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xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 month

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Her Emperor, His Destiny

(Alpha!Paul Atreides x Omega!BeneGesserit!Reader)

Summary: Ever since Paul presented no omega has smelled remotely appealing to him. His only reprieve is his dreams that have been filled with nothing but an angelic voice calling out to him, the silhouette of a woman he can’t quite make out, and the sweetest saccharine smell. Wk: 3.2k

Warnings: General omegaverse behaviors, knotting, scenting, marking, breeding, Paul and reader are a soul bound pair, inappropriate use of the voice(by both Paul & Reader) , fluff, kinda love making? Idk this is much softer than my usual smut. I think that’s it, lmk if I missed any!! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: Listen… I know this is left field for me but I made a promise to myself that I would start writing for ME again, and that means writing whatever I want. I saw Dune 2 and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Paul is so alpha coded I feel like it was dropped in my lap.

Paul expected the air to be different, smell different, out in the desert planes of Arkkis. Thus far it’s as he expected. The smell of spice and sand permeate the air to the point that it’s over powering, flooding every single one of your senses. The sand lingers on any inch of exposed skin practically borrowing its way underneath. The smell of spice is so strong that it feels like it’s drowning you, invading your lungs and nostrils, coating them, leaving your insides feeling like sandpaper if you dare breathe it in.

But as he follows Stilgar into the sietch he can’t even be bothered with the glares and sideways glances from the Freman because the further they walk the more his senses are hit with an overwhelmingly saccharine smell. It was like someone was baking the finest pastry mixed with a warm milk bath on a cold winter's day. He had only ever smelled something as sweet as this in his dreams. A scent he’s dreamed of so vividly that it lingered in his nostrils when he woke, but he’s never caught a whiff of it in waking hours until now. There was no doubt in his mind that this is the same scent. The scent that’s haunted him every night since he presented. The scent of his omega, his destined mate.

“I can hear and smell you scenting back there, Paul Atreides… I suggest you get your pheromones under control before we enter.” Stilgar looks back at him with an apprehensive look and Paul apologizes nodding in agreement. “Mating is a very sacred thing to my people. Each pair must be approved and blessed by the high priestess. And all unmated omegas rooms are on the opposite side of the alphas. It is very important that you follow all rules, but especially this one. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand.” He understood the rule but does that mean he was going to follow it? He could certainly try. But that scent was intoxicating and the closer they got to the sietch the stronger it got. He knows given the chance, he’d break that rule in an instant. Consequences be damned.

“Many wait for their soul bound mate and majority of them die alone, never finding the one.” Paul found this odd. Soul bounds are few and far between nowadays and he comes from a place where mating is a transaction, a bargain, something of power and not of love. But as that sugary sweet scent swirls around him, almost making him dizzy, he thinks he might understand wanting to wait for your one. It’s been a few years now since he presented and no omega has ever smelled even remotely appealing to him. They either smelled of nothing or downright revolting, his only reprieve was in his dreams. His dreams filled with that sugary smell and the figure of a woman whose face he could never quite make out.

When Stilgar pulled his mother aside Paul found himself alone in a room filled with stares. Some looked at him in awe, certain he was their long awaited Maud’Dib. Others looked at him with disdain, snickering to each other as they shamelessly pointed his way. But he honestly wasn’t concerned with any of it, because as he sat against the stony wall the scent was stronger than ever. He could almost taste it. His eyes searched the room, craving nothing more than to put a face to the smell that has nearly become his drug. But as he looked across the various faces surrounding him, no one stuck out to him.

But he was certain she was in this room, if not this one than the next. That warm saccharine scent was so close it was as if it were right next to him. That’s when he feels a tap on his shoulder, causing him to jump. Either this person was stealthy or he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear them approaching but when his head whips around to see who it is he feels like his heart is going to burst. He hears the sound of bells ringing, a sound that he’s only heard in the churches back home. There standing over him is the most ethereal woman he’s ever seen, beautiful, perfect, sweet smelling, you.

“Hello, Paul Atreides, I’ve been waiting for you.” You smile down at him sweetly, your eyes filled with adoration. You aren’t dressed like the Fremen, no tans or browns or stillsuit to be found. A black silky dress adorns your form, fitting you perfectly. There’s a sheer midnight colored scarf wrapped around your head and shoulders, framing your face like the greatest work of art. You weren’t Fremen. You were a Bene Gesserit. Or at the very least, one in training.

“I think… I’ve been waiting for you too.” Paul’s voice is trance-like, looking up at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. The sound of the voice you’ve heard so many times in your slumber sending chills down your spine.

“Won’t you come with me? I have so much to tell you.” You look at him eagerly, offering him your danity ringed hand.

“I don’t know if I’m… supposed to…” He wants nothing more than to follow you. He would follow you into one of the suns of Arakkis if you asked him to. But he knew he was already on thin ice here and he feared what would happen to him and his mother if he were to upset anyone further.

“Do not bother with them, they will see the way. They will see what I’ve seen. Soon they will be cheering your name. Come.”

Paul scans the room, all eyes are on the two of you but when he looks back at your reassuring smile it’s like no one else matters, no one else exists. He takes your hand, letting you pull him along through hallways and far away from prying eyes. You drag him into a room that he assumes is yours, shutting the door behind you.

“Have you dreamt of me, Paul?” You sit on the bed and pull the scarf from your head, leaning back on your palms. You look so beautiful and the room is engulfed in your scent. It clings to every inch of the space and radiates off of you in waves.

“Yes… have you dreamt of me?” He takes an apprehensive step toward you, leaving a few feet of distance between the two of you. His green eyes feel as if they’re eating you alive and the scent of him causes slick to rush into your panties.

“Yes, every night since I presented as an omega my dreams have been filled with nothing but you. And more recently I’ve had visions of you in my waking hours. Will you tell me, Paul, about your dreams?” Your voice is as sweet as your scent. The way you’re leaning back on your hands makes the silk of your dress taunt against your breasts, your peaked nipples on display. The sight of you and the unmistakable smell of your slick makes his cock stir in his pants.

“They aren’t very vivid… mostly just flashes of you from behind, the sound of your voice, you were always saying ‘come to me Paul, for I am your destiny’ but your scent? That was so clear to me.” He takes another step forward, reaching a hand out as if he’s going to touch you but he lets it fall to his side, like he thought better of it. “I didn’t know it was possible to have a sense of smell in your dreams, but night after night I was surrounded by your scent as I slept.”

“I could smell you as well and I smelled you the minute you arrived. But my dreams are much more detailed than yours. There is much you do not know.” You approach him, closing the small distance between you. You rest your hands on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Would you like me to tell you about them?”

“I’d love nothing more, omega.” His thumb gently caresses the apple of your cheek before traveling down to push some of your hair off your shoulder. He’s looking down at you expectantly, eagerly waiting for you to speak.

“Your dreams are correct, I am your destiny, and you are mine. I can feel the doubt in your heart, feel that you do not believe in yourself, do not believe that you are the Maud’Dib but you are, sweet Paul. For I have seen it.”

“Tell me? What have you seen?” He searches your eyes for signs of doubt or deceit but all he sees is truth there. Truth and the same adoring look you gave him when he first saw you.

“I’ve seen you learning the ways of the Fremen. I’ve seen you move them, rally them. I’ve seen a battle in which you win. I’ve seen you upon the emperor's throne, ruling over all, with me by your side, our child in my arms.” Your hands travel from his chest to take his face in your soft palms where you rub soothing circles on his temples.

“You saw… all of that?” Paul’s voice sounded exasperated, like what you’ve told him took all the breath from his lungs. He feels like it has. The finality and bluntness in which you speak tell him that your words are true.

“Yes, and more. There will be plenty of time to tell you about it all. But right now? I need you.” Right as the words leave your mouth a gush of slick drips down your legs. The presence of your mate triggering your heat weeks early.

“Tell me what you need, omega.” His voice drops an octave, taking on that deep alpha tone. It makes your heart speed up as another gush of slick drips from your core. You can’t help but think what it would be like if he used The Voice on you. Regularless of how absolutely blasphemous that would be considered.

“I need you, alpha. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up and lock your seed inside me with your knot.” Paul lets out a growl before reaching out, one hand gripping onto your hip to pull you flush against him and the other going to the back of your neck so he could connect his lips with your own.

The kiss starts off rough, eager, and hungry. But after a few moments his lips become tender against your own, his fingers threading through your hair as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You grant him access, immediately intertwining his tongue with your own, moaning at the taste of him.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, my moon. Ask for it and it is yours.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat where he runs the tip of his nose along your scent gland, inhaling deeply. “You wish for me to make love to you? Then I shall.”

Paul pushes the thin straps of your satin dress down your shoulders, kissing along the column of your throat, your collar bones, across your shoulders. You drop your arms so the straps fall the rest of the way down, the dress slipping down your body with them. Leaving you bare before him aside from the thin black material of your panties.

“Absolutely beautiful, angelic.” He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, your jaw, your neck, all the way down until his back knuckles are caressing the tender peaks of your nipples. He slides it across your chest, giving the other the same treatment before taking both of your tits in his hands. He gently squeezes them, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers, eliciting little whimpers from you.

“I heard your mother has been teaching you our ways. How is your training?” Paul raises an eyebrow at you, certainly wondering why you’re asking him about that at a time like this. “I only ask because I was wondering if you might want to practice on me.”

“Do you mean…?” He looks at you with wide eyes and you smirk, biting your lip.

“That’s exactly what I mean. I can feel your apprehension, don’t be afraid, I want this.” You lean into him, smashing his hands that are still on your chest between your bodies as you lean up to you run your nose along his scent gland, darting your tongue out to taste the sweat and spice that coat his skin. He grabs onto your shoulders, pushing you back so he can look in your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt. But as every other time he’s looked in your eyes tonight, he’s seen nothing but honesty there. Nothing but truth.

“Get on the bed on your back. Spread your legs.” Your body immediately reacts, doing exactly as he asks. Paul approaches the foot of the bed, standing between your spread legs. “That’s a good girl.”

His hands grip onto your knees, pushing your legs further apart, leaning down to shove his face between your legs. His nose runs along the soaked material of your panties, deeply inhaling the sugary sweet smell of your slick.

“Alpha, please.”

“You do not have to beg, my moon. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” Paul smirks up at you before lacing his fingers into the band of your panties and ripping them in half. He runs his tongue up your slit, circling it around your sensitive clit. The feeling of his hot wet mouth has you coming undone instantly, your slick gushing all over his chin and down his neck where it drips onto his shirt. He moans at the taste, sweeter than anything that’s ever graced his taste buds. “Yes, that’s my good little omega, give it all to me, let me drink in your sweet nectar.”

He dives back in, shoving his tongue as deep into your pussy as it can go, fucking you with it. His lips come up to wrap around your clit while his fingers circle your dripping entrance. He runs his fingers through your folds before shoving them knuckle deep inside of you.

“Oh fuck! I’m going to cum again, I’m gonna cum.” You move your hips against his face as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot, your legs clamp around his head and your entire body shakes as your high washes over you. Paul pushes himself up from the bed, ridding himself of his clothes before climbing back over to you, situating himself on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. His hard cock is resting against your lower stomach, the tip leaking precum onto your skin.

“I want to taste you too.” You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. You didn’t even care that the ache between your legs wouldn’t be satiated until he was inside you, you needed to taste him.

“Next time. I need to be inside you now.” It comes out a soft whisper, his forehead resting against your own. He reaches between your bodies, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with your entrance. He connects his lips with your own, kissing you passionately as he begins to push inside you. You both moan as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slipping your tongue into his mouth as his thrusts begin to pick up.

“Mmm you feel amazing, my love, my lord, my emperor.” Paul looks into your eyes as he continues to fuck you at a linguid pace, rolling his hips against your own as he pushes himself as deep inside you as possible.

“My moon, my destiny.” He picks up the pace, pushing up on his knees and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your tits jiggle with every thrust, the fucked out love sick gaze that you send his way makes his skin even hotter.

“I want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum. Put a pup in me. So we can fulfill our prophecy.” Paul snakes a hand between the two of you, connecting his thumb with your clit so he can rub circles on it in time with his thrusts.

“Open your mouth.” The sound of him using The Voice makes your walls clench around him, your jaw dropping open at his command. He leans down, letting the spit that had collected in his mouth drip down into your tongue. “Swallow it.”

You swallow with an audible gulp. Your heart warming at the gesture that anywhere else would be considered lewd but here on Arakkis to share one’s sacred spit with another was a grand gesture of love.

“Thank you, my love. You taste better than the finest feast. I cannot wait to know what your cum tastes like.” Paul groans at that, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. His thrusts start to grow sloppy but he refuses to finish before you do.

“Cum for me.” As soon as the words leave his mouth your walls are convulsing around him, sucking him as your slick soaks his cock.

“Mark me, Paul. Sink your teeth into my flesh and bind us together as we are meant to be.” You tug on his arms, pulling his upper half so it’s draped over you, his face buried in your neck. His thrusts become slow and deep again, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you.

“But Stilgar said…” He groans, using every ounce of strength in his body to not just sink his teeth into your soft neck.

“I do not care what Stilgar said. This is bigger than him. Bigger than all of them. Mark me.” His mouth moves before his mind can process what’s happening, his teeth sinking deep into your flesh, breaking the skin. The feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt. Electricity washes through your body, the most world altering orgasm of your life wracks through you, and you feel like your soul leaves you, connecting with Paul’s before returning to your earthly vessel. He pushes his hips flush against yours, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.

“Oh fucking shit.” Paul groans, pulling his mouth from your neck, gliding his tongue over the indents of his teeth. He leans back to look at you, eyes roaming your face. His knot swells inside of you and a look of pain crosses your features before turning into one of ecstasy. Loud moans leave your lips as your final orgasm of the night washes over you. Paul leans down, connecting his lips with yours, kissing you like it’s the last thing he will ever do. Though it was far from it.

“I hope you are not upset with me, Maud’Dib.” You take his face in your hands, running the top of your nose along his cheek.

“I don’t think I could ever be upset with you, my love. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on when you used The Voice on me…” he chuckles, resting his forehead against your own. “I am so happy I finally found you…”

“You have me now, until the day I take my last breath I will belong to you, Paul Atreides. Together, we will accomplish great things.”

#paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you #paul atredies smut #paul atreides x fem!reader #paul atreides fanfic #Paul atreides one shot #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #dune smut #dune fanfic #dune fanfiction

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the-californicationist · 3 months

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The Powder Keg

John Price has just spent the whole afternoon teaching his new recruit how to shoot, and after pining for her all day, he’s about ready to burst, just like a powder keg…

Hot, steaming water sprayed out of the shower head and soaked his burnt, pink skin. When he took in a deep breath, it was humid and heavy, filling his lungs with more moisture than air, leaving him panting and weak from the heat of it. But, he let it suffocate him. He allowed it to obfuscate his senses, to coat his mouth like a gag, to stop him from calling out for her. John Price was so damn close to forgetting himself. He pulled his imaginary muzzle tighter, just in case.

He’d spent the better part of the day in the frigid sands in some Urzikstani Green zone, teaching his new sergeant to shoot his M-16. She was a good marksman, but she was unfamiliar with the desert’s unforgiving winds, and she needed to see how he had set his sights. It shouldn’t have taken so long for him to help her, and if he was before Peter at those gates of pearl and splendor, forced to tell the truth, he had chosen to keep her there. He’d been selfish, preferring to watch her laying there, prone and panting, firing bullet after bullet, all to please her captain. It was the betrayal of the sun that had ruined his gluttony. It had set behind the dunes, forcing John to come indoors and try to wash off all of his sin.

Price had been hard all day. Seeing her plump arse in those canvas pants, looking down at her, concentrating and vulnerable in the sand… it was enough to drive him wild. Now, here he was, gripping his heavy rod like a teenager, squeezing himself tight enough to see stars.

The soap and the suds had all washed away, but the billowing steam had remained. He felt each scalding droplet stinging against his sun-ravaged skin, and he used it like a million little flogs, punishing himself for his thoughts of her. She, in the inky blackness of his mind, had been… everywhere. She was stripping for him, peeling away each article of clothing, each layer of her uniform with calculated effort, revealing herself to him bit by bit. He was watching as her fingers dug into the band of her pants, sliding them down her thick thighs, showing off her tattooed skin, uncovering scars like tiny secrets. Secrets only he could know.

