. “can you get my back?”

you lifted your head and smiled. i can do all that and more if you asked, you thought.

“sure,” you said with a simple smile.

billy turned around and handed you the soap. there were a few cuts and bruises littered on his back, and you tried to be as careful with them as possible. you started on his neck, working the soap and the sponge against his muscles.

he hummed in response. you could’ve died at the thought of the big, bad billy the kid keening into your touch because you were massaging his muscles just right.

“that feels good,” he spoke. “talented fingers i suppose.”

you laughed lightly at that. you kept the sponge on his shoulders, and then worked down towards the expansion of his shoulder blades. it was scary to see such a broad man before you as you were so bare, but also the look of him was so enticing. you drew rough circles on his skin and worked your way down to the middle of his back.

“that’s good,” he replied. “thank you, darlin’.”

you went to hand the sponge back to him, but he turned around in place instead. the tops of your breasts were showing and you knew he could see the wildness in your eyes.

“how’d a sweet thing like you end up with us?” he asked, eyes searching yours for the answer.

“maybe i’m just the only one who knows how to handle you boys,” you spoke, trying to be coy. “actually… one of them i grew up with. we’ve always worked together, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone.”

“and what would he say if he knew if you were in here with me?” he asked.

you scrunched your eyebrows at him. “wouldn’t be his business. he’s also got a pretty blonde in his lap tonight. change of pace from his usual red head.”

“and he missed a chance to get to see you like this?” he asked, tucking a curl behind your ear.

“is his loss your gain, mr. bonney?” you asked, a smile drifting onto your face.

that was bold. you knew it. you could feel it.

“i think you’d have to ask the pretty miss before me,” he responded, inching his face closer. “she’d be mighty sweet if she let me kiss her.”

“she’s pretty pissed you haven’t already.”

he stared at you for a few minutes with his plump and pink lips parted in such a way where you knew thoughts were running behind his pretty eyes. he dipped his forehead towards yours as the intensity of the situation mixed with the hot steam around you and the liquor inside both of you. he dipped his chin once, and caught your waiting lips with ease.

his lips were dry and cracked against yours, but you loved it. billy was the type of man that was hard and worked even harder, and every bit of him reflected that. his dark curls were twirling around his hairline, mixing with sweat and soapy water. you wanted to brush them back, hop in his lap, and kiss him until there was more water on the floor than in the tub.

but you couldn’t — not yet.

billy’s lips folded between yours as if he was just happy to be here — with you. the feeling was intoxicating as there was nothing like sharing intimacy with a sweet man in the comfort of hot water. you couldn’t help yourself in that moment — you brought your hand up to cup the side of his face, and he sucked in a sharp breath in response.

“you can touch me, you know,” you whispered.

“the things i want to do to you, darlin’…” he spoke, shaking his head and trying to catch his breath at the same time. “shouldn’t be wasted in a tub. let me take you back to your room.”

you both left the bathtub and tried your best to dry off as quickly as possible. it was almost hard to believe you were giggling with billy like innocents as you raced back to your room — hoping not to run into any more cowboys.

you immediately pushed him to sit down on the edge of the bed before you climbed into his lap. his thighs were strong and thick — the perfect foundation for a thing like you to hold yourself up enough to grab his cock in your hands, and swallow his moans through another kiss.

“tried not to stare in the bathtub, billy… but can you blame me?” you asked, breathless.

“noticed you starin’,” he grunted, running his calloused hands all over your body. “couldn’t help but stare back. needed to see where the trigger on you was.”

you squealed in delight at his dirty mouth before he threw you off his lap and rolled you over. he immediately started kissing down your body.

“i want you inside me, billy,” you whined. “not that.”

he worked his way back up to you before he caught you in another chaste kiss. against your lips, he spoke, “i’m a gentleman, sweetheart, first and foremost.”

“and what if a dirty little thing like me didn’t want a gentleman?”

he caught your chin in between his pointer finger and thumb and extended your neck ever so slightly. he looked down his nose at your pretty, flushed face. you smiled up at him as he scanned your face. “then i’d tell you — if i’ve got you all to myself, i’m going to do anything i want with that pretty little pussy. planned on tastin’ you, sweetheart — you got a problem with that?”

a wide grin spread across your face as your cheeks became rosier. “can’t say i can argue with you, then, cowboy.”

he pressed a heavy kiss to your lips, your cheek, one on the base of your neck — and then bit down hard on the skin of your shoulder. immediately, your hands came up to lay across his biceps before he began to suck on the spot, sending shock waves throughout your body. he withdrew from you and was in between your thighs in an instant.

he spread your legs and held them down in place. his tongue was strong and thick as it explored the places between your folds. you hoisted yourself onto your elbows so you could get a better look at the angel before you.

you watched as his eyes close as his tongue drew sloppy, wet circles around your clit. your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you watched him bring a hand up to his mouth, lubricate his fingers, and prod at your entrance. billy let out a throaty groan as his two fingers slipped in with ease, exploring for that one special spot.

he watched as your pussy swallowed his fingers, hoping to trap them inside of you. you were almost vibrating at how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you and his drier thumb deliver the most delicious bouts of friction and pressure to your clit.

“yes —“ you gasped, gazing at his fingers.

his eyes immediately flicked up to yours. “still got a problem with this, doll?”

you folded your lips into each other as you shook your head slowly, holding his gaze. you were biting back the moan as he curled your fingers inside of you.

“no, that’s not how this works,” he stated. “if i’m making you feel that good, i should get to hear those pretty moans, don’t you think?”

a deep crease was forming in your brow with the perfect combination of friction, lubrication, pressure, and rhythm you had ever felt. you wanted to respond to him, of course, but how could you?

“i gotta work for it, that it?” he grunted. “oh, sweet thing…”

he shoved a third finger inside of you and you gasped. you couldn’t help it. you fisted the sheets on either side of you and threw your head back in the air. his thumb was working long, drawn out circles on your sensitive clit as your hips bucked up to meet his movements.

“that’s what you needed, baby?” he asked. “break so easily. i’d fit another, but this pussy is so sweet and tight — can’t fit.”

you were practically whining at his words. he would switch between his tongue and thumb every few seconds to show you the type of variety that had your toes curling. his groans against your pussy were the added vibration that kept your hips moving to meet his face.

“tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he grunted, his eyes closed. “can’t wait to stuff my cock in there.”

“don’t be mean to me, billy,” you gasped. “i want to feel your cock so bad, please…”

“no, baby,” he refused. “not until i make you feel good. you want my cock? yeah, well — you know what i want.”

you whined in frustration at his words — his words, the addition of what was making the heat and pressure build, and build, and build inside you until you were a sobbing mess on the bed.

“that’s it, sweetheart — give in,” he gasped. “i wanna know how good i’m making you feel.”

his voice was so husky it was taking over all of your senses. you hung onto every word as he led you closer and closer to what was your tipping point. he was stretching you so taut — like a string, ready to snap. when he suddenly pulled his hand away, you barely noticed it — until he replaced it with his cock.

you gasped at what came next.

first it was your legs — they immediately began to shake uncontrollably. the immense pressure started at your curled toes, your stretched feet, and worked its way up all the way to your shaking calves and thighs. the warmth coaxed your hips into a soft roll as you rode out your orgasm — blinded by the ecstasy of it all.

you immediately grabbed onto billy for dear life as all of your senses fucking swam. it was wave, after wave, after wave that hit you, arched your back towards the ceiling, and left you fucking breathless. your mouth fell open instantly, parted as whines and soft moans left and filled the open air of your bedroom.

and what did billy do? he grabbed you by the chin, still rutting his hips against yours, and spit in your fucking mouth.

“swallow,” he ordered, eyes boring down into yours.

you gasped as you understood his command, and like the good girl you were — you did as you were told.

“good girl,” he whispered from above you, stroking your chin.

you sucked in a sharp breath of air as you tried to regain your senses. you hoisted yourself back into your elbows, trying to focus — but it was just so hard. your pussy was so, so sensitive and it was like billy’s cock knew exactly out how to drag out your orgasm. you glanced up at billy, and realized your vision was blurry. shattered, fucked out beyond belief — you realized there were tears, literal tears in your eyes.

“no breaks for you, sweetheart,” he spoke, leaning over and holding your hips down. “need to make sure this pussy knows who she belongs to.”

your body refused to stop shaking — but it gave into every touch, caress, pull, and push from billy. you were his to use and you fucking relished in the feeling.

through your dark, thick, damp lashes, you glanced up at him. immediately, his bright, wild eyes connected with yours. there was no stopping the animal before you — not until he got his fix. the pure and pretty girl who always surprised the group with her skill was laying beneath him like a fucked out doll and he couldn’t get enough.

“please, billy,” you whined, biting down on your lip. “use my pussy just like that…”

“my fucking pussy,” he grunted.

“all yours, baby,” you gasped, laying victim to the curling warmth inside your womb once again. it was like an itch that needed to be scratched, and only billy could fix it. the idea of a second orgasm taunted you — teased you, until it was the only thing you could think about. you were close… so close… “billy, fuck — you’re going to make me — you’re gonna —“

“that’s it, baby, yeah —“ his thrusts were getting sloppier now as a light sheen of sweat lay across his forehead. the veins in his biceps and neck were protruding and his eyes were trained on your face. “bein’ so good f’me.”

“billy —“ you cried, tears coming to your eyes again. you reached for him, and brought him down to you. he held you by the back of the head and held your jaw in place with his thumb. through gritted teeth and wet eyes, you sobbed, “driving me fucking crazy.”

“yeah, yeah?” he taunted. “good. boutta make a mess of this fuckin’ pussy.”

with one last thrust, you curled into billy’s neck and cried. actually cried. he held you close to him as he continued to thrust inside of you — pressing fat, wet kisses to the side of your face. you were shaking in his hold, trying so desperately to hold onto reality — but it was slipping. it was slipping farther and farther away with every sweet word that billy ghosted over your ear.

“say you’re mine,” he ordered, with desperation in your voice. “say you’re mine, and i’ll cum.”

“i’m yours, billy,” you sobbed. “i’m yours. only yours.”

an animalistic groan left billy’s mouth as he tugged on your hair. he pulled your neck back and taut, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and biting down on your shoulder. his body pulsed one, two, three times as his orgasm overtook him and you. you were a weeping, crying mess and took everything that billy gave you.

he rut his cock into you a few more times as you both came down for your highs. billy was so commanding in bed — but after? nothing compared to how he was after. he pulled you into his lap, cock still inside you, and began peppering kisses all over your face. sweet nothings were whispered into your ear, but all you could do was whimper quietly in response. he laughed slightly in your ear, his breath ticking your sensitive skin, and dug his nose into your hairline.

“never getting rid of me now, sweet thing.”

- - -

would love to hear your thoughts :)

-L

#billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #billy the kid #william bonney smut #william h bonney x reader #william bonney #kid antrim #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you

3K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 21 days

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley asks you for your number, you can't believe he wants to spend his phone call on you. Even though you're nervous about asking, you realize you need answers to some of your questions. The promise of getting to hear your voice is enough to get Bradley through the week, but is he going to be enough for you?

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being sexy

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

When you woke up for work and checked your phone, there was a new email waiting for you from Bradley, and you couldn't decide what to do about it. As soon as you'd hit send on that selfie of you in bed, you felt like an idiot. Was he expecting something more than a random picture of you after you'd removed your makeup for the day? Was he going to eventually give up responding at all when he realized that one date with you was ultimately just a waste of his time on his stop back in San Diego?

But he had written back yet again, and you were nervous to see what he had on his mind. You dropped your phone into your purse, making a deal with yourself: you could read his response once you were at work. That would give you enough time to process your thoughts on the matter. You were being silly for wanting more and expecting more with every interaction. This man owed you nothing. You were probably in over your head with the mutual daydreaming and flirtation.

What were you going to do when it was easy for him to say that talking to you had been fun, but he needed to get back to his real life? What were you going to do when you weren't able to do the same?

Once you were settled at your desk looking at your Natural History notes in those last few minutes of solitude before your eighteen students arrived for the day, you let yourself indulge in Bradley's words.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

"Oh my god." You forced yourself to read it slower the second time around. He was thinking about you in his bed! He wanted your phone number! "What are you doing to me?" you groaned.

He wanted to call you. This man wanted to use his phone call allowance on you. He wanted to let you hear his deep, raspy voice over the phone while he spoke sentences that were tailor made for you. He expected you to be able to respond to him in real time? You were embarrassed to admit that it often took you hours or days to figure out how to reply to one of his emails after he set the butterflies off in your belly.

You did not know what you should do here, but you knew exactly what you were going to do. It was going to be impossible to pull yourself back out of this mess when the time came.

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

Before Bradley got a response to his email asking for your phone number, he got a box from your class. He could certainly get used to waiting in line when the mail arrived to find himself smiling with satisfaction instead of feeling disappointment. When he got back to his bunk and opened it, he rooted through all of the drawings of F/A-18s in search of the note from you. He smiled at the more businesslike greeting, knowing how many personal topics you and he had covered through email.

Dear Lt Bradshaw,

It seems as though we can't get enough of you. We're back, hoping for a little more of your time. Here's a batch of drawings for you to judge in any manner you see fit, but please be kind... I drew one of them.

Whether it's a handwritten note or an email, I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Just looking at your tidy penmanship had Bradley antsy to check his email again. He had put himself out there as far as he could at the moment when he asked you for your phone number, but now he was nervous as hell. What was he supposed to do if you told him no? He'd already planned out not only a first date but a second date as well. He could wait you out. Unless you outright shut him down, he would take his time, making sure you were comfortable.

Upon inspection of the Super Hornet drawings, it was easy enough to determine which one was yours. It was clearly crafted with a steadier hand than the others, and even the block printing on the side of the aircraft where you'd written 'BRADLEY ROOSTER BRADSHAW' looked like your penmanship. He looked through the other ones, quickly making the assumption that the one with flames and dragon scales had been drawn by Oliver. The one with purple outlining was most likely from Violet. Something was telling him the one with a dog piloting the jet was drawn by Jayden.

He smiled at how connected to these kids he felt, but ultimately he tossed everything back into the box and started heading for the lounge. If you had responded to him with your phone number, he could get himself on the call schedule. His heart was racing, and his skin felt too warm as he logged into his email account. He had three new messages.

"Come on," he groaned when he was met with two names above yours in his inbox. Nat and Vanessa. He almost forgot about the fucking water bottle.

He tapped on the email from his best friend first.

Rooster, I need you to make better choices regarding your girlfriends, okay? I took care of it, but it wasn't pretty. Her pink monstrosity of a water bottle was in your kitchen cabinet, and then she tried to have a conversation with me. Sorry, but I called her a flaming bitch who never appreciated my best friend and said she needed to leave your house before I made her. Everything is locked up tight again to keep the rats out. When you get home, there's a new restaurant you can treat me to on Rendova Road. -Nat

He smiled as he tapped on the email from Vanessa which was exactly one sentence long.

I got my water bottle from your house.

"God bless Natasha Trace," he muttered, deleting Vanessa's email. Then he went ahead and deleted every email he had ever received from her. He shouldn't have been surprised that you and he had already exchanged more emails than he ever had with a woman he'd dated for several months. It didn't take long before they were all gone, and then he was left with the newest one you'd sent to him last night sitting at the top of his inbox.

"Here we go," he whispered, wiping his palm nervously on his pants before opening up your message to see what you had to say in response to his bold request for your phone number.

Bradley,

I read your last email an embarrassing number of times, trying to be sure I understood it properly. You want to use your phone call allotment on ME? And you were thinking about ME snuggled up in your bed? There's no possible way you could sound like an idiot. Not with that voice that I think about when I'm trying to fall asleep at night.

You know what, I don't even care if I misinterpreted something. Of course I'll let you have my phone number. Of course I'll let you call me.

Your giddy pen pal

Right there below your parting words was your full phone number complete with San Diego area code. Bradley smiled as he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the shelves behind him and wrote it down. He double and triple checked that he had it correct, knowing his next mission would be to get approved for a specific time slot and hope it wasn't going to be at a horrible time of day for you in California. Then he wrote back to your email.

Gorgeous,

You shouldn't sound so surprised. This thing we've got going on isn't open to interpretation on my end. I told you I have a thing for you. I believed you when you said you were interested in getting to know me. There's nobody else I'd rather spend my twenty minute phone call on than you. In fact, you're the only one.

I already memorized your number. I'll email you back when I know which day I can call you and at what time. I can't wait to hear your voice saying my name.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

He logged out and did some quick math to take into account the difference between time zones, and then he was all smiles as he signed up for the opportunity to finally talk to you in real time.

