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slu7formen · 1 month

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So I got this from a book but a truth and dare game with Luke where she has to lick whip cream of him. You can do whatever you want with this prompt but like a smut could be nice.

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

this single request itself made me wanna try it, love you <3

warnings: teasing, kissing, s3xual tension, food play, drinking, oral (f receiving), mutual m4sturbation, unprotected s3x, possessive!luke at times, biting, f1ngering, chocking, also this is SO LONG, I’M SORRY

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes.

₊˚⊹♡

The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on the faces gathered around the hidden clearing. You all had managed to sneak away from the watchful eyes of Chiron and Mr. D for a game night in the woods. The air buzzed with the energy of a rebellion and contagious laughter – a night of games for the older campers, fueled by salty and sweet snacks and stolen alcohol —a sweet thank you to the Hermes’ cabin—. Laughter and playful groans punctuated the evening as truth or dare, with a twist, played out. Two decks sat in the center of the circle – red for dares, blue for truth.

Silena patiently waited as Clarisse read a red card out loud. "Whoever you find most handsome, kiss them" the card declared, "or take a shot." A playful smile spread across Silena´s lips, her gaze lingering for a beat too long on Charles Beckendorf. A blush crept up her neck as the others hooted and hollered.

"Come on, Silena" Connor Stoll, Hermes' resident prankster, prodded her with a playful jab. "Don't be shy, show us who the lucky guy is!"

With a playful toss of her hair, she leaned across the circle, her eyes meeting Beckendorf's for a fleeting moment before landing a quick, chaste kiss on his lips. Beckendorf, caught off guard, sputtered and stammered, his face mirroring Silena's blush. The clearing erupted in cheers and teasing whistles.

The teasing went back and forth, fueling the already lively atmosphere. Next, it was Beckendorf's turn. He scanned the circle, eyes falling on a tall and skinny guy sipping on the last drops of his beer.

“Travis” he called. “Truth or dare?”

Travis, ever the clown, leaned back on his elbows, a confident smirk plastered on his face. "Dare" he replied, popping the r out.

Beckendorf announced the dare after picking up a card: "Take off the socks from the person on your right with your teeth, or take two shots." A collective groan rose from the circle. Lee Fletcher happened to be Travis' unfortunate neighbor.

"Come on, Trav" Luke chimed in, a playful look in his eyes. "Those feet are all fresh and sweaty for ya'." The rest of the group roared with laughter, picturing the image of Travis attempting the sock removal with his teeth.

Travis, with a grimace that contorted his face, finally managed to grab Lee's sock with his teeth and yank it free. He held the sweaty trophy aloft, earning another round of cheers and jeers.

Meanwhile, Luke couldn't help but steal glances at you, sitting next to him. The firelight cast your features in a warm glow, highlighting the soft curve of your lips and the way your hair cascaded down your shoulders like a waterfall. The scent of your perfume, a mix of strawberries and something else he couldn't quite place, filled his senses, making his heart pound a little faster. He found himself captivated by your laugh, the way your lips curved into a smile as you spoke, or the way your brow furrowed in concentration when you contemplated a dare. Sitting next to you felt like being next to a goddess, both exhilarating and intimidating, just like the rest of your sisters; girls from cabin ten.

Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, Travis scanned the circle, his eyes stopping on you. You met his eyes, a playful sparkle in your own, as if daring him to choose you.

“yn, truth or dare?”

You took a swig of your beer, the cold liquid a welcome contrast to the warmth blooming in your cheeks under his scrutiny. "Dare" you replied, your voice laced with a hint of flirtatious defiance.

A surprised whistle escaped his lips. Clearly, he hadn't expected you to choose the more daring option, you´ve been picking truth all night. He reached for a card from the red deck, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. The silence grew thick as he scanned the card.

A barely audible chuckle escaped his lips as he read the card. "Alright, pretty girl" he began, drawing out the words for dramatic effect, " 'Lick whipped cream out of the person on your left's neck, or take a shot.'"

A collective gasp rippled through the group, followed by teasing comments towards Luke. "Castellan's lucky tonight!" Connor hollered, patting his back. "Looks like you owe cabin ten a thank you, man."

Luke felt his cheeks burning like rubies. He tried to appear confident, as he always was, a casual slouch to his posture, but the rapid thump of his heart betrayed his cool facade.

You just stared at him for a moment, a nervous yet malicious smirk on your lips. You enjoyed the sight of him suddenly all red and flustered, a stark contrast to his usual cool demeanor. He looked as cute as ever. "Well?" Katie asked, shrugging your shoulder playfully. "Whip cream or a shot?"

And how could you resist the dare? A chance for your lips to brush against the warm skin of Luke's neck in a gesture that was more intimate than any game dared to be? The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a delicious mix of excitement and nervousness. Licking the sweet whipped cream off him, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath your lips... it was too tempting to pass up, and the possibilities were simply intoxicating.

Ignoring the teasing catcalls and whispers, you turned to Katie with a sly smile. "Where's the whipped cream?" you asked, knowing full well that Silena had brought a large bag of candy, a can of whipped cream nestled amongst the chocolate bars and sour gummies.

Your question erupted into another wave of cheers and whistles. Luke, meanwhile, felt like his insides were about to explode. He felt like a churning cauldron of emotions – nervousness, excitement, a burning desire dancing in his stomach.

Silena tossed the can to you. You caught it in the air, the coldness of the metal a stark contrast to the heat burning in your cheeks. You met Luke's gaze once more.

"Looks like you're about to get a little messy" you declared, getting on your knees now for a better access. With a sweet but weirdly evil smirk, you shook the can, the hiss of the pressurized cream a prelude to the sweet mess you were about to create.

As Luke held your gaze, a slow smile spread across his face. He knew this was a chance, one he couldn't afford to miss. "Alright" he sighed, chest heaving up and down in one hard and heavy movement, his voice rough with suppressed nervousness but laced with an undercoat of confidence. He tilted his head slightly to the left, offering you a better angle, his final invitation. "Do your thing."

The weight of his words, the vulnerability in his gesture, sent a jolt through you. Luke's neck, bathed in the warm glow of the fire, looked impossibly inviting, the smooth skin a stark contrast to the dark fabric of his shirt.

Taking a slight breath, you placed a few dollops of whipped cream on the side of his neck. The coldness sent a jolt through him, making him flinch and hiss lowly. A wave of whispers rippled through the group, a mixture of nervous anticipation and excited curiosity.

Luke caught a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye. You tossed your hair to the side, the movement exposing completely one of your shoulders. In that moment, under the watchful gaze of the fire and their friends, he felt himself going faintly insane with a mixture of desire and nervousness.

You leaned closer, the sweet scent of your perfume filling his senses. As you both closed your eyes at the same time, the air crackled with electricity. Your tongue, soft and warm, darted out with boldness. Pulling down on the collar of his shirt to avoid a mess, your other hand flew to the back of his neck, holding him gently in place.

The gentle rasp of your tongue against his skin sent shivers down his spine. It was a slow, deliberate movement, almost reverent, seductive, as you savored the sweetness of the whipped cream and the warmth of his skin beneath it.

Your actions were hot enough for his cock to start hardening against his cargo pants, painfully. But he has to thank the gods for luckily sitting in a position in which he was covering it.

He pressed his lips together, and apparently, that made his friends laugh. He could hear the soft gasps of your breath as you worked your way around the whipped cream blob, the sound echoing in his ears like a siren's song.

Luke felt like a live wire, every nerve ending tingling with awareness. He couldn't believe what was happening. The gentle touch of your lips made him feel as if a hundred ants walked down his spine, his heart thundering in his chest. He was trying so hard to hold back a moan.

He tried to imagine something else, literally anything, but whenever he tried, the only thing he could picture was you with him in his room, pouring whipped cream all over his neck and just licking, like a cat, as he tilted his head back and you bit down on his pulse, you whispered in his ear, you moaned loudly, you let him touch you.

He was a dead man.

Finally, with a satisfied sigh, you pulled away.

"There" you said, your voice barely a whisper. "All clean"

Luke opened his eyes, his gaze lingering on your lips, cherry lip-gloss long gone, as you finished licking off the last bit of your sweet treat. You met his gaze. Neither of you spoke.

A loud cough from Connor broke the spell. "Well, that was..." he began, searching for the right words, "intense."

“Yeah” Chris joined in, suddenly grabbing Clarisse’s hand and turning to her. “Can we do it?”

The moment was broken, the playful environment resuming its place. A wave of laughter washed over the group when the night took an unexpected turn. Soon, the whipped cream became a must along your friends.

Travis´ eyes landed on a weak Lee. The following minutes were filled with chaos and laughter as Travis chased Lee around the nearby trees, whipped cream can in hand, finally managing to catch him and plant a sloppy glob of cream on his neck. Lee's retaliatory attempt at tickling Travis only resulted in both of them collapsing in a heap of loud laughs.

The game continued, couples forming and reforming with each dare. Beckendorf and Connor, fueled by a rivalry, ended up smearing whipped cream on each other's faces, resulting in a food fight of sorts. Silena and Katie shared a non-stop giggly mess as they licked cream off each other's cheeks.

Even Clarisse, despite her initial resistance, found herself cornered by Chris.

By the time everyone´s face was sticky, exhaustion had settled in. As the fire crackled down to embers, casting long shadows across the clearing, everyone decided it was time to head back to their cabins.

The walk back was filled with drunken stumbling and whispered jokes. Silena and Clarisse, whose tolerance for alcohol was notoriously low, were stumbling back to their cabins, supported by their patient friends.

You walked behind them, a smile playing on your lips as you watched the scene unfold, bag of leftovers snacks swinging on your wrist.

Behind you, Luke admired your figure bathed in the soft moonlight filtering through the trees. Your hips, swaying with each step you took, were basically asking him to be grabbed, to be pulled. So did your hair, bouncing and shining on its on and he wondered what it would feel like to have it wrapped around his hand. His mind couldn't help but flash back to the way your tongue had felt, flat and warm, against his skin. It was a sensation that gave him goosebumps even now, a memory that made his brain feel like melted butter.

He also found no way of getting rid of his boner. His pants were a little baggy, and his friends were drunk, but still, he was just walking around camp, with a boner, and the girl that gave it to him was walking just five feet ahead.

His train of thought was abruptly derailed by a booming voice. "Alright, guys" Beckendorf announced, his voice thick with concern, "I think I'm going to take Silena back to my cabin" he turned his head behind him. “She seems a little too excited, actually” he says, as you all watch Silena´s figure almost falling to the ground as she reaches the Hephaestus cabin.

The others murmured agreement, offering sleepy goodbyes and pats on the back. You joined the chorus, your voice a gentle murmur.

Unlike many of the other campers, whose siblings populated Camp Half-Blood year-round, you were one of the few who stayed all year, along with Silena some months. With the winter season in full swing, your cabin stood empty, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the occasional curious critter.

"You alright?" you heard beside you.

Luke, walking next to you now, seemed to pick up on your quiet contemplation. He cast you a sidelong glance, his face unreadable in the dim light.

You pulled a small smile from the corner of your lips. "Yeah, just-, realizing I have the whole cabin to myself tonight."

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

"Well, then" he began, his voice a low rumble, "Want me to walk you there so you don´t go alone?"

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as Luke's offer hung in the air.

"My cabin's not too far away, Luke" you teased, pointing towards a cluster of trees in the distance. A flash of pink peeked through the branches – the lace curtains that adorned the windows. "See? I can practically see it from here. You just really wanna spend more time with me, don't you?"

A faint blush crept up Luke's neck. He wasn't used to being so transparent, especially not around you. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"Then I guess" he stammered, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. "that my company is not wanted?"

You couldn't help but laugh, a melodic sound that echoed through the stillness of the night and ringed inside Luke´s ears. Deep down, you knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. The dare had awakened something inside you, a flicker of something warm and exciting burning in your belly. Looking at Luke now, bathed in the cool moonlight, you saw him differently. The way his hair tousled in the gentle breeze, the way his dark eyes held a depth you hadn't noticed before – it all made your stomach twist and tighten.

You placed both hands on the back pockets of your jeans. “When did I say that?” you ask.

A slow smile spread across Luke's face, mirroring your own. He couldn't deny the truth in your words. This playful back and forth shattered a barrier, revealing a connection neither of you had anticipated. His gaze drifted down to your lips for a second.

You noticed. Just as you noticed his hardened dick hidden inside his pants.

As you continued walking, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft crunch of leaves underfoot. The thought of him, his touch, his nearness, sent a hot wave through your stomach. It wasn't just about his good looks, though you couldn't deny his attractiveness. It was the unexpected intimacy, which was in fact, not so intimate due to your friends’ stares but, it left you with an empty feeling in your chest. It left you wanting more. More about Luke.

And then, it all just made sense.

As you reached the front door of your cabin, you turned around on your feet towards Luke. His eyes were wide and shiny in anticipation, waiting for you to speak. "So," you began, your voice dripping with feigned innocence, "since my company is apparently so delightful, how about you come inside for a bit?"

Luke blinked, surprised by your sudden offer. "Inside?" he echoed.

"You've never even been inside my cabin, have you? Don't you at least a little bit curious about what it looks like?"

You knew your question was a blatant and dirty lie. Luke likely knew the layout of every cabin at Camp Half-Blood, even though it is true that he only took small look from your cabin when the door was open, never fully stepping inside. But it was a way to gauge his interest. You knew how to play.

Luke shifted on his feet, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He wasn't sure if you were serious or just messing with him, but the invitation, whether genuine or not, was tempting. The thought of spending a little more time with you, alone, in the privacy of your cabin, made him think twice.

"Well," he began, his voice rough with well hidden desire, "if you want me to”

The sweet, cloying scent of perfume hit him first, a heady mix of flowers and vanilla that instantly relaxed his nerves. The walls were painted a soft, rosy pink, trimmed with crisp white molding. Pastel blue and green curtains adorned the windows, their gentle hues echoing in the twin beds adorned with pale blue sheets, a stark contrast to the brown bunks of his Hermes cabin.

Instead of the communal sleeping arrangements he was accustomed to, each camper here enjoyed the luxury of their own space. Twin beds stood side-by-side, separated by a blue dresser that boasted a large mirror and neatly organized drawers overflowing with what he could only assume were makeup and beauty products. In the corner, a chest with your name painted in a cheerful font held your personal belongings, and the space above your bed showcased an assortment of pin-ups – Hollywood starts and sultry singers plastered across the wall alongside a few candid photos of your friends, their faces beaming with laughter.

As Luke took in the scene, you walked further into the cabin, the plastic bag of leftover snacks crinkling in your hand. You tossed it onto the bed, rummaging through your chest for a change of clothes.

Suddenly, a small, gushing sound startled you. You looked up to find Luke standing directly in front of your bed, eyes sparkling like a little kid. In his hand, he held the can of leftover whipped cream, a playful white dollop clinging to his finger.

"Really?" you asked, a surprised laugh escaping your lips as you watched him contemplate licking it off. The audacity of the move, the playfulness in his eyes, made your insides twist.

"Don't judge me" he said. "I didn't get to lick it off someone's neck like everyone else did"

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. His words were a playful accusation, but the way he looked at you, the way his gaze lingered on your lips for a beat too long again, it was more than just whipped cream he craved.

You stood up slowly, a smile playing on your lips. Walking towards him, you stopped just out of reach. "Because you didn't want to" you teased, your voice laced with a hint of playing.

Luke met your gaze, his smile fading into a more serious expression. "Honestly, no, I didn't" he admitted, looking down at you from his taller height. "In front of everyone, I mean."

You tilted your head, a knowing smile gracing your features. "Why not?" you pressed, your voice a gentle murmur.

"I was thinking," he began, you immediately catch up on his nervousness, "that maybe... maybe I could do it privately."

A slow smile spread across your face again. “Privately, huh?" you echoed, your voice a teasing murmur. “Who with?"

He scoffed. “Isn´t is obvious?”

A shiver danced down your spine at his words. You couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through you, the delicious anticipation that hung heavy in the air.

With a playful and exaggerated sigh, you sat on your bed, sinking down onto the soft mattress. You look up at him, resting both of your hands behind you, making yourself as comfortable as possible.

He stared down at you, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. He took a second to sit down next to you, the close proximity making your heart beat just a little louder, and the tip of your fingers sweat. The scent of your perfume, a sweet and intoxicating mix, filled his senses.

"Can I?" he asked.