She was grabbing his cock. It was her hand tugging him hard, not his. Her palm slipping over his rosy head, her fingers slipping his foreskin down his shaft, her mouth…

“Unghh…” John leaned against the cold tile, trying to calm himself down. His forehead dug into the white ceramic, rolling across it, trying to find some relief to his torment.

He knew her mouth would feel so sweet. She would plant a delicate little kiss on the top of it, wouldn’t she? She was so kind. She would be so kind to him. An old dog who didn’t deserve it. Not one lick. And yet, she would lick him. Her tongue would lap around his thick base, purring at his size, gassing him up, pumping his ego. Maybe it would be the truth. Either way, he’d buy it; hook, line, and sinker.

“Baby, baby, baby…” He’d name her. She’d be his. His woman. His everything. She’d steal his breath like this impenetrable steam.

The tip of her tongue would find that ridge, the one tucked under his head, the one just below his hole, and she’d suckle at it, just as if she was pulling venom from a snake bite, like his life depended on it. And maybe it did.

Maybe she would be willing to sit across his lips, giving herself to him like a feast to a starving man. She would taste like nectar, and it would coat his tongue, sticky and cloying, painting his palate and filling his nose. He would learn her scent, burying himself into it, finding himself within her taste and her warmth.

Then, mercifully, perhaps she would take him inside of her, deep into her body. He would sink into her, down into her depths. Engulfed. Surrounded. At her mercy. Perhaps she would use those soft muscles to hold him in, to clutch at him like a hungry, suckling mouth.

His hand tightened around his head and the rhythmic milking noises of his self-made pleasure filled the tiny shower like a perpetual echo. He began to fuck his grip, rutting wildly into his palm, coating his callused skin in precome. He was dripping from the shower, but nothing was slipperier than his wet pleasure. It made his cock slide even faster through his huge hand, helping his head burrow itself into his fingers.

John wanted it to be real. He dreamt, with his eyes squeezed shut, of the way her legs would part for him, spread like the petals of a flower, soft and pliant like a little, pink rose. As he jerked his hand across his pulsing head, he imagined what it would be like to rub himself amongst her delicate folds. He almost came from the thought, shuddering, catching himself against the wall, whimpering like he was pressing into a bruise.

A little faster. A little more friction. He grunted, unable to hold his voice inside of him, desperate and feral.

Her eyes, gleaming and beautiful, looking up at him, calling his name.

And that was enough to do it. He came, crying out for her…

“Oh, fuck… baby…”

“Captain?”

His blood went cold, and when he heard her voice, he froze, letting his come leak out of his balls, coating his hands and flooding over his knuckles.

The curtain hissed as she pulled it away from the wall, her eyes traveling all over his body, appraising him and approving. She smiled, a little coy,

“Got room for one more?”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #call of duty

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amaranthineghost · 5 months

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hello!!!

can you do a one shot/ fanfic that Lando has been dating Y/N since they were 15/16, so for a long time, and she just found out she’s pregnant. you can come up with how they would react and how lando would react but i’d love if they were unsure of it in the beginning, but it grew on them as time went by.

thanks!!!!

| OUR WORLD IN YOUR HANDS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: they hadn't planned for pregnancy, but it changed their life.

ꕥ authors note: enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would honestly. tried to make it so she was more unsure than he was and in the end, I liked it. working on incorporating more dialogue in the future because it is definitely not my strong suit. I'll also alternate between requests and my own ideas so if you requested something, keep it in mind <3

ꕥ warnings: mentions of alcohol, sex, barely mentions thoughts of abortion

TWO RED LINES. her heart had skipped a beat, more like several as she stared at the dark red line and a faded pink one next to it. she couldn't believe her eyes. it couldn't be possible, it repeated in her mind.

but it obviously was. they hadn't been very careful, they're young and dumb and in love. two people so deeply in love that they couldn't care less. at least she thought they did at the time.

staring at the test in front of her shook her whole world, an entirely different branch of her life she'd never expect to take this soon. it was right in front of her.

despite being together for a year or two shy of a decade, it felt too soon. they were still young, had plenty of parties lined up in the near future. plenty of drunken nights running through the streets of monaco barefooted, hands intertwined as the world was focused on them. how they'd escape to the farthest rooftop, drunken makeouts leading to more as they came together under the stars.

they still had time. time to be what they'd missed as teenagers, to make memories. they had time to spend countless nights, wrapped in each other's arms under cold skies on balconies across countries, discussing their future. when they'd get married, where they'd like to live, if they ever left monaco which seemed unlikely, the places they've yet to see, how many kids they'll have and their names.

time for reckless driving through the streets of monaco with the wind crashing against them, hands raised as they cheered. he always drove to the most beautiful sight in the city, but always claimed it would never come close to the beauty she possessed.

time for runs across the beach in tiny bikinis and swim trunks as they raced on the sand. his arms capturing her waist as he tossed her around, feeling the vibrations of her laughter and screams against his skin. a feeling he'd forever cherish.

it all disappeared with a single faded line. everything she knew about their future collapsed with the test barely bigger than the length of her hand. it would affect everything.

it was conflicting. becoming a mother was all she ever dreamed and talked about, when she became older. she'd mention to her curly-haired boyfriend countless times of her dreams of having the mini versions of him running around the house they shared. the longing to see his eyes and curly hair with features of her own on another warm body. their child.

but she wasn't ready. in her mid-twenties, with years of life left to live child-free. tens of grand prix's to attend in support of her mclaren lover, watching 10 feet away from his car. nights to catch up on hours of sleep she lacked from keeping up with lando's lifestyle.

having a kid swept it all off the table. no more late night dalliances, or getting so drunk to the point where lando would have to pull over the car to hold back her hair as she threw up in the bushes.

no more parties at ungodly hours of the night, watching drunk lando stumble his way to the dj booth, giggling over a glass of alcohol at his actions.

no more sleep. she knew she'd be woken up numerous times in the night from the cries of her child, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to give up sleep yet.

and she wasn't sure lando wanted to give up formula one either. obviously, a balance between the two worlds is possible, but she knew he would want to be there with her, and she didn't know if he could.

it scared her. the thought of this changing the dynamic of their relationship on levels she couldn't even begin to think of. she's seen countless videos of how having a child completely changed the way couples worked, good and bad, and she didn't want that fifty-fifty.

she'd sat staring at the test between the tips of her fingers for a solid twenty minutes before she heard a patterned knock she grew familiar with from her beloved boyfriend.

the door muffled his voice just slightly, "darling, you 'right in there?" his hand wrapped around the now cold door handle and twisted it, but it failed to turn as it pressed into his palm.

it was unusual for her to lock the door, she knew he would question it. and she knew she couldn't use the excuse of that she's changing or showering because lando simply didn't care whenever she was. he'd sit and keep her company till she was done with whatever she was doing because it was often what they did. sit in silence, enjoying the presence of one another.

"yeah, I'm fine!" she called out to him in a rushed tone, flinching enough that she nearly dropped the test. she watched as the door knob shook, shoving the stick into the bottom of the trash temporarily. she'd remember to remove it eventually.

she turned on the sink as she hid the box of tests in the depths of the cabinet under the sink. looking at herself in the mirror, she'd wipe away the tears that built in her eyes. she didn't want him to notice, but like always he would.

from the locked door to the second she opened it, he'd watch it. she'd see him leaning on the wall just outside the door, patiently waiting for her to come out to him. he wouldn't question it, he trusted that she would eventually come around to tell him. she always did.

with the frequent trips to the bathroom and the slimmed selection of foods in the fridge, he'd suspect something, but he wouldn't know for sure. not without her word.

because for the time being, it was a secret she kept to herself, as much as she despised secrets. she felt like she was guilty to be hiding something from the person she trusted most in the world.

times when she thought the room was empty, she'd be pacing long ways back and forth with her arms crossed and her face solid. he'd watched her from the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest, mirroring her position slightly.

times when she'd drop whatever she was doing to rush into the bathroom and spill her guts into the toilet as he held her hair and ran his fingers along the nape of her neck. she claimed it was a stomach bug, but he knew better. he also knew better than to question her words so he said nothing, but made a multitude of soups for her to sip on, taking notice of her now acute taste.

times when she'd cry over the tiniest of things, comforting her in his arms while she sobbed against the fabric of his very worn hoodie that happened to be her favorite.

it wasn't a great shock when she first told him. stuttering over her words as she fumbled with the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt that went well past her fingertips, he could see tears brimming her eyes with her heightened sensitivity.

so when she muttered the words, "i'm pregnant," his world stopped, restarted, reloaded and stopped again when he finally processed the words. though he knew he could've expected it, hearing the confirmation leave her lips left his world tipped sideways.

but he wanted to hear it again, needed to, words breathlessly escaping his lips, "what, love?" he heard her the first time, but he wanted to hear it again. and again and again.

she choked on her words, sobbing out again, "I'm pregnant, lan," he pulled her into his chest, his hand finding it's way to the side of her head as he cradled her, pressing his lips against her hair.

as they swayed, it finally dawned on him, muttering unsure and excitedly against her head, "I'm going to be a dad?" his breathing deepened, his tongue gliding across his lips, then biting at the sensitive flesh. he felt his heart hammer in his chest, nearly comparing to when he first asked the girl out all those years ago. he reminisced the time when the biggest deal he could think of was rejection. now the girl he had crushed on when he was just a teenager just told him she's pregnant. with his kid.

part of him couldn't be happier, they had spent countless nights in bed, lying on their sides facing one another with stupid grins on their faces as they pondered their future together. whatever they wanted, it always had the other in their thoughts and plans.

this was just their plans manifesting faster than they might've hoped, and sure, he wasn't totally certain that it was the right timing after all. but this was their dream, and maybe they just needed time.

time to accept how greatly their life would be affected. he thought about how he'd have to leave her for days, weeks for his career, the few outlying times when she'd travel with him. he knew that would change, leaving her home with a new life to take care of besides her own. he hated the thought of leaving her.

they needed time to think, whether it was together or just by themselves. they needed to figure out how they'd make it through, if they could. which was a question in itself.

they needed to talk because part of her didn't think he would be so accepting of the change life threw them, permanently altering their course of life and the years to follow.

deep inside, they're scared. they knew they would've been, planned or not. it didn't make it any easier. but when he asked such a simple question, it lifted a massive weight that had been carrying on her shoulders. part of her knew he'd always be so accepting. everything is an experience after all.

with every month passed, every growth of the life within her body, he'd mention. he was the nerdy type to compare the size of the baby with fruit. he'd goggle each week with every new development she'd create. it shook his mind to even comprehend. she could make bones, organs and the tiniest lashes of their soon-to-be kid all within the confines of her body. to him, it was sacred.

and of course, he'd tell just about everyone from every team. all the drivers, mechanics, pit crew, team principals, the list goes on and so does his rants about her.

countless photos of appreciation for her on his social media, after all she was carrying his child and he was ecstatic. he'd spent every waking moment he could with her, his hands always somewhere on her, prodominantly on her growing stomach.

when he felt the first kick, he pulled his hand away sharply, looking at her with a dropped jaw and wide eyes, "it kicked me!" he'd exclaim and she slapped his shoulder, scolding him.

"don't call the baby an 'it!'"

"what else am I supposed to call it?" again, earning another slap to his bicep, and he'd look at her with a growing confused look.

"stop slapping me!" he held up his arms in defense as she scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest. she pursed her lips before sighing as he'd replace his hand on her stomach.

"babe, I don't think this baby likes me," he looked between his hand and her eyes, feeling the movement under his palm. it was a weird sensation, something he'd never expect to feel so soon, or at all.

all she could do was laugh at the stupid expression across his face as he looked back and forth in bewilderment. the warmth from his hand, and the small calluses sent goosebumps across her skin. it incited a smirk to take place on his face, but she slapped it off. he'd expect to feel more of those as the months went by, especially with all the sly comments she'd hear slip past his lips.

with every ultrasound appointment, he'd be there. he'd make sure of it, no matter where he was or what he was doing. she also scheduled them in accordance to his race and where in the world it took place.

every time, his eyes would be locked on the screen that projected his child, a part of him in another life form. a smile always creeping into his face as he held her cold hand. more often than not, he'd get curious and try to become the technician, stealing the equipment out of the professional's hand. his girlfriend would scold him like he was some sort of dog. in response he'd groan, rolling his eyes at her.

he'd still try though, and the technician laughed it off. he'd make comments to her in reassurance, "babe, i've got this," he'd tell him as his hand with the wand came closer to her stomach.

"where's your degree then?" she snapped back, giggling at his sudden pause before he shrugged, waving it off his other hand.

" 's at home."

when the time finally came to birth their new life into the world, god did lando panic. everything he had prepared himself with went out the window when she'd mutter the words he'd been waiting to hear.

"lando," she mumbled as she sat on their couch, turning to him with wide eyes, "I think it's time." her sleeve-covered hands were at her face as she bit nervously on her nails.

he'd stutter over his words, hands in his hair, "you're joking." he'd say repeatedly as he rushed around the apartment, grabbing things. he was the type to grab everything and forget her still on the couch.

she'd call him on her phone when she sees him in his car from the window, through the pain, she laughed at him, "forget something, norris?"

"no, darling, I've got everything-" she'd see his movement pause, his hand returning to his hair, "fuck!"

when he'd come back to help her, she was nearly collapsed with laughter despite the pain she felt through her body.

"stop laughing at me!" he whined but he was laughing with her. nonetheless, they'd get to the car.

she was in labor for hours, crunching on ice chips that he'd fed her carefully. he'd massage her shoulders, hold her hand when contractions got particularly unbearable. he knew not to mumble bullshit words of encouragement, a word of advice from his mum, advice he'd gladly listen to.

instead he'd show her he was there by doing everything she asked until it was time to actually deliver their child they've been waiting 9 months to finally meet.

with a pale face, lando would comment, "I think one kid is fine after all." she'd roll her eyes at his words as she held their daughter in her arms, already seeing themselves in her. she was exhausted and he knew. he put her hair up, cooing words of appreciation to her now that all was done. he took care of her.

he'd remember call his mum later to tell her thank you.

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rafesslxt · 3 months

Note

please please please do some hardcore fluff! i just want to see Theo really showing his love language (physical touch) like randomly touching y/n and doing anything to be close to her! kind of “i wish i could be in your skin” kind of thing, if you can!

touch starved | Theodore Nott

note: hi, thank u so much for my first request! I wrote a little bit with my ideas too, hope you still like it <3

warnings: some cursing, angst, arguing, hufflepuff!reader, me trying to write hardcore fluff, lmk if there are more

note: request are OPEN! English is not my first language

Theo was always interested in being as close to you as he could. He would love to just crawl under your skin if that was somehow possible. He loves to touch you, no matter where you are or who’s around you two.

But there were moments when this also brought its difficulties.

"Now, everything you need for the potion is at the front, take the ingredients you think would be suitable and get started." Professor Slughorn said.

Theo stood up like the good boyfriend he is and got all the Ingredients that he and y/n needed. "Here principessa, got everything we need." "Thanks Theo.“ You gave him a small kiss on his left cheek and started with the potion right in front of you.

Your boyfriend stood as close to you as possible, sometimes even right behind you. He wrapped his arms around you and stirred the kettle. He knew that other students gave him looks sometimes, but he didn't care. He just had to be near you and touch you in some way. He couldn't help it, you're like a drug to him that he can't get enough of.

Whether it was your soft skin, which smelled of vanilla from your bodylotion or your long shiny hair that smelled of peaches and was so easy to wrap around his fingers.

Your own scent drove him crazy the most. When you came fresh out of the shower, with nothing on you. Sometimes it took hours before you could finally get dressed and Theo would take his hands off you.

But he especially loves it when you play with his hair while you're both lying on the sofa in the Slytherin common room. The light tugging on individual strands made him moan softly and drove him crazy. Again, doesn‘t matter If you‘re alone or with your friends beside you. They all knew that Theo was completly smitten for you.

He also liked it when you gave him a massage after training Quidditch. "Yeah, right there baby, that‘s it.“ He groaned. He needed this. Your touch, your skin on his skin, your hands on his muscles.