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

You read his email again as the hours slowly ticked away on Saturday afternoon. Your friends were asking why you kept checking your phone while you were out to dinner. Well, they would be doing the same thing if Bradley Bradshaw was in their email inboxes sounding sweeter than any man had the right to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

How does 10:00 on Saturday night sound to you? I know it's a little late, but I didn't want to potentially interfere with your work week. And I don't know if I can wait until next week anyway. I'm feeling greedy right now when it comes to you. I can't wait to make a fool of myself on the phone.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

When you let him know in the calmest fashion you could muster that Saturday night was just fine for a phone call, he wrote back one additional sentence.

Talk to you then, Gorgeous Girl.

You received that email on Friday morning, and in an effort to seem less desperate for this man than you were, you didn't write back. It was better to let his anticipation grow to match your own. But once you'd parted ways with your friends and headed home for the night, your nerves settled in. You were going to have to ask Bradley where he lived, and that would be that. You'd know all the facts soon enough, and that would pretty much become the determining factor on how long the two of you could really keep this up.

It was almost time. You made sure your phone was fully charged, and you had your ringtone volume turned way up. Barring some sort of disaster, your phone should be ringing in exactly fifteen minutes.

"Chill out," you whispered as you walked a few laps around your apartment in your favorite underwear and an oversized sweatshirt. At 9:56 you paused in your bedroom doorway, convinced Bradley wasn't even going to call. And at 10:02, you sat on the edge of your bed with your phone in your hand, wondering how you managed to get yourself in this deep.

He was in the Navy. Things ran on precision. It was 10:04, and your phone was sitting there on your palm like a dead brick. "It's okay," you told yourself. "Maybe he'll still call." For a few minutes, you thought that being hopeful was the way to go. Perhaps he dialed the wrong number the first time and was just regrouping. Or perhaps not.

At 10:11, you set your phone on your nightstand and walked out into your living room without it. That was when you realized that the lighter-than-air tingling sensation you'd been enjoying all day was gone, replaced with something uncomfortable.

"Don't even think about crying," you whispered as you pulled the hem of your sweatshirt a little further down your legs. You'd normally be drinking a cup of tea and getting settled in to try to go to sleep. A few months ago, you might have even been scrolling through a dating app right now. But you didn't want to do either of those things when you'd essentially been promised something as exciting as Bradley Bradshaw's voice for twenty minutes straight. "Fuck."

Just as you dragged your toe along the kitchen tile, trying to decide what to do now, you heard your ringtone. The clock on your microwave told you it was 10:16 as you turned and ran for your bedroom. Your fingers were shaking as you snatched up your phone and read RESTRICTED CALLER on the screen. You weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it had to be him.

You took a deep breath and sank down onto the floor with your back against the side of your bed, and without any further hesitation, you answered the call as your heart hammered hard in your chest.

"Bradley?"

There was just a short pause, and it sounded like he was smiling when he said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

The lighter-than-air tingling sensation was back as soon as you heard him say two whole words, and you slid slowly down until you were laying on your back on the floor like a boneless mess. "Hi," you sighed, pressing your free hand to your belly to try to calm the butterflies.

You heard him clear his throat softly before he said, "I'm really sorry I'm late calling you. I've been waiting for this all damn weekend." There was an edge to his voice that gave you goosebumps on your legs, and you smiled before you immediately frowned.

"Does this mean we only have four minutes to talk instead of twenty?" you asked him.

"No, I made sure of that," he replied in his deep rasp. "I even got a little bitchy with the guy before me who wouldn't end his call on time. I told him the most gorgeous teacher from Mira Mesa Elementary was waiting for me to call and that I'd be lucky if she still wanted to talk to me now."

You couldn't help but laugh as the tingling sensation made its way to your fingers and toes. "You didn't tell him that!"

"I swear I did," he insisted, his voice on the verge of laughter. "He sends his apologies." He cleared his throat once more before he asked, "Any chance you could say my name again?"

You thought you detected some nervous energy in his voice which was somehow the most flattering thing you'd ever encountered. You closed your eyes and licked your lips, picturing his handsome face as you said, "Bradley."

Now his voice was as breathless as you knew yours was. "Yeah. I really like the way that sounds."

"Bradley," you repeated with a laugh as you rolled up into a little ball on your side with your phone held to your ear.

"Hey, if you want to just say my name for the next eighteen minutes, I'm not going to complain. I was dying to hear your voice, and now I just want more of it."

You had to press your lips together to keep from making an embarrassing sound, but you did manage to say, "Yeah, that's not really going to work for me, Lieutenant Bradshaw. I'm going to need some back and forth, especially with how much I like your voice. And your face."

He groaned softly, and now you really did make an embarrassing noise before you could clap your free hand over your mouth. "My face is nothing special, Gorgeous," he said. "Yours on the other hand... that's the kind of thing that could get a guy through a long deployment."

You whimpered, and you were sure he could hear it. But you weren't even as embarrassed as you were needy for more. You wanted to know everything about him, and twenty minutes wasn't going to be enough to satisfy you when it came to Bradley. "Let's just say you've had my full attention for months now. And the photos you sent are enough to get a girl through a long school year. Will you tell me how you got your scars?" you asked him. It was something you'd been curious about since the first photo he sent where you could see his face. The one of him standing tall and sexy in front of his jet.

"Oh, hell," he laughed, his voice taking on a self deprecating tone. "I knew I shouldn't have sent that sunset selfie. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be able to see them in the photos or the video. I have a lot."

You scrambled to your knees and then your feet. The last thing you'd meant to do was make him feel badly about himself. "They just make you look hotter," you blurted out. "I've thought about kissing them."

"Shit," he grunted. "Baby, I'll tell you anything you want to know. My social security number? My bank account information?" You laughed and had to bite down on your knuckle as he said, "I got my scars when I was a sophomore at the University of Virginia. Just typical nineteen year old guy bullshit. I was riding my bike back from a party late, and I skipped the curb. Just a lot of stitches."

"Oh," you gasped.

"It's okay," he said quickly. "More superficial than anything. I didn't even miss any of my classes. This is just why I don't usually send selfies like that. But you're already an exception, aren't you?"

He was so sweet, you were afraid the butterflies would never stop. But now you were picturing him going back to a beautiful house in Virginia, and it just made you sad. You paced the length of your room as you said, "I'd still really like to see your face in person."

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous."

You bit your lip, already knowing how you were going to react, but you just needed to have all the facts. "I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

There was a brief pause before he asked, "What do you mean?"

You tipped your head back and looked at your ceiling as you finally said, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

But when you heard his next sentence, you let yourself drop down onto your bed with a smile on your face. "Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."

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

This was going well. Bradley's whole body was thrumming with anticipation, and your voice was already embedded in his mind. As soon as you mentioned just the thought of your lips on his scarred cheek, he had to stand up for a minute. And when you brought up meeting him when his deployment ended, he was afraid his heart rate might never return to normal.

"I'd still really like to see your face in person," you told him, and all he could think about was Thai food on the beach and kissing your lips.

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous," he replied, satisfied in knowing for sure that it was going to happen now, but your follow up question left him confused.

"I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

After that? He sat back down in his seat and thought about what would happen after a date or two. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands and lips off you, but somehow he didn't think that's what you were talking about. "What do you mean?"

Your voice took on a softer, maybe sadder quality as you told him, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

He froze. He hadn't told you where he lived? Had he really never mentioned it once in all the times he wrote out the address to your school in Mira Mesa? His heart was beating erratically now as he pieced together the fact that he was making all of these plans while you were trying to protect yourself, but you kept emailing him and sending him letters anyway. You were showing that you had genuine interest in him while afraid he was going to leave you high and dry after one date? Hell no. Oh, he was falling hard.

"Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."

Your little surprised gasp had him holding his breath. "You do?" you whispered.

"I do," he promised. "Shit, I can't believe I never mentioned it. My house is in Coronado, near the beach in the photo you sent me where you look more flawless than the sunset. I'm so sorry I got so carried away with our emails that I never put it together that you didn't know I'm stationed out of North Island."

You were quiet for a beat, and he wanted to crawl through the phone and reassure you that he had never meant to stress you out. "You live in Coronado?" you asked.

"Yeah, Gorgeous. About thirty minutes away from your school. I mean, there's always traffic, so maybe forty minutes," he told you nervously. "I hope that's not too far for you to deal with?"

"That's nothing, Bradley," you said with a sigh. "That's... absolutely not too far. I thought you potentially lived thousands of miles away, and I was trying to figure out what to do about my feelings. I was so scared to ask you sooner."

Vanessa wouldn't even drive the extra ten minutes to the restaurant he liked, meanwhile you were putting yourself out there for him. He cleared his throat and said, "I already have our first date planned out."

"Tell me. In an abundance of detail."

Bradley's skin tingled with desire as he divulged his daydreams. "I'll drive up and pick you up at your place. You already gave me permission to hold your hand, so that's happening on the ride back to the beach. There's a good Thai place not too far from the bay bridge where we'll stop to pick up dinner. Then when we get to the beach, you'll be surprised and charmed that I packed blankets and a cooler full of beer and a bottle of prosecco. And we can sit on the beach, talking and eating while the sun sets, unless you'd rather sit in the back of my vintage Bronco. And then, when the sky is just starting to turn purple, I'm going to kiss you."

The beat of silence was satisfying before you asked, "You're going to wait until after dinner to do that?" He could practically hear your pout which made him get to his feet again. He only had five more minutes with you right now, and he was going to have to make this count.

"You want me to kiss you before that?" he asked, his fingers wrapping around the edge of the counter as your soft laughter met his ears.

"I want you to kiss me as soon as you see me."

"Fuck," he panted. "Then consider that a done deal too, Gorgeous."

"Oh, I like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, watching time slip through his fingers. "You feel more confident now that you know where I live?"

"Yes," you replied softly.

"Good." He closed his eyes as he said, "We only have a little more time right now, Baby. Anything else you want from me?"

You squeaked softly. "Will you email me a gym selfie or two? With a nice closeup of your face?"

He couldn't get over you and the way you made him feel. "Yeah. I'll hit the gym tomorrow for you."

You hummed softly, and he sat down in his chair again, raking his fingers through his hair. God, he felt like a mixed up mess over you after this conversation. Your voice was so fucking sweet as you asked him, "Anything you want from me?"

His plentiful thoughts ranged the full spectrum from innocent to decidedly not as he tugged on his hair and tried to keep himself in check. "Yeah, actually," he said, gravel filling his voice. "You know that inactive dating profile you mentioned before?"

"Yes."

"You should delete the app. There's nothing I know about you that I don't like, and I feel like that trend is going to continue. If you feel the same way, then you don't need the app, Gorgeous."

After a brief pause, your beautiful voice told him, "Okay, Bradley. I'll delete it."

"Fucking aces," he said with a smile. "Where are you right now?"

You laughed softly as he realized he had less than a minute left on this call. "Curled up in my bed with the biggest smile on my face."

"Send me a selfie?"

"Consider it done, Lieutenant. It'll be there when you check your email next."

He leaned back in his chair. There was still so much he wanted to tell you and ask about, but it would have to wait. "Listen, I need to go. But I'm going to work on writing back to your class this week. And I'll get the selfies for you, too. I'll see you in our inboxes?"

That soft laughter was right there again, and he felt like his skin was on fire as you said, "I'll take you any way I can get you, Bradley."

You could have him as many ways as you wanted him. "I can't wait to get back to San Diego."

"I'll be ready when you do."

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

I'm sweating. He's too much. He's too powerful. Bradley Bradshaw, get home and get your girl some Thai food! Also, Natasha is the friend of the year for taking out the trash. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

868 notes · View notes

capslocked · 7 months

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 4

[prompt: roleplay] male reader x kang hyewon 8k words

“I need you,” Hyewon says in the uneasy dark of a hotel room, with two urgent fistfuls of your shirt, “need you to do to me all the things my husband never will.” “Yeah, I know,” you tell her, “you said that,” and her eyebrows move in all the wrong directions, “I’m just wondering if, you know, maybe we should give him a little more credit.”

Here’s the truth:

Hyewon doesn’t believe in leaving evidence behind and you don't find it particularly productive to doubt her; you’ve been talking in code for years. Parts and pieces of yourselves reduced down and bottled into set phrases that, to anyone else, would be totally incomprehensible.

"i've been thinking," she texts you, which you've come to understand means she's already made up her mind, "maybe we should do that thing we were talking about. tonight."

(You're not always so fast on the uptake.)

You send two back two texts, both of which ask "which thing?" because the hallway from the breakroom to your desk has poor reception and it never lets you send just one.

Then, right after you cross the threshold between signal-drowning-concrete and the glitzy glass-walled arboretum they've built to make you feel like you're not a total cog in their corporate machine, your phone pings the receipt of Hyewon's reply: a picture - her laptop, propped up on your coffee table with its screen angled for perusal, of a booking site that's filtered to show results for their 'king bed & view' room at a midrange hotel a forty-five-minute ride from your apartment.

"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."

She replies to you - her text bubble appearing over another couple still images, of herself in the vanity mirror as she curls her hair around her finger and holds this little black slip of a dress over her shoulder, black lacy lingerie in tow, the whole nine - with:

"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."

Five o’clock rolls around but you never really do figure it out. You spend the last three hours at work deciding which kink of hers (oh, does she have a few) this is all in service to.

There's nothing overtly sexual about her pics in the first place - not more than usual anyway, more showing off her curves and cut jaw than showcasing anything for her 'adventurous' intent. So that can't be the tell - you'd seen her in a corset once (you can't unsee it) and the angle of her hips to the mirror makes you think that if she was planning on pulling on a pair of crotchless panties then she probably would've found her thigh high stockings, too.

You try and think of what the two of you had even talked about when discussing these little scenes - how many times you'd ended up 'in the mood' during or after such a meeting of the minds, how it'd snowballed from there, a whole list of filthy what-ifs that she'd probably put more thought into than you ever have - but you draw a total blank. It could be any of a number of things.

Until,

"i left you instructions on the kitchen island," reads a text on your phone which you definitely don’t check while you’re driving -

And then it hits you.

"ah."

"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.

A quarter past seven at the hotel bar is way too early for any real promiscuous activity, but then again, you're here playing at pretend and half the fun of games like this is in the setup.

Meet me at the bar, your instructions read, introduce yourself, and play it by ear.

There's some couples at the other end, some friends downing shots by the round, people musing over their aperitifs, and a woman sipping alone at the bar - Hyewon, appearing to you from the back first:

The pointed edges of her shoulders narrow out over this tiny cocktail dress that somehow covers less of her than if it weren't there at all, skin tight, accentuating even her softest curves. She has her hair fixed a particular way - teased enough to flip at the ends but still a single sweep down her shoulders, pulled together softly by a ribbon in the back, tied like a fantasy, allowing a wispy strand to fall to her face - glossy and dark and glowing to this rich, deep mahogany where it's cast in the lamplight.

The line of her throat, of her chest. Where her hips meet her waist in a rounding flare. The effort and beauty she's gone to, for you - that she puts in every day just because she knows it gets your attention, can do more than turn a head or two; Hyewon's appearance is almost indifferent of you, only coincidental, but she puts on a damn good act.

(You look a lot more worn in comparison: jacket thrown over dress shirt and khakis, tie loose at the neck. Standard office attire with just a step-outside-regulation. Disheveled.)

A drink, you suppose - approaching the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention to order a single malt.

But if Hyewon's been waiting long, she doesn't complain when you pull into the stool beside her and sit for a long moment.

"Do you mind if I join you?" you say over a pair of politely folded hands - and that's generally where her 'instructions' end.

The look she fixes you with is just this unashamed smoldering, her body language this contradictory kind of lazy - cool, like her night was going exactly the way she planned but she still had places to be.

"It depends," she replies, one slender finger curled around the stem of her martini glass - which historically, is a drink she hates. "Who's asking?"

"Just me," you offer, letting the gesture and your tone leave it up to her. And then slowly, perhaps awkwardly: "ostensibly a complete and utter stranger who knows a gorgeous woman when he sees one - and who could never pass up a chance to see how the rest of her is."

"Smooth."

"I guess it is, considering you didn't immediately run for the exit."

Hyewon nearly snorts.

"Hard not to." She tilts her head back at you, assessing. Her cheeks are rosy pink. "A handsome thing like you doesn't usually buy themself a girl's time with flattery -"

"Buy your time or your drinks?" you tease, and you can tell she wants to roll her eyes - but she keeps them carefully lowered. Eyelashes dipping down like blackened fans.

Hyewon shifts slightly, resting her chin onto the heel of her wrist like she's leaning against an imaginary windowpane and tipping her face a little sideways. It makes you smile. "One gets the other, if you catch my meaning."

Maybe it takes you a little too long to lift your gaze off her lips to find her eyes, or off the sweeping curve of the hemline sitting high across her long legs, but she watches you for just a breath. It's a more telling moment that she pretends she doesn't know you.

"You can look at me if you like," and then without further preamble, she introduces herself with a slight tilt of the head and an expectant expression: "call me Hyewon."