You simply nodded. “Sure” you say. Every fiber of your being was waiting for him to follow in your footsteps, to recreate the intimate touch of your earlier dare.

Bingo.

You were convinced he was going for the same part of your body that you did on his, but instead, you felt the coolness of his fingertips against your skin as he gently pulled down the collar of your tank top, exposing the delicate curve of your collarbone and the top part of your breast.

A gasp escaped your lips as the coolness of the whipped cream hit your skin. Without missing a beat, Luke took tossed the can aside and, mimicking your earlier action, swiped his tongue across the exposed skin.

The cold sensation of the whipped cream mingled with the warmth of his touch, sending a shiver down your spine. You closed your eyes, savoring the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

His movements were slow and deliberate, his tongue tracing a lazy path across your skin. It was a stark contrast to the playful swipe you'd given him earlier, a wet touch that made both of you, very clearly, what this whole thing was about.

A soft moan escaped your lips, barely audible but undeniably present. Luke's breath hitched at the sound, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp nip on your collarbone. Luke had bitten down slightly, the sensation sending a confusing feeling towards your chest.

"Gods, Luke, that's-" you gasped, the word dying on your lips as a wave of pleasure washed over you when his teeth grazed over it again. You didn't even care to finish your sentence, too lost in the whirlwind of emotions his touch ignited.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through you. He licked off the last bit of the sweet treat from your skin, mimicking the way you'd cleaned him earlier.

"There" he said, his voice thick with mockery. "All clean."

You stared at him, your eyes glazed over with a desire that mirrored his own. You felt like a wild animal, unleashed and untamed. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your breath coming in ragged gasps from your parted lips. Your collarbone glistened with saliva, a testament to the intimacy you'd just shared.

You couldn't take it anymore.

You smashed your lips against his in a hungry kiss. It was a kiss unlike any you'd ever experienced, raw and desperate, fueled by the tension that had been building between you all night.

Luke, caught off guard for a moment, quickly responded, his kiss turning passionate and possessive. He slipped one hand behind your back, pressing you closer, the other finding its way into your hair, tilting your head for a deeper kiss.

You tangled your fingers in the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you as you fell onto the bed. He followed willingly, his body hovering over yours. That dare. That fucking dare. It had morphed into something far more intense, a stolen moment of passion that threatened to consume you both.

The taste of whipped cream was there, with the heat of his kiss, a bizarre yet strangely intoxicating combination. Your senses were on fire, your body yearning for more. You reached up, your fingers tracing the planes of his face, memorizing the feel of his strong jawline, the slight stubble that brushed against your skin.

As the kiss deepened, his hand found its way under your shirt, sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. You gasped, a mixture of surprise and delight at his touch.

Your response was immediate when he started to graze his fingertips down your spine. You arched your back into his touch, a wordless plea for more. When he reached to your lower back, he grabbed your hip and pulled you impossibly closer to his body.

You felt his boner pocking on your inner thigh. You wondered how many hours he just spent with his dick painfully hardened, because you don’t really remember how many hours have passed since you chose dare as an option.

Your hands were quick to start pulling Luke’s shirt over his head. He only stopped kissing you to fully remove it and toss it to the ground, lips slamming against yours once again. He held a tight and possessive grab at your jaw, he didn’t want to let go of you.

The tip of his fingers trailed down your neck, your collarbone, a slow path down your body and over the fabric until his finger hooked your jeans, using a single had to get rid of the button, and quickly making it disappear along with his shirt.

“Why are you wearing this?” his voice had gone lower, his throat dry. He looked perfect like this, lips glistening with your saliva, hair messy and a finger hooked on the side of your light pink laced thong.

You couldn’t help but roam your eyes down his torso. The many years of training gifted him with a toned and well-worked body. His veins popped out with ease, starting on his biceps and getting more and more noticeable on his hands, manly, big and rough hands. You bit down on your lip for a moment, fingers tracing down his abdomen, he hissed at your cold fingers against his heated skin.

“It’s just my underwear, Luke” you explain. “Don’t like it?”

Instead of answering, the hand that was holding onto your tiny peace of underwear started trailing up your torso, flat against your stomach and all the way up to your sternum. He felt the soft fabric of your bra and gave you a lopsided smile. “I’m just hoping that this is matching”

And he got rid of your tank top. And it was, in fact, a matching set.

Luke couldn’t help but think that maybe you planned it all. Your cute lacy matching set, the empty cabin, the game. His mind started to race, circuits inside his brain working like a machine.

He hovered over your body again, trailing kisses around your neck. You moaned at the first one since he immediately found your sweet spot on the right side of it, goosebumps all the way from your skull to the bottom of your spine. “Was this all-, some plan of yours?” he asked, rushed voice and breaths coming out in gasps as he started to suck on your neck.

You giggled. “No, it wasn’t. But I was hoping for it-, oh” you moaned, pulling on his hair when he released his suck on your skin with a bop, but you felt his fingers trail up your inner thigh, knuckles brushing against your heated core.

“How?” he asked, slow and painfully teasing movements against your panties, occasionally focusing too much on your clit, making you gasp a little louder as you gripped on his bicep.

“I might have read all the cards earlier” you begin. “And I might have asked Silena to get me some whip cream with your cabin. Just in case I got to-, to do it with you. That’s why I wanted you to sit next to me”

Luke chuckled lowly, beads from his necklace tickling the skin on the base of your neck. “So it was a plan”

“No” you shrug off, feeling his lips against your neck again, sucking greedily. “I just, I wanted it. But I wasn’t sure it was gonna happen. I didn’t know this was gonna happen either”

Luke enjoyed so much the way you couldn’t even speak without letting out a moan or two in every sentence. He felt the fabric of your underwater getting wetter by the second. He listened to you and replied with little “hm’s” as if it was a casual conversation; a conversation in which you had him in your bed, almost naked, as he left bruises down your neck and you had his fingers teasing your entrance, hips rolling against his touch.

“You’re evil” he says. But it’s not you who’s touching him so boldly. It’s not you who leaves him wanting more, it’s not you who teases. But him.

So you let your hand make its way to his cargo pants, slipping past them and his boxers, directly going for his cock. A strangled moan escaped his lips, followed by his chest heaving up and down, surprised by your sudden movement. It felt hot against your hand, hot and heavy and you knew, that it was the hardest Luke has even been.

Your cupped hid balls just for a moment before you started to slowly ascent, finally reaching for his tip. Your fingers wrapped around his length and your thumb started torturous circles around his sensitive head. He sucked in his stomach constantly as you touched him, momentarily forgetting about your pleasure, but you enjoyed this a lot more.

“You really don’t want me to be evil, Luke” you say. “I could be evil and just stand up and make you walk to your cabin, or not letting you fuck me. But I’m not, ‘cause I really wanna feel you inside me, Luke. I really want you”

He let out a long and shaky breath full of relief when you started to bob your hand up and down, and that encouraged him to pull your thong aside, fingers teasing at your entrance. Your own breath came shaky as well when a single finger entered you.

Luke shook his head. “You’re so fucking wet” he pants. He didn’t even touched you properly and you were soaking his finger, lips glistening in your own arousal and leaving a wet patch on your pink underwear. “I need to taste you, doll. Please”

Your chest shakes when you laugh. You think it’s so cute that even though he has a finger buried inside you, your hand wrapped around his cock as you pump him slowly, he still says please, he still asks.

“Do whatever you want to me, Luke. I’m yours tonight”

That’s all the needed to hear. You let go of your hot grip as he steadies himself on your bed. But his hand reaches for something beside him, next to his calve. He brings the whip cream out again. “Can I try something?” he asks.

And how could you say no to his face?

You hold your breath when he leaves little balls of whip cream down your abdomen. You figure it’s empty now, because Luke throws it carelessly to the ground, a soft thud against the carpet on the side of your bed.

He holds your waist steady when you squirm slightly, as if you were about to run away from him. He glances at you for a second, his eyes, dark and dominant, basically telling you to not move a single inch. The plain sight of him, looking at you like that, while his big hands are gripped on your sides, only made you wetter.

He lowers his head to the first blob, tongue agonizingly slow as he only takes the very tip. You whine, you want him to touch you more, you want him to kiss you everywhere, to lick you everywhere, but he only makes it seems like a torture when he stops his movements.

“The more you complain, the more time I’ll take” he said. You nodded to his words, closing your eyes as you tried your best to patiently wait for him to start again.

Soon, you felt his tongue against your skin. This was so much better than your cleavage, so much hotter. You felt his teeth teasing you, attempting to bite but then pulling again, licking the last bit of whip cream before moving down to the next blob. By the time he reached under your belly button, you let out little gasps as his hands massage your inner thighs, dangerously close to your cunt.

He’s not directly touching you, but you feel the arousal getting ticker, and how close Luke’s breath was now to you, so hot and dry. You felt like dripping, even though you weren’t, but you were surely more than ready for whatever it is that he wanted to do to you.

It feels like heaven to him when he finally gets to taste you. He pushed his own head deeper in between your thighs as he groans, as if what he’s getting is not enough. Your high pitched moans fill his ears when his tongue starts slow, little kitten licks over your clit, too soft to even consider them as licks, but it has you squirming and grinding your hips down onto his face, pulling at his curls and asking him for more.

Oh, your sweet pleas. Your moans. Luke feels like a mad man as he start to gently rut his hips against your mattress. And to this point, he’s completely gone in you, too drunk to even care about how loud you were being, how hard he was eating you out, how if someone even tried to walk past your cabin, they’ll hear.

But maybe this is just what he wanted too. He didn’t know how long has it been since he realized he wanted to fuck your brains out, but he always cared about everything too. Where could it be, in a place where no one could see you, how he’d have to cover your mouth to stop you from moaning and letting the others hear you, how he had to pull his dick out slowly and put it back in at the same speed because he knew that if he did it too hard, he’ll become a mess. But he didn’t give a fuck about those things now. He finally had you as he wanted you, why in the world would he care about all those stupid things now?

In fact, he encouraged you. “Don’t hide those pretty noises from me, baby” he panted. “Let me hear you”

He was drooling. He couldn’t help it. You tasted so deliciously sweet, and not because of the whip cream leftovers on his mouth. Yes, it did change things a bit but, he knew how to distinguish what was artificial and what was you. And he loved you. He loved how you couldn’t stop coating his lips with your juices, how your arousal mixed with his saliva and dripped down your ass and onto the sheets.

He never enjoyed a meal so much.

“Luke, wait” you say, pulling at his curls but he only leaned into you more, nose bumping against your clit as his tongue remains inside you. “Luke, I’m gonna cum, wait”

“Then cum” he lifted his head as fast as possible when he heard your words. “Do it, baby.” He noticed the way your thighs were shaking, soothing them down with the palm of his hands.

You shook your head. “No, no” you whine. “I wanna do it while you fuck me, Luke. Please? It’ll feel so good, please”

Luke was starstruck. Oh, how the tables have turned. And how he turned you around too.

You still laid in bed, faced down onto the mattress. Luke had placed a pillow under your hips, ass in the air as he placed himself over you, one knee on each side of your legs. The shaking on your legs had stopped, but Luke noticed how excited you were, how even though you were so fucked up, how a white and sticky mess covered your inner thighs and how your whole body was glistening with sweat, you still managed to crack a smile to yourself as you bit your thumb.

You were driving him crazy. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to look at another’s girl’s face after you. You had him wrapped around your finger and you knew it, and you were just so mean about it, patiently waiting for him to fuck you as he pumps himself a few times, cock harder than it’ll ever be again and his tip leaking with precum.

He placed himself in your entrance, slowly rubbing it up and down your folds, and pushing himself into you at an agonizing pace. His tip was quickly covered in you, glistening with a mix of his saliva and your juices. He tried his best to not let any drop go to waste, getting absorbed by your sheets.

“You wanted my cock, didn’t you, doll?” he asks, pushing himself into you faster than you expected, a loud gasp scraping from your throat. “Then take it”

Your hands instantly reached for the sheets on your sides due to his fast pace, that took the air out of your lungs and started a racing heartbeat inside you, your knuckles quickly turning white as your nails digging into them, but Luke took them both, pushing your wrists together behind your back and holding them there. He used your hands to push himself deeper every time, rock harder, faster.

You were decent enough to muffle your moans in your sheets, but Luke could still hear them mixing with his owns; low grunts, loud gasps and hitched breaths. He had to close his eyes many times to prevent himself from cumming, because what a sight did he have under him.

Your cunt, shiny and coated with a white creamy consistent was sucking him in even when he pulled out. You were so greedy for him. Your walls tightened around him and wanted him to stay there, still, but the rocking of his hips and the gushing sounds of your pussy as he pounded into you was too good to let it pass.

He loved the sound. He loved how you were much wetter inside, making himself feel as if he was pounding into the tiniest and warmest hole ever, creaming his cock and not wanting for him to ever pull out and leave.

He suddenly lowered his body to yours, one hand letting go off his grip to pull your hair aside. “You say you’re mine tonight” he repeated your words in your ear. Your back arched unconsciously, ass slamming back into his cock. “Nah, baby. You’re mine forever”

He let go of your hands, only to place one hand on your throat, pulling you slightly back to him, his fingers squeezing on your sides. Your moans quickly became quite as you tried your best to breathe, but you loved it so much you didn’t even attempt to remove his hand from you.

“You’re all mine, yn” he panted. “Mine. This body,” he gripped on your waist with his free hand, “this pussy, those lips” a ghost of his thumb brushed your bottom lip, pulling down on it. “Mine. Mine. Mine”

He slammed his hips against you repeatedly. You didn’t know when exactly, but you came, and Luke felt it too when the consistent that ringed around the base of his cock became more and more noticeable. And it didn’t take him long to do the same.

He collapsed over your body as you finally gasped for air. You coughed slightly, tears forming on the corner of your eyes but quickly drying out.

“I’m sorry” he said, sliding off you and laying next to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah-,” you laugh “Yeah, I’m-, wow”

That made him laugh. His arm wrapped around your waist as he placed a tender kiss on your cheek. His hands then started to run down your hair, all the way down to your lower back. You close your eyes at the feeling, only momentarily opening them to see something red in between your clothes, shining carelessly to the moonlight from your window.

You reach down to grab the empty can. “We should get another one of these” you say.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo series #pjo #pjo smut #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x you #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines #aphrodite

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k-hotchoisan · 4 months

Text

from the back

part two of 🔥to the side🔥

where Wooyoung finally gets to fuck you so good

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs

Genre/Warnings: pervDILF!Wooyoung, smut, sexual tension, backshots, dirty talk, cream pies, orgasms, alcohol consumption, Wooyoung drinks but he keeps it within the limit because he’s driving y/n home (please do not drink and drive)

Needless to say, you were holding up pretty well, despite the countless times you squeezed your thighs when Wooyoung’s hands slid too close to your cunt. It was still driving you crazy from how full you felt. Your plate was half cleared, because half of the time the feeling of how full your cunt is with Wooyoung’s cum made you want to just spread your legs and let his cum leak all over out of your pussy and onto your thighs and chair. Maybe you’d beg Wooyoung for forgiveness for letting his cum spill out of your poor pussy, and let Wooyoung breed you so full, over and over again until he was satisfied.

Fuck. It was driving you nuts. Alcohol was served during the dinner, and even without it, you felt your face flush.

Your thighs are still tightly pressed against each other from the feeling of his cum just ready to pour out of you if you made any sudden movements. It doesn’t help that Wooyoung has his eyes on you—watching you like a hawk. He’s good at keep his face neutral and poker, almost perfectly nonchalant as he takes a sip of water. You stand up, feeling your thighs shake slightly. Screw this. You decide to go to the kitchen for a breather. It’s the only reasonable place to escape to for now. Not mention, it was big as fuck anyway, no one would know if you hid in the balcony for a breath of fresh air.

Wooyoung casts you a side glance, deeply and sickeningly satisfied that you’re squirming because of him. But in all honesty, he plays the facade very well, because he knows, given any moment if he were to be stuck with you alone, god knows what the fuck he would do to you.

And when you’re missing for a few long minutes it’s when he decides to take the gamble. Nonetheless he was quite concerned that you’ve been missing in the kitchen for a while. Even your friend noticed.

“Where’s y/n?” She asks, swirling the wine glass in her hand, casting glances around the table when she finally realises that you’re missing.

Her brother is about to stand but Wooyoung is quick. He cuts his nephew off, taking his niece’s words cue to go off and find you. “I’ll go get her”, Wooyoung says coolly.