" Theo? You there ? I think it is ready, you can stop stirring." He woke up from his daydreams and looked down at himself. You were already looking up at him, chin resting on his chest. " Yeah, sorry." He put the trowel aside to stir and put both hands on your hips now. His lips just touching yours slighty as he whispered " You're beautiful." " Thank you." She smiled at him and placed both her hands on his abs above his shirt now.

His head lowered next to your ear " I need to feel you amore. Need to feel your skin on mine." He whined.

You giggled and looked around embarrassed. " Teddy, we're in the middle of class, you'll have to be patient." " Ugh... I fucking hate school."

That was a week ago now.

It had been a week since he had been able to touch you. To say Theo was on the edge was an understatement.

" Where's your other half Nott?" Blaise, who took every chance to gossip, asked. " What do you care?" Theo bit back, knowing that he didn't ask because he cared. "Oh just so, I'm just surprised as you were inseparable before and now you're hardly ever seen together. Trouble in paradise?" He provoked.

Mattheo had to hold Theo back so that the situation didn't escalate completely, but truth be told, Theo was just as worried. For different reasons to Blaise, but he wasn't entirely wrong. It was as if you were slipping out of his hands like sand. It was the weekend now and just like every other weekend before, you and the boys were always out together as a group in Hogsmeade.

What Theo didn't know, however, was that you weren't ignoring him on purpose, let alone ignoring him at all. You just had a lot on your plate, helping other students with their lessons, being a assistant for some teachers with extra work, doing your own homework and being Head Girl of your house. You had so much on your plate that you didn't even realize Theo was feeling like this.

"Where's y/n?" Mattheo asked his best friend a little more quietly so that the conversation remained private. " She's helping some first years with their studies and finding their way around Hogwarts now that the new year has started. "

Just as your boyfriend was about to hit his head down on the table, a soft voice sounded next to him " Hey baby, why are you hanging your head like that?" " Principessa?" His head shot up and his face began to beam with joy. " Come here sit with me." He scooted a little closer to Mattheo to give you more room. A few Slytherins gave you looks because you were sitting with them as a Hufflepuff, but you were already used to that.

You grabbed something small to eat and chatted with the rest of the table. You immediately feel Theo scoot close to you and put his hand on your leg. You smile a little and look at him. " What's wrong?" " I missed you." He whispered against your head, smelling your hair for the first time in a week. " When are you free again?" He asked and reached for your hand, but you stood up again at the same moment.

" I have to go, but I'll see you later, yes? " You quickly gave him a kiss and grabbed some more fruit. " What? But you haven't even eaten properly? Where are you going?" " Helping first graders, you know that." You smile and disappear from the Great Hall just as quickly as you came.

" Ugh…" Now he dropped his head on the table.

The day passed and it was time to go to Hogsmeade. "Hey man, maybe she's already there or she'll be coming after, don't worry." Mattheo tried to reassure his friend.

" It pisses me off. I'm her boyfriend! I should be more important than some stupid first years." Theo paced up and down the common room. " Yo, can we go?" Draco asked, coming out of his room. " Go ahead, I'll catch up with you." Determined, Theo got up and walked in the direction of the Great Hall first. Maybe you were hungry and came back. As he searched half the school for you, all sorts of thoughts and worries ran through his head.

What if you deliberately seek out so many tasks to keep your distance from him? What if your relationship is coming to an end? No, that couldn't be. He's the perfect boyfriend. He always listens to you, is always there for you, supports you in all your decisions, is attentive, loves spending time with you, even if it wasn't that important to you, but he also showered you with gifts.

Where could you be? He thought until a light bulb came on above his head. The library, of course. He ran up the many stairs until he stood in front of the library. Nervously, he looked for you. What happens if he asks you about it? What should he do if she says that she no longer wants to be in a relationship with him?

Although all the girls in Hogwarts were after him and he's extremely self-confident, he only had eyes for you and you were probably the only person in the world who could make him feel that way.

His heart skipped a beat when he discovered you with three first years. He cleared his throat quietly so as not to startle you. "Teddy? What are you doing here?" y/n whispered. You're the only one who's ever been allowed to call him that. The boys sometimes made fun of him, but were very quiet as soon as he threatened them.

" Can we talk for a moment? It's important." He urged, looking between her and the students. "You keep working on the task I gave you, okay? I'll be right back." The little ones nodded obediently and continued to work diligently.

You walked with Theo a few shelves to the back where you could talk undisturbed. "Is everything all right? Did something happened?" You asked worriedly. "Don't you want to be with me anymore?" He asked directly. " What? What are you talking about?" Confused and a little disappointed, she looked at her boyfriend. " You're not here all week y/n, no matter when we see each other, I have the feeling that you're taking every opportunity not to be with me. I - I'm scared for us. I miss you, damn I can't be without you around." He confessed.

"Teddy, that's absurd. I just want to help! You know I need good grades for my degree and it's easier to get them that way. I would never want to hurt you." She took a few steps towards him. "But you do! We are a couple! Shouldn't we be together more? I miss you so much, it's like my air is gone to breathe. I - I love you, y/n. Fuck I love you so much!"

Although they were together, neither of you had ever said the L word before. " You- You do?" " Of course! Why else would I be with you? Why else am I looking for you all over the school? Why don't you understand me?" Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair, completely enraged. " Theo I l - " " No you know what ? Forget it. It was stupid to come here, don't let me bother you. " " But - " but he was already out the door. " - I love you too." You whispered as he disappeared from the library.

On the way out, he realized what he had said. Fuck, wasn't he wrong after all? He knows how important your future and grades are to you. The more steps he took towards Hogsmeade, the more nauseous he felt. For the first time he told you that he loves you and then left you like that? Merlin, he has to straighten that out.

When he arrived in Hogsmeade, he bought a large quantity of your favorite flowers and lots of roses, chocolate and a present.

He was walking through the alleyways when the boys came towards him, Mattheo at the front. "Hey man, we've already seen you - what's wrong with you? Didn't go so well huh?" Theo shook his head. " No, not a bit, to be honest, I completely messed it up."

" Good luck then, don't mess it up again. She's pretty cool for a Hufflepuff," Mattheo grinned.

Back at Hogwarts, Theo already had a plan but he needed help. "Jane! Hey, I need your help, please." He looked at your best friend, who only returned his look in confusion. "What do you want, Nott?" She wasn't the biggest fan of his, but respected y/n's decision and trust in him. " I know it sounds crazy, but you have to let me into your common room." Jane started to laugh out loud " What? Have you gone crazy? In case you haven't noticed, you're a Slytherin."

" Jane please, I messed up and I need to apologize to her. I have something planned for her ." He pointed to the flowers and presents in his hand. "And you have to do this in her room?" She asked with a sigh. "Please." He swallowed all his pride and tried to be as convincing as possible.

Annoyed, your best friend exhaled and shook her head. "Okay, but let's keep this between us and for the record, I'm only doing this for y/n!" If Theo wasn't himself, he would have loved to squeeze her for joy. "Thank you! Can you give this to y/n? It says that she should meet me in her room." She took the note and pocketed it.

"Then come on, I don't have all day." She led him to the entrance of the Hufflepuff. " You never tell anyone about this, understand?" He nodded and continued to follow her. They walked through the same corridor as the school kitchen was. Suddenly, Theo stood in front of huge barrels, looking questioningly at them

Jane tapped on a barrel that was stacked between two others. She did it in a certain rhythm. Suddenly, the path to the common room opened up. Theo had never seen it before, let alone heard of it. " Through there, up and you're inside. Her room is the tunnel on the far left." " Thanks again. " He walked through the middle barrel and then up a short steep path through an earthy corridor, which brought him to the common room. The room was empty, probably everyone was out in Hogsmeade or somewhere in the castle for the weekend. As Jane had told him, he went through the small underground tunnel on the far left. The doors were round and looked like the lids of barrels.

Not quite his taste, but it all looked very cozy and sunny. (JKR had probably once described it that way.)

Inside y/n's room, Theo started putting up his favorite flowers and scattering rose petals around the room. He placed chocolate on the bed and kept the present in his pocket. It wasn't long before he heard the door open.

"Theo? What are you doing here?" You spoke a little more quietly, afraid that someone would notice that he was here. "Y/n please listen, I'm incredibly sorry. I shouldn't have hit on you like that, I know how important your grades are to you and I should have known that you wouldn't ignore me on porpose. And I'm also sorry that I just left like that after I said I love you. "

" Oh Teddy… " You walked up to him and hugged him tightly. He threw his arms around her and hugged her as tight as he could. " Is it true what you said?" " What do you mean?" " That you love me? " He looked down and took her face in both hands. " Of course, I love you amore. You're all that matters to me. That's why I reacted the way I did. I was… desperate and so… fucking touch starved. " I love you too, Teddy. " you told him with a smile on her face, looking into his eyes.

" Really?" He couldn't have been happier. " And all this wasn't even necessary." She pointed to the rose petals and chocolate. "Because I'm sorry too, I really should have thought more about us. Jane's going to help me tutor the children from now on. That way I have more time for us."

" I'm so glad everything is okay." He whispered against your forehead. " Me too." He took your chin between his fingers and lifted your head. " You're driving me crazy, dolcezza."

His lips brushed yours just softly at first, until you couldn't wait any longer and filled the gap between you two. The kiss was gentle but passionate. Theo grabbed both of your thighs and lifted you up, whereupon you wrapped both legs around him.

He sat down on the bed behind him, with you on his lap. You started giggling as he began kissing your neck. " Teddy… I don't know when Jane is coming back." " I want you so so so so bad… " " I know, but now is not the right time. I'm sorry… " He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled gently. " It's okay, don't worry about it. Besides, I have something for you. " He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cute little package with a bow. " Here baby, open it. " " Theo… you didn't have to do that, really. "

"Open it, trust me you'll love it." You carefully open the bow and flip open the small box. You accelerate quickly. " Oh Merlin, it's beautiful Theo. " With tears in your eyes, you took the golden necklace out of the box. On it hung the letter T which was set with small individual diamonds. "Will you put it on me?"

He took the necklace from your hand and pulled your hair to one side. He carefully put it around your neck and then put your hair back over your shoulders. "Thank you Teddy, I love it." Full of love, you kissed him, causing him to fall backwards onto the mattress. He briefly parted from your lips and looked down at your decollete, where his letter T now lays. " Fuck, now I want you even more than before. " You had to start giggling again. " Trust me Teddy, the right moment will come. " you said and sealed your words with a kiss.

Hope u enjoyed! Part 2 ?? Let me know ;)

my master list

xoxo Sarah

#theodore nott fluff #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott smut #slytherin smut #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #slytherin imagine

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drudyslut · 3 months

Text

— summary: you and jj have some late night fun on the beach.

— warnings: smut! 18+ soft!jj, public sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, squirting, creampie, overstimulation, lots of praise, unprotected sex.

— note: this. gif… it has me feral as fuck. also, sex on the beach just screams jj vibes and i need it so badly :((

❥ sex on the beach — j.m

“jj-” you try and protest, but his lips are on yours again, silencing your pleas to ‘just go home’ and continue this.

a large hand runs up your side and to your shoulder, slowly pushing your back into the sand while his other hand is toying with the strings of your bikini bottoms.

his lips on yours have your brain short circuiting, almost forgetting that you’re in public, but the sound of the ocean waves crashing into the shore snap you back into reality.

you firmly press your palm to his chest, pushing him back, his lips red and swollen as he gives you a soft look, “what’s wrong baby?”

“i- shouldn’t we go home, j? i mean.. anyone can see us out here..”

jj sits himself on his knees, glancing around the dark, empty beach before his eyes find yours once more, “no one will see us princess, promise. this’ll be fun, c’mon..”

you bring your bottom lip between your teeth, glancing around the beach as well— not a soul in sight besides you and jj. this could be fun, you didn’t know why you were so worried, jj would never put you in a bad situation either.

you sigh, “you’re right, it’ll be fun. ‘m sorry, i just get nervous… we’ve never had sex in public before..”

“‘s okay sweet girl, but don’t worry, just clear your mind, let me help you forget your worries, yeah?”

before you can even mutter out a response jj has his mouth on yours again, leaving soft, slow kisses. a small moan falls from your lips when he works his way down your jaw and onto your neck, his swollen lips wrapping around the sensitive skin to suck in a deep, purple bruise.

“j, please”

he pulls his lips from your neck, sitting on his knees again and gazing down at you, “please what baby? tell me what you need”

you prop yourself up on your elbows, big doe eyes burning into his face, “need to feel you.. please”

jj chuckles softly, his head rolling to the side in amusement.

“mhm, gonna need to be more specific baby. don’t be shy”

“your mouth, your cock. i need all of it j”

a wide grin takes over his face, the moonlight illuminating his beautiful features, making his bright blue eyes sparkle, “s’all you needed to say baby”

he places his hands on your thighs, running his fingertips up and down the length of your smooth skin before he finds the strings that tied your bikini bottoms together. he slowly pulls at the strings, the perfectly tied knots on either side of your hips coming loose, bikini bottoms now barely covering your arousal slick cunt.

“lift up baby” jj says softly, and you obey, lifting your ass up slightly so he could pull the flimsy fabric from under you.

he wastes no time spreading your legs apart and dropping onto his stomach. a shudder runs down your spine when you feel his hot breath against your sopping core.

your hands fly into his hair, tugging softly at his messy blond locks, your hips bucking forward, chasing the friction you desperately craved.

jj glances up at you from between your legs, his tongue running across his bottom lip before he dips his head down, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit. you throw your head back into the sand, eyes squeezed shut as your fingertips dug further into his hair.

he repeats his actions a few more times before he finally wraps his plump lips around your clit, sucking at it softly. he releases your clit from his mouth with a soft pop, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud a few times, pulling soft whines from your lips.

jj begins prodding at your entrance with his tongue, pushing it in slowly before quickly pulling it back out. you squirm beneath him, clenching around air as you try and chase your high.

he drags his tongue through your slick, lips sucking at your puffy clit as he takes two of his fingers and begins sliding them through your folds. he slowly pushes his middle finger inside you, making you clamp down around the digit tightly as he slowly and sensually thrusts his finger before adding another.

your fingers tug at his hair, pushing his face further into your cunt as your orgasm begins to grow closer. you’re a whimpering mess, soft, sweet moans emitting from you, “j- fuck— ‘m so close, j!”

he quickens his fingers, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the waves crashing behind you filling the silent air. you feel the band tighten, your toes curling into the sand beneath you, hips rolling to meet each thrust of jj’s fingers, his mouth never letting up its assault on your sensitive clit.

the band finally snaps, your arms falling limp by your sides, fingers grasping onto the sand for dear life as your legs shake, your orgasm gushing from you and soaking jj’s face.

he helps you ride out you your high, not once faltering the movements of his fingers or the harsh sucking on your clit. you try and squeeze your legs closed, but jj’s strong hand finds your thigh, pushing it back to the side and firmly pressing it into the ground.

you begin to loudly whine, overstimulated and exhausted, “jj, please! s’too much!”

jj hums against your cunt, the vibrations making your hips buck forward, tears pricking at your eyes as you tried to weakly push him back. it was useless to try and push him away, he was much stronger than you, and the grip he had on your thigh was keeping your legs spread wide for him. his fingers begin to slow in pace, curving slightly as he begins hitting at your gspot again, trying to pull another orgasm from you.

you feel your belly tightening again, another orgasm ready to burst free, causing tears to uncontrollably stream down your face.

“ah ah, jj— shit!” you moan loudly, head pressed firmly into the ground, lip brought harshly between your teeth as your second orgasm quickly rushes from you.

jj pulls his head from between your legs, his face covered in your arousal. he smirks down at your limp body, his eyes intently watching as your chest heaves up and down, legs still shaking as you try and bring them together.

he crawls on top of you, his arms on either side of your body. he dips his head down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss and slipping his tongue inside your mouth, letting you taste yourself.