You figure that if you've gotta say one word to get the ball rolling you want to say her name, and as a little revenge for forcing you to think on this scene and think on what to say, what your character would say, how exactly she wanted you to go about 'meeting' her in a hotel bar, how her fucking scenario's been building up in her head for god-knows-how-long (even though, in the scheme of the two of you and your relationship, it’s nowhere close to being the most demanding sex you've had), you reply simply with:

"Pretty."

It's satisfying, how she hesitates - pausing a little longer on your face to gauge exactly what you meant. Studying. But the next beat of your heart - or hers - is effortless, easy.

"I know. That's what my husband calls me."

"Husband?" You keep yourself from raising an eyebrow. "And I don't suppose I'm also... married?"

"Different day, different you."

"Meaning I have a wife or a mistress of my own," and you flick your wrist at the barkeep for a top-up of what's in front of Hyewon. "You're telling me I'm the kind of man who'd only settle for two."

It doesn't sound quite right, though Hyewon picks up on it. Doesn't let on. "Aren't men like you always? Charming to a fault, but always voracious - insatiable, especially with women like me."

"Women like you."

"Married women. Unavailable," she simpers, and in a practiced little motion, draws her hand out to where you can see it properly, this sparkle on her fourth finger that catches the lowlight of the bar. The diamond looks real - not that you'd actually know - and your stomach flexes up mid-somersault thinking about the financial impropriety for what amounts to a gag. A practical joke. Hyewon the comedian.

Still, you go with it and take her hand in yours, admiring. "What a pity." The glint off its faceted surface - Hyewon's watchful as she allows it.

"Isn't it," she agrees.

The more unnerving thing - besides how composed Hyewon can make herself be - is how the narrative quickly becomes a whole hell of a lot clearer with the context of marriage in play. She's mentioned it before: the infidelity thing, the way it leads to the raunchiest, filthiest bits she'll dare to explore. In some ways, her desire for the untouchable makes a lot more sense -

And maybe that's what had been nagging at your mind since she brought up the idea of playing the part: you always end up kissing in that stupid 'caught up' sort of way. With an intensity that's hard to beat. Even though you wouldn't ever cheat on her. Not in a million years. You'd watch her leave before doing anything like that.

But it's thrilling, almost, and even more thrilling that this isn't entirely improvisation: how well the two of you might actually play this off, as two total strangers to this illusory little roleplay that you'd normally say was your very last interest.

"But you know there's something I've come to appreciate about married men," Hyewon continues, her voice in this conspiratorial sort of hushed.

You blink, drawing her out.

"They know how to tie a knot."

There's the flirty wink, an upward flick of the chin that draws your eye to the span of her chest. To her body in that skin-hugging dress and your fingers entangled in hers - the gentle bump and shift of the bodies behind her, moving between the tables - Hyewon a queen of circumstance, playing to the moment as it bends; as her lips part in a pleased smile, red and smooth, almost innocent, and you can't help but imagine tasting her on your tongue, the force that'd take for her to yield when you finally got your hands in her hair.

(What a character, honestly.)

"Tell me something," you say, "why would a married woman, this pretty little thing like you, be all alone in a place like this - without her charming husband."

Hyewon's smile curls at the edges like smoke. "I never said he was charming."

You raise an eyebrow. "Good-looking, then."

"Never said as much either."

“Why are you with someone you find neither attractive nor charming?”

Hyewon makes a face, slightly pitied. “If that Isn’t what I’m asking myself everyday.”

"Hm." You narrow your eyes into something more quizzical than suggestive. It works on her anyway. "That doesn't feel too much like it's in character, Hyewon."

She shrugs, but it's that coy kind of shrug. She thinks you'll let her off easy - you usually do. All considered, she's the type who thrives off the chase and, as of today, so do you.

"But he is cute." Her expression is just this side of sweet, as she takes a dainty sip of her drink. Like the taste doesn’t bother her, like she isn't pretending she doesn't hate it with every fiber of her being. Like this is easy. "And maybe -" she quirks an eyebrow at you, withholding a smirk. "-you're right. Maybe, I was looking for someone cuter to fill the bill. And luck would have it, here he is."

So - apparently - her character doesn’t mind a little light infidelity.

Hyewon takes in the vague sense that the message wasn’t as clear as she might have liked, her forehead scrunching as she tries to convey - in a way that would communicate even to an airhead - some realization to play your part.

"Maybe it's the wrong question,” you start over, taking it from somewhere near the top, “what are you doing here, with me?"

That's when Hyewon graces you with one of the soft, slow kind of smiles: the kind that manages both an air of 'you dimwit' and 'good question'. Her fingertips barely graze yours but it's noticeably electric. Just enough to feel your pulse fluttering.

(You don't care that none of it’s real - Hyewon looks to you through thick eyelashes like a goddess of temptation and sin - and it makes something wicked coil up warm at the pit of your gut. A curious thrill and a recklessness that you have to admit feels a little nice - being the man trying to talk this woman into bed. The challenge and the buildup, the want to work for it. It's new. It's fresh. Lo-and-behold, it's kinda hot.)

When you catch her stare, she fidgets. So slightly, so briefly, your chest is on fire and you're barely into the pages of her plans, of this night ahead.

"Wish fulfillment, let's say," and that is no less true. "See it’s my husband."

"Mhmm."

"He respects me too much to do the things I'm going to ask you to do."

"Like?" you continue to prod.

Hyewon lets out the tiniest shiver of a sigh, like a trickle of cold water down the length of her spine. "Take a good guess."

You finish the rest of Hyewon's martini, slow. Savoring the warmth and bitterness sliding down the back of your throat. The night's young, sure - and if you're supposed to be spending it all wrapped around Hyewon's finger. This means you can take your time.

"Show me your room?" you propose, gesturing to the empty glass.

"I thought you'd never ask."

At your offering, she stands up and throws on her coat - long, double-breasted, chic - but only really just off her shoulders to have the hem hit her legs mid-thigh. One of her many personal quirks. Hyewon knows how to move like there aren't two eyes staring at her wherever she goes: not the awkward side-to-side of a girl who wasn't made to wear heels - a loping gait - nor the assured click, click of the taller kind that totter like it's all they've got going for them.

Something totally different: a little careless and a little haughty and an assurance of the highest confidence.

She winds an arm round yours like they do in movies, this parody of a leading lady - Hyewon not a seductress as much as she is someone who'll look the part just to convince you otherwise. There is a pretty big discrepancy, you find, between her bravado and her smile, her figure and her artistry - you couldn't act if you wanted to; meanwhile, she does whatever she damn well pleases. And somehow that doesn't even begin to cover the things that turn her on.

The two of you make for the stairs, winding up floor after floor until it's perfectly quiet, perfectly out of sight - hidden away from prying eyes and ears.

The silence of an empty hotel stairwell is thick - Hyewon's hand comes off the railing, as she takes to the wall and turns to face you. It's a gentle tug at the tie loose around your neck, barely any give before you're already there, holding her by the hips.

"Might've gotten us lost there," you whisper, as her finger plays at your chest and finds its way round the collar of your shirt. Your top button is already undone by the time you notice she's not fond of it. "The elevators would've gotten us where we're headed faster."

"Don't worry." She hums, leaning in close - like a magnet, like gravity. "You're getting the scenic route."

"Anything to stall the inevitable," you tease, but it isn't a thread she seems interested in developing.

"Something like that."

Hyewon shifts her weight back onto her right foot, her skirt riding up just barely. The dip between her inner thighs and the smooth curve of her leg is open and bare to your sight, her dark stockings like an unspoken challenge: the panties, lacy, loose, no crotch.

And it gets... indecent, the way your lips connect, how you realize half-way into that kiss, she's still smiling. It isn't any one way that does it; maybe it's the clever use of her tongue, or that particular position you've coaxed her up against the stairwell wall that makes it seem like Hyewon can't be any more in danger - it's too much to handle and your mouth goes slack on the reflex of an apology; her hand has a hold on you by the jaw and it won't budge.

"My husband," she murmurs into you, the trace of the words ghosting into the breath between the both of you. "Never lets me."

"What," you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice, your hand heavy on her side - the very real fear that you might tip over a banister because Hyewon's got her heel half-way into the back of your calf and any less bracing would bring you down. Your thoughts are a fog, with her cheek in one hand and your knee already up between her thighs.

"His wife," she almost swallows down, kisses turning chaste because maybe it's just easier to gently peck out her intentions, how she looks to you with dark eyes, heavy-lidded and wanting, a thumb trailing down the plane of your cheek. It'd feel like pity if you weren't thinking exactly the same.

You try to finish it for her:

"She likes it rough."

"No." Her nose traces yours before she connects you again - gentle and slow, and a shudder rolls all down the expanse of her shoulders; you think you have it about right. Until she makes the slightest adjustment and her grip in your hair turns agonizing, perfect and burning on the edge of too tight - too much. You are straining against the wall of a hotel hallway and she's saying, "not rough."

She kisses you. Hard. Until you gasp for the stolen air in her lungs.

"Filthy," she manages against the heat and sting at the side of her cheek.

(Damn.)

Your voice has gone and lodged itself firmly somewhere between her lungs - but there's something that says she knows. That you've got it in you, the brimming potential that might just say everything you ever wanted but couldn't figure the right way to put it.

It's the tone of her voice or the spark in her eyes, but one moment into the next - you're caught in this pull - like gravity's increasing tenfold at her will; her heartbeat's so strong you swear you feel it against your ribs as she's demanding:

"Messy. Dirty. A little uninhibited," and the obvious thrill of that must flare up like lightning under her skin - the way it makes her moan, soft and breathless: "fuck me like my husband doesn't."

She’s not even waiting for the comfort of the room yet, which in hindsight is probably checking more of Hyewon's many boxes - it's the sex in public thing, the fear of discovery thing, the desire to have you ravish her out where anyone can come upon you sort of thing - the thought of which has your jaw go a little slack too. Her leg up is coiled up around your hip, your fingers tangled in her hair and sliding up the length of her thigh, until you're fucking kneading up her ass and drawing out that desperate whine in her.

"Fuck," she exhales into your shoulder - a hand on the metal bannister to brace against those little circles you start to rub inside her, pushing - slowly - one, two, three knuckles deep, testing - before drawing back, and plunging forward again. This ache, slow and purposeful, pressing just enough into her until there's a wet sort of friction that has your hand slick all down your wrist.

It never takes long, with your fingers on her clit, fingers inside her, a palm covering the moans out of her mouth -

She cums just like that.

Whining and broken and bent under you, and with an elbow hard against her ribcage to make the breaths come shallow.

"Stay quiet for me, sweetheart," you find yourself murmuring, as your teeth graze the shell of her ear - the short burst of hair and silky strands across the back of her neck; you're undoing the neat ribbon tied round the length of her hair and letting her waves settle on her shoulder in time for you to swallow down the sound of her sighs, the tension in her lips, and the frantic jolt when your fingers push through the wet, heat of her pussy again, merciless and quick. You have to be careful; she nearly bites your fucking tongue out.

"Can't." Her jaw's tight on it, the slight staccato to her breathing, murmuring and slightly dazed: "if we get caught, someone will see. Someone will notice."

Her next exhale is more shaky. "Anyone could see us like this," with just her toes curling and her stomach tensing on every second beat. Your grip leaves a bruise. "Please-"

"We're not supposed to be doing this at all, are we? If you've got a husband waiting somewhere?"

You hear yourself, and it sounds sorta degenerate, though in all the right ways, you figure, like something straight out of one of Hyewon's romance novels, the dirty, smutty ones that she swears up and down she simply reads for the plot, but the dazed, hazy kind of mood they get her worked up into suggest otherwise.

You trace the rough pad of your thumb over her pussy, this delicate, ghost of a touch. One you'd have to strain to even tell if it was there or not until she whines - eyes screwed shut like she doesn't mean to, just does. The sound of it bouncing around the stairwell.

And then, all this wet: her skirt's ridden all the way up to her stomach, damp and near-transparent with slick, and you can just imagine the puffy pink between her legs - between her stockings in the afterglow of an orgasm, spent and sensitive and sore and wanting for more. Your eyes linger a little too long -

"I shouldn't let you," she manages, half a moan on it - one of her heels comes up the stair you're standing on and the way Hyewon clings onto you for balance says enough, but still, she demands, with all the strength her throat allows: "make it fast. You're lucky I let you see me like this at all -"

And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.

(She'll play coy for a while longer. Which, Hyewon being Hyewon, will look like as much an effort as her sprawl out on the bed for you is.)

"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."

"Four more floors."

Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.

"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"

This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.

See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.

It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.

Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.

You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.

"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.

And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -

"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."

“I don’t know that I am.”

Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.

"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."

You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.

But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:

"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"

"Say it again."

"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.

"Pushy."

"Gentle's got no appeal for us."

"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -

You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.

The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:

"Like that. Harder."

"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.

Her throat flinches: this shudder.

She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.

"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."

"Or talk?"

And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -

Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.

"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"

In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."

There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.

So you pull.

And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.

You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.

A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.

"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"

Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."

"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"

"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."

"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"

"My husband loves me."

"Then it seems-"

"He makes me cum with his hands alone."

Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.

"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."

"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"

A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight.

You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.

You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.

"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."

There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.

(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)

With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.

Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.

You curse under your breath.

Hyewon fucking collapses.

It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.

"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"

Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.

It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"

You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.

Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.

"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"

She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.

"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"

And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:

"More-"

"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.

Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.

"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.

The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.

Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.

"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"

She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.

It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.

Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"

The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.

"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"

"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."

Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.

And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"

You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.

(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)

You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.

She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.

This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.

"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.

Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.

"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.

"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.

A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."

#hyewon smut #izone smut #izone hyewon smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

1K notes · View notes

chuluoyi · 8 months

Note

Could you do a brother’s best friend!Megumi x reader?

like her brother being overprotective, but being oblivious of his best friend’s crush on her sister?

(not the) best kept secret

- fushiguro megumi x reader

cool, brooding and handsome. your crush on your brother's best friend is a secret you only keep to yourself. little do you know, he too feels the same. and so, your love story—and the trials and tribulations that come with it—begins.

genre/warnings: college au, reader being yuji's little sister and him and your family being protective, fluff, mutual pining, tiny weeny angst if you squint? with happy ending ofc!

notes: awww anon, this ask is so cute and so hidden love-coded! did you watch hidden love too? because this piece draws inspiration from that ehe. and uh it turned out longer than i expected and i haven't proofread it but pls enjoy!

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

You have had a crush on your brother’s best friend, Megumi, for a while now.

Actually, scratch that. For a long time now, since you were in middle school, in fact.

In your eyes, he was really cool. He was reserved and not very talkative, which was a stark contrast to your brother Yuji, who could talk a mile a minute every day. It always baffled you why the two could be bosom friends.

And he treated you well. Megumi may have bonked Yuji’s head at any given chance, but with you, he was different. He was gentler, kinder, and overall just considerate. Sometimes he would even pick you up in your brother’s place, and your heart would beat out of your chest from sheer giddiness.

Little did you know, he too didn’t quite see you as a mere sister of his friend.

It started with head pats. You heart would flutter and he would be more conscious of his actions. Yuji had furrowed an righteous eyebrow at the sight.

“Oi, Fushiguro, that’s some favoritism there!” he whined. “I helped you with homework and what did I get—”

“Shut up, Itadori.”

And then the text messages. You didn’t know how or why you ended up texting him on daily basis. He was the one who texted you first a few months ago, having obtained your number from a mutual friend in your circle to ask about the best gift for Yuji’s birthday. And somehow up until now, you found yourselves telling him how your day went, and he the same.

you: i've just finished my class today. so tired megumi: oh? mine is still in session. quite boring you: i see. well, ganbatte!

Those little interactions made your day, and for now, you were quite satisfied with them. But when your phone buzzed once again, signaling a new text, you couldn't resist the urge to swiftly open the messaging app to expect the expected.

megumi: wanna grab lunch later?

It was so incredibly childish, but you felt like winning.

Lunch invitations were often. You spent the whole duration of lunch with him almost every day at this point. The two of you talked about many mundane things, and he would have this small smile whenever you griped about your hard tests or annoying classmates.

Head pats. Texts. Lunches.

And then there was Nobara.

Now, don't get me wrong. You adored her—she was a fun person, pretty and you even looked up to her as your role model at some point. If Yuji somehow ended up with her, you were sure to give them 200% of your blessings.

But seeing her with Megumi was another story. Sometimes you envied your brother's close knit group of three. They had been friends since middle school, and it was granted that Nobara would spend a whole load of time with both your brother and Megumi. With Yuji, she was harsher and didn't take him seriously, but you couldn't deny what your peers had been whispering and what you yourself found very plausible—she and Megumi would make a fine match.

It wasn't your intention at all, but ever since you saw him and Nobara at the toy shop together, pulling for popular merchandises in gacha box, you started losing confidence in yourself and inadvertently put this distance between you and him.

At first it was subtle, Megumi didn't even realize it. But when your replies were few and far in between, he decided it was time to address the problem.