He plasters a smile at his nephew as he gently pushes him down back to his seat. “Enjoy the dinner. Your plate still looks pretty full.”

You hear footsteps approaching behind and your back immediately straightens, well, barely because you’re still feeling all over the place right now. You expect it to be your friend, but when you turn and your eyes land on Wooyoung with his loose polo shirt, a hand in his trousers and the other holding his wine glass. The sight is just making your face heat up even more.

“Are you doing okay?” He asks, joining you at the kitchen balcony. You can’t meet his eyes. You think you’d just combust if you did.

“Barely”, you reply, biting back another moan when you feel his cum about to seep past your folds again. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Wooyoung.

Wooyoung is insanely horny but he isn’t stupid. At least, not yet, he thinks. He would gladly take you right here and then, but he knows he’d enjoy it even more if he had you confined within his walls instead of here. He’s also not in the mood to ruin a happy occasion and a family relationship. At least, not yet.

“A little longer, darling”, he says, almost in a whisper. “Good girls get rewards.”

“Stop teasing me”, you pout, giving him a light slap on his shoulder. Wooyoung only laughs.

You glance at the glass he has in his hands. “Aren’t you driving? You shouldn’t drink too much.”

Wooyoung lifts the glass in his hand higher and tilts his head. “It’s my first glass for the night, and I’m not planning to down another.” He takes a step dangerously close to you. “Wouldn’t want to miss my plans with you later too. We’ll leave when I squeeze your thigh.”

Red flushes on your cheeks again, and you break eye contact, only for Wooyoung to shift your glance right back at him with a single flick of his wrist on your jaw.

“Uncle, what are you doing?” The voice snaps the trance the both of you were in. Your eyes dart to the intruder, who stands with crossed arms, staring daggers at the both of you.

Wooyoung doesn’t falter. He shoots his nephew a glance and slowly releases his fingers from your jaw and smiles curtly at his nephew.

“Just making sure she doesn’t throw up”, he replies, knowing that your eyes are widened and glaring daggers at Wooyoung. He turns back to you, amused by your expression before he messed your hair with his hands. “Let’s go”, he gestures to the both of you. He doesn’t miss his nephew furrowing his eyebrows, so he plays it off by messing his hair up to, and your friend’s brother running off after his uncle, berating him about messing his hair that he took hours to style. You release an exhale. You’re in the clear, at least for now.

It’s not evident to the rest of the dinner table except you, that Wooyoung is getting irritated by the way your friend’s brother keeps trying to get your attention, and that only makes you friend satisfied, as she only eggs him on to openly flirt with you.

Throughout the dinner, Wooyoung keeps topping up the other male’s wine, and he observes the way his nephew progressively gets more tipsy, encouraging him to have more since he was back in the country.

Midway through the conversations, you feel a gentle squeeze on your thigh. You glance over at Wooyoung who’s laughing at something his brother is saying. His hand trails higher up your thigh.

“I think I’ll take my leave now”, you say, slowly standing up. “Thank you for the dinner.” You walk over to your friend who gives you a tight hug.

“How are you going home? By cab? I’d ask my brother to send you home but Uncle Wooyoung made him drink quite a bit.”

Before you answer, Wooyoung cuts in, “I can send her back safely.”

Your friend’s father raises an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to stay a little longer?”

Wooyoung shakes his head with a smile. He goes over and gives his niece a hug before he hand hovers over the small of your back, as he leads you out of the estate.

The car ride back felt agonisingly slow. The anticipation was just surging through your veins, and evidently leaked into the atmosphere in the car with Wooyoung. Wooyoung still keeps his soft and light tone when he talks to you in the car, but it’s obvious he’s at his limit, especially from the way he’s gripping the steering wheel with force.

The moment you step in his penthouse, his fingers intertwine with yours, and your jaw drops at how fucking huge his place is for a singular person to reside in. His hand is warm against yours and you wonder what he’s thinking.

He leads you to his bedroom, and when the door shuts, Wooyoung immediately has you pressed against the shut door, trapping you with his body as he tilts your chin to face him.

“Fucking hell. I think I’ve waited long enough”, he hisses before he dives in for a messy kiss. You let yourself be claimed by him, raising your arms to let Wooyoung pull your clothing off your body, letting him admire at your bare chest. You feel like you’re at your limit from the way Wooyoung is teasing you—his hands tugging your pants off, but he doesn’t touch you there just yet. But he leads you over to his bed, letting you fall onto his plush bed.

“Look at your panties. Ruined by yours truly,” Wooyoung hums, tugging the piece of pink clothing, completely stained dark with cum and fluids, now almost transparent. When your panties are finally removed, a drawn out whine echoes around the room, your head throws back, and Wooyoung watches in breathlessly as his cum leaks out of you, load by load, listening to you moan in relief.

“I’ve been good. Kept your cum in my pussy like a good girl”, you whine, tugging against your wet folds, thighs twitching as Wooyoung’s cum continues to spill out of your hole. Wooyoung plunges two fingers into you, pushing his cum back into your pussy, and it makes you flex your abdomen from the pleasure.

He smiles.

“Indeed you have, darling. So well-behaved”, he hums, as his hand brushes against your cheek, swallowing hard when you lean your face into it, staring at him with kitten eyes.

He’s so fucking weak for that. So he pushes his fingers deeper in you, drinking every single fucked out expression you wear. Oh god, he wants to break you so bad. Wooyoung’s fingers press against your g-spot, and your hands clasp onto his veiny, muscled arm, as you jerk with a gasp. Wooyoung tilts his head back slightly, and he wears a smirk when he feels you clench around his fingers.

Then he curls his fingers in you as he finger fucks you, making sure he draws out every dirty moan out of you.

“Wooyoung! Oh fuck. Right there”, your hands slip off his arm, back now completely on his bed letting yourself succumb to the pleasure.

“I know, baby. Feels good doesn’t it?” Wooyoung coos, watching your body jerk from the pleasure. “Look at you, fucking yourself on my fingers too”, he teases. And he’s right—you don’t realise when you even let your hips snap against his wet fingers, but at this point, shame is the last thing you’re worrying about.

The feeling builds so dangerously quick that soon enough, you completely let go, letting your jaw hang open as your orgasm hits, your cunt fluttering and your mind flooded with dopamine as moans leak out of your mouth freely like your cum.

“That’s it”, he encourages, applying light pressure on your clit with his thumb, feeling you convulse around him. “Good girl. Cum on my fingers like that. Dirty them for me just like that.” Your eyes are shut, your mind completely turned into mush.

Wooyoung pulls his fingers out of you slowly, watching the way your eyes slowly open as you catch your breath. At that moment is when you catch the way Wooyoung is eyeing you down, licking your glistening release from his fingers.

“Fuck me, darling. If I had known you tasted this good, I would have stolen the panties you keep in your little friend’s room when I came over for dinners”, Wooyoung sighs.

“Pervert”, you mutter, although the thought of him rubbing his cock onto the fabric, making it as wet and as dirty as possible, and leaving his cum stains all over your pretty little panties makes your cunt flutter.

“No better than you are, darling”, he shoots you back playfully when he watches your cheeks turn red, as he inches closer to you onto his bed, capturing your lips with his.

And you completely surrender to him, melting into the kiss that tasted more than just desire and lust. Wooyoung’s hands slide to the back of your neck to pull you as physically close to him as possible.

You pull back, breathless a few seconds later, a small prick blooming in your heart as the reminder that this man is your friend’s uncle sticking out like sore thumb at the back of your hand. You knew it was wrong to do this to your friend. What would happen if she found out then? What kind of repercussions would there be? Wooyoung senses the slight shift, and has his hands cup your cheek, and your eyes focus on his handsome face again.

“What are you distracted about, darling?” He asks, concern reflected in his expression. “Do you want to stop?”

You shake your head instinctively. “It’s just.…”

“-that I’m your friend’s relative?”

You bite your lip.

“But we’re both consenting adults, aren’t we? I can’t help it if every time I see you, I just want to make sure that you’re only looking at me.”

Oh gods, he was making your head spin.

“It’s just that it’s making me have a lot of thoughts”, you mutter, your hands toying with the bedsheets. Wooyoung plants a firm kiss behind your ear, before he leans into you and whispers, “then I’ll fuck the thoughts right out of you darling”, Wooyoung assures with smile, then he turns you over, now your stomach on the mattress. You hear him unbuckle his trousers, and your heart beats in your ears.

“I’ll take good care of you. I can definitely promise that”, he assures, letting his hands run down your sides, leaving goosebumps across your skin. He gives the nape of your neck a kiss before you feel his very hard erection pressing against the curve of your ass. You can’t see it but his cock is just wet with precum, but you hear the sounds he makes as he strokes himself before he presses his cockhead at your entrance.

Then he slides his cock in, inch by inch, so fucking good that you’re gasping and drooling. His cock fits in you so well, and even though he fucked you just hours before, he feels so different now.

“You’re so fucking thick. Fuck”, you curse, your eyebrows scrunched. Wooyoung chuckles behind you, trying to hold his composure as he watches your pussy stretch perfectly to accommodate him, as he sinks deeper into you. It doesn’t take long till he’s completely in you, and you’re drawing shallow breaths from how full you feel, his cock just resting in you.

“Gonna move now, darling”, he says, giving your ass a soft squeeze before he pulls back and thrusts in again, and a squeal leaves your lips. He’s definitely fucking every single thought out of you tonight, and you weren’t about to complain.

Every time his hips slam into you, you grow slightly light headed from the pleasure. Wooyoung has his hands grabbing your hips as he fucks you into the mattress, groaning himself as he watches you fuck his cock. “Fuck. You’re so fucking perfect, baby”, he groans, watching you swallow his cock in once more.

“So good. Keep fucking me like that, Wooyoungie”, you cry, feeling his cock grow bigger in you.

“That’s a cute nickname you’re giving me”, he smirks, biting back another moan when he feels you clench around him again. “I swear you’re gonna make me cum at this rate with how cute you’re acting.”

“Then do it. You promised me right?” You pout, and then jerk with your eyes rolled back when his cockhead presses onto your g-spot again. Wooyoung swears you could drive him insane just with the shit you say.

His cock twitches in you and another soft moan escapes from you.

“I’m cumming, baby. Fuck”, Wooyoung curses as he forcefully shuts his eyes, white spots splattering beneath his eyelids and cum filling you up again. You whimper softly as he fills you up, fisting the bedsheets beneath you as your body shakes. You could get addicted to this, you swear.

You almost lose feeling in your lower body, but Wooyoung catches you, littering your neck with more kisses once more before he sits you on his lap.

That’s when you realise—he’s still fucking hard. His cock is still covered in a sheer white layer of cum. His hands slide up and down your thighs, giving them squeezes.

“Sit on my dick, baby. You know you want to”, he coaxes, assisting you in lifting your hips over his cock. You’re completely entranced by Wooyoung’s expression and you slowly sink onto his cock—he looks as fucked out as you are, and so fucking beautiful. He sucks his teeth at the sensation of being deeper into your warm, cum-filled pussy.

“One more load to go, baby”, Wooyoung hums as he cups your breasts, giving them circular licks with his tongue, making your cunt leak another layer of fresh slick once more. Your arms wrap around his neck, tugging against his hair as he licks and sucks your nipples.

“Wooyoung, please-“ you cry out, only to be ignored as he switches to the other nipple, making sure he stimulates you to his liking. He finally pulls back, licking his lips. His eyes are glazed out, fucking horny from the feeling that he’s seated inside you, sensitive and overstimulated.

And when you start bouncing on his cock, his jaw slacks, his fingers finding yours to intertwine with. “So fucking good. You’re so warm baby. Oh my fucking god”, he groans, squeezing your hand. This position granted easier access to your g-spot and Wooyoung watches you wordlessly as you chase the feeling of his cockhead hitting that perfect spot over and over again.

“Gonna cum. Your cock feels so good, Wooyoungie,” you whimper, at one point pushing your hips down and slightly grinding to have his cockhead just rub against your g-spot, which evidently drives Wooyoung up the wall when he throws his head back and lifts his hips by instinct.

When he barely gains an ounce of rationale, he moans, “cum all over my cock, baby. Oh fuck. Such a good fucking girl you are for me.” And you do, clamping against his cock as your orgasm hits you for the second time, with Wooyoung holding your thighs down, watching you squirm and twitch as your orgasm sends you into a fucking orbit. Wooyoung can’t help but cum in you once more when the feeling of your pussy fluttering around him, which causes you to squeal and lift yourself off his cock, cum and fluids just trickling out of your abused hole and onto Wooyoung’s cock.

You don’t have time to react before Wooyoung cups you by your jaw and brings you in for a steamy kiss again, his hand snaking around your ass to give it a good squeeze before he lets go.

His eyes are as blown out as yours are, but he still manages to ask, “you doing good, darling?”

You nod, combing his wet bangs back, the both of you catching your breaths from your high.

“Time for a shower, baby”, Wooyoung says, lifting you off him completely, before he takes your hand in his to lead you to the bathroom.

Wooyoung’s arms are curled around your waist and he buries his nose into your neck, breathing deeply at the fact that you smell like his shampoo. It almost makes him horny again. Almost.

The thought of your friend and her brother pops into your brain again, but gets muddled when you hear Wooyoung groan softly before he gets pulled into slumber.

Well, that’ll be a problem for another day when Wooyoung comes around to your friend’s house. But you make a mental note to keep more pretty panties over for Wooyoung to steal the next round.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #Wooyoung #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung x reader #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung

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coryosbaby · 4 months

Text

SENSITIVE . Luke Castellan x fem! Reader

Content warning . Broken bones and submissive Luke <3

Whenever someone uses a word to describe Luke Castellan, it’s always this: strong.

He’s the greatest swordsman in camp, after all. He puffs out his chest and slathers his aura in pride, outdoing every opponent.

Except for when it comes to you.

He’s— well, Luke is a sensitive boy. No one knows that, of course, except for you.

He shows his true self, now, on a rainy night in your cabin. Many campers have gone to dinner, and Luke had decided to stay back with you, curled up in your bed.

“(Y/N),” he whines, as you finish your night routine with a drastic slowness. “It hurts.”

You almost roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s antics as you lather on a bit of moisturizer. After a long trip and fall down a flight of stairs—ironic, really, considering his stealthiness— the boy had broken his hand. A small cast is wrapped around it, little phrases that you and other peers had written into it rainbow in color.

“You’re being dramatic.”

His lips form into a pout.

“‘M not,” he replies. His unbroken hand pats the empty spot beside him. “Come here, baby. I miss you.”

You can’t help the tug in your chest at his sweet tone. You do the last steps of your routine, sighing as you move out of your vanity chair and slide onto your silky pink sheets.

“C’mere, you big baby.”

He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you bring him into your embrace, letting him wrap his big arms around you.

“You smell nice,” he compliments, humming. “Like a pretty flower.”

You giggle. His fingers move up to play with your hair.

“And your hair is so pretty. I love it. And your eyes…”

“Are you saying this because you feel sentimental, or because you want me to make out with you?”

“Both.”

You scoff, pulling him in for a kiss. He reciprocates eagerly, and before you know it his tongue slides warm and wet into your mouth. His hand moves up to your tits, softly groping.

And when you look down, you realize why he’s so clingy. A small smirk spreads across your lips.

“I think you need a little bit of help, sweet boy.”

His cheeks, a dusty pink, turn even darker now. You take in the sight of the large bulge straining against his zipper. He lets out a nervous chuckle, though it doesn’t do much to stifle his nerves. His broken hand still stays trembling underneath your own.

“You don’t have to,” he replies, averting his gaze from you. “I’m not.. I mean.. I can’t—”

“I know.”

You don’t need to say anything else. Your palm splays out over his hardened cock, and he whines, a tiny breathless thing in the back of his throat that makes your panties soak with wetness.

“Mommy,” he utters. “I need your hands,” And then, bordering on a choked sob, “Please? I’ll be good, I swear…”

Oh, it’s so easy to get him worked up. So, so incredibly easy.

You hum, flicking the zipper of his jeans up and down playfully. His brunette locks are turned up and disheveled, and it’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

“Poor baby. It’s been a long time since you’ve touched yourself, hasn’t it ? Four, maybe five days?”