“did so good f’me baby, so good. you feel okay sweetheart?”

you weakly mutter out a “mhm”, too exhausted to try and form a full sentence.

jj nods his head, lowering his body onto yours. your eyes fly open when you feel his hard on pressing against your bare cunt through his swim trunks, “got one more in ya pretty girl? jus’ one more, and then i’ll take you home and take care of ya, sound good?”

you snake your arms around his waist, pushing his front further into you, a soft whine falling from your lips when his hard cock pressed against your overly sensitive clit, “wanna feel you, j. need to feel you”

jj smiles excitedly, pushing himself up and onto his feet. you watch him in awe as he strips himself of his swim trunks, his long, thick cock springing free and making saliva pool in your mouth. you’d always found jj attractive, obviously he was your boyfriend, but something about the way the moonlight was shining down on him, illuminating his beautiful body, made him look even more deliciously beautiful.

he drops himself to his knees, his hands finding the sand as he puts himself in push up position. he crawls his way toward you slowly, caging your body into the ground, his lips on yours in an instant.

you moan into his mouth, a smirk playing at his lips from how desperate you were for him, “gonna make you feel real good baby”

he takes one hand, grasping his cock and slowly pumping himself a few times before he runs his swollen head through your slick folds. a soft gasp falls past your lips when he slowly pushes the head in, quickly pulling it back out and repeating his actions a few times.

you’re about to complain, beg him to fuck you, but your words die, a loud shout of his name emitting from you when he sinks himself inside of you without warning, filling you to the hilt.

“oh shit! jj!”

he slowly rolls his hips into yours, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting at your sweet spot with each push and pull. your hands fly around his neck, fingernails digging into his shoulders and leaving half crescent moons on his skin. you scratch your nails down his back, the sounds of your loud moans drowning out the waves crashing into the shore.

still sensitive from the last two orgasms jj had awarded you, you could already feel your third brewing, your velvety inner walls clenching tightly around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

“gonna cum f’me already princess? we jus’ barely started” jj mocked teasingly.

he hisses when your fingernails dig further into his back, breaking the skin, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum if you keep squeezin’ on me so tight, want me to cum inside you sweet girl?”

you manage to breathe out an “mhm”, your eyes squeezed shut as you focus on your impending orgasm.

jj tuts, stilling his hips, his dick buried deep inside you as he gazes down at you, “words baby, want my cum inside this pretty lil’ pussy, hmm?”

a whimper leaves your lips at his lack of movement, “yes, p-please j. want your cum inside”

he smiles, his hips snapping harshly into yours once more, “atta girl, s’all i needed to hear”

low and raspy groans fill your ears, jj’s thrusts growing sloppier letting you know his own orgasm was nearing. he snakes his hands under your waist, large, calloused hands cupping at your ass before he quickly flips the two of you, putting you on top.

you throw your head back, arms flying behind you to steady yourself as you rolled your hips around his cock, giving him a perfect view of where the two of you connected.

“shit, your pussy looks so good with my cock buried inside it, could stay like this forever, shit!”

jj lays one hand behind his head, watching intently as you continued to slowly fuck yourself onto his cock. his free hand makes its way to your clit, rubbing sloppy circles around your overly sensitive bud.

strings of curses and groans fall from you and jj, your orgasms threatening to burst from you. jj removes his fingers from your clit, wrapping it around your waist and pulling you forward, your head buried in the crook of his neck as he begins to harshly fuck up into you.

“jj! j- shit, ‘m cumming j!”

“go on baby, ‘m right behind you!”

a few more harsh snaps of his hips has you tumbling over the edge, your third orgasm gushing from you and soaking jj’s cock and pelvis.

you feel his cock twitch inside you, a string of “fucks” falling past his lips as the hot, white ropes of his cum spill inside you.

he thrusts his cum deep into your cunt, his hand falling from your waist and to his sides as he tried to steady his breathing.

you roll yourself off of him, laying in the sand beside his sweaty, worn out body, “thank you, that was fun” you say sweetly, placing a soft kiss to his cheek.

rolls his head to the side, “told ya, you can bet your sweet ass we’re doing this more often”

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futureman · 7 months

Text

body language

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel shows up at your place in the middle of the night with a camcorder and an idea

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, soft-dom!joel, soft!joel, sex tape, established relationship, smut, unprotected piv, size kink, praise kink, overstimulation, fingering, rough sex, mild camera anxiety, moodboard for aesthetics only

word count: 7.4k

“Joel? It’s two o’clock in the morning, you alright?”

He never calls this late. He’s never even up this late. Joel’s a creature of habit—asleep by midnight and up, bright and early, at seven. Yet, it’s still his name lighting up your phone and illuminating the pitch black of your bedroom, waking you out of a near-dead sleep.

It takes him a moment to reply and, for a second, you think maybe he’s been out drinking with his contractor buddies. But that’s not like him, especially on a weeknight.

When his voice finally filters through the speaker, he sounds…off. His deep drawl is lower than usual, thick with something syrupy and heady that you’d probably be able to place if you weren’t teetering on the cusp of consciousness.

“Be better if I was there with ya.”

Oh.

Now, you’re awake. The barely concealed intention in his tone and words is unmistakable, and now you know exactly why he’s calling you at two in the morning on a weeknight. Because he hasn’t seen you in weeks, and he’s horny.

Heat licks at the base of your spine, and you get it. It's been a while since he’s been in your bed, and you're horny, too. You lean over to retrieve your phone from the nightstand, and your pilling flannel sheets slip down to your bare thighs, exposing your feverish skin to the brisk autumn air drifting in through a cracked window. It feels like the sweetest relief—you usually run hot when you sleep, but it’s nothing like this.

Switching the call off speaker, you unconsciously lean into the small screen as if it were him. A photo of Joel, soaked and covered in sand at the beach last year, flashes up at you and your lips brush against it as you murmur into the mic.

"If you wanted it bad enough, then you would be," you tease, your voice sultry and still heavy with sleep. You settle onto your back, kicking the sheets further down the bed so you can splay your fingers low on your stomach. They dip just slightly under the waistband of your underwear, closer to where you hope you'll need them soon. "So? Tell me how bad you want it."

You've never done the phone sex thing with Joel before, but if that's what he's looking for, then you're more than happy to play along. Every hushed sigh and bit-back groan, you want to hear it all. To let the gentle vibration of it in your ear reverberate through your body, feeding your arousal until it’s humming between your legs.

It’s been way too long. This might hold you over for now, but after tonight, you're going to need the real thing. Your boyfriend, close enough to touch, instead of a crackling, disembodied voice.

But, before you can even begin, your call is abruptly halted by a hard knock at the door. You shoot up, ripping your hand out of your underwear to rest over your racing heart.

No one’s ever at your door at this hour, and the fact that someone is either spells trouble or a mistake. Part of you is relieved that you’re on the phone with Joel in case there’s actual danger out there, but another nagging part really wants to ignore the interruption. You’ve got better things to do.

But you investigate, anyway. Better safe than sorry, right? Then, you can enjoy whatever Joel’s got planned for you to the fullest.

"Jesus, what...hold on, I think there’s someone outside," you whisper harshly into the phone as you slide out of bed, creeping as quietly as you can to the front door. "I'll be right back, I’m gonna go—“

To your surprise, Joel continues on anyway, undeterred by the commotion and the obvious alarm in your voice. But he sounds strange again, almost like he’s echoing.

“Want it real bad."

You grip your phone tighter as you struggle to hear what he's saying, but you’re too distracted by the chaos unfolding around you to focus. He’s acting so out of character. Seriously, what the hell is going on? You have no idea why this night’s been so out of wack, but it's starting to get a little too weird for your liking.

“Uh, say that again?"

The call drops and you're left staring at your home screen, feeling confused as hell. That is, until you hear those same words in that familiar, deep drawl coming from the other side of the door.

There's no way.

You unlock it without bothering to look through the peephole, opening it to find a very disheveled Joel leaning against the doorframe. His face is already so close to yours like he’s been waiting for you to come to him, eagerly. Impatiently.

The scent of his favorite spearmint gum fans over your face, and you subconsciously drag your tongue along your bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes follow the action, captivated by every minute movement you make, and you can tell how much just being in your presence is affecting him. The intensity in his gaze would make you feel nervous if it wasn’t for the obvious want simmering below the surface.

God, why does all of this feel so potent? You’re panting...when did that even start? It’s suddenly hotter than the stifling warmth under your sheets, despite being half-naked in your open doorway, but it feels good. Right. Because he’s breathing as heavily as you are.

There’s no traces of beer or whiskey on his breath. So, he's completely sober, then. Whatever you were hearing in his voice, that wild look in his eyes, completely overtaken by his blown pupils—he’s not drunk on any of that. Only on thoughts of you. Your breath hitches when he speaks again, in person this time.

"Don't think I need to repeat myself, do I?"

Your eyes drop to the intimidating tent in his sweatpants before darting up to meet his.

"No, I believe you," you breathe out.

And, god, do you.

Adrenaline floods your veins as he lurches forward to kiss you, and, finally, you get to taste that dizzying combination of mint and Joel. The coolness of it on your tongue does little to quell the heat spreading from your lips down to where you need him most.

His hands immediately find purchase where yours were just moments before, sliding up your sides under your oversized sleep shirt—his shirt. He cups the soft skin of your breasts, and you moan wantonly into his mouth, suddenly desperate to be bare in front of him.

But he ignores the bunched-up fabric shielding you from his view. He actually seems pleased by the sight of it on your body and the scent of himself still lingering on your skin. You haven't washed it since he left it here, and you can tell it’s stoking something primal in him. Something he's left unchecked since the last time he was with you that threatens to consume him. Shit, you can hear it in his voice.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy lines marring his brow as if the thought of not being able to have you for so long physically pained him. “Been up all damn night…haven’t been able to think about anything else all goddamn night.”

He thumbs over a nipple while he tweaks the other, hard enough to startle a gasp out of you, and, oh, he likes that. The blunt outline of his hardening cock is insistent against your hip, but he holds himself back from grinding into you. Even as his body reacts without his permission, he’s still choosing to prioritize your pleasure first.

“You got no idea, the things m’gonna do to you tonight. Gonna treat you right, pretty girl, give ya everything you deserve.”

Your heart stutters, and you practically preen at his praise. This fucking man. You swallow his words greedily, pressing your lips into his hard enough to bruise, and the kiss descends into desperation and an unexpected need to hear more. You want more of those sweet, filthy words, to see what they really mean when he finally delivers on them. And all you have to do is ask.

“Then, give it to me.”

He parts from you with a lewd smack, a string of saliva hanging between you. You use the brief respite to take him in, your eyes roving over his tousled curls and the flush that’s quickly traveling down his neck and spreading across his chest.

He’s so fucking beautiful, and…and why aren’t your hands on him right now? He’s been standing there for minutes, or hours, you can’t even tell anymore. Yet, when you reach out to touch him, he catches your hand in midair. His grip is gentle yet firm, the side of his mouth quirking down as he raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you’re being scolded.

"Oh, honey. I know you can ask nicer than that,” he mutters, lifting it to his lips and softly kissing your palm.

There's a sense of authority in the way he says it, contradictory to the saccharine nature of his words. You're starting to realize you're not in control—that, tonight, what he says goes—but it feels safe. You know he'll take good care of you.

He gives your breast an encouraging squeeze as his other hand snakes further down to palm your ass, pulling your hips into his so you can feel all of him. This is what you'll get if you're a good girl, he's telling you.

You bite back a whine, gazing up at him through your lashes, wetting your lips before you try again. His way.

"Please."

Your voice quivers around the singular syllable that guarantees you’ll get what you need.

“There's my sweet girl. Just need’ta be reminded sometimes, don’t ya?”

He nods his head slowly, commandingly, while he asks the question, and you mimic him. You can feel yourself slipping, drowning in him and this feeling of security. You can’t help it, and you don’t want to.

He leans in to press his lips against yours again, devouring you in a way that feels less hungry and more exploratory, like he’s mapping you out. Filing away everything that makes your breath hitch and your eyelids flutter. He’s not immune to you, though. That much is obvious.

There's a growing wet patch on the front of his sweatpants, and you belatedly realize he didn’t bother putting on boxers before he left his house. He rubs damply against your stomach, just below your belly button, but he’s still not nearly close enough to where you need him. You don’t even know why his pants are still on. They really shouldn’t be.

Then, that same cool breeze and the delicate sound of crunchy, autumn leaves blowing along the sidewalk reminds you why. The front door is still wide open, leaving you standing in your underwear, and Joel with his hand up your shirt, in full view of anyone passing by. Not that they would at this time of night, but the thought is still a little thrilling. But not enough for Joel to leave it open any longer.

He pushes you further into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind him, and leads you backward to your bedroom. God, you can’t wait to see him—his tanned, sun-weathered skin and sparse smattering of freckles.

There’s too many layers between you and if your body isn’t pressed against his soon, you might actually lose your mind. You’ve never been this desperate for him before, but there’s something about the way he’s acting tonight.

This unfamiliar headspace you’re in…fuck, it feels good. You’re trusting him to make up for those weeks apart and, even more so, to dictate your pleasure in ways that are totally new to your relationship. You’ll do what he tells you, you’ll moan for him, you’ll cum for him. He knows what’s best for you.

Your clothes come off first. Your shirt is pulled up and over your head, and then he bends to tug down your underwear, letting it drop soundlessly to the floor. Next go his shoes, then his socks, leaving a trail of fabric from the living room, all the way to your bed.

It’s so sensual—surprisingly so—even though it’s something you do all the time. But tonight, he’s handling you with such rapt attention. His eyes never leave yours as each article of clothing falls to the plush, blue-patterned carpet beneath your feet.

You’re so naked. Compared to him, still clad in his jacket, t-shirt, and pants, you feel…exposed. Vulnerable. Maybe that’s the point. You approach him carefully, waiting for his permission to touch him, and he smiles softly.

“C’mere, baby. Could use a little help here,” he reassures you, reaching out to take your hand. But instead of letting you undress him, he guides it over the thick bulge in his sweatpants.

His fingers close around yours and, together, you squeeze him. Your eyes shoot up to gauge his reaction, but other than a nearly inaudible sigh and pinched brows, he’s not showing any other signs of being affected at all.

Craving more, you grind the palm of your hand into him, relishing the warmth of his cock as it pulses the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat in your grasp. He hisses out a breath, his hand tensing over yours, and a flash of pride lances through you.

Yes. Gotcha.

But your satisfaction is short-lived. To your disappointment, he tugs your hand away, but he doesn't separate from you completely. Instead, he slides it up past the softness of his stomach to rest on his chest. It rumbles softly under your touch as he speaks, except, they’re not necessarily the words you want to hear.

“No more of that. S’about you right now,” he drops his forehead to yours, fixing you with a stern look. “Later, alright? When I’m fuckin’ ya, you can touch me as much as you want.”

Shit. You clench down hard, suddenly hyperaware of the wetness between your legs and the feeling of devastating emptiness. You want it now, but you still have no idea what his plans are.

If you’re a brat about it, he’ll probably make you wait even longer, and, anyway, that’s not what you want to be tonight. You want to be good for him.

His broad hands spread across your waist as he tilts his head to kiss your cheek, then the underside of your jaw. Without warning, he sucks hard, likely leaving a mark you’ll have to cover up tomorrow before work. You hope he leaves more.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble remorsefully, shivering in his arms as his thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into your skin. “I can wait—I…I’ll be better.”

“S’okay, baby, I know ya will,“ he replies, dragging his lips down to your shoulder. “Just keep goin’. You’re doin’ so good.”

Finally, you push his jacket off his shoulders and it joins the rest of your clothes, hitting the floor with a solid thunk. The noise startles you enough to clear some of that comfortable haze, and you slowly pull back, eyeing him curiously.

That’s…way louder than it should’ve been. It’s his fall coat so it barely weighs a thing, even with his phone and wallet in his pockets.

But he doesn’t seem surprised at all. His face is unreadable except for the hint of a smirk, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to talk anytime soon.

You bend down to pick it up, your eyes still on his, and you were right. It’s heavier than it should be by a long shot, and you’re honestly a little taken aback that you didn’t notice it earlier. But, in all fairness, you weren’t noticing much of anything earlier, save for Joel’s hands and lips on your body.

Reaching into his pocket, your fingers brush against something clunky and metallic. It’s not his phone. There’s too many moving pieces, and it’s at least three times its size.

When the mystery item is finally revealed, your jaw drops. Joel can be a pretty spontaneous guy when he wants to be, but this? You never saw this coming.