"You don't answer my texts," he stated one day, barely catching you at campus during the lunchtime. Now that he thought about it, you kept denying his lunch invitations too. "Are you avoiding me?"

"I, um," you stuttered. You didn't anticipate running into him, to be honest, and so you were at loss of words. "It isn't like that..."

Megumi figured that he had done something to make you feel like you should avoid him, but he didn't want the two of you to be in this awkward situation any longer, so he led you away from the crowd to your usual place of hanging out after lunch—the rooftop.

"Have I done something?" he asked warily. "It's okay, you can tell me."

"No, Megumi, I—"

"I don't want us to be like—this," Megumi said, his face contorting with a deep frown. "I don't like it at all."

Typically, he regarded friendships as a pain, but not with you. Not with the girl he had been pining over for who knows how long now.

Yuji's sister. He had to remind himself of that fact so many times and yet his heart didn't seem to get it. You were his best friend's dearest sister, and yet he fell for you regardless. If Yuji knew, he would definitely had some opinions on this.

And so for the last few months, he kept it hidden under his sleeves. He approached you, befriended you, took you out on lunch dates—acting on his growing feelings for you and yet he didn't have the courage to confess still.

But enough was enough. If not confessing meant losing you altogether, then he was willing to take the risk. At the very least, if you did reject him, he would have gone down with a fight.

"Y/N, I don't know if you're already aware of this or not, but..." he gulped. Apparently this wasn't as easy as he thought, especially when you met his gaze with your cutely confused ones.

"I have feelings for you. I... like you, quite much."

His voice was clear, without any hint of doubt. You were taken aback and widened your eyes out of surprise.

"You do...?" you shyly asked him back, finding it hard to believe. Fushiguro Megumi, the boy you've been crushing on since you were 15, when you were only able to hide behind Yuji and saw him from afar. The boy who once was indifferent to you, was now confessing his feelings for you? He liked you back in the same way you liked him?

"I do," he replied with clarity, and then a smile. That small smile that always made your insides do somersaults. "I want to ask you out for a while now, but since well... you know... out of consideration for your brother, I felt like I couldn't simply whisk you away."

To his surprise, you laughed, and Megumi found himself breathless. The way you laugh was so mesmerizing in his eyes, reminding him why he could fall in love with you in the first place.

"I like you too, Megumi."

And that was all he needed. Apparently that confirmation was enough to forget that you were the sister of his long-time friend, and that it was fine even if you were. After all, since when was it a crime to romance your best friend's sister?

Still, you two decided to keep it under the wraps first. Springing this on Yuji would startle him, you reasoned, and he agreed. It was more convenient this way anyways.

Your relationship with Megumi was a happy one. He was curt, but never failed to look out for you. He remembered things you liked, and would take you out on places you wanted to go. Arguments were there—granted, sometimes he was just too stubborn, so you may have a clash of opinions—but in the end, the two of you always managed to work it out.

But there was always something melancholic in Megumi that you weren't sure you could touch at all. Perhaps it was due to his upbringing—his incomplete family. You tried to fill that gap, giving him many fun and happy memories, hoping it would replace his sad ones. He was grateful for that.

Nonetheless, the reality persisted that your brother, Yuji, remained completely oblivious to all of this. Yuji still thought that you were his innocent younger sister, and Megumi was his best bro. Sometimes you felt bad to do all this behind his back, and yet you made no move to rectify it.

“Hey, let’s ask Fushiguro to join too!” Yuji would say, and you would agree. And then, in front of him, you and Megumi would refrain from being too friendly, and he would be none the wiser.

All things have karma. You have built your karma too, for deceiving your kind and sweet brother.

"Fushiguro! How could you?!"

When Yuji's fist collided with his jaw, honestly Megumi had given up on fighting back, because one, there was no chance of winning against him, and two, your scream pierced the air, filled with worry for him.

You two just had to be found out in the worst way possible—while making out. It was wrong in so many levels in the first place. Why and how did you even initiate making out in your house that you shared with your brother?

"It could've been anyone," Yuji fumed with anger, his teeth clenching. "Anyone at all! And yet it has to be Y/N—my own sister! Fushiguro, have you ever considered the magnitude of betrayal this is to me?"

"Yuji! Please stop!" you tried to intervene. "He's not at wrong—it was me who—"

"No, you don't get any say in this!" for the first time, you saw your kind brother got angry and it made you quiver in fear. Yuji had never been angry, not to you. "You too, Y/N. How could do this behind my back? The least you could do is telling me!"

"I'm an adult!" you stressed, now irritated at this display of protectiveness from him. "I can date whoever I want and you can't just punch the man who happens to be my boyfriend!"

Honestly, if asked, Yuji wasn’t like 100% against your relationship with Megumi. He and Megumi practically grew up together, he knew the best and worst parts of him, and overall he still considered him decent.

But what made it hurt was that the two of you decided to leave him out. It made him doubt everything he knew about his best friend. How could he trust his sister to someone he found hard to trust?

He turned to Megumi, who was still slumped on the floors of his garage. “No. If he really likes you that much, then he will willingly accept this.”

Megumi understood, if his own sister was dating… let’s say, someone like Gojo, whom he trusted but not at the same time, he too would definitely beat the crap out of him.

And so he willingly endured all the blows. Yuji had to let off steam, and this pain was worth everything if it meant he would give his blessing for you.

Yuji was taken aback that his friend actually let him do this. When Megumi got thrown one last time and almost passed out, Yuji finally decided that it was the end.

His best friend and his sister… it was almost laughable if he didn’t feel like the biggest fool between the two of you.

He saw how you immediately sauntered towards him with tears in your eyes, muttering several apologies. Yuji wanted to snort, but then Megumi took a hold of your hand that was on his bruised cheek, and smiled, saying that it was okay.

And despite himself, his heart felt warm. Seeing the usual gruff and cold Megumi be this… soft with you seemed to open his eyes to something more.

Looking back, he could’ve had realized it when Megumi started to get touchy with you. He completely missed that the head pats were actually his subtle way of expressing his fondness for you.

Yuji decided to leave you be. At least he had made his point across, and he hated to say it outright, but perhaps, it was okay after all for you to be with him.

Okay didn’t mean you two had obtained his full blessing, though. But another event soon changed his perspective.

“Itadori,” Megumi’s ragged breaths was what he registered first through the sudden phone call. “Please come here—Y/N—she was—”

It was Yuji’s first time to witness pure panic from Megumi. He proceeded to tell him how you had been in pain and then collapsed, and that he had brought you to the hospital.

When Yuji arrived at the hospital, he once again saw how restless his friend was over your wellbeing. He could no longer deny it—the sight moved him.

“Hey, you awake?” Megumi’s face was the first you saw when you awoke at the hospital bed. He looked so concerned, a frown creased deep in his face. “Are you not in pain anymore?”

No, not quite much anymore, you wanted to say, but your throat felt so dry and you only managed to shake your head lightly.

“That’s good,” he let out a relieved sigh, and that was when you notice your brother at the corner of the room, looking at you two with a somewhat exasperated expression, but then he smiled.

Who knew a severe case of appendicitis would lead to Yuji giving his complete approval for you to date his best friend, huh?

But life is nothing if not full of obstacles. The next obstacle you faced after Yuji’s finding out was your parents.

“Look Y/N, we know. Megumi is a good guy,” you mother started. “We've known him for a long time, of course, personality-wise, we have nothing against him.”

You bit your lower lip in frustration. Beside you at the dinner table, Yuji kept his silence, but listened attentively too.

“It’s just… the matters of his family,” your father added, carefully choosing his words.

“His father is never in the picture, is he? And there are also rather unsettling news about him too.” Your mother was always the one being more straightforward.

Both you and Yuji knew it already. As of now, Megumi only had his stepsister, and last you heard, his father was gambling somewhere and then became a convict. Megumi said he had cut ties with him, but there was no such thing as an ex-father. Until forevermore, Fushiguro Toji, a criminal, was his biological father.

“Mom, I know your concern,” Yuji had finally decided to step up, and you were grateful for that. “Fushiguro won’t end up—”

“Yes, we know,” your mother emphasized, letting out a sigh. “But we are your parents, Yuji, Y/N. If there’s even the slightest chance, we worry. We want the best for you. Always.”

You were at a loss.

You were young, and yet you already saw him in your distant future. Being with Megumi felt so right and comfortable. He was your safe space as you were his.

But you also understood where your parents’ concerns came from, or at least tried to. At least until you found out how your father approached Megumi to talk him into thinking your relationship over.

"How could you, Dad?" you asked, aghast. "You're... practically intimidating him into breaking up with me!"

"Y/N, listen—I never meant it like that," your father tried to explain himself, and yet you were already too heartbroken to hear him, and so you shut the door to your room, not giving him any chance.

Why did your relationship suddenly become everyone's business? Why couldn't they just let you be an adult?

Megumi could still hear your father's words rang in his ears.

"Y/N... we raised her with love and care," your father said with a forlorn expression. By all means, Megumi knew that he meant well. "She's always spoiled, my only daughter... Megumi-kun, you must understand, it's not easy for us too."

He knew that his rather colorful past would get in the way one way or another, and he had come to accept it. But it still stung, because of course, he wanted full blessings from the family of the girl he fell in love with.

You were like a ray of sunshine in his dreary life. Like Yuji, your presence had made an impact on him. Your cute smiles, pouts and vulnerability around him... he loved them all.

He would get upset when you looked sad, just as you were now.

"It's really okay... Y/N." He swiftly wiped your tears with his thumb, as you sniffled. "I didn't take it to heart. Your father is just worried about you... I can understand that."

"But still—h-he shouldn't do that," you replied amidst your small sobs. Above all, you didn't want your father to have spooked him. "Megumi... I don't want to break up with you."

And honestly he didn't expect that. You were afraid of him... leaving you?

He, who did everything he could, just to have you to be by his side?

"Sir, I know where you are coming from. As of now, I don't have much. But I can say this with confidence—I... love your daughter very much, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is happy."

"Stupid," he huffed, putting a hand on your head, before messing up your hair. And gosh, you were so cute, glaring at him through your lashes.

"I won't. I've told your father that too actually."

"Just give me two years," Megumi added with unwavering voice, staring at your father earnestly. "After graduation, I'm getting my life in order. I'll secure a stable job and do my best. I'm... going to prove it to you, and you can be the judge if I can finally deserve Y/N or not."

He was 16 when he knew you, seeing you as nothing but a little girl too timid to approach him. And he was 19 when he realized that you were everything he wanted in a girl of his dreams.

At one point in his life, Megumi thought it was okay to be alone. But ever since getting to know you, he realized that loving and being loved by you were the greatest happiness of existence.

"Thank you," he muttered afterwards, as you were still starstruck that he apparently had the balls to declare something like that before your father.

"Thank you for giving me so much love. Because of you, I realized that I too deserve to be loved."

You could feel tears glassing your eyes once again. “You are. I’m glad that you finally think so.”

And that was it—your love story. Something that had started when you were 15, and ended ten years later when you were 25, with swearing your love for each other in front of the sacred altar before your closest family and friends, and Megumi by your side.

1K notes · View notes

devine-fem · 24 days

Text

This is the post about Damian Wayne being whitewashed that will probably go ignored because it dives deeper than pointing at a Damian Wayne and urging DC to draw him darker. I don’t particularly care about likes but I feel like we should emphasize whitewashing in detail and not just pointing at Damian and being like “he should be darker than this!”

What is whitewashing?

Whitewashing is deeper than the color of someones skin, it boils down to the way they act, are perceived and is portayed over all. If you take away a character’s cultural roots in any way then you are whitewashing them.

Let’s start with The Brave & The Bold. No one talks about this but this is a perfect example of whitewashing. In the Brave & The Bold writers took Damian Wayne and just emphasized the Wayne in his name. Damian’s culture did not fit their narrative so they entirely erased it.

Bruce Wayne married Selina Kyle and after had a baby, no, that baby was not Helena. It was Damian. Damian Wayne and only Wayne. He had no connection to Talia whatsoever. They erased Talia and the Al Ghuls entirely from Damian’s story.

This is an example of how his whitewashing goes deeper than skin. He’s now entirely white, drawn as white and lives as a white kid. They changed the way he acted, was perceived and portrayed.

Then because that’s not enough. His identity was a very blatant copy of Tim Drake. He takes Tim Drake’s suit, he takes Tim Drake’s backstory and he takes Tim Drake’s iconic catchphrases, its extremely jarring. This is another example of whitewashing, taking away his personality and to fit a white character.

The Tim Drake curse.

Another example of whitewashing would be the continuous attempt to make Damian Wayne more relatable by watering down his personality and making him reflect Tim Drake. Tim Drake was Robin for so long and so loved that it has a lasting effect on other characters as well. As long as Damian wears that “R” that was celebrated at its highest when the character wearing it was fair skinned then I doubt he’ll ever escape this. This is whitewashing because erasing his personality is also erasing his roots on the most basic level. In his stories, he becomes an average highschool student, pursues romances, indulges in feel good family fun, gets bullied, and wears suits and changes his hair once again to reflect Tim Drake. I don’t even have to mention how light he is.

The Three Horsemen of The Pale-skinned Apocalypse.

On the left we have a portrayel of Damian Wayne with light skin and blue eyes. Not only that but in this comic, they didn’t even get his culture right… the writer must had thought he was japanese… he’s not… he’s part Arab and Chinese but genetically dominant and visually POC.

In the middle we have a Damian Wayne called “Ian.” It’s just Ian. This is an example of whitewashing because if you didn’t know; Talia named Damian after the word “Damianos” which means ‘to tame’. To erase his cultural roots in his name then you are whitewashing him. And Jonathan Kent, a visually and socially white character regardless of the immigrant-kryptonian allegory, did not get this treatment. Those characters seem to never get this treatment as we know.

On the right, we have Damian’s newest installation, the one DC twisted their comically large spoon into their Witch’s caucasian cauldron and used their magic to zap Damian with that Tim Drake curse. Damian’s eyes are green, not grey or blue and his hair is thicker than that, not straight and thin. Nor does he act like this. This is an example of whitewashing. You are changing how he acts, is perceived and portayed.

How to avoid this?

It’s simple actually, just exercise the way he was originally portayed which sadly has never been wrote exactly right since he was first introduced but as you can see:

This Damian Al Ghul-Wayne flaunts his culture in the way he dresses and acts. This Damian Al Ghul-Wayne speaks his native languages when it’s convenient to him. This Damian Al Ghul-Wayne is connected to Talia and grew up in the league of Assassins. This Damian Al Ghul-Wayne made his own Robin suit.

He has brown skin, he has soft green eyes, and look at his monolids, his hair is also thick and his face is dinstinctly shaped as well. The easiest way is just to portay Damian as he is; An Arab-Chinese kid.

For example, this artist made a conscious decision to study the way Damian Wayne looks before drawing him. Even adding distinct features like a nose bump which we never get to really see from him.

Why does whitewashing happen?

The idea that a person of colors’ features and culture are not appealing to the audience and needs to be altered to fit the norm in order to be palatable.

In fandom.

If you portray Selina Kyle as Damian’s mother then you are whitewashing him. If you change the way he acts in fanfiction because you don’t like it then you are whitewashing him. If you draw Damian Wayne lighter than what he’s supposed to be than you are whitewashing him. If you demonize the Al Ghuls and put the batboys in place of them then you are whitewashing him. If you change the meaning of Robin for him then you are whitewashing him (this does not include reverse robin AU’s for example) and if you make him do any action that’d align him with what an American kid is supposed to be doing then you are whitewashing him. But let’s say you make a AU where the point is his personality is different or his upbringing is different, this is not whitewashing, this is having fun. To have an initial subconscious mental bias when it comes to a POC character is different, entirely different.

And about other races… Damian Wayne is one of the few Arab-chinese portrayels in Media, please do not alter this, even if its to make him any other variant of POC. Damian Wayne is Damian Wayne and if that’s not interesting enough for you then use a different character that is that race. <- do not fight me on this.

We as a collective should focus on portaying Damian Wayne. It’s deeper than skin. It’s crazy because its really not that complex…

In conclusion, be mindful of why you were invited to this Damian Wayne function…

#just was a lil tired #of no one wanting to put in effort #damian wayne #damian wayne meta #damian wayne whitewashing #batfam #dc comics #super sons #bruce wayne #talia al ghul #al ghul family

474 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

Note

Have you ever think about Boothill, Sunday and Dan Heng with Foxian reader?

Poke ears and brush tail, they will do it with a smile while watching you squirm and face burn in embarrassed.

One of them will bury his face into your tail and sniff it gently, your tail is his pillow and teddy bear to hug.

Boothill:

This man would take one look at your ears and tail and automatically his mind is filled with ways he could -lovingly- get on your nerves. He’s just fascinated by the way they twitched and perk up at even the slightest of sounds, it was as cute as it was entertaining.