That was the last time he had fucked you, the day he had broken his hand. Your schedules were both so busy that neither of you had time to do anything since. Luke’s eyebrows press together, and a pout forms on his lips as he nods in confirmation. You press a kiss to his jaw, then another. He’s wearing the cologne you like, and a shirt you had once said looked particularly good on him. He had made his way into your room asking for this, you’re sure. He was asking to get all worked up and get you to handle it.

He just wants mommy’s attention, doesn’t he?

You pull his fly down, much to his excitement, a “thank you” falling sweetly off of his soft lips. Pushing his underwear down, his hardened cock slaps up to its fullest attention against his stomach. His balls are drawn up tight above the fabric of his briefs, full and ready to be emptied.

Oh, how worked up the poor thing is. Wet like a girl, cock dripping pre cum and the tip flushed an almost deep scarlett. He’s well endowed, much to your pleasure.

Giving his tip a teasing flick with two of your fingers, you watch as his eyes shut tight and he moans. It sounds precious, a choir full of angels singing. You wish you could hear it over and over again.

He isn’t looking at you, now, and that makes you annoyed. Your hand slaps his length and he lets out a pained yelp.

“Eyes on me. Do you understand?”

His bottom lip wobbles. A sensitive boy he is, despite his usually hard and cold demeanor, and his mommy’s disapproval makes him want to cry. He nods, his teary eyes staring deep into your own as you spit into your palm and take him into your hand.

You start by thumbing over his tip, rubbing softly into his slit. Watching his breathing increase and the way his head tilts back is absolutely enticing.

“Is that good, baby?” You ask softly. He nods eagerly, his hand shaking in his lap. He tries not to clench his broken fist together but that proves difficult, and he lets out a pained cry when he presses down on it. You coo to him, almost mocking, as you snake your arm behind his back and take the cast into your free hand.

“Don’t hurt yourself, okay? Just hold on to me,” your voice is a purr in the shell of his ear. “Need my boy big and strong again.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, his voice high pitched and whiny. “Yeah, mommy, yeah…”

Your hand wraps around the fullness of his length, twisting with a flick of your wrist. His forehead bumps against yours as his open mouth tries to land on your lips. You think he’s trying to kiss you, and it’s absolutely endearing. He can’t help but desperately shove his tongue into the warm confines of your mouth. You giggle at that, pulling him in for a sloppy, wet kiss.

When your lips leave his, it’s so you can bite and suckle pretty marks onto his neck. You lave over the reddish bites, humming as you cover his throat in them.

Other women at camp, be damned. He’s yours.

It isn’t long, with a gasping mouth and fluttering lashes, that he’s close.

“I’m gonna cum,” Luke murmurs, sugary sweet. “I’m g-gonna… momma, momma..”

He buries his face in your neck, salty tears pressing into your skin, and his cock spurts rope after rope of warm, sticky spend all over your hand. You watch with a smile, pressing a kiss into his hair as he fucks his hips up and mewls against you. Your heart flutters at the sound, your body on fire just from watching him come undone.

He sighs when you milk the last few remnants of cum from his spent cock. His curls stick to his forehead, sweat dripping down his brow. What a sight.

You find Luke’s shirt somewhere on the floor and wipe your hand on it. His nose crinkles up.

“That’s gross.”

Rolling your eyes and trying not to smile, you sit down beside him again.

“It’s your mess, Luke.”

He shrugs, his hand going up to push your hair out of your face. He gives you a pretty, lopsided smile. You kiss the scar underneath his eye, and his eyes cloud over again.

Always so sensitive.

He lays down on the bed, signaling you over. His lips find yours again, chaste but still nice, and when he’s using free hand to make you straddle his face, a gasp emits from you.

“Luke. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“Want to,” he murmurs, sliding your panties to the side. “You took care of me, momma. Let me take care of you.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#why is this the most tame shit I’ve wrote in weeks #Luke Castellan #Luke Castellan x reader #Luke Castellan x fem! reader #Luke Castellan smut #Luke Castellan fanfic #Luke Castellan blurb #Luke Castellan Drabble #sub! Luke Castellan #dom! reader #Luke pjo #pjo #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson series #Percy Jackson show #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the lightning thief

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queenendless · 7 months

Text

😷🤒Sick Day(Adult!SatoSugu x Sick!Fem!Reader)🤒😷

A/N: Yep this is part of that SatoSugu Teacher AU alongside Moving Day and Nights.

Also, announcement. I have smut writing fatigue after just putting out one and I'm down with a cold right now. So that vampire AU gang bang piece is happening next month. I'm so sorry for this yall. Thanks though to everyone who commented on that and helped me decide.

But I will hopefully be posting a JJK Halloween piece to make up for it. A headcannon/ imagined scenario where the JJK cast celebrate Halloween with my ideal fave pairings in couples costumes and such in this what if AU. And yas it gonna be SatoSugu x Fem or GN reader, idk on that part yet.

All credit for JJK and its characters goes to the madman that is Gege.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy!

Your throat feels raw.

Your nose feels stuffy.

And you kept coughing every few minutes.

You should have figured spotting a curse forming from a virus epidemic happening in the hotel across the street would pose a high ass risk of getting infected yourself.

But as a Window, it was your job, as life risking as it was.

The more people inside and around the building got infected, the Grade 4 grew closer to Grade 3. If it kept up, dozens upon hundreds would die.

"Ijichi-san. Disease curse. Transitioning from Grade 4 to Grade 3. Requesting sorcerer help here immediately." You struggled speaking over the phone as you kept coughing, dispatching the address to him, seeing the revolting curse grow in size as its toxic presence spilled, tripping as you tried keeping your distance.

Your head was pounding and you could barely focus as Ijichi-san panicked on his end.

"L/n-san!? L/N-SAN!"

In a moment of ailment, you dropped your phone, causing it to disconnect from the impact.

You were barely able to keep a grip on your phone or walk without faltering as you felt more drained with each passing moment. You blinked a lot as you tried staying alert, stumbling before collapsing against a parked empty vehicle on the street, sliding down to your bum just to rest your aching head against your knees, hugging your legs to your chest.

That curse's smogs began spreading down the streets, into traffic, and nearby occupied establishments.

Believing help wouldn't get here in time through the systematic process, you opted for your wild card, shakily picking up your now cracked screen device.

"Toru. Curse problem. Get here ASAP. Please." Texting the address in your feverish haste, you pressed send before curling in on yourself, welcoming sleep to rest your aching self.

In just under the next few minutes — more like moments — you felt a boom in the cursed energy atmosphere, that curse no longer being sensed. At last, it was done.

The shift from freezing metal to cozy soft fabric stirred you awake a bit. Along with the feel of solid warm arms draped around your shoulders and under your knees. Those big smooth hands squeezing your shoulder and your kneecap had you tugging weakly on the front of that top, pressing your face against your makeshift pillow, struggling to open your eyes as your hearing painted the picture for you in the meantime.

"A majority will spend weeks recuperating. The ones closest to the cause will spend months in the hospital at best. Still though, no casualties. Thank you for the help." High chances it was one of the many medics on site for post cleanup.

"You can thank the young woman here for that. She was the first responder, after all. I'll tend to her recovery myself. Sayonara." You know that voice right away, even when he was muffled, relaxing further in his hold.

"This cold isn't going away anytime soon. Too bad reversed cursed techniques don't make the common cold go away." Your half lidded eyes still had him swooning at how frail and precious you were in his arms.

You murmured, noticing him in his black long sleeved top, matching sweatpants, and face mask with the blindfold. "Blindfolded giant." That's when you realized a face mask was put on you as well, your muffled coughs hitting cloth.

You could already picture him beaming, grinning, as he laughed a bit.

"Correction. Your blindfolded giant, darling~ Now then, let's get you home."

°•○•°•○•°•○•°

Geto typing away on his computer, working on his latest reports.

Gojo straddling his lap, hugging him as he napped against his dear best friend slash hubbie.

The former smiling fondly at the motion before picking up where he left off was their situation before both men's phones began vibrating and ringing.

"Geto-san! L/n-san has reported a disease curse spotting! But she was cut off before I could get further details!"

"She just texted me the location." The sleepiness was wiped away, replaced with firm seriousness, as Gojo started getting off of him to get some shoes on.

"Ijichi-san, do not fret. Satoru will handle the curse." Geto calmly responded over the phone before speaking concerningly to his snowy-haired hubbie. "Toru, bring a face mask in case the affected area reaches where you land post teleport."

Said man smooched his hubbie in kind before slipping on the black face mask to match his current apparel. "Wait up for us, Sugu~"

Seeing you both back, teleporting into your home office, Suguru smooched Satoru the moment he took that face mask right off. Pressing the back of his palm against your forehead to double check for a fever, Suguru's dismay was warranted.

So being there when you awoke from your fever dream tucked in the middle of your guys' giant bed meant Suguru patting your now sweating forehead with a wet rag, you trembling from chills raking your skin followed by feeling warmer the next minute as you coughed into a tissue he handed to you.

"Well dearest, you've got yourself a nasty cold here." Suguru noted with a gray face mask on as well, seated by you on his side of the bed.

"Ah bah." Your raspy spat earned you a cough into your fist before you were offered a filled up water bottle by Satoru who was sitting behind you on his side; blindfold off but face mask back on.

"Welp, I exorcized the curse and brought your cute self back here. Plus I got that report to work on in your precious stead. So you're welcome." He gently ran his fingers through your hair to ease you in whatever way he could.

"Thank you Toru." You slowly sat up and were then handed some cold pills by Suguru to down some water with. "Thank you Sugu."

"Now that we've made our home Ground Zero, you are hereby confined to this room. Drink plenty of fluids. Take your medicine. Get lots of rest. Do you hear me, young lady?" Suguru's smart ass tone made you pout.

"Yes mom." You murmured raspy.

Satoru snorted behind his face mask to which Suguru whacked him in the shoulder across from him with narrowed eyes. "At least Megumi and the twins are living in the dorms now and Tsumiki was able to convince her classmate to stay at her place for a while. Meaning we three have the place to ourselves~"

"Does that mean … I have to sleep by myself?" You whimpered, cracking their resolve. "Neither the Gojo Geto bears, nor the Gojo Geto cats, not even the Gojo Geto giant round plushies can substitute for the real deal." You moped, pointing at said custom made toys lined up on the window seat on the far side of the room.

"Aww, Suguru, how can we deny our lovely sweetheart the company of her valiant handsome knights in the flesh, huh~!?" Satoru dramatized his own cries, muffled though.

Suguru sighed, consigning. "At least one of us should. Who else will be teaching the first years in the meantime?"

"Round robin, then? Last one left standing tends to that noble martyr and gets our dear sweetheart to be their own personal nurse in the end … huh …" That hum and those inquiring eyes could only bode mischief. "I volunteer Suguru to go first!"

"Not gonna happen, Satoru." He immediately denied.

"But to be fed by, bathed by and be doted on by our angel is heaven sent~!" Satoru gushed.

"Which is why you shouldn't be the only one getting that special treatment!" Suguru being jealous at possibly being left out on that.

"Hey!" Your strained shout ends in a coughing fit, curled up in bed, sniffling to which Suguru hands you a big enough tissue to blow your nose in. "I'm dying here."

"Hmm … Yu could fill in." Satoru suggested.

"He is working as a teaching aid part time. And he did say he could help out whenever we needed it." Suguru added.

"Plus Nanamin is on a business trip for the week~ He'll need something to do while waiting for his beloved's return~!" Satoru teased.

"That settles it then." Suguru was smirking behind that mask, you could just tell.

"How lucky you are, darling, to have the strongest duo be your own personal nurses~" Satoru was so smirking his ass off.

"Even though you'll literally get sick of me?" You shyly asked, squeezing your bottle, apprehensive.

"We have strong ass immune systems, Y/n. Comes with over a decade of immense training." Satoru prided on, kissing your flushed cheek.

"If we can risk ourselves in the face of death as sorcerers, this is nothing." Suguru assured, kissing your other flushed cheek. "I'll call Haibara."

"I'll start up a bath for us all. Thank you big ass bathtubs." Satoru clapped to that.

"What do I do?" Even when sick, tilting your head and batting those eyes made the duo smooch your lips at once.

"Just be a good little patient for us, alright, honey?" God that wink of Suguru's left you more hot than usual as he walked off to make that call.

"Besides, being sick with you means being granted a sick leave and getting paid for it! Ah, thank you, my darling sweetheart~!" Satoru did hug you, nuzzle his face in your hair, and left you a wheezing mess.

"Y - You're w - welcome!"

Well, on the bright side, at least you'll all be sick together.

Snuggled in bed, among discarded tissues, wrappers of cough drops, and smooshed in one big embrace of entangled limbs while binging nothing but sitcoms, movies, and anime.

You would eventually get better in a week's time then later tend to your two enamored, affectionate partners and get them back into tip top shape.

But until then, being in their cozy arms, sleeping smack dabbed in between them, that might as well be the key on your quick road to recovery.

The SatoSugu cure, indeed!

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romaritimeharbor · 28 days

Text

BLEED. — in which the Knave attends to her wounded little sibling.

— trigger & content warnings. depictions of injuries & blood, descriptions of violence, implied murder. 1.4k words.

— pairings & notes. hurt/comfort. arlecchino & younger sibling!reader. reader is a member of the fatui. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns). arlecchino is referred to using her real name.

— author's notes. arle <3

"Oh, you— you came."

Their surprise was evident, written all over their features as they stared up at the Harbinger. The eerie, echoing click of her heels cut through the silence that, upon her entry, had befallen the Fatui's medics. The microexpressions on her face—brows furrowed inwards, gaze focused on nothing else but them, and lips pointed vaguely downwards—promised a fate far worse than death for anyone who dared to interrupt her.

Arlecchino was a calm, even-tempered woman...

...That is, she was a calm and even-tempered woman when her beloved little sibling was both safe and well. However, the blood soaking through the bandages wrapped around the lower half of their torso made it clear that they were not well. Safe, yes, but well? That, they most certainly were not.

Her tall stance cast a shadow over their body. Perhaps if they were anyone else, they would currently be fearing for their life... but as they gazed up at her with a meek smile, it occured to them that they were definitely concerned (though undoubtedly in a far more lighthearted way than any other person would be).

"You look so scary like this," they giggled timidly, snapping their gaze away and looking anywhere but at her. Subconsciously, their fingers fidgeted with the blanket draped over their legs. "Don't be mad... I messed up a bit. You know. Things— things happen..."

Arlecchino sighed, cutting them off: "Are you wounded anywhere else, [Name]?"

"No. Just there."

"I see," she muttered thoughtfully, rolling up her sleeves. The inky darkness of her curse pulsed and spread, crawling further up her arms than it usually did—they couldn't help but frown slightly. Nonetheless, they said nothing of it. She would surely brush them off and tell them to worry more about themselves if they did.

Arlecchino turned to the nervous agents in the room; the second they did, everyone immediately tried to appear busy, whipping their bodies away from the direction of the Knave and her baby sibling with such speed that it surely gave a few of them whiplash. "You all are dismissed."

'Get out. Now.'

With polite acknowledgments to her unspoken command, heads bowing to the Fourth, the Fatui's medics were quick to leave, urgency evident in their speedy steps. Anything they had been working on was long forgotten and left behind; certainly, the soldiers were unconcerned with their work. If anything, the only thing they were concerned with was getting away from Arlecchino. It wasn't very difficult to understand why.

No agent wanted to so much as imagine what might happen if they were to somehow invoke her fury, especially now of all times.

Once the final agent had left, and the heavy double doors shut—shockingly without any echo; perhaps the medics were afraid that even closing the door forcibly enough would agitate the Harbinger—their eyes shifted upwards.

"Peruere..." they murmured softly, straightening their spine somewhat and removing the blanket from their legs so that they could gingerly swing them over the side of the bed. They wished not to agitate their wound further—it still throbbed and ached, so they knew that one incorrect move would render them doubled over in pain. Their elder sister took notice of their enhanced caution.

"Did they give you any medication yet?" Arlecchino—Peruere, rather, inquired. She turned away from them briefly, speedily shuffling through the medical supplies on a nearby table. Scissors, gauze, antibacterial ointment...

"They tried, but nothing worked... well enough, that is. My fever has gone down since I arrived and it hurts slightly less, but it just hurts far too much for any of their weaker painkillers to be effective. This base isn't well-equipped to handle wounds like this."

Even breathing was a chore, really; each time their chest rose and fell, painful sparks clawed through their skin, originating at the gash in their side.