In your hand sits a goddamn camcorder. An honest-to-god video camera that was just sitting in his pocket with no discernible reason for being there.

While you wait for him to explain, the gadget begins to feel heavier by the second, just the idea of it burning a hole right through your palm. But you know you don’t need him to. You’re not a child, and, in the back of your mind, you already know exactly why it’s there. This is the reason he came here.

That pretty, hazy brain fog halts briefly, just long enough for you to get some answers. You want to hear him say it.

“You said you’d give me everything I deserve, right? I think I deserve an explanation,” you say, forgoing the pleasantries he asked of you earlier.

You’re fighting not to sound weak, to emulate his authoritative tone, but your heart is pounding and you already sound out of breath. Fucking hell, this man. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life, and he knew this would happen.

Judging by the way his eyes darken and rove over your naked curves, he’s painfully aware of it. You watch dumbfounded as his patience runs out, and he discards his shirt and sweatpants. Now that his secret’s out, he doesn’t want to wait anymore, either.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, and your hands clench into fists at your sides to keep yourself from reaching out and touching him, but it feels impossible. It’s right there—his cock, leaking and flushed red at the tip from neglect.

It jerks under your heated gaze, and he exhales sharply through his nose, wrapping his hand tightly around the base. He's clearly struggling as much as you are. Then, he moves closer, all but crowding you into the edge of the bed, and you can feel it pulsing against your bare skin.

“Here’s the deal, pretty girl—you’re gonna cum s’many times as I want you to, and this here’s gonna record it all,” he drawls, holding out his hand for the camera. You acquiesce without any more questions. “Waited too damn long to see you like this and that ain’t happenin’ again.”

His other hand cups your cheek to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, and your lips part around an almost imperceptible gasp. To anyone else but him, at least.

“You gonna let me?”

You nod quickly, praying your eyes convey all of the want you’re feeling and none of the nerves.

“Yeah,” you answer, breathlessly. “I’ll let you.”

But he sees right through you. The apprehension in your voice is too apparent, and he clocks it on the spot. His eyes instantly soften. He tugs you into his arms and holds you close, nosing into the hair just above your ear. Relieved, you sag into his familiar embrace.

“If this ain’t okay with you, we stop right here. Alright? We don’t do anythin’ you're not a hundred percent sure you want,” and he sounds attentive and so earnest.

His bare skin feels so warm against yours, and you allow it to remind you of everything he promised you. Of all of the things he’s about to do to you, for you, and the tape that’ll capture it all. For yours and Joel’s eyes only, whenever you need it. And you know you will eventually.

Rubbing your cheek into his chest, you close your eyes and take a minute to let the calming beat of his heart make you feel less nervous. This is an entirely different kind of reminder, one that reassures you that you trust this man with everything you’ve got. You’re sure of your answer.

“I want this, Joel,” you murmur, slowly opening your eyes to meet his, commanding his full attention. “I promise you, I want this so fucking badly.”

That flips the switch. He swaps your positions in the blink of an eye, looping his arm around your middle to drag you up the bed until his back is against the headboard with you between his legs.

“Don't need'ta be shy. You’re beautiful, baby, that’s all it’s gonna see,” he breathes out, his voice thick with affection and want.

He bends you both forward, his chest solid against your back, to set the camcorder onto the sheets, and tosses a few pillows behind it to prop it up. Something intimidating clicks just as Joel tilts the preview screen toward you.

It’s on. Brightly lit and reflecting back a depraved mirror image of you and Joel, naked and panting and needy.

Okay. Okay, here we go. Another click, and then a red light blips next to the lens.

It’s recording.

The light flashes steadily, and you can feel your body tensing with every strobe. Come on, loosen up. It’s just a piece of metal. A very…scary piece of metal that’s watching your every move. Your thighs tremble from a confusing mix of arousal and nerves, and you start to feel embarrassed.

You can see yourself on the little screen, feeling small yet secure in Joel’s arms, but you’re too focused on the camera’s attention on you to relax. As if he can tell you’re about to shrink into yourself, Joel distracts you. You haven’t told him to stop or asked him to turn it off, and he knows you would if this became too much.

"See what I mean?" He smoothes his hands down your thighs, carefully parting your legs. He gives you every chance to close them, but you don’t. "Fuckin' perfect, just like I told ya."

You try harder to see what he sees, what you're praying the camera sees. He's so free with his compliments and praise, you want to believe you deserve them.

"Prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he mutters tightly under his breath, his fingers massaging the tense muscles in your thighs. "From now on, m'gonna get to see this whenever I want. See myself fuckin' you whenever I can't."

Once you catch sight of your glistening heat reflected back at you, you help him spread your legs even further, watching as your cunt visibly clenches in response.

Oh. Oh...look at you.

You get it now, why he wants this on film. You’re captivated by yourself, by the way Joel bites back a groan and his body seizes up as he fights not to rut into you. You’d love to be able to see that again.

But then his fingers finally press deliciously into your clit and any lingering anxiety completely fades away. You barely even register his lips brushing against your ear, checking in before he continues with everything he’s about to put you through.

“Doin’ alright?” he murmurs between damp kisses against your neck. That tranquil haze begins to settle in again as he mouths wetly at your skin, the coarse drag of his beard a familiar comfort.

“Mhm,” you hum before your head lolls back onto his shoulder, and you slip completely. “S'good...feels good.”

“That's my girl,” he breathes tenderly, rewarding you with more pressure, pressing down harder on your clit.

The slick friction is heady and so effective that all you can do is give in as your hips swivel into his touch of their own accord. He's taking such good care of you, attuned to every gasp, the quickening rise and fall of your breasts.

You tilt your head to observe his expression. It's your only indication of what he’s feeling since he’s still refusing to allow himself to react to you physically.

He's breathtaking, looking like a man starved with his parted lips and pitch-black eyes, locked on where his fingers are slipping through the mess he’s making of your pussy. He must feel you watching him because he suddenly smirks, snaking a hand up your body to cup your breast.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you mewl, pretty and perfect for the camera, your hips bucking clear off his lap when he begins to languidly massage the soft curve. You're getting so close already and your entire body quakes with it, your thighs trembling violently against his as he swirls tighter, faster circles into your swollen clit.

“Joel…ngh—Joel, I’m...fuck, m’gonna cum,” you whimper into his neck, grabbing his thighs to anchor yourself. "C-can I? Please."

“I know, baby, I can feel it. C’mon, give it to me,” he rasps, your demand from earlier falling raggedly from his lips. "Show the camera how hard ya cum for me."

Then, he pinches your nipple hard between his thumb and calloused middle finger, and you’re gone. Your orgasm crashes over you in a blissful wave, your stomach tensing intermittently with every gushing pulse of your cunt, and he doesn’t let up. Not until you’ve ridden his hand through your aftershocks, and slump into his chest, completely spent.

“That’s one, pretty girl.”

That’s…one? He’s counting them? You’re struggling to understand, to even focus on what he’s saying, but he doesn’t leave you wondering for long.

"You're gonna give me four, alright?” His fingers shift from your chest to your chin, tilting your head up to face him. The look in his eyes tells you to listen because he means this. “Want ya to cum on my fingers three times before you cum on my cock. Can ya do that for me?"

Christ. Your eyes dart from the attentive device, still recording every move and reaction you make, back to his. Can you? You’re not even sure if that’s possible, and your bottom lip trembles as you start to overthink it.

You’ve never orgasmed that many times in a row, not with him or by yourself, and yet, he sounds so sure that you can. That he can make you. His thumb gently strokes your chin, and you believe him. You will.

"Yes, Joel," you find yourself nodding obediently, and you're thrilled at how pleased he looks.

He leans down to kiss away your worries, swallowing your surprised squeal as his fingers waste no time starting up those insistent swirls on your clit again. Your hips jerk away from his hand, but he only smiles against your lips, his strong arms holding you in place.

It’s way too much, nearly overwhelming you, and you whimper into his mouth at the oversensitivity. Your floor muscles clench painfully as you continue to try and recover from your last one, but you don’t stop him. You give into him so easily, letting his adoration and sheer desire fuel you.

“That's it. You can take it, I know ya can,” he encourages, pulling away from your lips to gaze down at you in awe. "Look at my girl...so damn responsive tonight. Listenin' so well."

You can’t help the satisfaction blooming in your chest, gasping in relief as the sensitivity begins to subside into intense pleasure. His eyes drop between your legs as your hips start to chase his touch, and yours quickly follow.

“Shit,” he mutters, his voice tighter than it has been all night. “You get so fuckin’ wet when ya cum. Makin' the prettiest mess.”

His middle and ring fingers abruptly slip from rubbing merciless circles into your clit down to your entrance, plunging inside you, and god, it's exactly what you need. His fingertips drag against your sensitive walls, stroking something repeatedly that steals your breath away, and your pussy flutters around him.

He mimics the soft sound but it trails off, dropping to something deeper that rumbles in his chest, and his slow, purposeful thrusts turn aggressive. His fingers hook inside you, and your eyes roll back, lips parting around desperate, choked-out words he'll watch back and probably cum to.

"...t-there, there. Please...don't stop—," you keen, your voice catching every time your hips buck to meet his hand. "—n-need more. Please, Joel, I...c-can you...?"

That gorgeous smirk returns, his face alight with pride. He's so proud of you.

“Beautiful and polite, Christ. Whatever you want,” his fingers don’t let up, and he looks mesmerized by how slick and easy he slides in and out. “Keep askin’ nice like that and I’ll give ya anything.”

Adding a third finger, he starts to fuck into you in earnest, ramming against something deep inside you as his palm slaps repeatedly against your clit. You see stars. Your vision begins to blur, and you’re positive you’re moaning louder than you should be this late at night, but you can’t focus on anything else but the wet squelching of your pussy around him.

You should probably feel at least a little ashamed, but your warming cheeks have nothing to do with the noise and everything to do with the wrecked, stuttered moans in your ear, and Joel’s cock rutting into your ass in time with his fingers.

He's finally losing his composure. That careful self-restraint he's tried so hard to maintain, slowly but surely being dismantled. He clearly doesn’t care anymore, and he wants you to know it.

"Feel that? S'what ya do to me,” he grits through his teeth, his head dropping to your shoulder to watch as he smears precum messily across your skin. You unintentionally squeeze his fingers at his words, and he groans raggedly. "Fuckin'...tight—Christ, ya just keep gettin' tighter. Think m’gonna fit?"

You shake your head furiously, already feeling too full around his fingers, but your body betrays you, grinding down onto his cock before you can stop yourself. He exhales sharply at your reaction, bucking into you a little harder than he means to, and for a moment, you think maybe he likes the idea that he's too big for you. That your pussy's just too tight to take him right now.

That little red light still gleaming next to the ever-observant mechanical eye in front of you would probably love to witness that. A filthy, intimate image of you caught between intense pleasure and pain, forever preserved.

"No?” he murmurs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “S'okay, baby, we'll make it fit. Don't'chu worry."

It hits you like a freight train, your second orgasm catching both of you by surprise and knocking the wind completely out of you. He wrenches his fingers out of your heat so he can wrap his arms tightly around you, keeping you from knocking over the camera as you writhe in his lap. It's overwhelming, somehow even more intense than the first, but the sensitivity sets in quicker.

Your nails dig sharply into his arms, and he hisses in a breath behind you. You're scared you might be hurting him, but you're having trouble controlling your limbs as immense amounts of dopamine flood your system, so you scrabble against the damp sheets instead.

Fuck, you can’t. It's too much. He’s still moving beneath you, the slide of his cock against your skin made easier by the slick dripping between your legs, and you’re not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. You want to do this for him so badly, but you're not sure how much more you can take.

One more. You can take one more. Then, he's yours.

Sensing your discomfort, he holds you through it, lets you ride it out until you’re whimpering softly in his arms. But all he offers is a brief, sweet moment of respite before his fingers return to your cunt. He mindfully avoids your clit as he slowly sinks two fingers back inside you, and, now, even you can feel how tight you are. Each one of his knuckles catches on your entrance and rubs you purposefully, if not a little painfully.

"How's that feel, baby? Talk to me.”

It aches. It’s so much. It’s not enough. The warring sensations between your legs intensify the deeper he plunges into you, but, this time, the sensitivity doesn’t ebb. Instead, it amplifies everything. You can feel him keenly, sweat and oppressive heat pooling everywhere your bodies connect, and you melt into it. Into him.

"S'good...keep—," you accidentally clench around him, and your breath hitches at the dull throb that wracks your lower half, "—k-keep going. Want more.”

“Fuck. Such a good girl...so fuckin' good,” he breathes heavily behind you, grunting his pleasure into your shoulder every time your hips try to escape insistent strokes. It's not just the steady grind of his cock between your ass cheeks that’s getting him off. You can see the playful sparkle in his eyes on the screen, regardless of how small his image is. He's enjoying the chase.

You think he could even cum like this, playing this dangerous game with you. It's then that you realize you like it, too. You both know how close you are to earning your reward, so agonizingly near, you can taste it. And he can feel you around his fingers, tensing and relaxing, beginning to adapt to the unbearable soreness as your orgasm quickly approaches.

"Almost there, baby. S'a lot, I know, but you're takin' it so well,” he groans encouragingly. You can hear the subtle anticipation in his voice. He’s a wreck behind you, all but fucking into your skin as he adds a third finger and increases his speed. You let out a pained moan together at the resistance. "Hurts, huh? Lemme make it better, pretty girl. Tell me what ya need."

“M-my clit, please…please,” you beg him. Politely, nicely, kindly, whatever he wants. It’s still swollen and rubbed raw despite how wet you’ve been all night, but, fuck, you need it. Just a gentle touch would be enough to send you over the edge. That’s all it’ll take.

And that’s exactly what he gives you. Three barely-there swirls with his thumb, and you’re screaming, cumming around him so hard, you’re almost worried you’ll break his fingers. Your spasming floor muscles are unforgiving, convulsing violently as you cream into the palm of his hand, but this time he doesn’t wait for it to subside.

The internal pressure suddenly disappears and everything tilts on its axis. You’re being shifted, lifted higher by two strong arms encircling your waist, and something big—god, it feels huge—nudges at your abused hole. Joel’s speaking, but whatever he’s saying is too difficult to make out over the blood roaring in your ears. It sounds urgent. Impatient. He sounds needy.

He lowers you just a hair, and the stretch around his tip feels impossible. You were right. He's not going to fit, and the thought makes you want to cry. He has to. You need him to.

"...baby...baby," his voice finally cuts through the fog. He's shaking, trembling like a leaf all around you, but refusing to move until you can hear him. You realize he's been asking you a question, and he needs your answer now. "Need'ta be inside you. Christ, I—m'not gonna be gentle. I...can't, I can't anymore. Gonna fuck you hard, s'that okay? Can ya take me?"

He gives you a little more, a preview of what's to come before you make your decision, and it fucking hurts. It's also the most incredible thing you've ever felt.

More. You said you wanted more, and you meant it. You nod frantically, whining your assent, but it's not enough. He needs you to say it.

"Need'ya to use your words, baby. Yes?"

"Yes," you choke out around a sob, wriggling in his arms to get him to move faster. He exhales sharply through his nose, the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat pulsing in his chest and cock.

"Yes."

It's the last warning you get before he drives into you in a single, earth-shattering thrust, burying himself to the hilt. It feels like he's splitting you in half, tearing you right down the middle, and replacing every part of you with Joel, Joel, Joel.

And he doesn't stop there, or give either of you time to adjust. He pistons into you, a wet thock-thock-thock of drenched skin against skin, and you accept it gratefully. You're delirious with the feeling of him stretching you past your limit. So full, you're so fucking full of him. It's the only thing grounding you to the present, your unyielding walls fighting to mold around him.

After hours of giving, he finally takes. He's all but snarling into your ear like a starved apex predator feasting on his prey, biting and sucking and bruising every inch of skin he can reach. Yet, he's still so full of praise for his girl.

"Look at us, baby. Y'see that?" he growls, just loud enough for the mic to pick up the wrecked reverence in his voice. He takes your hand and guides it down until both sets of fingers are wrapped around where he's breaching your swollen cunt. You cry out at the thickness of him, the unimaginable sight of you stretched around him, gripping him. "Takin' me so well. Knew you could. Goddamn perfect woman, s'like you were made for it."