He’d even softly blow hot air against your ears and watches as they would twitch/ flinch at the sensation and how you’d try to hide your fluster expression behind your tail.

He loves getting you riled up and will not give it up for the life of him as it was just too much fun!

Boothill was shameless in his teasing and that was enough to make you flustered and he’s barely even touched you! He’d probably even used his shark like teeth to playfully chomp on your ears, drowning out your protests with his boisterous laughter.

Your tail is his personal pillow and his head is always buried deep within it 24/7. He’s nuzzling it, smelling it, kissing it and so much more that the crimes he committed against your tail and ears were astronomical.

Dan heng:

Had accidentally fell asleep on your tail once. Cuddling against it even and muttering under his breath about how ‘soft’ and ‘warm’ your tail was as he nuzzled his face into it with a small smile upon his face.

The moment you told him this the next morning, the poor man was embarrassed and flustered to the highest of heavens. He was about to profusely apologise for his actions when you waved him off and saying that it was pretty cute of him, before then telling Dan Heng that he was more then welcomed to do it again should he ever get tired.

He tries to reframe from doing so now but even he had to admit that at times it was just too tempting to pass up. And yet he still managed to find the will power within to not give in, he’s already made a fool out of himself once in front of you, he was not doing it again.

…until he does it again and cuddles up against your tail, purring as he once again smiles while doing so. You’ve decided not to mention any of this to him later on, and kept it as your little secret.

Sunday:

He’s the type to poke and prod at your ears and tail just to see you get flustered and squirm beneath his insightful gaze.

He finds you easy to tease but that never stops him from taking through enjoyment every time you fail to swat him away, or conceal your expression behind your bushy tail. After all His wings were pretty sensitive too but yet you still touched them with a mischievous smirk, so of course he’s going to want to get back at you for it.

It’s a game to him to see just how many expressions he could coax out of you within a certain time frame before leaving abruptly.

‘H-hey! Where are you going?’ You’d cry as you felt Sunday pull away from toying with your ears, watching on in confusion as he stood up from his seat, adjusted his clothes and began to walk towards the door.

‘I have a meeting soon and I do not wish to be late because I was indulging in…other things.’ He says as he looked over his shoulder with a wry smile at your expression, but you couldn’t help it! The way he spoke was only meant as a means to make everything that happened come off more intimate than it actually was!

You hated him sometimes for drawing reactions for you so easily but that was also something you admired too, and besides you did kinda start it but messing with his wings.

906 notes · View notes

bigfatbimbo · 3 months

Note

I wanna ruin vox.

I want to mess with him all day.

Wakes up: dry humping and cums in his pants with a shudder

Office?: Riding your thigh, the friction not enough.

During a meeting?: Riding him as he draws blood from trying to. Stay quiet by biting his hand.

And at the end of the day edging him so much he cries.

Brainrot.

a/n — Love this idea! Sub Vox prompts always have me drooling. Especially when were mean to him.

Morning would go something like this; waking Vox up innocently enough by straddling him and placing kisses on his screen. He would rise and after a few moments kiss you back. Morning affection, all wholesome and fun, right?

Of course, until you start grinding down on his crotch, making him suck in breath and mutter out a few curses. Hump him faster and his grip will tighten on the bedsheets.

He would ask you to take his pants off, but you would deny him and say “Oh, I don’t know sweetheart. Doesn’t it seem a little early in the morning for that?”

He’d whine because that’s not fair. You’re trying to get a rise out of him, and in a very literal sense, it’s working.

Oh well, continue to kiss his screen while humping his clothed dick. He whimpers and whines for you to ‘Just get it over with and undress him!’

But good boys ask for things they want nicely, so once again, you deny him. At this point he’s squirming below you, still being peppered in kisses. However, it becomes too much for him to take and he messes up his comfy pajama pants with his cum. He’s still whining, from the mess, the way you scolded him afterwards, and then the way you got off immediately.

Around noon, you’d find him in his office, trying to do work. But it wouldn’t take long to convince him to take a little break.

It would take an even shorter amount of time for you two to start making out, and you pulling him onto your lap, moving his hips slowly with your hands. He whimpers into your mouth as he picks up the pace.

Trying to take off his work coat, he would whine about how tight his clothes felt. However, you stop him when he tries to unbutton his shirt, instructing him to keep riding your thigh.

He would bitch about it and try to formulate some snarky comment, but at the same time he would hump your leg fast and more desperately, eyes filling with tears because it’s just not enough.

You sink your teeth into his neck and he’d cry out and tell you to “take it easy!” But all power in his voice is gone by the end of the sentence when his voice cracks and he bites back a moan.

Finally you do take it easy on him, in the afternoon. Except really, you don’t. He’s on call for a meeting and thank god it’s not a video call because you’re in his lap riding his dick.

He’s trying not to cry out or whine or make any noise other than the occasional ‘mhm’ to make it seem like he was listening.

But the way you’re slamming your pussy on to his cock made him want to cry. He was trying hard to muffle his ragged breath by covering his mouth with his hand.

He’s drooling into his palm and his eyes are becoming unfocused. The noise of the call become useless background noise. But he’s trying to hold himself together. “Uh-huh” is all he says now, the illusion that he was really mentally present during the meeting slowly shattering.

He has to bite down on his thumb when he feels himself about to cum. But then you turn his head towards you and make him watch you, still riding his dick mercilessly.

This is eyes breaking point, he sinks his teeth into his thumb, drawing blood as he climaxes. Still, that didn’t muffle the whimper he let out well enough.

He’d cover for himself on call after a few moments, saying he just got a paper cut or something.

And now it’s nighttime and you’re being absolutely ruthless. After everything you put him through today, you’re still not letting him cum easily. Hasn’t he taken everything so good, though? He’s been a little bratty, sure, but all and all, hasn’t he done everything you asked?

Now, he doesn’t even try to fight back, no snarky comments or anything. He just takes it, listens, holds back, and fucking cries. Tears are streaming from the corner of his eyes and dampening his screen. He’s glitching out and buffering and begging you for mercy.

Because you’re touching him everywhere so gently and saying such nice things but yet, he still has to hold back. Your hands play with his cock, his nipples, anywhere they can grab.

And he’s still sobbing under the attention and pleading with you to ‘stop!’ ‘give him more’ ‘let him cum’ just anything.

He’s sniffling and crying when you finally lean down and kiss him, saying how he’s “been such a good boy the whole day, and he deserves to finally let go.”

He’s whining and whimpering out of pure relief as he finally climax’s, falling back and relaxing in the bed breathlessly.

You coo down at him about how good he was and how patient he was, treating him to fantastic snuggly aftercare. He deserves it after the day he’s had.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel vox #vox x you #vox x reader #inbox open #dom reader

912 notes · View notes

ellievickstar · 3 months

Text

Pretty Lies

A/N: THIS THOUGHT STRUCK ME AS I THOUGHT OF THE MEME SO LIKE BEAR WITH ME FOR A MOMENT OKAY??? also i gave up valentine week, i want to write a lot does not mean i want to stick to a schedule.

Summary: Cassian has some questions about you and Azzy's relationship, and because you are both very private people you choose not to answer Cassian truthfully, but what will happen when he decides to test your answer out?

Request: Nope.

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Warnings: Fluff. I'm in my soft era okay??? shush. This is set before even Amarantha so somewhere between the first war and the curse.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Cassian glanced between you and Azriel, both of you had been speaking through the mating bond, thus it was mostly silent. Truth to be told, your bond was quite new and Cassian had not really heard you both interact with each other since you both confessed your love.

"Hey...I have a question," Cassian spoke up, raising his hand slightly. You cocked your head curiously, waving a hand to encourage him to continue.

"Do you guys use pet names?" Glancing at Azriel, he shrugged.

"No," You said simply.

Narrowing his eyes, Cassian internally scoffed. He did not buy it, not for one moment. Azriel may have been the most quiet among the three of them but he knew for a fact that Azriel was probably the most affectionate behind close doors. Azriel cared in a way that was quiet, a way that did not draw attention. The smallest details that hinted to the fact that the shadow singer cared more than he let on.

Cassian nodded to himself, he would reveal your lies and expose them for what they are, this was his true purpose in life.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

His plan commenced during dinner.

Waiting for the proper moment to strike, he suddenly piped up when you and Rhys were deep in conversation, Azriel was listening to Amren closely as she complained about how boring her life was now.

"Hey, Y/N, what do bees make?" Cassian asked slyly. Hesitating for a second, you gazed at him before answering, "Honey?" It was then that Azriel suddenly said, "Yes, Sweetheart?" Mor exploded into laughter, Amren hummed her amusement and Rhys grinned like a wild cat.

Blushing a deep red, you turned your head to hide your face in Azriel's arm, his hand coming up to stroke your hair while your body shook from trying not to laugh, his lips curling up into a smirk.

"I KNEW IT," Cassian screamed, "YOU LIARS TOLD ME YOU DIDN'T USE PET NAMES, HOW COULD YOU LIE TO ME," Wincing at how loud he was, Azriel shot Cassian a pointed glare in which Cassian quieted down, sulking slightly as he dramatically collapsed back in his chair, clutching his chest from 'heartbreak'.

"I'm sorry Cass, but you're not the most...subtle person," You tried. You were trying to not snicker and be kind about it but he gasped louder. "I can be subtle. I am soooo subtle," He rolled his eyes.

"So if I told you I found my mate would you be calm?" Rhys joked. However, Cass's eyes widened at Rhys, his eye balls seemingly almost popping out. "I'M THE LAST ONE LEFT WITHOUT A MATE????"

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Bonus:

"Never lie to my face every again," Cass whined, chuckling you nodded, Azriel's wing tucking you closer to his side, ready to scoop you up once you were done talking to Cass so you could retire home for the night.

"I promise I will tell you every detail, even how Az-"

"NEVER MIND!"

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: hope this was fun to read heheheh see y'all next time <3

Azriel taglist: @chessebookgirl (if you guys want to be tagged in any character fics please tell me and I will happily add you <3)

#acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fluff

739 notes · View notes

matryosika · 9 months

Text

Recording Sessions

Pairing — 3racha and Reader

Wordcount — 3,485 words

Genre — Smut

Warnings — Dom!Chan and Changbin, Switch(sub lean)!Jisung, consensual voice recording. Dirty talk, use of petnames (slut), mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), brief spanking, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, mild cum play, sex in a recording booth.

Autor's note — Wrote this a while ago for a commission, but as I was lurking through my google drive I found this again. I think its fun and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, but I can't get anything done sadly. I think I wrote this back in may or june? I am not too sure, but I hope you like it! I've been writing for NCT these days and I have 2 wips for them. I'm also working on something with Lee Know as a character. I hope I can get any of that finished soon! Hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance 🤍

“Do any of you even know what a real moan sounds like?”

The look on their faces is amusing. Hadn't you been inside the recording booth, you're sure Changbin would have already headlocked you in a playful manner for running your mouth.

But you are inside the recording booth, the three of them sitting in the studio with frustration written all over their faces.

“This sounds so fake,” you continue, taking off the headset. “What did you type in youtube to get this sample? Women moaning ASMR?”

“You’re not being helpful at all, you know that?” Changbin asks, trying to keep a serious demeanor but failing almost miserably every time he remembers the audio samples that are currently as background vocals in their upcoming song. They do sound awful, but he isn't as straight-forward as you are.

“Well, you asked for my opinion and I’m giving it to you,” the smug look on your face pisses off Chan just a little, but it is nothing new —the endless bickering between the both of you has happened ever since you two met. It's always light-hearted and friendly, but it surely does bring some tension into your friendship with him.

“Any ideas on how we can improve this?”

“For once, get rid of all the fake moaning and get something that actually sounds like a woman being pleasured,” you instruct them, and smile when you see the three of them paying attention to your words. They have such abilities when it comes to music and producing, but they often look for constructive criticism outside their small group of three just to see things from different perspectives. “We don’t sound like that, it’s more like gasping for air and deep sighs accompanied with mostly quiet moans. This sounds like someone shouting exaggeratedly”.

“I’ve tried,” Chan murmurs, leaning back on his studio chair that he spins slightly. “But nothing sounds right. It’s a bit too much, maybe”.

“No, I do think the song calls for background sounds like these,” you encourage the trio. “It’s just- you need something more raw and real”.

There’s a quick moment of silence in which the four of you exchange glances, without exactly saying anything in particular.

Changbin and Chan look too deep into their own thoughts, probably trying to come up with another idea or alternative for that sound sample you all hate so much. Jisung, on the other hand, is staring right into you through the glass barrier that separates you from them, with an idea in mind he’s not quite sure how to deliver, but that he ends up doing it anyway.

“What if we record you?” Jisung asks, drawing the scowling glances of the other two. “I mean, you can obviously fake them since you're a woman, right?”

The suggestion has you cackling quietly, but even Chan and Changbin are considering it —you can tell by how they're looking at you as if they're expecting your verdict.

“Right,” you scoff, crossing both of your arms in front of your chest, “because what better way to spend my Saturday afternoon than faking moans inside a recording booth”.

“It’s not going to take you long,” It’s Chan who speaks this time. The one you thought was going to be the least to be on board with such a crazy idea. “We all know this isn’t going to be the first time you fake them”.

Your mouth opens in awe and you curse them mentally when they all laugh under their breaths. It was just one time, with a guy you didn’t even like, and you told them about it because you wanted to get the embarrassing memory out of your system. You were too bored, and desperate to go, that you ended up faking a series of moans that tricked him into thinking you were finished.

“Very funny, Christopher,” you spit, resentful. “I thought you promised not to bring that shit up, ever again”.

“And I thought you promised you’d help us,” Chan attacks, “so what is it going to be?”

You look at them for a couple of seconds, pondering the situation. You can help them, you really have nothing better to do —yet a better idea comes to mind.

“Why faking it if you can have the real deal?” you ask, nibbling at the skin against your fingernails. You’re trying to appear collected, but even suggesting such a crazy idea it’s making you feel uneasy. Unless you've gotten the signals wrong, you know they won't turn down such a proposal. “You’re all just sitting there, when one of you could help me”.

It’s Jisung who leans down over the console, clicking a red button to open the microphone.

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“Well, you were the one who pinned this on me, Han,” judging by their facial expressions, you know they understood exactly what you meant. They just want to make sure you are all on the same page. “Why don’t you come here and help me, so we can get this over with?”

“Why him?” Changbin immediately asks, offended even because you didn't consider him as your first option.

“Do you want to help me too?” you chuckle, “because I wouldn’t mind if you joined”.

“Han,” Chan’s cold voice interrupts the silence, catching the attention of the younger. He doesn’t say anything else, but rather signals for him to get inside the recording booth with a tilt of his head.

Jisung doesn’t say anything either, but his eyes flutter between you and Chan, almost begging for further instructions. He hesitates, perplexed. Not because he doesn’t want this, but because he really can’t begin to comprehend this is really happening.

“If you don’t want to, Changbin can do it,” the older speaks again.

“N-no, I mean- I can do it,” Jisung stands up from his studio chair abruptly and hastily, like he is in a rush. To be honest, he kind of is —he has been daydreaming of this moment ever since he met you, so he isn't going to waste it. Even if that means there are going to be other people watching or involved. “I just- what do I do?”

Chan and Changbin scoff quietly, teasing him. “You should ask her that question,” the former replies, crossing both of his arms and leaning back on his chair, “not us”.

“Yeah, okay”.

Jisung walks inside the booth, swallowing thickly. Is he really about to do this? Is he dreaming? Or is this some sort of a sick joke?

He can’t help but overthink the situation, but every single one of his thoughts goes away when you welcome him into your embrace, holding him tightly against your body with his half-hard cock pressing against your lower abdomen and your tits against his toned chest. The other two are watching, and that only riles him up a lot more.

“Have you ever been this shy?” You tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing your lips against his. “You’re always so cocky, always running your mouth. But right now you aren’t. I wonder why”.

“We don’t have that much time,” Chan warns you through the speakers, and you can feel the despair in his voice. Like Changbin, he’s anticipating something and you’re edging them, just like you are to Jisung.

“Then I’m going to need more help,” you hum, latching your fingers against Jisung’s dark hair while pulling him closer to the crook of your neck. He loses no time and starts kissing and licking the sensitive flesh, hiding his face there. You, on the other hand, look through the glass barrier proudly to the other two who are out. “From the both of you”.

“One isn’t enough for you? Do you need the three of us?” Chan asks, poking his cheek with his tongue. Changbin, on the other hand, observes the scene in awe, with both excitement and impatience. You don't reply, but shoot an accomplice glance at the older. “I always knew you were some of a slut, I just didn’t think this much”.

“Well, now you know,” you smile, biting your lower lip when Jisung sucks on a sensitive spot a bit too harshly, “so start recording”.

The following moments are blurry, perhaps because of how nervous you are. You try to act in control, like you're the one calling the shots. But when you feel the three of them near you, with their hands all over you, it's hard to.