"Hm." Her face twisted and soured somewhat. "...I suppose I have no choice but to speak to the Doctor once we return to the Motherland, then."

Peruere then began thoroughly scrubbing her hands with special attention to the underside of her nails in one of the medical sinks, as to ensure that she did not cause any kind of infection to fester in their wound.

Their breath hitched, and they immediately went on to frantically ask, "Aren't you busy? You don't have to come with me. I can return by myself, it really isn't a big deal... even if that means talking to him—"

"No." Her eyes shifted to their direction (and for a moment, she couldn't help but think that they looked a little bit like a kicked puppy—dejected and pouty, as if they had somehow upset her). The Knave's tone softened slightly. "No. I do not trust the Doctor around you, nor do I trust these agents to ensure your safety. You are injured. I am the only one who can ensure no harm will befall you."

"I can defend myself," they asserted. "I'm your sibling, you know."

"I have no doubt that you can," she softly assured, drying her hands with a clean towel. "However, at the moment, you are in no condition to fight."

With that, she collected the necessary items and walked back towards their bed. Setting all but the scissors aside, she kneeled down, and began cutting away at the gauze.

"Did they clean your wound?"

"Yes."

She hummed in ackowledgement.

Peruere's gaze softened somewhat at the sight of their wound—still wet with blood, the perimeter of the wound lined in matte crimson. She observed the way their stomach heaved with each breath.

Scorching flames burned in her veins. Had she not known any better, she would resolve to deliver a fate far worse than death to whoever did this, to personally escort them straight to the lowest circle of hell and splatter their guts across the floor.

(She awaited and anticipated the day that the Doctor somehow, in some way, brought harm to her sibling. Should that day ever arrive, she would finally have a reason, an excuse, to reunite him and the previous Knave.

Peruere was patient. She could wait.)

...She did know better, however, and her sibling was just about as much of a force as she was.

Whoever did this was certainly already well-acquainted with the devil.

After squeezing some of the antibacterial ointment onto her fingertips, she gingerly spread it across the area of their wound.

They grimaced somewhat, body instinctively snapping away from her hands. Peruere's freehand shot out to grab their hip with enough pressure to keep them in place but not enough to hurt them any further.

"Shh. Be still."

"But it stings," they whined, shooting her an accusatory glance; there was a glimmer of mischief in their glazed eyes, however, and she immediately understood that whatever they were going to accuse her of was unserious in its nature. "You're making it hurt on purpose."

At that, the Harbinger rolled her eyes. It was clear that there was no true agitation behind the gesture.

"No, it doesn't, and no, I assure you that I am not," she replied calmly, continuing to spread the ointment to ensure that every part of the injury was adequately lathered. "I put nothing on it that would make it hurt. Don't be dramatic."

"Ahh... you're so mean, Per..." they sighed dramatically. "So terribly mean to your beloved, wounded baby sibling~"

She chose not to feed into their mischief. Instead, she began winding the gauze around their body. Once she felt that it was properly wrapped—covered with enough layers to keep dirt and debris out of their flesh and blood—she pulled. "Is this too tight?"

A soft hum rose from their throat as they inhaled as to ensure that it really wasn't too tight, even when they breathed deeply. "No. The pressure helps with the pain, actually."

The Harbinger nodded, securing the end of the gauze. She then rose—though not fully, and rather bent at the waist somewhat to meet them at eye-level. The hand that was void of any residue from the cream softly carressed their face.

Her pupils bore into theirs, thumb rubbing back and forth across their cheekbone. She was mindful as to avoid scratching them with her nail. Though she often told others not to gaze into her eyes for too long—'What you see may not be very pleasant,' she would say—they seemed to be an exception.

In her eyes, as most do, they saw destruction, death, and madness. In them, it did not induce fear. It made them feel safe.

And perhaps that made them no less mad then their elder sister was.

That fate, however, was one that they were content with.

The Knave withdrew, though not before placing a tender kiss on the crown of their head.

"Rest now. We will depart for Snezhnaya when you awaken again."

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#✧— aphe's creations.#astronetwrk #divider by @/cafekitsune ♡#platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin #genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin impact #arlecchino x reader #platonic arlecchino x reader #genshin x reader

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stepbrorafe · 2 months

Text

Movie Night - RC

summary : a sleepover w stepbro rafe takes a turn

warnings : swearing, stepcest, somnophilia(dubcon?), fingering, oral, idk idk

a/n : my first lil fic type deal on this acc :) feel free to send in reqs or comment opinions or just talk to me <3

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

“What?” Rafe’s deep voice called out from the other side of the door.

You slowly twist the knob, pushing the door open, eyes instantly meeting his bare back as he leaned over his bed.

“I said ‘what’, I didn’t say come-“ He starts, cutting himself off as he turns to you.

You sheepishly smile, “Sorry, I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe have a movie night?”

His eyebrows furrowed together, confusion plastering itself across his face. Your smile slightly falters as he doesn’t respond for a moment.

“Where’s Sarah and Wheezie?” He questions, as they’re who you usually hang out with.

“Wheezie’s sleeping, Sarah’s where she always sneaks off to anymore.” You mumble, “Just figured maybe me and you could have a sleepover or something. It’s okay though.”

He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want to have a movie night with you. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want even more than that. He absolutely loves whenever you’re around, yet he hates it at the same time.

He can’t help but drink in the way you move, the way you speak, the way you seem so innocent yet so naughty. In all honesty, his believing you have a naughty side is purely delusional. You’ve done nothing of the sort to incline you’re anything but innocent. Maybe that’s what it is though. Maybe he just wants to prove that you can be a slut. A slut for him.

Just as you’re turning around to leave, his voice stops you, “What are we watching?”

Your lips twist up in a smile, one that he has to purse his lips from mirroring. You close the door, sauntering over to his bed in your short little bottoms and thin tank top.

“We can watch whatever.” You say, crawling into his bed.

His eyes bore into the way you make yourself comfortable on his blankets, your smooth legs crossing along his bed. He swallows the accumulating saliva, flicking the light off and joining you.

He grabs the remote from his nightstand, passing it to you to choose a movie, stating, “Anything but a chick flick.”

The giggle falls from your lips so effortlessly, causing him to clear his throat and avert his eyes from you.

The night progresses with several movies before you find yourself sound asleep beside Rafe. He isn’t so lucky as sleep refuses to wash over him.

Instead, he’s left staring at you while you snooze. Your cheeks are slightly squished, causing your lips to form into a pout. Your long lashes rest on your cheeks, casting shadows along your skin. Your hair falls into your face, and he can’t help but brush it behind your ear, letting his fingers linger momentarily.

His eyes lower, taking in the way your cleavage is on show as your tank top is bunched below your tits. Your collarbones so prominent, the soft moonlight, shining through from the window, hitting them with a cool glow.

His gaze continues down your body, boring into the skin of your stomach showing as your shirt rides up. It also reveals the waistband of your small shorts. The shorts that barely cover the curve of your ass. In fact, he can see it clear as day. His eyes rake down the rest of you, soaking in the way your plump thighs damn near swallow your bottoms. Your smooth legs resting atop of one another, begging to be spread.

He can’t help the growing of his cock, now straining against his boxers, aching to be released. He lets out a breath, his eyes closing as he revels in the dirty fantasies he’s having.

He so badly wants to pull your legs apart and kiss you through the fabric of your shorts. He wants to squeeze your tits as he buries himself in you, swallowing all the pretty little sounds you make.

He lets out a hiss as his hand rests on his covered cock, adding just the slightest bit of pressure, seeking relief.

Before he can stop himself, he’s scooting closer to you. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him. He has to hold back a groan as your ass presses into his bulge.

Completely oblivious the state he’s in, you push back ever further, enjoying the cuddles from your stepbrother.

His hand slides down to your exposed stomach, rubbing small patterns into the skin, taking notice in the way goosebumps form beneath his touch. He can’t help but smirk at that.

You let out a soft hum, still in a deep unconscious state. His hand slowly trails higher, traveling up your torso. His hand halts when he feels your boob. You’re not wearing a bra.

He almost groans at the thought, convincing himself that you did it on purpose. That you want him to touch you. And so he does.

His hand fully engulfs your bare tit, squeezing it so firmly. You stir in your sleep, rolling onto your back. His eyes glimmer at the access you’re unknowingly giving him.

He pinches your hard nipple before removing his hand, and sliding it to the waistband of your shorts. Without hassle, his fingers poke into your bottoms, trailing further down. He tosses his head back at the notion of you not wearing any panties either. You’re practically begging to be fucked.

Taking in your sleeping figure, he lets his fingers go lower, sliding over your bare lips, groaning when he feels your arousal seeping through.

“I knew you were a slut.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

His fingers prod at your slit, pushing your lips open as he rubs you up and down. You let out a small, almost inaudible, moan from the feeling.

Rafe licks his lips, slowly circling your clit with two fingers. He can feel your body slightly tremble against him. Without a second thought, his fingers slide down to your entrance, pushing into you.

The action makes your body jump, instantly pulling you from your dreamy state. Your eyes flutter a few times, taking in what’s happening. Your heart rate picks up and your eyes widen, acknowledging the fact that your stepbrother has his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you.

“Rafe!” You gasp, attempting to push his hand away.

“Shh, you’re okay.” He whispers into your ear, his opposite hand holding you in place.

“W-what are you doing?” You panic, your body tensing as he continues to fuck his digits into you.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He quips, curling his fingers into your spongy walls.

It pulls a moan from you, one that you try to hide away as your cheeks burn bright with embarrassment.

You shake your head, “Stop. This is wrong, you’re my brother.”

“Stepbrother.” He corrects through gritted teeth.

His pace speeds up, the squelching sound filling in the room. Your brows knit together as you bite back your moans, the feeling being all too pleasurable.

“Do you really want me to stop?” He breathes against you. “Just tell me to stop and I will.”

Your mind races with a million thoughts a second, yet you feel blank at the same time. There’s no denying how good you feel right now, and how attracted you’ve felt towards Rafe. You always swallowed those feelings down, knowing it’s not right. But right here, right now, you don’t seem to care about anything else other than the feeling of his fingers working you.

“No, no.” You moan, your back arching. “Please don’t stop.”

He smirks, “That’s my girl.”

Next thing you know, he’s in between your legs, tongue lapping at your wetness as his fingers thrust in and out of you. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging at the strands as you buck your hips into his face while soft moans fall from your lips. You can practically feel his smirk as he pulls you closer.

“Taste so good, sound so pretty.” He coos, sucking up your juices. “Always knew you’d be a mess for me.”

You whine at his words, feeling your orgasm sneaking up on you. It doesn’t take long. His lips puckering around your clit and sucking harshly brings you over the edge. The guilt you have for letting him touch you dissipates as euphoria floods your veins. Your body convulses, legs shaking as you let go. He moans against your pussy, devouring everything you have to give him.

You’re left panting, coming down from the delicious high he gave you. He sits up, licking your remaining arousal from his lips. Scooting back up next to you, he pulls you into him once more, burying his face in your hair.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, still breathless.

“Thought you wanted to have a sleepover.” He mumbles, leaving you in a state of shock at what just took place.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

tags : @sunkissedrafe @wickedtactics @bunnycvnts @butterflyoceandreams

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 3 months

Text

Boys Day Out.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - these new pictures are making me go feral, like his hair grew back so quick and ngl im absolutely loving it 🥰

word count - 2.8k

in which, manchester united are playing luton town fc in the premier league, and so what better thing to do then take your two football obsessed children to watch there favourite team hopefully win.

Friday 16th February, 2024.

Last Friday was a rare moment of tranquility in your household.

You sat nestled in your shared bed, Harry's arm draped around your waist, pulling you close. As you lost yourself in the pages of your book, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, admiring the way his eyes sparkled with every scroll on his phone.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm aura around the room, creating a peaceful atmosphere that enveloped you both. With each shared smile and whispered exchange, the bond between you grew stronger, weaving a tapestry of love and companionship that filled the space between you.

As the subtle silence enveloped the room, Harry gently broke it, his voice filled with excitement. "Y’know, m’love, I was thinking... How about taking the boys to the Manchester United match on Sunday? A mate has a few tickets spare. It would be a fantastic day out for them, and I reckon it'd do you good to have some time for yourself."

You paused, considering his suggestion. " H, I don't mind staying with the boys. Besides, it's a big game, and they might get restless."

Harry shook his head, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Nonsense, they'll love it! And you deserve a break, you do so much for them already. Plus, it'll be a chance for me to bond with the boys, just the three of us."

You couldn't help but smile at his earnestness.

"I suppose it would be nice to have a bit of me-time," you admitted, though still hesitant about leaving the boys for the day.

Seeing your uncertainty, Harry took your hand in his, his gaze softening. "Trust me, m’love, it'll be a day they'll never forget. Besides, it'll give you a chance to relax and unwind, do whatever you fancy without worrying about the boys."

His words warmed your heart, and you found yourself nodding, a sense of relief washing over you.

"Okay, you've convinced me. Let's make it a boys' day out on Sunday," you agreed, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of a few hours of peace and quiet.

Sunday 18th February, 2024.

Harry navigated his Range Rover through the familiar streets, the excitement palpable in the air as they neared Kenilworth town where the football match awaited.

In the backseat, Cameron, his eight-year-old son, gazed out of the window with a mix of wonder and anticipation, his Manchester United kit proudly worn.

Cameron Harry Styles was conceived only five months into yours and Harry’s relationship, it definitely came as a shock seeing as he was only twenty-two, but he absolutely wouldn’t change it for the world.

"Dad, do you think Rashford will score today?" Cameron asked eagerly, his eyes alight with excitement.

Harry glanced at Cameron through the rearview mirror, a smile playing on his lips.

"M’reckon he's got a good chance, Cam. But y’know how football is, anything can happen," he replied, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, in the other car seat Dexter Robin Styles, your youngest child who was conceived on your honeymoon.

Dexter, just turned two, slept soundly in his car seat, blissfully unaware of the excitement surrounding him. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his youngest son, his heart swelling with love.

"Look at him, out like a light already," he remarked to Cameron.

Cameron grinned back, his excitement bubbling over.

"We can wake him up when we get there, Daddy," he declared confidently, already planning the day ahead in his mind. "I can't wait to see the players up close!"

The journey continued for another half an hour, the excitement building with each passing mile. Cameron peppered Harry with questions about the match, his eagerness infectious as they drew closer to the stadium. Dexter stirred in his sleep occasionally, but Cameron kept a watchful eye on him, eager to share every moment of the adventure with his little brother.

Finally, they pulled up in the stadium's private car park, greeted by the bustling atmosphere of fellow fans and the distant sounds of cheers from inside. Harry turned off the engine, glancing back at his sons with a grin.

As Harry stepped out of the car, he made his way around to Dexter's car seat, his heart full of anticipation for the day ahead. Gently, he opened the door and leaned in to wake his youngest son.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he murmured softly, giving Dexter a gentle shake. "It's time to wake up, buddy."

Dexter stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly emerged from his deep slumber.

"Daddy?" he mumbled, his voice groggy from sleep. "Carry me, please?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at his son's request, knowing full well that Dexter was a total daddy's boy.

"Of course, little man," he replied, ready to scoop Dexter up into his arms. "You ready for some football?"

Dexter nodded, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. "Yeah, football!" he exclaimed, his voice still laced with sleepiness.

Harry chuckled softly, planting a kiss on Dexter's forehead.

"That's right, buddy. But first, we need to get you out of this car seat," he said, gently manoeuvring Dexter's sleepy limbs.

Meanwhile, Cameron had already made his way out of the car and stood next to his father, his hand clasped firmly in Harry's.

"I can't wait to see the players, Daddy!" he exclaimed, his excitement palpable.

Harry chuckled, ruffling Cameron's hair affectionately.

"I know, buddy. It's going to be an amazing day," he replied, his heart swelling with love for his two sons.

The stadium wasn’t that busy, but that may be because the match didn’t kick off for another hour.

No one had managed to spot him thus far, so it was all smooth sailing.

Dexter was still in his arms, thumb in his mouth and Cameron was holding his fathers hand, his shoulder length curls tied back in a loose man bun that you had done this morning.

As they made their way through the bustling stadium, Cameron's stomach rumbled loudly, coincidently as they passed a nearby food stand.

Oh how he craved some warm food right now.

"Daddy, m’hungry!" he exclaimed, tugging on Harry's hand.