You're starting to believe it. That you were shaped in his image, created just for him. You want to return his affection, even a fraction of the praise he's given you this entire night, but you're past the capacity for speech.

The tension in your chest is making it hard to breathe, and every attempted reply is forced from your body as an incoherent string of stuttered moans and broken sobs. Nearly every other thrust punches your cervix, and you can already feel that telltale heat flooding between your legs.

You can't tell him all of the things you want to. So, you show him, instead. Your entire body goes lax in his arms except your hips and hands, and you rock forward on every upstroke, caressing his inner thighs with your thumbs.

His lips press against the underside of your jaw as he whines desperately into your skin, subtle groans rising in frequency and volume the longer you continue your ministrations. You can feel his stomach tensing behind you, and his grip tightens like he's either trying to stave off his release or anchor himself for when he inevitably erupts. He's so fucking close to the edge, now, you can tell.

He can, too. But he needs you to get there first.

Your hips are already starting to buck into his, and he takes that as the go-ahead to give you more. A sign that your body can handle everything he has left. His arms unravel from around you, and he slows his pace to a deep, heady grind that sets your body ablaze.

He snakes one hand up your stomach to cup a breast while the other drops to rub sloppy circles into your overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out at the sudden onslaught of sensations. Your eyes dart to the camcorder as it builds and builds, in your chest, at the base of your spine, and against that spot deep inside you that has you fluttering around him. You promised one more, and you're ready to put on a show it'll never forget.

But that's the opposite of what Joel wants. He delivers a sharp slap to your clit to get your attention.

"Look at me, baby. Don't look at the camera," he grits out. You whine, turning your head to face him, your expression pleading with him to keep doing that. He acquiesces with a smirk, slapping it again, purposefully and repeatedly to punctuate his demands.

"Ya look at me when you cum, alright?"

Slap.

"Nowhere."

Slap.

"Else."

His hand collides with your cunt a little harder, and even he moans at the contact.

Slap.

"Ya don't close your eyes, ya don't look away. Wanna see those pretty eyes when I fill you up."

He releases your breast to grip your chin between his thumb and index finger, holding you in place.

"C'mon, pretty girl. Cum for me."

Then, his assault really begins. He jerks into motion, his hips slamming into yours frantically, matching the sweet, torturous pace of his fingers' rough touch.

Everything goes fuzzy. You feel its steady approach, a surprisingly gentle wave that trickles from where the head of his cock meets your depths, past every sensitive pressure point to where you're gushing onto his coarse curls. But, as it peaks, you barely feel anything at all. A beat of numbness that makes you believe maybe that was all you had left in you.

A moment later, there's euphoria. You're cumming so hard, your vision blacks out, and all you can sense is your bottom half locking down and Joel sobbing into your shoulder while he empties into you, just like he promised.

He fucks you through it, quiet whimpers and murmured praise flowing uncontrollably from his lips. He tells you how tight you are, how your pussy's choking his cock and milking him dry. How good you've been and how perfect you are. He says all of it just for you, but the camera hears it, too.

For a while, he thrusts into you lazily, savoring his sensitivity and sighing through your final aftershocks. Maybe it's punishment for everything he put you through. Or maybe he just likes the syrupy pain of it. Either way, his girth nestled inside you is comforting now that you're both loose-limbed and pleasantly sticky with each other's release.

He lets out a disappointed grunt when he eventually softens and slips out, right around the time your vision returns and the brain fog starts to clear. The flashing red light at the foot of the bed catches your attention again, and you're struck with a sudden idea. One last thing you want him to have on tape.

Sliding haphazardly off his lap, you position yourself on your hands and knees, the camera situated with the perfect view of your core. You peek behind you, shooting a sly smile at the lens before you part your folds, allowing a thick glob of cum to leak out of your swollen cunt and drip down to your clit. Before it can fall to the sheets below, you gather up the mess with your fingers and shove it right back inside you, where it belongs.

Joel groans heavily in response, and his body finally gives out, collapsing against the headboard. You can't help but laugh, exhausted and sated, close to collapsing, yourself. Crawling back on top of him, you wrap your limbs around his neck and waist, and crash your lips messily into his.

As he returns your kiss with sleepy enthusiasm, he tugs you down flush against his chest. His hands slide down your sides to teasingly squeeze your ass, and you pull away with a gasp, intent on teasing him right back, but the bright grin on his face gives you pause.

Now that your head is clear and you're starting to recover, you remember everything that led to this. That, after too many agonizing weeks, you finally got to have him again, in the flesh and in ways you never have before or thought you ever could. And you'll get to relive it over and over, as many times as you need on those lonely nights when he's not there to take care of you.

"I'm glad you came over," you smile softly, unwinding an arm from around his shoulders to brush back his messy curls. "I really missed you."

His grin widens, and he melts into your touch. God, he's...baffling. A total enigma. You wonder how you'll ever reconcile this man with the one on film, but, then, his eyes soften and it becomes clear. Both men love you. Both are Joel.

"Missed you, too, baby. Y'got no idea how much," he says earnestly and with so much tenderness.

"I think I got the picture," you snort affectionately, leaning down to brush your lips against his.

You kiss him again, and your tangling bodies knock over the camera just as the dead battery indicator flashes twice on the screen, then cuts to black.

thanks for reading!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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ma1dita · 1 month

Note

its 10pm again.... 😈😈

rivals with benefits Luke who makes everything a competition. even in bed. 😼

IM ALSO SO SORRY FOR FLOODING UR INBOX

MDNI

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

a/n: liv we're boxing because i literally could not rest until i got this right,,,, smut. public sex. wrap before you tap. creampie. all the nasty things. fuck man...

wc: 968

“That’s a point for me,” Luke says with a menacing grin. The both of you are soaked to the bone after paddling across Canoe Lake to see who could make it to the other end the fastest, and as you gasp for air while holding onto the wood post of the pier, you can’t help but somehow be convinced that he cheated.

“You’re built like a frog with those long legs of yours, how the fuck was I supposed to win?”

Daybreak spreads slowly across Camp Half-Blood, sunlight kissing where the sky meets the water and Luke thinks he wants to kiss you. Knows it, actually—deep down to his bones that the line between hatred and love must be lust.

He swims closer to you like a predator creeping toward his prey, wet curls stuck to his forehead as he admires how hard you’re breathing. You’re right there, and since you like to make a competition of everything from capture the flag strategies to how many campers you both can get to screech at nightly sing-a-longs, he thinks he has an offer you won’t be able to resist. Luke’s hands glide under your shirt as the both of you tread water, still fighting for dominance even when it comes to who takes up the most space to stay afloat. You lick your lips, fingers tugging at his camp necklace as you look at him curiously and raise an eyebrow.

“I’ve got an idea…”

“I’ll start my prayers,” you smirk, before seeing the hot burning want in his gaze. You can feel it in his fingers as they brush the underside of your breasts, nipples stiff in the frigid water. Shaking your head, a nervous giggle leaves you as your arms circle his neck, bodies separated by your thin, sopping nightshirt. If he touches the rest of you, he’ll find other parts that are wet too, warm enough to brave the chill of the morning breeze that settles upon your shoulders.

“The nymphs might see…” you whisper, even though the both of you know not a single soul is awake right now but time is running out like sand in an hourglass.

“You backing down?”

The kiss you press into his open mouth is a clear enough answer—tongues sliding and spearing against each other, hot and angry and bruising. It’s a fair shot, not knowing who’s going to come out on top.

—

“Oh, gods, please!”

Your hands and knees are scraping in the rocks and sand of the shoreline underneath the pier as Luke pistons into you at an alarming rate, each thrust a blow to your senses. He watches your head bob up towards the sky almost in reverent prayer and he’s grinning, continually sinking into your warmth while the rest of him shudders from the cold. Luke’s cock works inside your slick hole instead of against it, and he laughs at the irony of you finally letting him have his way. Your fingernails dig into the coarse beach, grains of sand making their way through every crevice as he fills your pulsing one with glee.

“Fucking knew you’d behave…” he grunts, one hand pulling at the thin cloth around your waist and the other holds onto your stomach so he can feel himself bludgeon you from the inside. “Can’t fight back when you’re getting your brains fucked out, hmm?”

He watches your pretty tits swing from the stretched out opening of your soggy shirt as you choke out a sob of pleasure.

“Yes…f-fuck Luke,” you whine, reaching back to ease your hand against his abdomen but he pulls it behind your back to use as a better hold on you. Luke puts two of his fingers in your mouth and they prod at the skin of your cheek, spit dripping around the digits.

Despite the intrusion, you’re groaning loud enough over the icy smacks against your skin that for a moment he thinks it might actually wake the forest nymphs, but then he’s distracted by your pussy pushing and pulling him as his hips clap against your ass, leaving them raw for days to come. Light waves crash against the shore with your movements, splashing against your knees and you’re giggling at him with a dazed grin as you push your hips back harder against his thrusts, overpowering his control over you.

He swallows thickly, groaning through the building sensation in his stomach as you rock back onto his cock faster and with the purpose of taking him down and winning. The both of you work in tandem as you writhe against each other in a battle to reach the end, unsure of if you’re with him or against him but gods, it feels so fucking good being under him.

“M’so close…Don’t fucking stop,” you shudder, and Luke shuts his eyes hard and takes a deep breath. Even if all 12 Olympians came down right now to smite him he wouldn’t be able to pull out.

So he doesn’t.

He couldn’t even if he tried—he cums so hard, his front meeting your back as you fall into the sand with a muffled yelp and he’s pumping thick rods of his release into your pussy. You shiver under him slightly until you realize your belly is warm from his efforts.

“That’s gotta be like 5 or 10 points,” Luke pants, nipping at your shoulder before he sits up. You’re laying there, ass up and motionless so he slaps a cheek before you start laughing.

“For me. At least you came,” you drone, having been on the brink of an orgasm.

He couldn’t argue with that. So he flips you onto your back and eats you out (sand and slick and all) until he’s ready again and by the time the morning bell rings, you’ve both lost track of who’s won your so-called competition.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan smut #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #made by ma1dita ♥︎

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starofthesea7 · 1 year

Text

König~ it means ‘darling’

(König fingers you in the kitchen.)

Baby hairs stuck to the sweat of the back of your neck as you padded down the stairs to the communal kitchenette on floor 3. A heatwave had swept through the desert valley, expanse of sand still warm from the blazing sun, long since set. You’d woken up with a parched throat, in search of a glass of water.

As you neared the kitchen, flickering phosphorescence of the 80’s refrigerator down the hallway revealed another sleepless soldier must be awake. You peered inside, with half a mind to turn around, depending on who you might discover; you were now painfully aware of your thin cotton tank top and threadbare sleep shorts that must be at least a decade old, and how a soldier may mistakenly perceive your attire as some sort of colourful welcome sign.

Your gaze fell upon König inspecting the contents of the fridge, and you immediately felt your muscles relax, knowing he would blush at a mere glimpse of your clothed chest, let alone bother you for it. It was known that the colossal man was always snacking, as the energy needed to sustain such a large body, as well as its profuse activity, was immense. Now he was basking in the cool air of the refrigerator, bent over to peer in, his arm draped over the door. The fluorescent glow illuminated the contours of his bare chest abdomen, and you found your eyes lingering.

You’d never seen him shirtless before, and fuck, he was attractive. A greek marble statue carved by an expert hand. Lean rippling muscle, a pale, broad expanse of solid back, formed naturally by constant use and necessity. A well oiled machine, complete with a sheen of sweat glazing his heated skin. Your gaze trailed down, to a thick waist, soft indents of relaxed abs, and muscled hips which disappeared below the waistband of his pyjama pants.

You’d had a crush on the Austrian soldier for a while now, but fate had never placed the two of you in a room together, or close enough for you to make true conversation with the introvert. He was friendly enough, but you’d never gotten past simple gentile greeting. His soft presence, however, always brought comfort with it. So large, yet unimposing, as if nothing could harm you with him there.

You breathed in, and took a step forward. Bare feet sticking to cool linoleum. He turned at the movement eyes darting, then relaxing when he saw you smiling at him. You now realized he wasn’t wearing his mask. Somehow, it felt natural, here, under the cover of night. The lightsource behind him left much to your imagination as he turned toward you, however you were bathed in light. He could see your face, flushed with heat, cheeks shining with perspiration.

“König,” Your voice was soft as you greeted him, “Couldn’t sleep either?”

He shook his head, his voice was deep and raspy with fatigue, and it nudged a quickened heart beat in your chest. “‘S too hot.”

“I know. That fridge feels nice.” You brushed passed him, barely grazing his hip with yours, it left a fuzzy tingle in it’s wake. He seemed decidedly too large for the tiny kitchen, like a lion in a cage. Unnatural.

You turned, filling a glass with water, and found yourself wondering if he was watching you, studying the curves of your body the way you just had his. Perhaps he was noticing the way your shorts were a size or two too small, riding up the split of your ass. Perhaps he felt this pull towards you, as you did towards him. Pole to pole. You glanced over your shoulder to see him fully engrossed in comparing the nutrient facts of two different fruit cups. You felt yourself flush, and downed your glass of water, cool water soothing your heated body. Slightly.

You filled it again, before turning to him, taking a another sip from your cup. “Water?”

He turned slightly, looking down at you, “Sure, thank you.”

Before you could think twice, you were handing him your own glass. His eyes flickered from the glass, down to you, and back to the glass. Before you could reiterate, correct yourself, grab him a new, clean one from the cupboard, he took it, a large pale hand swallowing it whole. It was littered with a collection of veins and small scars. You couldn’t help but imagine how it might look compared to your own. Holding yours. Perhaps on your thigh. Your windpipe…

As he raised it to his lips, his eyes held yours vehemently, the sight of his lips where yours had been moments ago made your head cloud slightly. You gazed up at him, ardent through your lashes, studying what you could see of his face.

Although bare before you, in face and body, his true form still escaped you. An enigma. You could make out broad, muscled shoulders, a pale, broad column of neck with a white, healed scar gracing one side. You wanted to graze it with your teeth. A glint of canines and a jaw, sharp, with a whisper of stubble. His nose was large and slightly crooked, in endearing way, as if it had been broken when he was a child. Flicker of an eye, green, which you knew all too well, as they were usually your only point of reference for his expression. His hair was light, tousled from bed, and looked in need of a trim, shorter pieces curling across his forehead and around his neck, damp with sweat. He was younger than you’d imagined. And, admittedly, more attractive.

He leaned into you, and your pulse quickened, before realizing he was only placing the glass on the counter beside you. “Danke.” You nodded up at him, words escaping you in the moment, his close proximity having an embarrassing effect on you. He was hard to read; you supposed that was part of his job. His true motives indecipherable, though laced throughout his subtle movements. Did he want to reach out? Touch you?

You were pulled from your thoughts, “Would you, uh, would you like a fruit cup?” His voice was hesitant, you could tell he felt as though he should offer you something in exchange for the drink. It was cute.

You smiled at him, and pulled yourself up onto the counter, feeling it cold against your skin. A reminder you weren’t wearing anything under your threadbare shorts. “Sure. Mango please.”

As he moved, chilled air swept across your body, goosebumps rose and you saw his eyes flick to your chest, the movement undetectable had you not been studying him. Your heartbeat quickened—your nipples must have been poking through your thin tank. He tore his eyes away quickly.

He cleared his throat and turned back to the fridge, as it illuminated his face you noticed a large scar running from his cheekbone down to his jaw, as well as a split lip. How strange, only hours ago he had been on the field. Ferocious. Violent. Yet here he was, presenting you with a fruit cup. He selected the one labeled mango, and you realized it was the one he had set aside to have himself, and the last mango. You watched as he attempted to open it for you, collossal fingers struggling to grasp the small tab.

You held back a grin. “Here, I can do it.” You opened it easily. Not wanting to dirty a spoon, you began to eat it with your fingers. You felt his eyes on you as you slipped the fruit into your mouth.

Now he was struggling to open his own, bent over to focus. You chuckled, “Let me help. ‘S difficult with your big hands, huh.”

Hair fell across his forehead as he raised his head to look at you, cheeks flushing at your remark, and it dawned on you that perhaps he was insecure about his size. The thought was almost funny to you —If only you could tell him it was one of his best qualities. Hell, it made you want him. Badly.