“You’re not that bold now, are you?” Chan whispers in your ear, pressing your arse against his crotch. To your sides, there’s Jisung and Changbin, who grope and kiss your body as much as the other allows them to.

“I’m doing this for you,” you sigh, kicking your head back until it meets Chan’s shoulder.

“Right,” he scoffs, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to kneel in front of Changbin and Jisung. “We just wanted your advice, but somehow we ended up like this”.

“I wonder why,” you tease him looking up to him while your hands tease the men in front of you.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s such a filthy slut,” Changbin murmurs, caressing your hair back.

You can feel them through their sweatpants —you can feel how hard and ready they are for you, how desperate they are for your touch. You wish to take your sweet time with them, to suck the three of until they come in your mouth only to fuck you afterwards.

You want more than just a quick fuck. But this will have to do for now.

“Suck them off,” Chan orders, pleased with the sight of you on your knees.

Good thing you’re wearing such accessible clothes today —you’re making his job ten times easier.

“Get us nice and wet, baby,” Changbin proceeds, pulling your head against his crotch while he lowers his sweatpants just enough to release his throbbing cock. “We’re going to fuck you with it, so it’s up to you how easy you’re going to make this for yourself”.

“Don’t forget Jisung too,” the one behind you murmurs into your ear, practically kneeling right beside you while he pulls up your dress, revealing a shameful piece of clothing that he can barely name as underwear. The sight makes Chan’s cock throb even harder. “See how much he’s leaking? I know he has been dreaming of this for a while now”.

“Fucker,” Jisung hisses through gritted teeth, feeling betrayed by his friend. Truth is, he isn’t telling any lies.

“Aw, you have?” He has been infatuated with you for quite some time now, and he is too awkward to be discreet about it. You have caught him checking you out shamelessly, and it has always been a turn on for you.

“We all have,” Changbin says, nibbling at his lower lip when you wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze both of them hard, staring up at them with a mischievous smile. “If only you knew what we talk about when you’re not around”.

“Mh, I feel a little excluded now,” you pout. “Why don’t you guys just show me?”

You spent another ten minutes on your knees, being throat fucked by your dearest friends Changbin and Jisung. They take turns in burying their cocks inside your warm mouth, using your hair as leverage to let you know which one of them to suck next.

In the meantime, Chan just watches.

You’re drooling all over yourself by now, your shirt ruined with a mixture of spit, precum and sweat. Your skin feels sticky, your mouth feels full and your pussy feels wet —you really wouldn’t be surprised if the floor was stained with your arousal.

“C’me here,” Chan tells you, grabbing you by your arm and helping you get in a different position. Your knees are bruised and red, but you don’t really care —tomorrow it will be a fun reminder of what happened today. “Now let’s really start recording”.

You lay on the floor on all fours, with your ass up and your hands and knees supporting your body weight. It's an uncomfortable position, but you can only do much in a recording booth with no bed or couches.

The first one to take a spot right behind you is Changbin. Out of the three, it’s the one who seems more desperate to get his release and you kind of understand him —you’re desperate to feel something too, anything.

“I don’t have-” his voice is strangled, almost panicking. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, and the tip of his cock brushing against your slit.

“I don’t care,” you encourage him, whimpering when Chan forces your head to face his throbbing dick that he has his fist wrapped around. “Just fuck me”.

It’s the heat of the moment that's getting the best out of you, but you can’t begin to regret it when you feel Changbin’s cock burying itself little by little inside your aching pussy. You try to hold back your moans, worrying that someone outside the hall might hear you, but you know it’s practically impossible.

Plus, that’s the reason why you’re there, anyways.

So you start enjoying the moment, being as vocal as possible. If anything, the lewd sounds escaping through your lips are only pushing Changbin towards the edge, hips snapping at yours roughly enough to get a series of strained moans immersed in both pleasure and pain.

“You sound so g-good,” Changbin grunts, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. “Had I known your moans were this pretty, I've would've fucked you before”.

“Fuck, Changbin”. The way his name falls from your lips boosts his ego, and he’s glad everything is being recorded. He makes a mental note to go back to the recording later today, just in case he needs to unwind.

“Jisung will fuck you after him,” Chan demands your attention yet again, brushing the tip of his cock against your lips. He’s kneeling in front of you while Changbin is pounding your pussy from behind. Jisung, on the other hand, is stroking himself while he witnesses the scene; too shy to actually make a move himself, like the rest of them. “And then I will go next, how does that sound?”

“How many seconds- of the sample do you even need?” you chuckle, but the laugh is soon muffled by another whimper caused by Changbin’s ministrations.

“Just a couple,” he replies, smearing his precum along your lips. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave this studio without being fucked by Jisung and me, right?”

You love his cockiness, and how he is always almost right. So you nod frantically, clenching around Changbin at the idea of being filled with the both of them in just a couple of seconds.

It doesn’t take him long to come inside you, especially not with how much your pussy is clenching around him. He does so shamelessly, grunting your name and gripping your hips too harshly you’re sure it will leave a mark tomorrow.

When he pulls out, commanded by Jisung who is too desperate to wait another second, you feel his sticky arousal leaking out of you. It’s a weird sensation, and it makes you feel dirty, but you can’t deny you like it.

And you like it even more when you feel the tip of Jisung’s cock gathering all of his friend’s cum, fucking it back into you little by little, making sure it doesn’t go to waste.

“Who would’ve thought, hm?” You whimper, feeling a bit sore from Changbin’s aggressive care. “You’re not as innocent as I thought, Jisungie”.

He doesn’t say anything, but gives you a sharp thrust in response. One that makes your whole body jolt and tremble, one that earns you one of the prettiest moans the three of them have ever heard.

Chan is sure the recording is good to be used by now, but he doesn’t want to stop just yet. Or at least not until he also gets his fun.

“S-so tight,” Jisung murmurs, holding you more delicately than Changbin did. You love the contrast, though, and they’re both a good fuck. “And warm, all filled up with cum”.

“You’re going to fill me up too, Jisungie?” On any other occasion, the nickname would’ve earned you a killer gaze and a couple of curses from him. But right now, Jisung doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it. There’s something enticing about you acting like the one in control.

“Can- I?” He asks with a shakily breath. His sloppy movements tell you he is close, and you take it as a compliment. A minute is definitely a record, but you’re really not mad about it.

“That depends,” you tease him, crying out loud when his cock starts hitting sensitive spots inside your walls. “Are you going to come a lot for me?”

“Ngh, y-yes,” Jisung whimpers. “Please, I’m- close, just let- say yes, please”.

“Go on,” you order him, arching your ass even more for him. “Give it to me”.

Not even a couple of seconds later, you feel a now familiar sensation warming up your lower tummy, leaking through your pussy and onto your thighs.

“Shit,” Changbin scoffs, checking the scene out. “You made a fucking mess”.

You want to look at what he did, know how much he came for you, but Chan reinforces your initial position yet again by arching your ass even more.

“Be a good slut for me,” he tells you, landing a sharp spank on one of your ass cheeks. The sudden action makes you cry out in pain, but you don’t hate the sensation completely. “And I’ll be good to you”.

You’re not quite sure what he means, and you don’t get time to ask before he’s bottoming out inside of you.

“Fuck!” you moan, suddenly losing the strength on your arms and your upper body threatening to plop down onto the floor. “C-chan!”

“C’me here,” he groans, sneaking a hand underneath your tummy looking for your clit. Again, the position isn’t the best but he somehow makes it work. And when you feel his digits rubbing your nerves just at the same pace of his thrusts, you start clenching around him even harder.

“Oh my g-god,” that stimulation is exactly what you need to come undone. Jisung and Changbin did a hell of a job getting you closer to your orgasm, but this is exactly what you needed to reach your climax.

And a well deserved one.

“Come,” Chan grunts through gritted teeth, biting his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of your ass bouncing against his cock is enough to get him to come, but he needs you to come first. “I’ll come with you”.

“Ngh- Chan,” and just like some magic words, you’re coming right after his order. He can feel you tightening around him, trying to milk his cock just as badly as you did with the other two. And he can’t resist that feeling, so he sticks up to his word and comes inside you almost at the same time.

“Such- a good- little fucking slut,” his words are strained and painful. But his voice only contributes more to your own orgasm, just like the feeling of his cum filling you up.

It takes the two of you a few moments to actually stop —even after coming, he kept on fucking you slowly until he made sure to fuck all of their cum inside of you. The last thing he wanted was to make a mess inside the recording booth, but it was inevitable.

The floor is stained with all sorts of fluids, ones that are dripping out of your swollen pussy and others that no one knows how they got there.

“Jisung,” Chan sighs, caressing your hips while fixing his clothes. “Stay with her, I’ll go get something to clean her up. Make sure she’s alright, and take her to the sofa in the studio, ‘kay?”

Jisung nods, attentive, and he helps you get up off the floor with ease. He wraps his arm around you, and fixes the top part of your dress to which you mutter a quick and soft thank you.

“Changbin’s going to get you something to eat or drink, and I’ll take care of this. Alright?”

You nod, still supporting your whole weight on Jisung. Your sore legs can only do much.

“He’s going to be with you in the meantime, but we will all be right back,” Chan’s soft gaze is the opposite to what he showed inside the recording booth, but you absolutely adore the contrast.

“Yeah, ‘s okay,” you smile.

“You did good, yeah?” Chan smiles, caressing your hair, “sounded so pretty for us”.

You offer them a weak, yet satisfied smile, “my pleasure”.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #han smut #jisung smut #bangchan smut

2K notes · View notes

milswrites · 2 months

Text

The Bat Boys X Bookworm!Reader

Summary: What the Bat Boys (and Eris & Lucien) are like with their bookworm partners

Warnings: Lil smutty and nsfw (not too much just want to cover myself) so 18+ MDNI

Notes: Just a bit of fun really, it's different to what I usually write but I hope you guys like it!

Rhysand

Rhysand loves you

And if loving you means that he has to feed your obsession with buying books?

Then he would happily clear out all the bookshops in Velaris if it meant getting to see you smile.

Rhysand is rich-rich.

Which means if there's something you want? He'll buy it for you without question.

You once mentioned about how much you'd love your own library one day.

So of course by the end of the week you had your own little haven inside Rhysand's house with more books than you could ever dream of reading and your own little ladder to reach them all.

But he didn't stop there.

For your mating gift he purchased you your very own library in Velaris

In which Rhys may or may not have enacted his fantasies of sleeping with a Librarian.

Whilst Rhysand does like to read, his taste in books is very different to your own.

But even though he doesn't read the books you do, he's more than happy to sit and listen to you talk about your favourite ones for hours if that meant being able to see your eyes light up as you talked about something you loved.

But no books nor libraries could top the best gift he had ever given you.

A hand-written book containing the story of your relationionship.

Complete with crude little comments and drawings the High Lord had scribbled down in the margins.

Rhysand loved history.

So what better way to preserve his undying love for you than in-between the pages of a book which would last forever.

Cassian

Cassian had never been very interested in books.

He'd much rather experience the thrill of real fighting and action in person than spend his time reading about it on some dusty old pages.

In fact the only time Cassian had been in a library he had the terrifying encounter with Bryaxis.

Safe to say that the trauma he experienced was the perfect excuse for never stepping in one again.

Until he met you.

Cassian has always been the type of guy who's all in or nothing.

He discovers the person he has a crush on likes reading?

You know he's going to be walking around with books he's never even opened pretending like he is a well-read Illyrian.

Citing quotes he doesn't even understand just to try and impress you.

And once you're together?

You show Cassian exactly what he's missed out on when it comes to reading.

Especially when it comes to getting tips for your bedroom activities.

For months after you revealed to him the wonders that are smut books, Cassian would spend his free time delving through the pages looking for new ideas on how to spice up your sex life.

Claiming his increased interest in reading was due to 'research purposes'

Cassian is 100% down to roleplay characters from your novels

He loves being the big strong hero to your damsel.

Whenever Cassian catches you reading, happily curled into the comfort of your sofa, he'll approach with a smirk on his lips

"Any new tricks you'd like to try out? I think page 69 is worth a shot."

Azriel

Azriel's a busy guy.

He's always away on missions for Rhysand or working in the dungeons of the Court of Nightmare's

So he can be forgiven if when he comes home, reading is the last thing on his mind.

But what he does enjoy though, is when you read to him.

He can lay with his head in your lap for hours.

Humming along to whatever tale you tell whether it's fantasy, romance or a good thriller

Sometimes he'll even offer his input. Laugh when something especially funny happens or shed a tear whenever a character he likes died.

Azriel loves the sound of your voice

Enjoying the way you put on voices whenever a character is speaking.

He's grown to like the sense of domesticity that he feels whenever you read to him. Allowing himself to imagine you doing this to two little Illyrian babies of your own.

Reading to your wide eyed children as they are gripped by the tales you're telling

Azriel is also a gentleman.

Need a hand with carrying the books you're choosing whilst you shop?

He's there

Hands willingly taking everything you stack on top of him, trailing after you with your selections like a lost puppy.

And when you get to the till?

Azriel had already spoken to the shopkeeper upon entry and added anything you chose to his account. Claiming the books were just as much his as they were yours if you were going to read them to him.

Azriel is definitely the type of male who likes you to read your smut to him as he pleasures you, acting out the words on the page until you're unable to speak anymore, leaving the rest of the chapter to your own imagination.

Eris

Eris is a reader.

He loves nothing more than to settle down after a long day with a good book in hand and a steaming tea.

You can't tell me he doesn't find it the hottest thing ever when he discovers you like to read too

The two of you have your own little book club

You'll each read the same book and then have a little meeting when it's over to discuss what you thought of it.

He can also get really emotional and intense about them.

God knows the amount of times you've had to calm him down when a character has made a choice he didn't like.

I think Eris definitely likes to write too

Not seriously, but it's a good way for him to get his thoughts out and to escape from the day to day of his reality.

And he loves to have you read his work

To see the way your face lights with joy as your eyes flick through his beautiful prose.

A small smile upon his lips at the knowledge that the muse for his writings was you.

Lucien

Lucien also likes to read.

But the way you read?

It terrifies him.

The way you obsess over the characters from your stories.

Your passionate opinions on their decisions and the plots.

God forbid Lucien says something about them that you don't agree with.

Lucien finds you positively feral when it comes to the stories you like.

But that doesn't stop him from wanting to show interest in them too.

Lucien likes to read all your favorite books and leave annotations of his thoughts in the margins.

This was exactly how the two of you had gotten together, the male having gifted you with a copy of a book he had noticed you reading.

The pages filled with scratchy comments and opinions on everything that happened.

Lucien pours his soul into his annotations and you love that.

Lucien is also a poetry man.

He loves to recite verses to you which stick out to him

Sometimes they were romantic, making your heart stop in your chest and breath catch in your throat.

But Lucien was also a fan of satirical poetry

The most ridiculous, corny things you have ever heard.

He'll come find you as you're going about your day and recite his latest read to you - your eyes rolling to the back as you did so, yet you fail to hide the smile which crosses your face every time he does so.

He has also tried to write you poetry before, express the depth of his feelings towards you. Safe to say his lame attempt of a limerick earnt him a scoff and had you hiding all his poetry books from him for the next month.

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #cassian x reader #eris vanserra x reader #cassian #eris vanserra #rhysand x reader #rhysand #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra x reader

807 notes · View notes

hijackalx · 2 months

Note

Headcanon thingy, but who would the boys (Gale, Astarion, Wyll, and Gortash) react to seeing their lover trying on lingerie?

felt like testing my drabble skills so i added a lil something extra to them 😎💗 enjoy pookie!!

GN!reader

SLIGHT NSFW BELOW

GALE

likes when you surprise him with it. wear some under your clothes as a little treat for when he’s undressing you 😌✨

you look so good that it makes him trip over his words. he’s too busy ogling your body to pay attention to what he’s saying. will have him laughing like a nervous virgin 😹

LOVESSSSS garters. can’t keep his hands off of them. particularly loves the way your thighs strain beneath them when you’re on your knees

instantly wants to enchant the bottoms to make them vibrate and watch you get off like that (don’t ask if that’s actually possible my brain functions on horny not logic)

your outfit is inconspicuous, plain— perfect for covering up the lingerie hiding beneath. you wait patiently in his lap as he unwraps your silken robe, biting back a smirk.

he pauses to take in the sight of the lace hugging your skin, how it flows so delicately around your shape. he tuts, shooting you a familiar, frivolous grin. “feeling naughty tonight, are we?” just moments later, his hands move to rest on your bottoms, a seemingly harmless action that results in a soft buzz and a gasp. “i can work with that.”