Harry chuckled. "Hungry, huh? Remember, it's not 'want', it's 'would like'," he gently corrected, trying to instill good manners in his son.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food stand.

"Okay, Daddy. Can I have a slice of pizza, please?" he asked politely, his stomach grumbling impatiently.

Harry smiled, proud of Cameron's manners.

"Of course, buddy. Let's see what they have," he replied, leading the way to the queue.

As they waited in line, Harry turned to Dexter, who was still cradled in his arms.

"And what about you, Dex? Would y’like anything to drink?" he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from Dexter's forehead.

Dexter nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Fruit shoot, please, Daddy!" he chirped, his little voice filled with anticipation.

He should have guessed.

Harry chuckled, planting a kiss on Dexter's cheek.

"Fruit shoot it is, champ," he replied, making a mental note to grab a couple of bottles for the boys.

Finally reaching the front of the queue, Harry ordered a slice of pizza for Cameron and a couple of fruit shoots for Dexter. As they walked away from the food stand, Cameron eagerly bit into his slice, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. And with Dexter happily sipping on his fruit shoot.

In the stands of the bustling stadium, Harry sat between his two boys, each in their own seat. Dexter, perched proudly in his own seat, had insisted on being a "big boy" for the match, his determination shining through as he sat upright, his legs swinging with excitement.

Though still too young to fully grasp the intricacies of the game, Dexter's eyes sparkled with wonder as he took in the sights and sounds of the stadium, his tiny hands gripping the edge of his seat in anticipation.

Cameron, on the other hand, was completely engrossed in the action on the field. With his Manchester United scarf wrapped around his neck and his eyes fixed on the players, he leaned forward eagerly, his heart racing with each pass and shot. His passion for the game was palpable, his entire being consumed by the thrill of the match unfolding before him.

As the game entered its fifth minute, Manchester United surged ahead with an early goal, igniting a chorus of cheers from the crowd.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched the excitement ripple through Cameron, his son's eyes shining with pure joy. And beside him, Dexter's infectious laughter filled the air, a constant reminder of the simple pleasures of being together as a family.

As the game entered its seventh minute, Manchester United's Rasmus Højlund seized an opportunity and scored a magnificent goal, sending the stadium into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

Cameron, unable to contain his excitement, leapt up from his seat, his eyes wide with jubilation as he started jumping up and down.

"Yes! Go, United!" he shouted, his voice filled with exhilaration.

Beside him, Dexter watched with wide-eyed wonder, not quite understanding what had just happened.

Sensing his confusion, Harry leaned down and whispered in Dexter's ear, "Dexter, our team just scored a goal! Isn't that exciting?"

Dexter's face lit up with understanding, and he clambered down from his seat, his tiny legs carrying him over to stand in front of Harry.

With a beaming smile, he reached out for Cameron's hand, eager to join in the celebration.

"Goal! Goal!" he exclaimed, mimicking his older brother's excited jumps.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his two boys jumping up and down in unison, their laughter echoing through the stadium. Quickly pulling out his phone, he aimed the camera at them, capturing the precious moment for posterity.

As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match with Manchester United emerging victorious with a score of 2-1, Cameron was buzzing with excitement. He bounced around, his energy infectious as he reveled in his team's triumph.

Meanwhile, Dexter, nestled contentedly in Harry's arms, gazed up at his father with sleepy eyes, still basking in the excitement of the game.

Unbeknownst to the boys, Harry had a surprise in store for them. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he decided to keep it a secret until the perfect moment. As they made their way out of the stadium, Cameron and Dexter assumed they were heading home, completely unaware of the surprise awaiting them.

A kind-hearted stadium staff member, noticing the boys' enthusiasm for the game, discreetly approached Harry and whispered about a special opportunity to visit the dressing room of Manchester United. Sensing the boys' excitement, Harry nodded gratefully, knowing that this unexpected treat would be the perfect end to an already unforgettable day.

They soon arrived at the changing rooms.

"Daddy, where are we going?" Cameron asked, his voice tinged with excitement and curiosity. Before Harry could respond, the door swung open, revealing a sight that left Cameron speechless.

His eyes widened in awe as he took in the scene before him—the dressing room of Manchester United, filled with his favorite players. For a moment, Cameron was rendered silent, his mouth hanging open in disbelief as he stood in the presence of his idols.

Meanwhile, Dexter, wide awake and brimming with enthusiasm, squirmed in Harry's arms, eager to explore. Spotting one of the players nearby, he wiggled free and dashed over without hesitation, his extroverted nature shining through as he greeted the player with a wide grin and a burst of chatter.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's boldness, his heart swelling with pride at his son's fearlessness. As Dexter chatted animatedly with the player, Harry followed after him, a fond smile on his face as he watched his youngest son soak up the moment with unbridled joy.

Beside him, Cameron held onto Harry's trouser leg tightly, his shyness evident as he observed the scene with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Harry knelt down beside him, offering reassurance and encouragement.

"S’okay, Cam. They're just regular people, like you and me," he whispered, gently squeezing Cameron's hand in support.

Harry noticed Cameron's apprehension and knelt down beside him, offering a reassuring smile and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"S’okay, buddy. Y’don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to," he whispered gently, understanding his son's discomfort.

As the bustling activity in the dressing room continued, a familiar figure approached the trio.

It was Marcus Rashford, Cameron's favorite footballer.

The moment Cameron caught sight of him, his eyes widened in awe, and he instinctively tightened his grip on Harry's hand.

Harry smiled warmly as Marcus crouched down to Cameron's level.

"Hey there, buddy! Did you enjoy the game?" Marcus asked, his voice gentle and friendly.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his heart pounding with excitement.

"Y-yes! It wa-was amazing! Y-you're my favorite player," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with nervousness.

Marcus grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Thank you, mate! That means a lot to me. What's your name?" he asked, reaching out to ruffle Cameron's hair.

"C-Cameron," he replied, his voice trembling with excitement. "I-I've always wanted to be like you when I play football with my team."

Marcus's smile widened at Cameron's words.

"That's fantastic, Cameron! Keep working hard, and who knows, maybe one day you'll be playing for Manchester United too," he encouraged, his words filled with genuine warmth and encouragement.

Encouraged by Marcus's friendly demeanor, Cameron slowly began to relax. With Harry's reassuring presence beside him, he found the courage to step out from behind his father's leg and engage in conversation with his idol.

Harry, holding onto Dexter with his other hand to prevent him from wandering off again, watched proudly as Cameron and Marcus chatted animatedly. Despite Cameron's initial nervousness, his admiration for Marcus shone through, and Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his son's bravery.

And as they continued to talk, Cameron's stutter gradually faded away, replaced by an excited chatter as he eagerly shared his love for football with his idol. In that moment, surrounded by his father's support and the friendly encouragement of Marcus Rashford, Cameron felt like anything was possible.

As their conversation with Marcus continued, he noticed the excitement radiating from both Cameron and Dexter.

With a warm smile, Marcus gently interrupted their chatter.

"Hey guys, would you like to take a photo together?" he offered, extending his arms towards them.

Cameron's eyes lit up with excitement, while Dexter's face broke into a wide grin.

"Yes, please!" Cameron exclaimed, eager to capture the moment with their idol.

Marcus chuckled warmly as he scooped Dexter into one arm and Cameron into the other.

"Alright, let's get a picture," he said, positioning them carefully for the shot.

As Marcus held onto the boys, he glanced over at Harry, who stood nearby, watching with a proud smile.

"Would you like to join us in the photo?" Marcus asked, extending an invitation to Cameron and Dexter's father.

Harry's heart swelled with gratitude at the gesture.

"Absolutely," he replied, stepping forward to join the group.

With Harry now in the frame, another player from the team stepped forward to take the photo.

"Say cheese!" he called out, readying the camera.

Cameron, Dexter, and Harry beamed with excitement as the photo was taken, capturing the moment they shared with Marcus Rashford. As the shutter clicked, Harry felt a sense of overwhelming gratitude, knowing that this experience would be a cherished memory for years to come.

After the photo was taken, Cameron ran straight over to Harry, his eyes shining with tears of joy.

"Daddy, I love you so much! This has been the best day ever!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around Harry in a tight hug.

Touched by Cameron's heartfelt words, Harry wrapped his arms around his son, holding him close.

"I love you too, Cam. M’so glad we could share this special moment together," he replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Feeling left out of the hug, Dexter toddled over, his arms outstretched.

"Me too! Hug, Daddy!" he chimed in, joining the embrace with a giggle.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's enthusiasm, his heart overflowing with love for his two sons. Pulling them both close, he held them tightly, savoring the moment of pure happiness and love.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, laughter mingled with tears of joy. In that moment, surrounded by the love of his family, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the beautiful memories they had created together. And as they headed home, hand in hand, he knew that this day would be etched in their hearts forever.

514 notes · View notes

azsazz · 5 months

Text

Midnight Muse (Part 5)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 4,069

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

“All I’m saying is that I think he’s pretty cute,” Feyre scoffs, defensively.

Since you’d moved in, it seems as though your entire life revolves around the boys living next door.

While you’d finally gotten the sleep you deserved last night, something had felt…off. The other side of the wall was almost too quiet as you lay in the darkness, still awaiting sleep to take you in its hold, even though your body had been aching for sleep for so long. All night, there wasn’t a peep from the asshole sharing the wall. You knew it had to be Az living on the other side, there was no way in fucking hell that it wasn’t, but the lack of music blaring through the walls felt like a dream, almost.

You shoved the thoughts from your mind in the early hours of the morning, hastily getting ready for your day. Your first day of classes, and you wouldn’t let him ruin even that. Now, the sun shines brightly on you and Feyre as you walk to your first class of the day, Drawing 201.

You had made your schedules match up as much as they could. With Feyre being an art student as well, she had declared her major in oil painting, whereas you aren’t sure what medium you’d like to get into. All you know is that there’s something drawing you towards the arts, and thankfully, you still have time to take electives and try new classes to see if anything sticks.

The only classes you hadn’t been able to take together were your non-art related ones. Feyre seems to know exactly what her path is in life, minoring in business because she wants to open a gallery one day and figured having an understanding of what goes into owning her own business would be helpful.

You, on the other hand, had opted for a creative writing class to fulfill that requirement for your college degree. It is a semester filled with imagination and artistry, searching for that missing piece of your soul, trying to find it along the way.

Feyre has her drawing pad tucked under an arm as she walks. Yours is held in a similar fashion, the obnoxiously large pad of paper bigger than your torso. Her golden-brown hair is tied back into a loose bun that she makes look effortless. If you were to try and recreate the same hairstyle, you’d look like a rat. She’s clad in a plain t-shirt and jeans, simple for the balmy weather, not wanting to wear something nicer only to have charcoal and paints splashed over it by the end of the day.

The two of you had been talking about your neighbors, having seen one of them driving off in his vintage car that somehow always seemed to be parked outside of the building. Its paint was red and rusted, metal rotting through. You weren’t even sure that the car was in running condition, but it gave a splutter of black smoke as he rolled away and you wondered if it would make it the few blocks down to campus.

It was the last roommate, the one you don’t know the name of. He’s large and bulky, muscles seeming to nearly split the seams of any shirt he covered his torso with. The one who had seemed to be the least volatile, that is, until he shut the door in your face for the final time that dreadful night.

The building is old, but the classroom is spacious and drab. Concrete floors adorned with paint that hadn’t come off, dried clay chipping into dust, the room shared with many different classes working with many different mediums. The white walls brighten the room, the sun casting through the windows bouncing off of it and creating intriguing lighting to work with. Art horses are lined up in a circle, surrounding a mattress with a navy blue sheet spread across its lumpy surface. It smells of both paint and graphite, the scent comforting as a part of you settles, shoulders relaxing as you revel in it.

Accustomed to the setup, you realize that you’re going to be jumping right into the class and will be drawing today. Last year, the most memorable moment in your first life drawing class ever was the oldest man you’ve ever seen being the nude model. Of course, that was the day that your professor had each student drawing a close-up of a specific part of the model’s body, and you’d so luckily gotten to draw his low-hanging, wrinkly balls. Lovely.

You shudder as the memory resurfaces, following Feyre to a seat. You drop your bag to the floor, setting up your own sketchpad, before pulling out the necessary materials you’ll be needing for class.

You roll your eyes in response to her statement. “I didn’t say they weren’t cute, I said that they’re assholes.” Despite your quiet night, you can’t help but wonder about Az, thinking about his brooding nature and stupidly charming face as you drifted off to sleep in the loud quiet of your room.

Students trickle in one by one. A group of girls stride in, laughing about something that happened at a bar over their weekend. Another girl follows, but it’s clear that she isn’t in their group. She’s pretty, with chic, ice blue glasses perched on her button nose, her striking white hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

Your attention shifts to the boy that follows her in, and your jaw almost drops.

He’s handsome—no, he’s much more than that, you just can’t formulate the words twisting your thoughts and tongue into knots. Maybe after your creative writing class you’d be able to describe his sheer beauty. He has the most luxurious copper hair you’ve ever seen. It cascades across his broad shoulders, a braid on either side, caressing his face. He’s tall, too, an entire head—maybe even more—taller than the white-haired girl he’s bounding behind. His straight nose is flecked with freckles and his fox-shaped face is utterly devastating.

When his gaze finds yours, you feel as though you’re pinned to the art horse beneath you. He has one russet eye, and the other is golden. You want to commit it to memory, curse yourself for not bringing your colored pencils, stare right into those very eyes until you’ve gotten each stroke of his iris’ perfect. He’s mesmerizing, and the closer he moves, you start to make out the fine scar that slashes through that gold eye and his eyebrow above. It’s his only flaw, but only adds to his intimidating aura.

“Hi,” he greets, sliding into the empty seat next to you. You have to look up at him, even sitting, and something in your stomach stirs. “I’m Lucien.”

“(Y/N),” you respond numbly, thrown by his beauty. He’s wearing a loose button-up in the color moss, dark trousers, and even nicer shoes. He doesn’t look anything like an art student. Law, maybe. “Nice to meet you.”

You fumble with your art case as he holds out his hand for you to shake. Cheeks heating, you give him a bashful smile, sliding your hand into his. It’s warm, encapsulating the entirety of your own, and the longer your hand sits in his, the wider his pleasant smile becomes. “You as well,” he responds, then leans over to introduce himself to Feyre. With your back to him, you give her an ‘oh my gods, look how gorgeous he is’ look, and she responds with an elbow to your side, acknowledging that she sees just how gorgeous he is.

This year is determined to kill you, with all of the handsome men you’ve seen so far. Lucien maybe even more so, with how delightful he already is.

You can hardly even remember what you were conversing with Feyre about now that Lucien has entered the room. You couldn’t even remember if one of your neighbors waltzed right into the roo—

Fuck.

Of fucking course.

It’s the one roommate you don’t know the name of. The one who’d been driving away when you and your roommate left for campus this morning, waltzing into the room as if he owns the place.

His frame takes up the entire doorway, and you find yourself wondering if that’s his thing. Precious Azzy’s is being loud, Rhys’ is that forked tongue of his, and this one’s is filling any space with his massive body.

He enters the room with a swagger that has all of the girls swooning, carefree and confident. He oozes masculinity, barrel chested and tall. You didn’t know that he was in this class, though. When Rhys has said that they were juniors, you thought they’d be in the 300 classes, not 200s.

Now might be as good a time as ever to ask, though, because his hazel gaze sparks in recognition when he glances your way, and he beelines over to you.

“Well, hello there ladies,” he greets with a seemingly genuine smile. He had been the nicest of the three when you and Feyre had almost knocked their door clean from its hinges, but he had also shut the door on you. Plus, with your not-so-great experiences with his roommates, your body is tense, prepared for the worst. “You’re taking this class?”

Feyre takes the bait on this one, and you’re well aware that Lucien is listening in, despite the fact that he’s pulled his satchel into his lap and is unloading his own supplies. “Yeah, it’s required for sophomores. Are you in it as well?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a sinful smile. Wolfish, almost. “You could say that.” You open your mouth to speak but he’s turning towards Lucien, smile broadening into something practically wicked, sticking his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m Cassian, man. Nice to meet you.”

“Lucien,” he replies politely, though you don’t miss the slight grimace on his face when Cassian clenches his fingers in his own. You smother a laugh because Cassian looks like he could break all of the bones in Lucien’s hand with just a little more pressure if he wanted to.