“Yeah, danke, liebling.” You opened it with no trouble, before handing it back to him. He stood in front of you, a foot of space between your thighs and his, thick with tension. You wanted him closer, the space feeling like both a mile and a hair’s width. Both of you were illuminated softly in the darkness, quietly eating packaged tropical fruit.

Your voice surprised you, breaking the comfortable silence, “What does that mean?”

“Hm?” The deep sound made your throat dry.

“Liebling.” You cringed at your poor imitation.

“Oh, uh..” he was blushing, avoiding eye contact. Your pulse quickened slightly with anticipation. What had he called you? His voice quieted with embarrassment, “It means ‘darling’.”

Your heart swelled at his words. Darling. König had called you darling. You leaned back against the cabinet, shoulder blades pressing into plywood, legs parting slightly. You saw his eyes waver from his snack to your thighs. Splayed out before him. Tilting your head up at him, your lips stretched into a smile and you blurted, “You’re cute.”

He flushed at your words, eyebrows raised slightly. “Really? No one calls me that.” His fingers toyed with the plastic in his hands.

You finished your fruit, and licked your fingers clean, eyes on his. “I think you’re very cute.” His vehement eye contact as you sucked your finger made you dizzy. It felt intimate, even a little dirty- cliche. A low budget porno.

Something urged you to keep going. Push further. Whether it was the heat, the late hour or clenching of your cunt you couldn’t be sure, but you wanted more. You wanted to touch him. “Can I try?” You nodded towards the last piece of fruit in his fingers. Your pulse hammered. He looked at his hand, and back at you, as you dared him to give it to you, feed it to you. Your palms were glued to the counter, making no move to do it yourself.

He swallowed hoarsely. You suddenly realized he was shy. Although he was an intimidating presence -colossal in comparison- you made him nervous. Your muscles tensed in anticipation, your jaw opened for him. “Yeah,” His voice was soft and raspy. He leaned forward, lips parted slightly, mirroring yours. Your abdomen tightened as he grabbed the counter in between your legs, as if to stabilize himself, still not courageous enough to grab you. You gazed up at him, wanton through damp lashes as his fingers entered your mouth, so gently. Afraid to be too rough, afraid to hurt you. Used to being a bull in a china shop-but you could take him. God you could take him.

His lids were heavy, pupils blown as he stared at your lips. You felt his breath hitch as your lips wrapped around his fingers, sucking gently. Sweet, rough, calloused. Hot and large. You felt high with fervour, something in you wanted to take him deeper, show him you could do it. But you held back, pulling away with a quiet pop. Lips wet with juice and spit.

He raised his fingers, brushing a lock of hair from your cheek gentle with veneration, before they found the back of your head, skimming, then intertwining, tugging. Need overtook his timid respect. Your scalp prickled as he gripped the back of your head pulling you towards him. Into him. Your lips parted as you looked up at his face, back arching as he tugged you into him, searing cunt pressing molten against the cold plastic countertop. He was looking down at you with furrowed brows, need etched into every feature. Hot breath fanned your cheeks.

“Bitte.” Please. “Don’t tease me.” A fervent murmur that made your stomach flop. He pulled you into him, dwarfing you, lips searing against yours, his mouth opening immediately, inviting you in, pleading for more. More of you. He tasted of peaches and blood as his lip re-split with his mindless movements. Sweet ambrosia collocating with metallic copper. Oxymoron of gentle and harsh. Sweet and bitter.

He was scorching in your arms, musk and sweat. Deep and heady. Months of built up need unwinding, finally. Hot lust satiated, slightly. His grip was white knuckled on the counter between your plush thighs. It’s proximity taunting you, reminding you how badly you needed him there. How your fingers hadn’t been enough for the past months, how you were too small. But he could do it. God he could. He could fill you up- stretch you out. You couldn’t help gripping his wrist, inching your way towards him, squirming, letting out a warbled whimper as your wet cunt dragged against the counter. He groaned into your open mouth, fingertips tightening in your hair when he found your puffy cunt bare for him, clenching, wet and waiting for him.

You jolted as rough fingers brushed your clit, letting out a quiet, pathetic whine. “Quiet, leibling.” His calloused thumbs rubbed circles around the sensitive spot, making you squirm. He groaned as his fingers glided slowly down your sopping slit. His head swam- all for him? This was all for him? He could hardly wrap his mind around the thought. He’d touched himself at night, shamefully, thinking about you-about this puffy little cunt just a few doors down. And here you were, spread and ready for him, wanting to take him. His cock flushed beneath his waistband, heavy and hot. Needy.

You cried out softly as he split you open on his finger, and he pulled you into his shoulder, your mouth agape at the feeling of being stuffed with him. His middle finger twice the size of your own, you squirmed as he sank, knuckle deep. He pushed another inside of you, and you spasmed around him, overwhelmed at the euphoric feeling of being stretched so easily. Gummy walls pulled him in deeper. Sweat prickled his forehead as he held back his need to feel you squeezing his pulsing cock, the want to spread you open, fill you up- see how far you could go. See if you really could take all he wanted to give. You let out an airy moan as he hit that spongey spot inside of you with his middle finger, thighs glued together in over stimulation, spine arching-

Suddenly, to your dismay, he pulled out, quickly stepping away from you. You blindly reached out for him as cold air hit you. Reeling with emptiness. Had you done something wrong? Then you heard it, a creak of stairs. Heavy footsteps.

He reached out and you jolted as he brushed your clit, tugging your threadbare shorts back over your gaping cunt. He leaned back against the counter, face composed as ever.

A figure emerged from the hallway. It was the Lieutenant. He was squinting in the darkness to make out your figures. Voice was rough against the silence, save for the buzzing refrigerator, “Ah, grabbing a snack too?” You could do nothing but stare at König, unable to believe he had been knuckle deep inside you just moments before.

König nodded, face relaxed, lids heavy. He raised his hand and your sopping cunt clenched as you saw him place his fingers to his mouth, to taste you. As the Lieutenant watched. Vulgar. Lecherous. Your spit, slick, and peach juice swirling together in his hot mouth.

You flushed down to your fucking thighs at his words: “Yes sir, just having a peach.”

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wyvernest · 10 months

Text

tú eres mi vida

( part 1) (next part)

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: a lot of fluff, suggestiveness, foreplay?

summary: with the opportunity of a surprise, miguel makes the most of your honeymoon

He walked away from the hammock with you, hanging over his shoulder, ass in the air, making sure to keep a large hand over it, both to conceal you from wandering eyes and to grope at the plump flesh every now and then.

All you're seeing is the beaten path through the shore's sand and the junction between the beach and the hotel's green gardens. He skips the alley leading to your room, your eyes widening in amusement. You know he's good with directions, as long as you're talking about the spider-verse. Otherwise, in the blissful comfort of your honeymoon, you may have caught him further away from the stoic, attentive leader he's gotten used to being.

"Miguel, baby, you missed it. It's that way." you giggle lightly, tapping his lower back, careful enough not to make him feel bad. The last thing you want to do is blow off his mood.

"I know." His tone is confident, teasing. Your chuckles are silenced abruptly at the reply, utter perplexity taking over you. All the places and facilities around the resort flash through your head one by one, none fitting for what you were intending to do. And you haven't discussed love-making in seawater yet, either.

"Where are we going then?" you inquire, after throughout accession of all possibilities.

"Paciencia, cariño. It's a surprise." He reveals, full of pride and excitement, voice lowered and playful. You shiver, gripping into his waist to support your upper body and look around, scanning for said surprise.

He gets to the entrance of the private beach, still not stopping. With a sudden jump, he hops on the pier, your weight secure over his shoulder. You can't deny the wetness gathering in your panties at the thought of how effortlessly he carries you around, showing everyone that you're his, and most importantly, that he's about to make the most of it.

You watch the waves crashing softly against the darkened wood of the pier, clear and cold. You feel the breeze blow up over your bare thighs, shivering. He runs a hand over the exposed skin, up underneath the fabric of your flimsy skirt, stopping shy of the small mound of your cunt. You squirm slightly, needing his touch up higher, but he retracts his wandering hand and tightens his grip over you.

Finally, he reaches the water bungalows. Small huts connected by piers in a web-like distribution. Your eyes fixate on the king-size bed sheltered by wooden walls on all sides, except for the one facing the sea. Open and free, white curtains flowed by the bed frames, carried on the wind's wings like sails on a ship.

His knees hit the bed before he lays you down on the soft, clean, white mattress, his back facing the open view. You shift under his shadow, scurrying back towards the bed frame, watching him crawl over to you, slow and methodical.

He grabs your ankles faster than the time it would’ve taken you to escape and rile him up further, pulling you under him so that he’s straddling your hips, holding you in place. You lift yourself on your elbows, attempting to move your legs out of the cage, gazing up at him.

“What d’you think?” He asks, toying with the elastic of your skirt.

“I’ve never been happier.”

You drop your head back down on the bed, having stopped fighting the impossible hold he’s forced you in, between his muscular thighs. He smiles sweetly, satisfied with himself.

“It’s been almost impossible to find one of these available. But now that I have you here,”, he bends down, an inch away from your face. His hot breath fans your mouth, and you take it all in, the scent of him, the fresh bedding, the sea breeze. Your eyelids fall heavy, and he closes the gap between you, kissing you slowly, unhurriedly, like you have all eternity to spend together in paradise, and you’re just getting started. And maybe that’s exactly what it is.

You taste his lips, strawberry sweet and ever loving, feeling your eyes roll back at the sensation. He cups your face with one hand, holding you from fainting, and you let him lead. You feel his body move against yours, yearning to be closer and closer. His happy trail rubs onto your stomach, skin to skin. Every ridge of his defined abdomen pushes down onto you, chest rising and falling with each breath.

Struggling to keep up with the kiss, you sense his hands drift lower, to your waist, and you flinch ever so slightly, muscle memory kicking in. You mentally pray that he won’t–

And he does. He resumes his earlier attack, tickling you and abusing all the sensitive and funny spots he knows so well.

You scream through the uncontrollable laughter, fragments of his name that he otherwise hears in a different context, but which he adores nonetheless. His grip loosens momentarily, and you slip away like a cobra in desert sand. Before you can manage to get up and make a run for it, he grabs onto your skirt, his talons ripping through the material, leaving you in your shirt and panties. You protest, but he’s quick to drag you back on the bed. He laughs wholeheartedly, pinning you to the white sheets. You’re more than certain that the racket can be heard from miles away, but you couldn’t care less.

In an attempt to shield yourself, you bring your arms to your sides, tears already rolling down your eyes as you’re running out of breath and energy. He stops, and squeezes his thighs around your waist. You’re not leaving.

As he gathers the white sheets, pulling them over you both, you try to ignore the weight of his half-hard cock that’s now resting on your midriff. Or not.

You run your hands up his burly thighs, over his hip bone and up his abdomen, feeling the muscles ripple with his movements. He gives you a knowing look, bringing the sheet over his head, trapping you in a semi-transparent cocoon.

“Who’s gonna see us? The fish?”, you manage to say, feeling the remnants of an explosive giggle kick back in right after you’ve calmed down.

“I’m not taking any chances. There are speedboats.” he mumbles, as he adjusts above you.

“They’re not allowed so close to the-” he cuts off the rest of the sentence, slamming his lips onto your once again, and just like earlier, he has you melting in his arms in no time. It’s almost embarrassing how he manages to surf you through emotions so quickly and effortlessly, but you blame it on the beauty of being utterly and irrevocably in love. His lips move against yours with expert ease and precision, stopping every now and then to breathe, barely breaking away, as your exhales mix together in desperation and fascination.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist, basking in the heat of his body radiating down on you. A groan reverberates in his chest at the action, resulting in him moaning in your mouth.

You continue to make out in the cool shade of the bungalow, sheltered from the blazing July sun, and every second you feel like it’s the first time again, butterflies in your stomach, heart about to burst.

When he finally parts from you, chest heaving, eyes half lidded, you feel as if you’ve been cut from a lifeline. He moves to your flushed cheeks, the kisses are open-mouthed and slow.

“Te amo. Tu eres mi alma”, he kisses below your temple, “mi corazón-”, he moves to your jaw and right below it, “-mi vida.”

He licks at your neck, kissing the sensitive skin with insistence, pressing himself closer to you.

“Y siempre lo serás.”

link to part one!

translations:

paciencia - patience

tú eres mi alma - you are my soul

y siempre lo serás - and always will be

a/n: ill do a part 3 i actually love this whole honeymoon idea:) i hope its at the very least a bit original with the bungalow and all that

ALSO if you're a native latin spanish speaker please correct me im here to learn and write him as well as i can<3

+thank you everyone for the AMAZING feedback ive received for the first part!! i really hope you like this one and the next just as much

taglist:

@cooch1ecruncher @nvkdjnvjkd @tsukkie-daisuke @noahspector

(it won't let me tag everyone, sorry if i missed you)

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x you

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velvetti · 7 months

Text

Sea of lust

Warning: Non-con, Kidnapping, Beastiality, Tentacles, Stimulation of both holes at once, NFST, Cream pie, Overstimulation, Not proofread

The ocean is a rather unfamiliar thing to humans. The ocean is everywhere, it covers the entire Earth yet nobody has managed to figure out what's under the first layer of the sea and come back in one piece without any special equipments, or come back in general.

You are one of the unfortunate folks to wander too far away from shore while diving. You didn't notice it at first as the water only turned to a colder shade and there were less living things around you, there wasn't any coral, there was just cold deep water, sand and seaweed. You dives deeper, wanting to find out if there's any other thing in the bottom of the ocean.

You brush your hand against the sand floor, picking up a single shell that you managed to find but there isn't anything special about it, it doesn't look like any kind of shell you had seen during all his diving journeys before. You dives forward while looking around, trying to find any other thing.

Luckily, or unluckily, you had noticed a living being after diving for so long. The creature wasn't anything you had seen before, it looks like some kind of weird mutant octopus with multiple tentacles. It's heading your way.

As any normal person would do, you try to get out of the ocean immediately, trying to dive back to shore and get away from the creature before it could get to you. The creature reaches its tentacles out to wrap around your body effortlessly, pulling you in closer and... Submerging you inside it? The creature isn't eating you, it's trapping you in its body like some kind of capsule.

You look around the insides of the creature after it has submerged you inside it. It's pitch black in here due to how dark it is, you reach to find your diving flash light and turn it on, just to be greeted with the sight of many small tentacles that are reaching out towards you. Two tentacles wrap around your knees to hold your legs open, another tentacle going to wrap both of your hands together, holding it behind your back.

You try to scream for help, of course nobody is gonna hear you, you're under the sea, silly. He'll take really good care of you.

Another tentacle starts to rip your tight diving suit into small pieces, revealing your entire torso and lower body. A tentacle goes over to rub against your crotch, it's sloppy feeling against your hole sends a chill down your spine. Another going over to shove its way into your mouth to muffle your pathetic noises, playing with your tongue. Two of them move to play with your chest, moving against your nipples and pinching them even when they start to hurt.

When the creature thinks that you're loose enough, it shoves a tentacle inside of you without any warning, causing you to feel a weird tingle in your stomach. The tentacles don't leave you a moment to think however, they start to move in and out of both your holes, their sloppiness makes the experience enjoyable and surprisingly pleasant. You can believe you're saying this, but you low-key like this.

The tentacles gradually increase its speed, one going over to pull your hair back to give the other tentacle more access to your throat, making your back arch. The two tentacles hold your leg open wider as another tentacle enters your hole, shoving it inside despite the previous tentacle, causing you to cum and tightening around all the tentacles.

The tentacles down there move in a mind breaking speed, it feels so good to be filled up like this. While one pushes against your sensitive spot, the other pulls out just to pound against that same spot while the other moves out, just to repeat the process over and over again. The tentacle in your mouth felt as if it was making out with you, making your brain melt as the salty taste fills your mouth. A few tentacles that aren't stimulating you are kissing your skins, leaving circle marks behind like some kind of hickeys.