ASTARION

insists on going with you to pick some out. follows you into every dressing room to “make sure it fits right” lol. so picky but mostly because he loves watching you try them on

his favorites are flowy/frilly types, like babydoll tops or satin robes. also LOVES stockings of any kind

makes you feel like an actual doll ✨🌸 repeatedly tells you how perfect you are and can’t keep his hands off you. will also try to get you flustered by whispering really dirty stuff about how you look into your ear

likes when you have fun with it and show off for him— be cheeky. do a little spin. bend over in front of him. be prepared for him to pinch or smack your ass though

he sits comfortably on the dressing room bench as you approach him. “how about this one?” you pull your bottom lip in playfully, placing your hands on his shoulders as he takes your body into his grasp.

“mm,” erupts from his throat, watching as his lithe fingers slip over and under the fabric sparsely covering your skin. “now, this one i like.” he places a slow and deliberate kiss to your exposed abdomen, his ruby gaze flitting up to meet yours; there’s an impish glint to them that tells you he doesn’t plan on waiting to have you any longer.

GORTASH

likes to make sketches of you wearing it. has so many drawings of you in compromising positions with it on. definitely keeps them for when he’s alone

loves corsets and bustiers because of how they emphasize your chest, especially in blacks and reds. crotchless panties also drive him INSANE

the sluttier you act while wearing it the better. don’t try to be modest (there’s honestly no reason to be anyway, he’s a freak fr 😹😹)

a sucker for fishnets. likes to take them off and use them to tie your wrists together. will also shove them in your mouth/gag you with them on occasion

his dark irises glance up from his work every so often to study your decorated figure; they follow the arch of your back, the heart shape of your ass, and linger on the exposed area between your thighs more often than not.

“lower,” he directs, and you immediately respond by deepening the angle of your back. he hums contently, scribbles some more, then adds, “spread your legs further.”

you comply once again, happy to flaunt your body under his gaze. the corner of your lip pulls upward, anticipating your reward for being such an obedient little muse.

WYLL

bust this out on your honeymoon and he gets SOOO flustered. i’m talking stuttering/looking away/rubbing his neck

his favorites on you are lacy teddies— especially in blues, purples, and whites. more traditionally sexy styles really get him going

lowkey so obsessed with how you look in it. the kind of thing that’s on his mind 24/7. almost always asking you to put it on for him at the end of the day with a little pout 😹💗

LOVES when you strip for him nice and slow, especially how you tease him by carefully revealing each skimpy garment beneath your clothes. a lapdance is also mandatory

you spot the anxiousness simmering beneath his lax surface— he longs to touch you, but you’d rather toy with him a little more.

prowling closer to where he sits, you slowly unbutton your blouse. with each maneuver of your fingers, you reveal the lingerie lying beneath, watching how his hungry, needy gaze fixates on it.

he inhales sharply as you straddle his lap and take his hand in yours. he lets you guide it over your ornamented body, his eyes heavy with desire as he mutters a low and raspy, “you’ll ruin me.”

#bg3 #astarion #enver gortash #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #astarion x reader #enver gortash x reader #gale dekarios x reader #wyll ravengard x reader #my headcanons #bg3 headcanons #drabbles

588 notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 3 months

Note

ee congrats. What about a blurb or headcanons, whichever u want i suppose, of fake dating with Frank Castle having to infiltrate something or another? ^_^

Faking It.

frank castle x female reader

warnings - cursing. allusions to sex.

written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

He’s got his hand on your ass.

Sure, the two of you are playing a couple, undercover in a Mr & Mrs Smith style mission. But surely there’s a thousand other places he could put his hand.

You look at him with a scowl on your face and he winks, all cheeky and boyish. Heat crawls its way up your skin, and you beg yourself to calm down. It’s fake. It’s all pretend.

When you enter the ballroom of the gala, it’s packed with people. Frank winds a hand around the back of your neck, steering you in the right direction. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

You’re laughing and playing fake niceties to an old couple at the bar. They’re telling you how beautifully in love you look, and all you can do is rest your head on Frank’s shoulder and sigh wistfully as they coo. He pulls you into him with a hand on your ass, and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs. He knows he’s riling you up. That’s why he’s doing it.

It’s becoming a game, now. Who can wind the other person up more.

Frank is sat on a fancy leather couch, sweet talking a middle aged woman in a long purple dress. You approach, and take the spot right on his lap, wiggling your hips to get comfortable. He hisses in your ear, fake smile still on his face, and the satisfaction you feel is unparalleled.

You’re out in the hallway coming up with a plan when two men walk past, eyeing you suspiciously. You do what any logical woman would do - smash your lips to Franks and hope he doesn’t question it. He kisses you back with much more passion than necessary, one hand around your neck and the other one on your stomach, pushing you backwards into the wall. You bite his lip as hard as you can and he groans, all deep and pretty, and you’re starting to think this plan has backfired massively.

“Damn, girl.”

“Had to think on my feet.”

“Don’t think your feet were the body part you were thinkin’ with.”

You punch his arm as hard as you can, laughing when he grabs it in pain.

“Let’s get that fucking info and get out of here. I’m sick of everyone telling me how handsome my husband is.”

“He is though, isn’t he?” he teases as he grabs your hand, walking back into the crowds of people unaware of your scheme.

Your fingers stay intertwined for the rest of the evening. He squeezes every now and again, once or twice, and you figure out the code pretty quickly. It’s a silent communication, and it works. In no time, you’ve got what you needed, slipping out of the front door and down the huge winding driveway.

You snatch your hand away, and smack his ass as hard as you physically can.

“What the fuck was that for?”

“Revenge. You grabbed my ass way more than necessary tonight.”

He laughs, and you hate the way it makes you smile.

“Good kiss, by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re a good kisser. Even if you did draw blood.”

“I’m about to draw a lot fuckin’ more if you don’t shut up, Frank.”

He chuckles, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Might suggest we play a couple every time we go undercover. This is kinda fun.”

454 notes · View notes

lale-txt · 8 months

Text

♡ 𝟗:𝟑𝟖𝐚𝐦 𝐰/ 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐚 & 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

@eustasssimp asked: okay so I just had to based on our recent conversations but FIRST!!! THANK YOU FOR REOPENING YOUR INBOX!!!!! your writing is such a gift and I am so excited to see what people request 💛 I hope you can have lots of fun with it could I please request some sfw Madara and just spending a lazy relaxed day at home with him? grumpy man needs to RELAX (I haven’t requested in so long I am desperately trying to remember how to do this lmao) thank you so much dearest Lale I hope you are able to have a good time and take it easy with the requests you get coming in 🤍

a/n: first time writing for this fine gentleman eep! thank you so much for your request, Lem! this was so much fun to write (though it did take a slightly different turn than i expected and somehow Hashirama makes a guest appearance oops)

word count: 1k

Your morning starts like it always does: Tangled.

Black hair is spilled all over the shared futon, getting in your eyes while you’re slowly blinking awake. You try to stretch your limbs but hear a disgruntled noise in your ear in return, a low and raspy voice muttering your name, while strong arms (and a leg thrown over your lower half) pull you closer. You laugh quietly against your partner’s chest, hearing his heart beating slow and steady next to you.

“You came home late last night… did you have to drag Hashirama out of the gambling hall again?”, you whisper with a hint of amusement in your voice, which is answered by an annoyed huff from Madara.

“That idiot almost lost his hokage cloak and the stupid hat… should have just left him butt naked on the streets and gone back home to you”, he replies, his eyes still shut. Madara isn’t a morning person, never was, but the fact that he’s engaging in a conversation with you means that he’s either more awake as he pretends or that he’s feeling slightly guilty for letting you go to bed alone last night.

Your heart flutters and you smile when Madara presses a soft kiss on top of your head. His embrace feels the same like his love does; warm, secure and maybe a bit too intense if you’re not used to it. He is an Uchiha after all, who are notorious for the way they love–but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I know you always come back to me though,” you whisper and cup his face with two hands once you manage to brush aside his long hair (and yet it was still everywhere). The morning sun was slowly crawling through the closed curtains but neither of you felt the urge to get up just yet.

Madara hums at your words, placing his hand on top of yours to kiss the palm of it, down to your wrist, before opening one eye slightly. There’s a faint smile on his lips when he glances at you, and once again you can’t believe that you get to wake up next to him every day–for the rest of your lives even, the golden wedding bands on your ring fingers being proof of that. In one swift motion Madara rolls onto his back and your body right with him, making you lie on top of him and muffling your small protests with a kiss on your lips.

“Can we stay like this for a little while?”, he mumbles in your ear, big hands finding their way underneath your shirt to feel your soft skin, fingertips drawing small circles on your back. You reply with a small noise of agreement, your face nuzzled in the crook of your husband’s neck, enjoying his affection. Oh, how tempting it is to drift back into sleep… and after all, why not? You’ve found a home in these arms, the safest place on Earth. Madara kisses your forehead, loving this slow morning as much as you do. If you had your eyes open, you would see the smile curling up on his lips and the tenderness in his gaze as he looked down on your figure resting on top of him.

“I could make us breakfast,” he mumbles after a while, lifting your chin with two fingers to kiss your lips again, “and maybe run us a bath afterwards? Been a while since I washed your hair for you.”

A heartbeat later there’s a rattling noise coming from the kitchen, as if someone dropped several plates all at once, followed by a quiet “oops” in a voice that sounds a little familiar…

You prop yourself up on your elbows to look Madara in the eyes, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“You’re not just proposing that because there is–what I assume–a half-naked and hungover hokage in our kitchen, roaming around for something to eat?”

Madara looks guilty as charged and gives you an expression that could be best described as puppy eyes, silently pleading for your mercy. You can’t help but laugh and place a kiss on his lips. It’s not like you were mad at him to begin with, you found it was actually very thoughtful of your husband to make sure his best friend didn’t get himself into any trouble and risk getting scolded by his stern brother once again. Plus it wasn’t the first time either, you were almost getting used to your snack stash getting raided by a certain someone…

“I’ll kick him out and then I’ll make us breakfast,” Madara corrects himself with a slight cough. “Our bathtub is too small for three anyway.” He laughs quietly when you smack him with a pillow, grabbing your wrists playfully to stop you from attacking him any further. Madara uses the chance to kiss you again, a little more intense this time until your shoulders slump down and you practically melt into his embrace again. Sneaky, witty Uchiha.

“Tell Hashirama that next time he steals my husband away, I’ll file an official complaint with the hokage office”, you tease once you watch Madara get up and leave the room, wearing nothing but a loose morning robe. He rolls his eyes at you slightly but his smile betrays him as he stops in the door frame to look at you, still in the sheets that smell so heavenly like him. He shakes his head and laughs quietly, heart so full of you, and then he’s stomping down the hallway towards the kitchen.

What was supposed to be a quiet morning somehow turned into a kitchen duel of two adult men challenging each other in who could beat eggs the fastest (Hashirama, but Madara cooked them faster thanks to his katon) with you as their judge, and an impromptu breakfast with even more unannounced visitors (Izuna and Tobirama coming to check up on their respective brothers after abandoning them last night at the gambling hall for good), filling your house with bickering and laughter.

But you don’t mind. As long as you get to be his, mornings like these make your heart grow fonder, knowing you have a lifetime with each other ahead. It is right there, in front of you, this bright, blazing heart of his.

#naruto x reader #madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara x y/n #madara x you #madara uchiha #naruto fluff #naruto scenarios #naruto imagines

880 notes · View notes

evansbby · 11 months

Text

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bestfriend!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: HEAVY SOMNO, dark!Ari, smutt, daddy!kink, non-con, 18+ only, minors dni.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your best friend, Ari, wants to fuck you. And he doesn’t care if you’re awake or asleep...

𝐀/𝐍: SUPER DARK. Please, if you don’t like, don’t read! The whole thing is basically somno, and this is a dark fic! Please beware of that. Apart from that, enjoy! Also, this is completely unedited lol please be kind.

“Ow! Ari! I told you; my boyfriend won’t like it if you do that!”

“What? This?”

Ari plants his lips against the nape of your bare neck, giving the sensitive skin a hearty suck. His fingers dance down your body, digging into your ribs and making you giggle and squirm on top of him.

“Stop! It hurts!”

“Oh yeah? Why are you laughing, then?” He tickles you harder, holding you tightly in his arms lest you try to escape. You’re too busy laughing your head off to notice his lips press against your skin once more, his tongue lathering at the hickey he’s just given you. And then he sucks again, so hard that your laughter is cut short and you gasp, feeling like your sensitive skin is going to break as he continues to suction it.

“Nooo, Ari, please! Steve won’t like that! He’ll get the wrong idea!”

Ari draws back and smirks, “Please. We’ve been best friends longer than you’ve been going out with Steve. And best friends are allowed to cuddle every now and then, I’m sure your tool of a boyfriend will understand that.”

“Hey! Don’t call him a tool!” You smack Ari on the chest but all he does is grab both your wrists with one hand, his other one snaking down to tickle you some more. You scream and laugh, trying to break free but he’s way too strong as he pins you down on the sofa, climbing on top of you and continuing to attack your ribs with his fingers.

Ari had been your best friend for years – ever since high school, to be exact. He was big and protective and strong and confident, making you feel safe whenever you were around him. He was also goofy and fun and kind, but he usually reserved those personality traits for when the two of you were alone. Everyone else knew him as Ari Levinson, the football star with huge prospects – the NFL’s newest recruit, in fact – and a man with a dangerous streak in him.

But you knew him as just Ari, the boy you’d grown up with. The one who you’d watched funny movies with till the two of you peed your pants laughing, the one who’d always helped you study for all your tests. The one who you’d shared so many of your firsts with. Your first time on a plane had been with Ari when the two of you had jetted off to Bali (a graduation present from his parents). Your first-time smoking weed had also been with Ari (he’d laughed and assured you that the police were not going to lock you up for smoking a joint).

Even your first kiss had been with Ari. (“Don’t worry, I’m just going to show you how to do it.” Ari had assured you, “No strings attached, baby. I don’t wanna jeopardise our friendship, it’s the most important thing in the world to me.”) And show you he had, and you still remember his soft lips on yours, like a warm pillow working against your mouth. His breathless whispers against you, coaxing you to use your tongue, and his big hands holding you close to him, almost like he never wanted to let you go.

You’d kissed many guys since then, but Ari didn’t know about all of them. He seemed to grow upset and irritated any time you mentioned going on a date with anyone, let alone kissing and making out and all that other stuff. All of which you’d done with Steve, your current boyfriend. In fact, Steve had taken your virginity this past summer – but Ari didn’t have to know that. It had taken him weeks to accept that Steve was your boyfriend, you knew it would take him another year to process that you’d given your virginity to Steve too.

But Ari was just protective, you always reasoned to yourself. And there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, you liked how secure he made you feel and how he was always there for you. How he always dropped everything for you, even with the bazillions of girls who were after him. (Ari, with his rugged good looks, was always popular with the ladies. But being an NFL star boosted his popularity even more – he had supermodels regularly going in and out of his house. You could confirm, you’d run into one or two a few times).

“Hello? You still there?” Ari bounces you in his lap to get your attention. “It’s no fun torturing you when you don’t give me a reaction.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

He nudges your nose with his and shoots you his winning smile, the one that makes his blue eyes sparkle. “I’m the one who does the thinking, remember? You just look pretty.”

You blink, “Steve says he likes it when I space out. He wants me to write all my thoughts down so he can turn them into poetry.”

Ari rolls his eyes, “He sounds like a douche.”

You smack his hard chest once more. “He’s not. If you just agreed to meet him once, you’d like him just as much as I do.”

“I doubt it.”

You bat his chest again.

“Ow! Okay, okay, I’d like him! Now can we stop talking about Steve when it’s you and me time?” Ari huffs, giving you a squeeze. “I finally got you all to myself for the weekend and all you want to do is talk about Steve.”

“Aww, I’m sorry, Ari. What do you want to do?”

The two of you end up putting on a movie and cuddling on the couch. It’s raining cats and dogs outside, but the steady pitter-patter of the water droplets against the window creates an oddly calming atmosphere. Inside, you feel toasty warm in Ari’s embrace, the big brunette holding you tightly against his chest as he spoons you and all you can hear is the movie mixed in with the crackling of the fireplace and your best friend’s steady breathing against your neck.

“I always get sleepy when we cuddle.” You yawn, giggling when his lips find your neck again. Cuddling with Ari was always fun – the two of you had been doing it for years. Ari had told you that all best friends cuddle like this, where the two of you are so close that you can feel every part of him. Even his hard crotch as it nestles against your ass, and every few seconds he shuffles or grabs your hips and moves you up and down. But he probably doesn’t realise what he’s doing, or that you can feel him getting… excited. He probably doesn’t mean to get excited anyways.

You sometimes get excited while cuddling with Ari too. Excited down there. But you’re too shy and embarrassed to ever tell him. You’re meant to just be best friends with him, for Godsakes! Nothing more!

“Ari?”

“Mm, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your neck, where his tongue is currently licking over a spot that he’s been sucking for a while now.

“I know you said that all best friends give each other hickeys while cuddling, but I don’t think Steve would like it if he saw these.”