The trifecta is complete. You finally have all three names, though you only know Az through his nicknames alone. Or maybe his name is Azzy. Maybe that’s why he’s so grumpy all of the time.

Whatever. You don’t care.

After introducing yourself and Feyre to Cassian, he leans in closer. He smells earthy, like freshly turned dirt and smoked wood. It reaches out to you like roots in the ground, and it’s refreshing, to say the least.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” he starts, and you nearly recoil. You were expecting him to come in here with the arrogance his roommates seem to share, not this sincere politeness dripping from his words. His hazel eyes are earnest as you inspect him, his soft smile a touch guilty, if anything. “It’s just that I’ve got to side with my roommates. You can understand that, right?”

“You don’t even know what he did,” you answer, trying not to grumble. Your brows are pinched and you watch Cassian take note of that. Az had been a complete prick for no reason, and that’s just not cool in your books.

Cassian winces, dropping back an inch or two. His voice is low, more of a whisper than you thought someone of his size would be able to make. “It’s not really my place to say, but Azriel had had a rough day. And no, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but you did threaten to tow his bike, and he doesn’t take that lightly. But hey, it had nothing really to do with me, so I’m willing to look past it if you are.”

Azriel. Aa full name to a face and well, it kind of suits him. The angel of death. A shiver wracks your spine.

With that permanent scowl, he certainly looks the part.

And, this isn’t the apology you expected, but it’s a truce, a peace offering between neighbors. Maybe, if you accept, Cassian will be able to pass along the message of ‘shut the fuck up after midnight’ to Azriel.

You share a look with Feyre, contemplating. It seems as though she’s thinking similarly to you because she smiles up at Cassian, agreeing. “We’d love that.”

Cassian beams, straightening to his full height. Fuck, he’s huge.

He looks as if he may say something more, but the professor enters the room and calls his name. He shoots you and Feyre a cheeky grin. “That’s me,” he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll come get your numbers after class. Try not to enjoy it too much, ladies.” With a wink, he turns, gliding across the room with an ease someone built like a brick wall should have.

Your eyes follow him as he stalks towards the teacher, all grins and positivity. Maybe he isn’t like his broody, rude roommates. The teacher asks him something and he’s nodding along as if he’s done this before and is being reminded of what’s expected of him for this class. He roots around in the bag slung over his shoulder and pulls something out as he makes his way towards the door. Maybe he’s not enrolled in your class and only needed to speak to the professor?

“Welcome to Drawing 201,” the professor greets, clapping her hands together to gain the attention of the room. The murmurs soften as she speaks, students ready to have their talents molded by her intelligence. “My name is Ms. Woods, but you can call me Alis.”

You don’t miss Cassain slipping back into the room as Alis walks you through warm up exercises and best practices for the class. Your fingers are already coated with charcoal from where you’d roughly outlined shapes of Feyre’s body for warm ups. The curves on your paper become more and more fluid as you get into the familiar motions of drawing.

“What do you think he’s doing here?” you murmur to Feyre, still watching where Cassian is crouched low as if he wouldn’t be able to hear the professor from his full height. While you’re turned this way, you catch Lucien peeking at you over his shoulder for a fleeting moment, and before your gaze can snag his, he’s turning back to his own work.

Feyre shrugs, studying the lines of your face. “You don’t think he’s the—”

“This is Cassian,” Alis interrupts, stealing your attention from your roommate and your drawing. It’s nothing more than a mess of rough shapes, looking nothing like her at all, but you’re trusting the process. Only a minute's time isn’t long enough for more than that.

Cassian is no longer wearing his loose jeans and tight t-shirt. Instead, he dons a thick, gray robe. The fabric doesn’t nearly drape far enough down, his gloriously tanned and muscular legs on full display, showing off an intricate tattoo from his knees, creeping up underneath the fabric. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, following the lines of muscle all the way up as Alis continues, “He’s going to be our model for the day.”

You’re not the only one who chokes at the news. Girls and guys alike are blushing in their seats, and Cassian can hardly contain the smug smirk threatening to split his face in two. He winks over at you and Feyre who share a wide-eyed look. Lucien scoffs lightly, and your jaw snaps shut, pink heating your cheeks as well.

You busy yourself by flipping to a new page in your pad. It’s crisp and white, not at all as interesting as you’re trying to make it seem as you avoid Cassian’s mirth-filled stare. You smooth the paper with your hand, and it’s shaking slightly with anticipation. Your new neighbor who’s just offered a truce, and you’re already going to be seeing him naked.

Would it have been weirder to be mad at him and stare at his naked form, or now, when a ceasefire has been declared and you’re somewhat on the road to becoming friends?

You don’t have the chance to think further on it because Cassian moves into the circle towards the lone mattress on the floor as Alis explains how the time spent in class is going to be divided. There will be a few three minute sketching sessions where you are to get down as much of his form as you can, while Cassian continuously changes poses. Following that, there will be two fifteen minute sessions, a break, and a final longer session where you’ll focus more on detail than form.

He slides out of his shoes, and you swallow roughly as he undoes the ties to his robe. Thankfully, he’s not looking at you, watching your intent gaze pinned to his tanned skin. The fabric slides from his broad shoulders, down, exposing the muscles of his back. The less fabric that shows, the more tattoos you see, covering both arms and licking across his chest. His waist pulls in tight and you have to bite your lip to hold back a noise in the completely silent room. Rippling muscles line his body, corded and thick in all of the right places. You can’t help it, staring unabashed because he’s turned away from you, your eyes falling from the inky whorls of tattoos across his shoulders, down through the cavern of the muscle lining his spine, all the way down to his tight ass.

All of the students are entrapped by his beauty, as if he’s aphrodite reincarnated. Two dimples poke in the base of his spine that you want to lean forward and dip your tongue into, but then he’s shifting a little and his cock is on full display.

The stick of charcoal in your fingers snaps in half.

You hope you get that facing you for the few hours you’ll be here.

Next to you, Lucien tuts under his breath, but even he can’t seem to look away from the Greek God standing before you.

Alis instructs Cassian into his first pose and then addresses the class. “Alright, your time begins now.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

You don’t know how you’re able to focus on anything other than the cock draped so prettily across his abdomen.

Cassian looks as relaxed as ever, splayed out across the blue sheet on the mattress, one arm tucked beneath his head, eyes shut, and breathing even as if he might have actually fallen asleep.

With the late nights you know he and his roommates tend to have, you wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest.

You lose yourself in the quiet of the classroom, nothing but the sounds of long strokes or chalk against paper, the scratch of quick sharp lines being drawn. There’s the occasional murmur of advice or comments from Alis as she makes her rounds, weaving through students spread throughout the room.

Drawing the contours of his muscle is no easy feat. Packed layer upon layer from years or hard work spent in the gym, you rub the dark soot into your drawing pad. It’s calming, sweeping the charcoal over the white space to create shadows the lighting paints across his body.

His tattoos take some effort, even though Alis had said not to worry about those, that getting his form down was more important, but you can’t help yourself. You’ve always been interested in people’s tattoos and the stories behind them, the significance or lack thereof for some, despite having none of your own. You draw them with an extra care, trying your best not to make up reasons as to why he might have them. Now that you’re going to be on friendly terms, maybe you can ask him the meaning behind them yourself.

Eventually, Alis’ timer goes off, the ringtone the same as your phone, and for a fleeting moment your body reacts as if it’s your own alarm going off, a slight twist in your stomach as your body locks for a moment. You put down your chunk of charcoal as Cassian sits up, dusting your fingers off and admiring your drawing, comparing it to the model once more before he tugs on his robe.

Feyre stands to stretch, her back popping as she twists around. You wipe the soot from your hands on a cloth and grab your water bottle, the crisp water wetting your parched throat.

Lucien leans over, copper hair cascading over his shoulder and almost brushing your arm in the process. You wouldn’t mind, it looks silky smooth and the smell of his hair oil makes you want to lean in a little closer. He studies your work as you drink and eventually, with a smirk, says, “You have quite an eye for detail.”

You splutter and he bites his pink lip, trying to smother his smile. He gives you the most innocent look he can muster, but he doesn’t know that you have a retort on the tip of your tongue, just as soon as you stop choking.

“You sound a little bit jealous there, Lucien.”

Feyre laughs and he gapes dramatically, “Maybe, a little.”

You can’t help but to chuckle at his antics, the rest of your classmates packing up around you. Cassian’s disappeared from the room already, probably in the restroom changing, and you wonder if he’ll be back for your number like he promised.

In the meantime, you pack your things away, stuffing your extra chalks of charcoal back into your case, along with your cloth and kneaded eraser. You feel confident in the work you’ve done today, so with a last glance at your drawing, you flip your pad shut, taking Feyre’s for her and walking with Lucien to stash them in the assigned drawer you and Feyre share.

“So, are you an art major?” you ask, waiting for the crowd around the shelves to dissipate a little.

He cuts you a suspicious look, but it’s playful. “You didn’t get a glimpse of my drawing, did you? I suppose I can’t blame you with a model looking like that, but it’s entirely awful,” he states, and you stare up at him in disbelief.

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” you argue, and his lips thin a little as he flips open his drawing pad just enough for only you to see. It’s difficult to hold in the laugh trying to burst from your throat.

Lucien winces but a puff of laughter follows that makes your shoulders ease. “I told you it was shit, your face only confirmed it!”

There’s no coming back from this one, so you decide to play into it.

“Okay, it’s not great, but I’ve definitely seen worse. You should’ve seen my stuff from last year.”

Lucien rolls his eyes, stepping forward in line. “Oh, I’m sure it was nothing like the gorgeous drawing you’ve managed to pull out of your ass in two hours today,” he scoffs, and you elbow him in the arm gently. “Your drawing literally looks like a photograph!”

It doesn’t, but your cheeks heat at his compliment anyway.

“I might’ve been doing this a little longer than you have,” you defend. Since you could hold a crayon, to be exact.

He huffs, stuffing his pad into a drawer and offering to help you with yours and Feyres. He pulls your drawer open and you slide the pads inside, stepping out of the way so others can crowd him as he closes up and follows you back to your seats. “Well, then you might have to help me out, because I thought that taking a few drawing classes would help me with my renderings for architecture, but those are all straight lines and circles and this is all curved lines and cock.”

You can’t help but laugh this time, leaning over your horse to pack away the rest of your supplies. Feyre’s all ready to go, face buried in her phone as she texts someone, fingers tapping quickly on the screen.

“You know, if you remove yourself from what you’re looking at, this is all just lines and circles too.”

Lucien slings his satchel over his shoulder, staring down at you with those mesmerizing eyes that shine when he speaks. “Would you want to explain that further sometime, over coffee perhaps?”

You’re a little shocked by his bluntness, but you grin and nod nonetheless. “I’d like that.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @vellichor01 @hirah-yummar @girl-who-writes-stuff @lees-chaotic-brain @konaanaria13 @emiler-love @yourdorkiness @azrielsstarlight

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #midnight muse #art school au #azriel au #tattoo arstist!azriel

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khristie16 · 8 months

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A Game On Red

about: two ferrari boys are madly obsessed with you, they do whatever it takes to keep their pr manager just for themselves. warnings: daddy kink, size kink, guys are toxic, reader is innocent, jealousy, kidnapping, primal play, cnc, smut. tag list: @buendiabebeta words count: 2K Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Run cariño”

The cold environment around was not helping your situation at all. The wind was spreading around your skin like a plague and you felt goosebumps rising up your skin. You looked at both of them guys in disbelief. It was hunger and determination in their eyes. You knew you are their prey, but most importantly you started to feel like one. And although you knew what was waiting for you in the forest and who to await, somehow you couldn't bring yourself to commit to it.

“We give you a head start cherie, then there will be no help anymore. Choose wisely, your time is ticking”

Your eyes darted from side to side, your step back resulting in a crunch of something under your heel and you started to get scared. A sound that could become your nightmare echoed around you, causing anxiety, a desire to escape. Carlos groaned so inhumanly that you were starting to fear for your life. You hoped that they wouldn't ever hurt you, …right?

You knew there was no going back now. You expected what awaits you. You delayed your decision because you didn't want to admit what this theoretically meant for your future. And so you hesitantly turned around and started running. You didn't know that you weren't running away from them as much as you were running away from yourself, you were afraid of the answer to the question of why you let this get so far.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You feel weakness in your legs. You left your heels behind long time ago, you don't know how and you don't even know how long you've been running, and the only thing that keeps you company are the sounds of your breath and hooting owls. You heard nothing more. And you were glad for it. Until you heard the first distant steps behind you.

Your heart races in sync with each pounding footstep on the leaf-covered ground. The moon's feeble light barely penetrates the dense canopy, casting shadows that seem to reach out for you. That is when you're like a lighthouse, your dress lights up in the moonlight, it's like you're a siren calling your lover to you. But you weren't the one who had dominion over them. They have one over you and they're coming for you. You are their beautiful bait and they look forward to seeing what they can get out of you. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, mixing with the rustling leaves and the distant calls of dangerous creatures.

Your senses are on high alert, and you strain to hear any hint of your pursuer's approach. Your path is uncertain, guided only by instinct, and you pray that you don't stumble into a hidden trap or lose your way entirely. Each second feels like an eternity as you navigate this dark, twisted labyrinth, desperately seeking refuge and safety from the relentless pursuit that shadows your every move.

As you were getting lost in yourself, you found yourself in captivity. Like a hare caught in a trap. The hare was going to be dinner and that's exactly how you felt right now because you were hanging upside down and your legs were tightly tied together. Before you could recover, the world around you seemed a blur, and you couldn't find a single stable point of reference to focus on and pick up your spinning mind. It took some time for you to swing to a relatively stable motion in the suspension and you began to search for them with your eyes. You were scared and not sure if this was part of the game. What if you accidentally wandered into someone else's territory? After all you don’t know where you are and what type of people live around here. So you waited for a moment with a huge tension in your muscles, desperately trying to catch the tiniest bit of sound that would indicate that you were not alone. That desperate you were, to see your hunters. And some wishes come true.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Look at the beauty. She is even bare for us.”

You knew it was Carlos talking. You saw a pair of legs walking right towards you. And you couldn't help but feel relieved that they had found you. What is going on with you? You could feel Charles as well, the rush of heat behind your back was quite noticeable. Your boys found you…

“So beautiful. Her wetness shines the same as her dress.”

Only now did you realize what he was talking about. Your clothes were revealing. You had them halfway down and the only thing stopping the fabric from going all the way down over your face were your breasts. You were like a sacrifice for both the two, in honor of their presence. You didn't know what to do with yourself, you started shaking if it was even more possible and you wanted to hide, you had never experienced such shame in your entire life.

Someone's fingers started to touch you very sensually at your bound ankles. They slowly moved from side to side and he gradually took it down to your thigh. You held your breath at the fact that this was the first time one of the boys had touched you like this. You felt your bottom flush with blood and you swallowed loudly in response. Charles chuckled at that. Before you could feel even more shame, someone's hands grabbed your thighs tightly and violently and you were suspended to a greater height. Your face was now at Carlos's crotch level and you couldn't help but smell his scent, which you've known so intimately for a few months now. You never realized how used to that smell you are… Carlos continued his act and opened you wide. Your knees were bucked to the sides and Charles pressed into you from behind with such vigor that it was impossible for you to fall down again. You had Carlos in the front and Charles in the back. In their captivity between their bodies that warmed you so.

“We thank god each day for you being so tiny. We can do whatever we please with you.”

“Oh and look Carlos how beautifully she is glistening for us. You waiting for us to devour you right cherie?”

You lost your words at his words. You’ve never experienced such thing, guys only ate you out in bed in a completely normal position, not hang up with your ankles tied together. Carlos growled immediately with your lack of response. You whined so hard because you didn't like the position you were in. You felt the blood rush to your brain and you expected it to get worse and worse.

“Cherie, it will only get worse, you will make us eat you like hungry wolves if you give us even less time.”

Your desperation showed in another wail and you forced yourself to answer them with your cries.

“Y-yes, I w-want you t-to”

“Want to what cariño”

“To e-eat m-me..”

You just had a little bit of time to let out a painful whine before they both started on you. One part of your cunt was handled by Carlos while Charles tore his tongue inside of you, neither of them making sure it was gentle. It was so intense that one whine turned into a loud moan and you no longer recognized who was who. Their tongues melded together as you experienced one intense bliss. They ate you like they hadn't eaten in a month and the more you wiggled and sighed, the more bites they added and you couldn't even bend your back because of how tightly they held you between them.