The tentacles milked you dry, tormenting you even when you're extremely overly stimulated, even when your liquids had soaked the tentacles and when you're sobbing from all the pleasure. Finally you feel warm spurts deep inside your stomach and your mouth, loads of it as the tentacles pounds into you many more times before finally pulling out of your body, the tentacles are still holding your legs open and keep your wrists together. You look down with droopy eyes to see loads of semen dripping out of your hole, tears fall down from your eyes down onto your stomach. You close your eyes and fall asleep as one of the tentacles goes over to pet your head and ruffle your hair, presumably as a gift for doing a good job.

By the time you woke up, you were naked in a deep cave, the creature sleeping and a bowl full of ripe fruits next to you. As you pick up and take a bite out of an apple, you begin to think about what just happened. The creature looked surprisingly docile and adorable like this, as if it didn't just fuck you into overstimulation earlier. Maybe this isn't so bad...

#gender neutral reader #bottom male reader #female reader #gender neutral nsft #idk what tags to add #tentacles #tentacle monster #orginal post #male reader #vel-fic

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bit-odd-innit · 1 year

Text

They’re about 20 minutes into the movie when Steve feels the familiar dip of weight against his shoulder.

He can’t stop the pulse of fond bemusement that surges through him. After all, Eddie had insisted on picking the movie this week, insisted that it was “an unfathomable travesty” that Steve had never seen it, insisted they had to watch it despite the bruise-colored circles under his eyes, the discreet flex of his hands disguising the tremors he gets when he’s over exhausted. Steve says nothing, lets the movie run, and once Eddie conks out instead of switching to something more his speed, he keeps watching.

The movie’s not Steve’s taste, but it’s not bad. He hasn’t been big into cartoons since he was a kid. The animation is strange yet fascinating, the characters’ movements equal parts natural and off-putting. He drifts in and out of the story, though enough of Dustin and Eddie’s ramblings have sunk in that he’s able to follow along. Whenever a name or location he recognizes pops up he turns to Eddie and says, smugly, “I know what that is.” Eddie replies with a soft exhale that ends in a low hum. His breath skitters across Steve’s throat. Steve shivers.

Eddie’s got this little bank of noises he makes when he’s sleeping. When he crashes after drinking too much, he snores. When he’s asleep but not deep enough to rest, he mumbles—sometimes giggles, too, which is really unsettling if you’re not expecting it. And when he’s dreaming, good or bad, he hums.

They’ve been doing this—whatever this is—for long enough that Steve can tell when Eddie is having a good dream and when he’s having a bad dream. (It’s not weird, he counters to the tiny, horrible Robin voice that lives in his head.) The bad dream hums are low, dredged up from the base of his chest. The good dream hums are high, slipping out from behind his teeth. Steve can’t read music but he took chorus in middle school and he’s hung around Robin while she learned a new piece for band so he’s got an idea of how the note…thingy works. If Eddie’s dream sounds were a song, the good dreams would be at the top of the bar, and the bad dreams would be at the bottom.

Except now, as the movie nears its end, the song changes.

At some point Eddie’s legs had curled up beneath him, his face buried in the join between Steve’s shoulder and neck. Steve can’t hear as much as feel the noises vibrating against his skin. He feels the thrum of bad rising into good, then dipping into something in the middle and holding there. They’re stuck at the center of the stanza (Stanza! That’s what it’s called!) and Steve doesn’t know where to go from here.

“Eddie?”

The arm Eddie is leaning on has gone a little numb, so Steve uses the other to sweep aside the curtain of hair drawn across the side of Eddie’s face, his fingertips grazing his cheekbone. Eddie’s lips part. A new sound, a different sound escapes him. He pushes in close enough for those pink plush lips to press against Steve’s collarbone. Heat curves around the back of Steve’s ears.

“H~eeey.”

He doesn’t want to wake him if this is a good dream. Eddie’s an open book. Eddie’s told him he’s been sleeping like dogshit, that the night terrors have been particularly horrible this week. It’s a joke, a little. The two of them share weird hours. They create bits about how bad things are, how awful they feel about their relationships with people they love, how awful they feel about themselves. It’s fun, until it isn’t. Steve’s seen Eddie’s whole personality swallowed by the wet sand of sorrow. He’s seen him sink into himself and surface with something else, something bright and exuberant and loud and false. If Eddie feels good Steve doesn’t want to ruin it. But if Eddie feels bad—

“Hey.” Steve hooks his palm to rest beneath the ridge of Eddie’s jaw, his thumb pressed into his dimple. “Eddie. Wake up.” Eddie’s eyebrows cinch, a sigh gliding across Steve’s knuckles. His eyelashes flutter, dark and spidery, his lids hanging low over hazy eyes. He blinks, owlish, then tilts up to meet Steve’s gaze with a slow, dreamy smile. “Hi,” he whispers. “Hi,” Steve chuckles in reply.

“W…” Eddie’s mouth works like its full of sunflower seeds; deliberate, purposeful. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Why’dju stop?”

“Stop…what?” He glances to the muted blue static of the screen. “The movie’s over, bud.”

Eddie blinks again, slower. He’s so sweet like this, soft and syrupy, so when he breathes a laugh Steve can’t help but mirror it. “Oh,” Eddie exhales, then leans forward and kisses him.

The hum of Eddie’s dreams are now against Steve’s lips. Those lovely little middle sounds are now inside Steve’s mouth. He swallows them, feels them knife down his throat, wedge between his ribs, twist into the open valves of his heart. He pulls back.

Eddie giggles again. Pouts. “You stopped again.”

“Oh, honey,” The endearment wrenches out of him, involuntary. He smoothes the worry lines out of Eddie’s forehead. “You’re tired, huh?” Eddie makes a non-committal noise. “Okay.” Steve sets his feet and secures his arms behind Eddie’s back. “Okay,” he groans as he lifts him, spins him towards the stairs. “Okay. Time for bed.” Eddie’s still in a half-conscious limbo as Steve navigates him upstairs, mouthing indelicately at any piece of Steve’s skin he can find. It’s untenable, and Steve’s not proud at how he launches Eddie in the direction of his bed, sprints to the en suite to splash cold water on his face before helping him undress. “Take it,” Eddie murmurs when Steve unbuttons his jeans, and Steve needs to sit in the center of the floor for a moment before proceeding. “That’s not what this is.” “Wantchu t’aveit.” Steve shoves him into a pair of flannel pajama pants and stuffs him beneath the sheets. Eddie curves onto himself like a mollusk, and Steve sinks at his hip, brushing his bangs away from his closed eyes. Steve feels himself split down the middle: One part already downstairs; one part already nestled in the contours of Eddie’s body.

“Go back to sleep,” Steve says, and moves to stand. Eddie’s hand closes around his wrist. “Stay?” His eyes flit open, brief, earnest, pleading. “Please, stay.” And, well. They’re going to talk about it tomorrow. They’re going to talk about the movie they didn’t watch, and the moment they half-shared, and the reason its so hard to sleep apart yet so easy to sleep together. Not now. Now Steve shrugs into shorts and a t-shirt, slides in beside Eddie. Now, when Eddie’s limbs tangle around his own, he tugs him closer, lets something deep within himself settle. “Stay?” Eddie asks again. “Go to sleep, honey.”

And he does. And they do.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #my fanfic

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azrielsdove · 2 months

Text

Best Friend’s Brother: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Kinda Mean Az?

***

“Are you ever going to tell him?” Cassian teased you, peering over his glass as he drank. You rolled your eyes, throwing back the rest of your own drink.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied, adding more liquor to your cup. Cassian laughed, shaking his head at you.

“You’re blind if you don’t notice the way he looks at you, anyway.” You stilled at his words, eyes glaring daggers into him.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” You wouldn’t allow yourself the naivety to imagine Azriel felt the same way you did. You had only become a part of the Inner Circle a few years ago, after you accidentally took Rhys down thinking he was a danger. He had been so impressed with you that he immediately offered you a security position and set you up to train under his General and Spymaster. Cassian and you were fast friends, but Azriel left you confused. He rarely spoke to you and passed most of the training off to Cass. Everything he did screamed that he couldn’t care less about you.

Unfortunately, you were enthralled by him.

The few times he did train you were treasured memories, the feel of his hands on your waist as he corrected your position, the way his eyes looked over your body to ensure proper hold. At one of your recent sessions he had tackled you to the ground, hips pinning yours to the sand underneath you. You had allowed him to think your lack of speech was due to shock that he had taken you down so easily, and not because you were going delirious with desire. You had taken a rather long bath after that morning.

“Oh sure, yea, why would I know the male i’ve spent 500 years with? You’re right, you must know him better than I. I apologize, O Great One, for daring to assume.” Cassian mock bowed to you, smirking at your glare. “I know a way to prove it to you.” You hated how he piqued your interest.

“Pray tell, dear friend,” you said, carefully filling your rapidly emptying glass again. You enjoyed the way the drink made your mind fuzzy, the endless thoughts of why Azriel could barely stand you numbed. Cassian leaned closer towards you, a wicked smile on his face.

“Come to training extra early tomorrow. Wear your tightest leathers, the ones from when you first got here.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Those stick to my body like a second skin. I’ll look like a pleasure hall whore wearing them.” You didn’t appreciate the way Cassian looked at you, eyes shining proudly.

“That’s what I intend. I’d never lead you astray, would I?” He raised his hand in surrender immediately after he spoke, shaking his head. “Not about anything like this, I promise.” You knew it was a bad idea to agree to whatever plan he was making, but you found yourself nodding and hoping you weren’t going to regret this in the morning.

***

A low whistle met you as you walked into the training ring early the next morning. “Damn, you look even better than I imagined. If this weren’t to get the attention of my brother i’d try to convince you down to my room.” Cassian looked approvingly over you as you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

“If your plan fails, I may as well take you up on that. Gods know it’s been too long.” You often played into Cassian’s endless flirting, a key reason as to why your friendship developed so fast. He was right, the leathers were tighter than you had expected as well. You weren’t as toned when you began training. They are already made to fight directly to your body, so pulling on ones from a size ago was almost impossible. Still, you managed to buckle them around you, admiring yourself in the mirror. The leather truly hugged your skin, enhancing your strong thighs and body. “What is your plan, by the way?” You asked, looking suspiciously at Cassian.

“I’m gonna kiss you.” Your jaw dropped at his statement as his laughter floated over the training ring. “Don’t look at me like that! Imagine it, Az comes up here and sees you like that, with me? He’s going to be so jealous I won’t be surprised if he has his way with you right here.” You felt your face heat at his vulgarity, shaking your head quickly.

“No way. No way. What if he instead thinks, oh I dunno, that we are together?” You point out, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Trust me when I tell you that he won’t.” Cassian took a step closer to you, holding out his hand. “I am not as dumb as you may think.” You sighed, reluctantly placing your hand in his and letting him lead you over to the side of the ring. You may as well attempt his plan, however ridiculous you think it is. He places a hand on your waist as he pulls you close to him, the other coming up to cup your face. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

You shook your head, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. “What do I have to lose? If it doesn’t work, at least I got to spend my morning with a handsome male,” you quipped, winking dramatically at him. You felt his laugh under your hands, the nerves of what you were about to do calming down. This was Cassian, your best friend. You could trust him.

He dipped his head down towards you, eyes locking onto yours once more to ensure you were okay with this. You pushed up on your toes and connected your lips, using the last little bit of confidence you had. Cassian’s hand slid to the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair as he angled you up into him. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, enjoying how he so clearly knew what he was doing. You moved your arms up to lock around his neck, arching your body into his touch. He nipped at your bottom lip and you gladly opened your mouth to him, almost forgetting why you were doing this.

Almost.

Anticipation slithered up your spine and you forced your eyes to stay shut, even though you wanted to peek and see if Azriel had arrived yet. Cassian’s hand flattened across your back, pulling you tighter against him. You lost yourself in his kiss, allowing your body to relax into his hold.

Something cold and weightless tightened around your calf, pulling your attention away from Cassian as you looked down. Your heart was racing as you took in one of Azriel’s shadows, swirling anxiously around your ankles. Cass didn’t allow the little thing to distract from your plan, bringing his lips up and down the side of your neck. You tilted your head back to allow him more access, an embarrassingly needy noise slipping from your mouth when he nipped at your skin. The shadow spun faster around you, another one coming to wrap around your waist and tug you from Cassian’s grip. You stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over more shadows behind you. “Wha-“ you began, cut off by a shadow wrapping around your throat. Cassian’s eyes widened and he glanced behind you, true fear on his face. That was certainly not comforting.

An arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling your back flush against a strong chest. You forced your breathing to stay steady, realizing it was Azriel behind you. “Cassian,” he said slowly, “what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was quiet, but threat laced his words. Cassian paled, raising his hands in surrender.

“Now Az, let me just explain-“ You shook your head as best you could against the shadows hold, not wanting Cassian to embarrass you further. As if this could get any worse. You were going to murder him for this.

“Leave us. Now,” Azriel commanded Cassian, voice still dangerously calm. You couldn’t help but be a little worried as you watched your friend practically run out of the training area. If Cassian didn’t think he could deal with Azriel right now, what chance did you have?

The shadows disappeared from your body, but the arm around your waist only tightened. You repressed a shudder as you felt Azriel’s lips brush the tip of your ear, leaning down to whisper to you. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing?” You sucked in a breath, all confidence gone now that you were alone.

“I-I’m not playing a game,” you stuttered out, cursing Cassian in your head.

“Mhm,” Azriel said, his other hand coming to trace up and down your thigh. “You just happen to be dressed in these delightful things,” his hand slid between your legs, squeezing your inner thigh. “You show up extra early to practice, and I find you with my brother’s lips on your pretty little neck?” He ghosted his own over the same stretch of skin Cassian had kissed, a shiver running down your spine. “And to make it worse, I have to listen as you make that delicious noise for him?” He nipped your neck in the same spot as Cassian, causing you to gasp in surprise. “Hm, not quite.” His hand between your legs moved up, fingers finding you easily over the tight fabric. You bit your lip and tipped your head back as he circled your clit, the teasing pressure not nearly enough with your leathers in the way. “Look at you, already so reactive for me.” He pressed slow, hot kisses along your throat, his fingers continuing their almost perfect teasing.

“Az-“ You breathed out, arching into his touch. “It wasn’t, ah, it wasn’t real.” He chuckled darkly against your skin, his fingers pressing harder onto you.

“Oh, I know. I don’t take Cassian’s sloppy seconds.” His words were punctuated with a sharp bite under your ear, his teeth sucking in the skin there. You knew he was undoubtedly leaving a bruise, marking you as his. A rather embarrassing whimper left your lips, his fingers still punishing you over your leathers. “That’s more like it,” he groaned, biting a second spot on your neck. You have another helpless noise, enjoying the way it clearly affected him. “I’m going to make you cum, just like this. Do you understand?” He moved his fingers tight against you, playing you like an instrument he had trained for. His lips brushed against your ear again, sucking the lobe of it into his mouth. “I’m going to make you cry out my name, without ever truly touching you.” Heat rose in your cheeks at the humiliation of it. He was going to ruin you without any effort.

And you were going to let him.

You moaned his name as you felt the pleasure build in your core, pushing yourself harder against his hand. “I always knew you’d be so good for me,” he growled, a shadow angling your face towards him. You almost finished at the look in his eyes, his pupils blown wide as he worked you. “I want to look at you when you come undone for me.” You moaned again, trying desperately to lift your head up to kiss him. The shadow kept you in place, a slow smile spreading over Azriel’s face. “Not yet.” He leaned down enough that your lips were a breath away from his, but not any closer. You shook in his hold as the pleasure his fingers were bringing intensified, the teasing too much to bear.

“Azriel, please,” you gasped out, fighting against the shadow. You could feel yourself about to snap, legs quivering as you climbed that peak. He said nothing, only watching you with those stunning eyes of his as his fingers pushed you over the edge. You went rigid against him, mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm took over. He kept working you through it, prolonging your pleasure as long as he could. He stopped when you collapsed in his arms, chest heaving as you sucked in air, trying desperately to come back down. He released you then, watching as you stumbled before turning to face him. His eyes drifted down your body, stopping on the wet spot he had made between your legs.

“I’d say you’re ready for training now.”

***

Here is a short little smutty piece for Azriel Baby <3. I might make this into a mini series 👀. I am still working on Pt.2 of Longing, I just hit a bit of a block and needed to get something else out!! I hope you enjoyed 🩷

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel x reader smut #acotar smut #best friends brother

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