Ari groans, not letting up at all as he continues to suck at the one spot on your neck. In fact, you feel his teeth graze against your sensitive skin and you gasp when he bites down. Not too hard, but enough to make the mark even more prominent. God, you’d need a lot of makeup to cover that up – you knew without even looking at it.

“There you go again, talking about Steve when it’s meant to be us time. Now shh, I’m trying to relax and watch the movie. You should try and do the same.”

You do try, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as you watch the movie play out on the television. The pitter-patter of the rain outside makes you feel even sleepier, so much so that you barely even register it when you feel Ari’s hands slip under your tank top. He did that sometimes, claiming that his hands got cold very easily and he needed the warmth of your bare skin to heat them back up – which was totally understandable. His palms always felt warm against you, however, but you knew that Ari knew best.

“Is this the new bra I got you?”

You yelp when you feel his hands cup your breasts over the material of your bra, giving them a few squeezes that have you involuntarily pressing your thighs together.

“Ari!”

His hands don’t move, instead he squeezes your breasts harder, and your face grows hot as your nipples stiffen, poking through the lace material and straight against his palm.

“Well? Is it?”

“Yes, it is.” You answer, stifling a yawn and deciding you’re too tired to fight him off you. He was just feeling extra touchy – he as like that sometimes. It was purely platonic and didn’t mean a thing. And it’s not like he was feeling you up, he was probably just trying to detect the material of the bra. It was one of the few (about twelve) lingerie sets from Victoria’s Secret that Ari had had delivered to your apartment a few days ago. He was always surprising you with gifts, it was actually very sweet of him.

“Good. I like it when you wear things I bought for you.”

“Mmhmm.” You’re feeling drowsier and drowsier, and it’s so comfy being in Ari’s strong arms as they hold you in place against his chest. Cuddling with Ari really was the best, and it just made you so sleepy…

“Go to sleep, baby.” Ari croons in your ear, giving you another tight squeeze. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Ari watches you drift off in his arms, his boner unbearably hard as he digs it into your ass. Fuck, you had the world’s cutest little bubble butt, and the way it was currently nestled against his dick was making him so fucking horny, it was unreal.

In fact, he was so riled up that everything you did tonight was making him horny. From the way you pranced around your apartment in those tight grey legging that made your ass pop, bending down to pick up God knows what and giving him an eyeful of your backside, making his palms itch to give it a slap or two. He’d gotten away with it in the past, various times while the two of you play-wrestled. And he’d just blame it on the innocent “rough-housing” as he’d smack your ass quickly in succession, loving how you’d squeal and dig your face into his chest in embarrassment. (Or pleasure, because Ari knew you secretly liked it).

And now here you were, cute little you practically unconscious in his arms. Wearing the pretty pink lace bra that he’d bought for you and cuddling up close to his chest. Unknowingly, you rub your butt against his crotch, making him groan in frustration. Goddamit, did you have to be so fucking hot? In your sexy leggings and your tight tank top that just about left nothing to the imagination. Not to mention how cute and innocent you were, and so much smaller than him, so much weaker than him…

“Fuck, baby, you’d run for the hills if you knew the thoughts I was thinking.” Ari tells you, giving your breasts another squeeze.

“What?” You mumble, but it seems like you’re halfway in dreamland. Which is exactly what Ari wants, because fuck it. He’s done waiting around for you, picturing you when he jacks off. He’s been doing that for years now, because he cums the hardest when he pictures you. All sweet and innocent, getting fucked by him in various positions. Crying because his cock is so big as it violates you, tears you open and claims you as he fucks you deep and hard, till you can feel him up in your womb. Till you’re screaming his name, telling him that he’s your daddy, telling him you’ll do anything for him.

Ari still remembers the first time you’d made him cum. You hadn’t been aware of it, but the way you’d bounced up and down on his lap, excited about some silly thing or the other, he couldn’t really remember. But what he does remember is busting a nut hard, your breasts pushed up prettily against his chest and your butt rubbing against his boner, practically milking his cock as he came in his pants. He’d had a taste of heaven that night, and that was years ago. He’d been sneaking more tastes ever since.

“But never the real thing,” Ari sighs to himself, his thumbs hooking under the waistband of your leggings. “I still haven’t been inside that tight snatch of yours, sweetheart. Isn’t that sad?”

You mumble something incoherent, clearly still half asleep. And Ari’s too horny to care, trying his luck by snapping the waistband of your leggings against your skin, licking his lips when you don’t stir.

“No panties, huh?” He teases you, slipping a hand down your leggings to cup your butt cheek and give it a hefty squeeze. “It’s like you’re begging me to fuck you, sweetheart. I wonder what Steve would think?”

God, Ari hates Steve. Hates him with a blind fury. He hates that the idiot blonde has weaselled his way into your life. Ari turned his back for one second (he was in the NFL, so football took up 90% of his time) and Steve just scooped you up before Ari could talk you out of it. He’s never officially met Steve, but he’s seen him. Seen him holding hands with you. Kissing you. Taking you out on dates. And Ari hates him for it.

Most of all, Ari hates that you let Steve fuck you.

“Oh, you think I don’t know that you’ve been a naughty girl?” Ari coos, chucking your chin and smirking when you pout in your sleep. He strokes your face with one hand, the other one still firmly cupping your bare ass from under your leggings. “My little baby girl, giving herself to another man. Let me tell you, baby, I was furious when I found out. I almost went over to Steve’s apartment and killed him with my bare hands.”

“But you’d hate me if I did that.” Ari sighs, pinching your cheek lightly. He licks his lips, lifting your tank top up till it rests above your chest, before pushing the cups of your bra down to your ribs. Your breasts spill out attractively, and Ari feels a thrill go straight down to his crotch. “I should’ve been the only one who ever got to see you naked. I mean, remember all those showers we took together?”

Ari had persuaded you on multiple occasions to shower with him in order to conserve water. Oh yes, he’d managed to convince you that he was all about saving the environment, and water conservation was number one on his list. And you hadn’t seemed to mind, giggling and washing his hair for him, not noticing how his eyes remained glued to your hot, soapy body, how his fingers itched to grab your hips, bend you over and fuck the living daylights out of you…

“But you just had to let Steve fuck you, didn’t you? Before I even got the chance.” He can’t help but dip his head down, latching his mouth on your bare nipple. God, he’d touched and fondled you over the years, but nothing like this. He tries to keep his excitement at bay but he can’t help but suckle the stiff peak of your nipple, growing hornier than ever as he keeps from suctioning your whole breast into his mouth, his one hand fondling your body while the other slips down to undo his fly and take his dick out.

“Mm, Ari… Is that you?” You murmur, sounding surprisingly eloquent for someone who’s meant to be asleep. But you’re indeed still asleep, softly snoring while Ari continues to have his way with you. He releases your nipple with a pop, gently turning you over so that you’re lying on your stomach, your cheek pressed against the arm rest of the couch.

“Now sweetheart, I’ll show you what it’s like to be with a real man. And I’ll make sure you remember it, even if you do think it’s all just a dream.”

He wastes not in slipping your leggings down to your knees, hungry eyes drinking in your cute, bare ass. He gives it a little smack, hands itching to hit you harder but he knows you’d wake up. And then how would he explain himself? Well, he could probably think of something (“I was just giving you a full-body massage, sweetheart. Your muscles seemed tense.”) You’d definitely believe it, since you were gullible enough to believe all the flimsy lies he’d been telling you for the past few years.

Ari presses a soft kiss to your butt, simultaneously grabbing a handful of your cheek and giving it a lewd jiggle. God, you were so sexy, lying down so nice for him as he violated your body. Well, it wasn’t a violation because he owned you. He’d owned you since the day he met you, and no sorry ass loser by the name of Steve Rogers was going to take you away from him. Steve may have gotten to pop your cherry, but Ari was going to make sure that that never happened again. The only dick you’d remember the feel of would be Ari’s, and that was a promise he was making to himself and to you. (If you were conscious right now, that is).

“You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” Ari breathes, one hand on your hip and the other on his cock as he drags the tip of it up and down your ass. Tracing it over your butt cheek and smearing his precum all over the skin before he grabs and spreads your ass, pressing his dick between your crack and rubbing it up and down. “God, fuck, baby, I can’t believe you’re finally letting me do this.”

He spits, his saliva dripping down your ass crack and gathering in your puckered hole, making him grin. He’d fuck you there one day too – but you’d need to be awake and aware for that. There was no way he was stuffing his big dick inside your virgin ass while you were asleep.

“Ari? Feel kinda wet…” You mumble, trying to turn over but he presses his hand in the small of your back to keep you in place.

“You’re just dreaming, baby.” He tells you, stroking your hair to lull you back to sleep. “It’s raining outside, and so you’re dreaming of rain. That’s why you feel wet, sweetie.”

“Ohhhh, makes sense…” You answer, and Ari can’t believe his luck that you’re still asleep. Or not fully conscious… Same difference.

He spreads your ass cheeks wider, placing a pillow under your hips to prop you up. And then his eyes drink in your glistening pussy. And now he understands why you were mumbling about being feeling wet…

“Naughty little baby pussy, getting all wet just because daddy’s playing with your ass.” Ari scolds, talking to your pussy and not you. He itches to spread your wet folds with his fingers and give you a hard slap right on your bundle of nerves. But he knows the jolt from something like that might wake you up.

You’ve soaked the couch cushion underneath you, and that’s hen Ari knows you’re ready. Well, you’ll never truly be ready for his dick. Ari knows he’s bigger than average – enough girls have told him so. But none of those girls are you. He’s not in love with them like he is with you, all those supermodels and actresses are just placeholders until he settles down with you. Makes you his wife and fucks you good every single day.

“I can’t believe you’re asleep for our first time.” Ari whispers, gliding the tip of his dick up and down your slick folds. “I mean, I think it’s kind of hot, but that’s not the point. You weren’t asleep when you let Steve fuck you, were you?”

A spark of anger courses through his veins just then, and he can’t help but reprimand you by smacking your ass hard. And all you do is whimper in your sleep, his naughty little girl.

“I bet he didn’t even make you cum.” Ari breathes, mounting you and angling your hips upwards. “Not like how I will. And you know why? Because I’m your daddy and I know your body better than anyone.”

Ari still remembers the first time he made you call him daddy. It was during a game of truth or dare, and he’d dared you to call him daddy for the rest of the night. And fuck, you had done it. And his dick had grew harder and harder through the course of the night, as you addressed him as daddy all cutely, pouting those pretty lips of yours and blinking up at him innocently. Fuck, you had no idea how much of an effect you had on him. Even when he was fucking all those models, he’d imagine they were you. He chose the ones that looked like you, and sometimes he’d even call them by your name. They were too fucked out to notice, and it’s not like Ari cared about their feelings.

No, Ari only cared about you.

It feels like heaven as he slowly eases his dick inside you. You’re so wet and warm, your walls hugging his huge dick as if he’s being encased in warm velvet. God, this is everything he’d ever dreamed of, and he doesn’t even care that he isn’t the first one to fuck you. He supposes he could forgive you for that, because you’re his baby and he loves you.

“Nnngh, Ari…” You moan in your sleep before your body goes stiff with alertness, “Wh-What’re you doing?”

“Shhh, baby, go back to sleep. It’s just a dream.” Ari manages to coax you, despite the fact that your little snatch is squeezing his dick so good and he’s not even halfway inside of you but it’s such a goddamn tight fit and he knows that if you were awake right now you’d be crying from discomfort.

“Just a dream?” You murmur, before your body jolts and you let out another moan, “Mmm, Ari, so full…”

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna tear you in half.” Ari promises you, resisting the urge to drive his big dick all the way inside you from the get-go. No, you’re his baby, his princess, his best friend, and the love of his life. He has to be gentle with you – at first, at least. He doesn’t want to split you open and make you bleed. Well, he does, but there’s plenty of time to do that in the future.

He pushes his dick further into you, pinning your body in place as you squirm from the sheer size of him.

“I’m already fucking you better than that asshole boyfriend of yours ever did, huh?”

“Mmhm, yess….”

“Damn straight. I bet his cock ain’t as big as mine, huh?”

“Oh, Ari… Nooo.”

It’s a marvel that you’re asleep yet answering his questions, but he figures you think it’s all just a dirty little dream you’re having. He begins to rock his hips harder, still having trouble stuffing his whole length inside your tight pussy. Not to mention, your walls are hugging him like a vice, and he resists the urge to bust a nut every time he looks down to where you both meet.

“Call me daddy, sweetie. Like how you did that night we played truth or dare.”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, just like that. God, I love how well you take instructions even when you’re asleep. You’re so perfect for me, sweetheart. I need to move you into my house soon. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being an NFL player’s girlfriend? Getting fucked by me every single night till you can’t walk straight ever again. That’s just half of what I plan to do to you.”

Finally, finally, Ari bottoms out inside you, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy as he shudders with relief. You’re moaning sleepily underneath him but all he can focus on is the delicious squeeze of your walls against his thick dick, and how well you’ve taken him.

“Good girl.” Ari praises you, giving your ass another hard squeeze. “Taking your best friend’s dick so well, aren’t you? Or should I say, your daddy’s dick?”

“Daddy…” You mumble as if on cue.

“Damn right.”

Ari fucks you hard. Well, as hard as he can while still ensuring you remain asleep. He keeps a steady pace, unable to bite back his own moans of pleasure at the fact that he’s finally fucking you. And you look so pretty, your soft body underneath him, tensing and clenching around him like it’s your job to take his daddy dick in your little fuckhole.

He grabs a handful of your hair, tugging your head to the side and spitting down on your cheek. Loving how your nose scrunches up all cutely before he reaches out to smear his saliva all over your face, making you look as slutty as possible. Slutty just for him, because after tonight, no other man would ever have you like this. Or have you at all, for that matter.

“Tell me you love my daddy dick.” He repositions himself till he’s lying over you, his body pinning yours down and his chest against your back, his hips pistoning in and out of you at a steady pace. He licks the shell of your ear lewdly before nibbling on your earlobe, “Tell me you love it when daddy fucks you with his big daddy dick.”

“L-Luh your dick!”

“My what?” He slaps your ass, doing it hard even though he knows he’s pushing his luck.

“Love daddy’s dick.” You murmur dutifully, and Ari can’t believe you actually said it. A part of him wonders if it’s all an act and if you’re awake, but one look at your unconscious face, albeit sweaty and breathing hard, confirms you’re still out of it.

“Fuck, baby. Daddy can’t hold on much longer, your baby pussy is just too sweet.” Ari tells you, feeling his thrusts get faster and faster as he chases his release. But before he can even think of what’s happening next, he feels you clench around him hard.

“Nngh! Daddy!” You whimper and your body quivers and tries to toss and turn except he holds you in place, watching in awe as you cum. You squeeze his dick so tight he forgets to breathe momentarily, just watching your sweet cream squirt out of you as if you’re being paid to squirt all over him. He forgets about his own pleasure for a second, hand sneaking down and fingers finding your clit. You jolt in his arms, whimpering and moaning underneath him as he rubs your button, pinching it cruelly before slapping it. Alternating between circling and rubbing, and does he imagine it or are you humping up against his hand as he does it?

You let out the cutest squeak in the world before you cum once more, and it’s enough to tip Ari over the edge too. He grips you so hard, he knows it’ll leave bruises on your skin. But he doesn’t care, his dick explodes as he releases his heavy load inside you, not caring that he isn’t wearing a condom. Not caring that you’re not on the pill (he knows, because he makes it his business to know everything about you). The idea of getting you pregnant doesn’t deter him at all, despite the fact that he’s at the start of his NFL career. That doesn’t matter, being a football player’s pregnant wife is a look that would suit you well.

And the idea of you pregnant with his baby gets Ari hard all over again.

“Look what you’ve done, sweetie.” Ari tsk-tsks, “You’ve got daddy hard again.” He strokes your hair back, wiping the sweat off your face as you breathe hard underneath him, miraculously still asleep. “But don’t worry, I’ll give you a chance to catch your breath before I fuck you again.”

He lays on top of you, breathing hard with his dick still lodged inside you, stroking your hair and cuddling you close. And that’s when your eyes flutter open.

“Ari? What’s going on? Why do I feel so…so…”

“Shhh, baby, it’s just a dream.”

“It is?”

He sits up, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one before taking a long drag, looking down at your spent body that he’s just used and feeling extremely proud of himself. “Of course. Go back to sleep, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

“Mmm,” The claws of sleep already have you closing your eyes again, and you snuggle up closer to him, a look of serenity on your face as if you haven’t just been fucked and filled with his cum. Cigarette between his lips, Ari offers you his thumb, smirking when you immediately encase it between your lips, sucking on it like it’s a lollypop.

“Love you, Ari. Thank you for always taking care of me.”

FUCKEFNVD THE END! NFDKSLN IDEK! FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED PLS TELL ME WHAT OYU THINK AND REBLOG AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF THANK U BYEEE

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader

2K notes · View notes