And so you got carried away. You had already given up on resisting them as your head hurt more and more and it was getting harder and harder to resist them, so you let yourself get carried away by the satisfaction they brought you. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer and the slightest movement from their mouth would cause you pain that you could never have imagined. On the contrary, if it was possible, you tried to immerse yourself in them more and more, because you were afraid that they might break away from you. Their tongues were like at home with your cunt. You let out everything you could, the guys digging their nails into you so deep you were sure they left scars on you as your orgasm accompanied you. The orgasm flew through your whole body to your head, where it was already ringing and you stopped being conscious. You slowly and intensely fell into unconsciousness surrounded by your possessed admirers. Was it the worst or the best thing that could have happened to you?

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“She's such a strong woman you see?”

“Yeah, she did sooo well Carlos. You need to be more nice to her.”

“She doesn't need nice. She needs us.”

You slowly started to wake up and blink your eyelids quickly to relieve yourself from the darkness and look around to see where you are now. You vaguely remembered what happened in the forest and now you were confused as to where you went. You couldn't come up with an answer, but you knew one thing for sure. Your shoulders are stiff and tense. When you took a little time, you found out that your hands were forcibly tied behind your back, someone was holding them. That is, you found yourself in the lap of Carlos, who held your wrists behind your back so much that your chest sticked out. And you knew by the smell that you must be in the car. When your eyes finally started to cooperate with your consciousness as well, you recognised that Charles was sitting in front of you, on the ground where the car seat had been positioned before.

“Hello cherie”

“Charles…”

You looked into his eyes, they were so gentle and carried so much comfort and warmth that you couldn't believe that this Charles was the same Charles from the forest, that animal from the forest that was harassing your pussy, it's a wonder you didn't lose all your humanity.

“I noticed that you have a weird obsession with my rings. You like them a lot don't you baby?”

You looked at him again and just stared blankly at him. Were you that noticeable? Charles has divine hands, and palms, and fingers, and you always wondered why you didn't faint when you saw those rings on his fingers, which you often imagined on your body.

“Y-yes…”

“I thought I could give you some of my rings. Sharing is caring, no?”

Now you had no idea what he meant. What would you do with his rings? You like those rings in the first place because he's wearing them. Before you could think twice, Charles pulled a box out of his pocket. Opening it, he pointed it towards you so you could see what was inside. There were two small circles, black circles. These were definitely not for the fingers. Your confusion was evident from your facial expression. Charles chuckled and continued on.

“I understand your obsession cherie. That's why I'm doing this to you. I give you my rings and you're gonna wear them proudly on your tits.”

That made you squirm a little. And only now did you notice that you were sitting there completely naked. Fear began to flow through your veins again and you waited to see what would happen next. You were excited about it.

“Look at her, she's so excited about it.”

Carlos remembered his presence and you flinched at his sudden reaction. You looked back at Charles who was already taking two small rings with his fingers and pinning them to your nipples. It was a pain that could make you sweat your soul out.

“I want you to wear them to the ceremony. I will buy you better ones later.”

The pain clouded your brain and the only sound you made was a whimper. After which Carlos put more pressure to your wrists. He obviously didn't like any sign of weakness. After a little bit of time you took for yourself to calm down and try to forget about the pain you’ve felt, you tried to remember what was Charles talking about not so long ago.

“About what ceremony are you talking about?”

Charles was creeping inside your cunt and one of his fingers was slowly disappearing inside you. You were watching it from the very first moment and you could come undone just from that.

“For claiming you as ours and keeping you”

Your brain went into overdrive and you slowly went back to thinking that this was all a bad idea and bad for your career. But Carlos, as if reading your mind, started kissing the side of your neck and earlobe. You closed your eyes and Charles added a second finger that sent you back into your dumb fucked state and you let yourself be swept away by the flow of satisfaction again.

“We need to make sure you're ready to take us. You're so tiny and tight baby girl.”

You started to move against him because the only thing you had become was a selfish thing chasing your own satisfaction and forgetting everything else in your joy. You would do anything to bring yourself to the peak. Carlos started biting you and you tilted your head back even more so he could destroy you even more. And you felt the growing thing in his pants that was trying to invade your space with this. You wanted it so bad. And you were so hoping to have them all night just for yourself.

“You want to come on my rings cherie?”

“Y-yes.”

Charles added a third finger and sped up. But you were far from done with your wish.

“And I want you to come on my rings too.”

Charles hissed at that and Carlos bit into your neck like never before. You were closer and closer and you were coming out with the words of Charles's name and his words in the air filling your ears.

“Come for me then cherie.”

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

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garoujo · 1 year

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✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU ; — your plug geto thinks you’re more addictive than anything he’s ever tried.

warnings: f!reader, plug!geto, weed use, shot gunning (i’ll never stop), honestly i still get so nervous writing him cause i’m not too happy w my characterisation but i rly wanted to write this idea, half proof-read & v messy! note: sorry but he lives in my mind rent free <3

the knock on the door was telling to who it was before you answered, not that you were expecting anyone else at almost 1am, but you still think he seemed to get unfairly more attractive everytime you greeted him in your doorway.

your plug, geto suguru, was too attractive actually — half of his dark hair typed back but it still remains messy enough to frame his pretty features. he was dressed in nothing but sweats and an oversized hoodie, finished off with a just as oversized jacket that just fit him perfectly and you’re pretty sure he’s used to his.. clientele drooling over him at this point when the smile he offers you is a little teasing but still kind.

“hm, can i come in, pretty girl?” the pet name was like honey between his teeth, like it was easy as he takes a careful step into your apartment but his eyes are still on you when he turns to meet you, tilting his head as he lets his gaze trail along your skin.

“did you bring it?”

“mhm.”

but geto can’t deny that among all of his clients you’re his favourite — always so willing to smoke out his new stock with him because hes always oh so eager to hear your opinion, to feel it when your pussy is stretched around the weight of his cock because he knows that alone will tell him all he needs.

he always gives you an adoring look as he waits for your words, cool metal of his rings palming at your ass as he holds the joint out to you with the other — his own gaze is lidded and drowsy but it’s still on you when you lean into catch the end between your lips. your pouty lips kiss the pad of his fingers lightly and he spreads your cheeks before he offers you a deep, languid thrust that makes you twitch — almost choke as he watches you inhale with his lower lip between his teeth and a crooked grin.

“careful.” geto drawls deliberately as he lets his head tilt to the side again, followed by a breathless croon of a chuckle when you cast him a frown as he watches you inhale. but he thinks you’re like an angel when your blown out gaze meets his before you lean back, half-lidded as you hold the smoke between your lips and let him see the way your pretty tits bounce with the next intoxicating twist of your hips.

“feels like you like this one. fuck, y’re sensitive.” he grunts as he lets his free hand swipe tentatively over your clit — making your rocking body tremble with a mixture of want and need as you all but melt into him. your mind feels like it’s full of cotton and the way he makes your insides curl and ache everytime he sinks his cock into you is only heightened by the new strain.

another addictive bounce along the length of geto’s cock makes your head roll back until you’re exhaling, and he takes a long draw of the joint between his own smirking lips before his hand squeezes at your hips. “mhm~ ‘ts so good, sugu.” you answer eventually and he can’t help the way one side of his grin seems to stretch wider as he offers you a slow blink with his next smokey breath.

“shit, look so fuckin’ pretty when you say it like that.” his name he means because even despite the weed he can’t help the way you make him feel lightheaded, eager for more as he meets every eager roll of your hips with one of his own just so he can feel the way you squeeze harder around him the deeper he goes.

the smoke of geto’s exhale curls into the room and you let your head roll forward to watch it before you offer him a drowsy blink. you feel fuzzy — like your mouth is suddenly dry and your body feels heavy despite how easy you seem to be dragging yourself along his cock. the tingling along your limbs is only exaggerated by how perfectly the blunt head is gliding along your swollen spots and it makes you bear down on him eagerly as he helps you bounce on his lap.

“look at you.” he grits as he lets his large palm graze between the valley of your breasts before he takes a slow, languid handful to squeeze and you feel his praise drip through you before you giggle.

“‘ts just the weed.”

“nah, you’re jus’ beautiful.” geto’s reply is honest despite the way its slightly muffled by the blunt being placed back between his lips, letting the silence hang in the space where you both take a breath before he’s pulling you closer. you let your fingers graze underneath the oversized neckline of his hoodie as you sway forward, scratching along the ivory skin before he trembles and you offer him a pretty, starry-eyed look before you grin.

“awww, am i your favourite?” it’s meant playfully, but he’s so hypnotised by the way your eyelashes kiss your cheeks with your slow blink that he can’t help but draw you in before he answers. your fingers naturally twist in his dark hair as he kisses you and his gruff sigh is accompanied by the heat of his exhale when his previous draw floods your mouth, letting you inhale the smokey breath instinctively as your chest presses closer against his.

you’re much too enthralled by the dreamy tightness in your chest that only geto seems to give you that you can barely remember your question. but he lets you lose yourself in him as he grinds up into your warm pussy, his tongue gliding along your own until you feel like your melting from where he’s got you held tight in his lap before he pulls away to peck at your swollen lips.

“thought that much was obvious, pretty girl.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#cw weed #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x you #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut

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lunargrapejuice · 19 days

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your seph fics are multiplying !! time to add more 🎀 (p.s. i love you. you're literally so sweet)

sephiroth, who goes out with f!reader to drink and brings them back to their room very drunk and horny. although he doesn't let anything happen and they interact very sweetly with each other, it's almost funny.

eeee i was blushing and so mushy writing this hghgklhdg thank you so much for requesting and helping me add to my seph fics! i adore you<3

sephiroth x drunk!reader with no pronouns used

warnings: 16+ please, suggestive, tooth rotting fluff, as usual with me pre nibelheim seph

walking through the streets of midgar never failed to draw the attention of many for sephiroth. anywhere he walked there were always eyes on him and even now in late evening, the few citizens that are out can’t help themselves all while they’re pretending not to stare in awe or fear or some mix of the two. but there is only one pair that he cares to pay any mind to and they also seem to be the most intense of the looks cast his way at this moment, the most daring to not break away from the soldiers intimidating aura.

he feels your eyes on him before he looks down to see you staring intently at his face, as if to study every inch of his sharp features and count every long eyelash, not at all paying attention to the sidewalk in front of you and it makes his arm around you tighten. his eyes meet yours and hold your gaze. your face scrunches in question but he feels you lean a bit more against him and he can’t suppress the smile tugging at his lips as you continue to look at him acutely and adorably.

“is there something on my face?” he asks, his voice soft and laced with a teasing undertone.

you don’t answer his question but instead ask one of your own. “how c’m you don’t look drunk? like - at all.” your serious expression drops with your slurred words. “you and angeal drank soooo much,” you add, bursting into a giggle, like the memory of watching them down drinks with laughs and smiles replays back into your mind. “thought genesis might die tryin’ to keep up.”

“you drank quite a bit yourself,” sephiroth says, though you weren’t wrong about how much he and angeal had but both of them were far from lightweights. truthfully, he isn’t quite sure he’s ever been fully ‘drunk’ but after tonight there is a warm hum that lingers in his spine and spreads to his cheeks and chest. though he could argue you weren’t helping with that aspect either but it's not as though he wants it to end.

“hehe- *hick* i did,” you agree happily, added proof of the nice time you’ve had tonight with sephiroth and his friends and it makes his chest swell.

your steps begin to slow until you stop entirely right outside your apartment building and he follows easily, keeping right next to you, ready to carry you upstairs if you need it. your normal scent mixed with alcohol permeates in the air between you as you take a wobbly step closer to your boyfriend, barely leaving space for the night air to slip between your rising and falling chests.

he holds onto your waist with both of his large hands, helping keep you upright in your drunken state while your own hands reach for his face, the tips of your fingers brushing along his brow as you move hair from his face, the other caressing his cheek. his entire being softens, his heart skipping a beat at your loving touch and the way you look at him as if he himself was the moon and stars and you were a wanderer basking in the etherealness of a silvery sparkling night sky for the first time.

“you look as pretty as ever,” your words come out hushed, like maybe you hadn’t meant to voice them but you couldn’t keep them back, not when you felt the truth of it so strongly, drunk or not. he really was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. your curious fingers move towards his lips and you stand on your toes to reach him, your body rocking as you add a bit louder with a suppressed giggle, “‘n very sober.”

sephiroth chuckles and feels the heat in his cheeks spreading to his ears. keeping one hand on your waist with a light squeeze, his free hand wraps around your wrist. the lack of leather between your skin would have been enough to make you smile ear to ear but you’re stunned frozen when he kisses the pads of your fingers, pressing them gently into his lips, and you hardly have the strength to stand at the weakness in your knees but sephiroth holds you steady against him.

“you, my dear, are far prettier,” he speaks the words against your fingers and your eyes remain locked on him as he kisses your hand again with a flutter of his lashes. “but i am mostly sober.”

“unfair,” you mean to say, though you don’t know how well it comes out when every functioning part of you is either drunk or tingling with the feelings sephiroth stirs inside of you, the kind that’s all consuming and world stopping and has you burying your face in the softness of the button up shirt he’s wearing.

“perhaps it’s a side effect of the mako,” he says in an attempt to satisfy your curiosity though he doesn’t really believe it himself but there wasn’t an explanation for a lot of differences he has compared to others and this was just another. it’s one he’s never been bothered by, especially when it meant he could ensure you were safe while you got to have as much as you’d like.

your feet fall flat to the ground and you push yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his slim waist and resting your cheek on his chest like you’re trying to comfort him. “.. don’ need the mako. you’re perfect jus the way you are.”

sepehiroth holds you for a moment without speaking a word, his lips resting against the crown of your head but after a few seconds pass you can feel him smiling as he whispers into your hair. “is that so?”

squeezing him tighter, you nod with complete certainty, “‘s true.”

suddenly it feels like you’re weightless, as if you’re being carried in the wind and you yelp at the loss of solid ground and the way the world moves and spins but the strong arms at your back and under your legs, the chest you snuggle into, quickly make you feel safe, comfortable. once you have your bearings in his hold, with each long stride sephiroth takes into your apartment building you’re rocking your feet back and forth in glee and kissing the edge of his jaw, the smile you wear searing into his skin and imprinting against his heart.

every ding of the elevator making its way to your floor, every step down the hallway towards your apartment at the end of the hall, has your kissing growing hotter, less chaste and your teeth beginning to nip at his neck. you can feel the flushing of his skin under your lips and it only brings you deeper into the hypnotizing, intoxicating, state you’re currently in, where the only thing on your mind, in your world, is sephiroth.

like every bit of him and the love you share is coursing through your veins and into your heart and you would perish without it. the way you hold onto him, with how your lips taste every inch of his skin they can reach, it’s as though you’re worried you might have to be without but he wasn’t going anywhere. not without you.

right outside your apartment door, with a squeeze to your thighs, his voice is deep and you feel its rumble in his chest as he speaks low. “little love.” it’s a gentle warning but it doesn’t seem to halt the heat building inside of you and how bold your touches become. they only grow bolder from the moment he steps inside your place and kicks the door closed behind him.

making his way to your room, your unsteady fingers fumble with the first button of his shirt and then the second and your tongue pokes from between your lips to taste the supple skin of his neck, right over his pulse. as addicting and wonderful and loving as your kisses are, he takes in a deep breath to reign in his composure. the breath is so full of your scent it makes him light headed in a way alcohol never could but the lingering smell of the bitter liquid on your lips makes it easy for him to hold onto his calmness despite how determined you are to get your way.

pressing his fingers into your side lightly, your lips break from his neck and you burst into a laugh at the ticklish feeling, giving him the perfect chance to place you in your bed with a gentle plop but you aren’t keen to let go of him and with more strength than he was expecting, you pull him down with you.

in the tumble of your bodies and your relentless wiggling, you end up on top of him with your hands on his chest and your legs straddling his hips. you rest perfectly over his slightly hard cock and sephiroth watches your eyes darken when you attempt to rock against him but his reflexes are faster than yours, even when you’re sober, and he quickly stops you before you can grind against him.

you whimper in protest, desperate to feel him, have him, and you try again but he’s yet again faster than you when he captures your wrist in his grasp before you can unbutton more of his shirt. his grip is tender but unrelenting in its hold while his other hand keeps your hips in place, not giving you any chance for the upperhand.

“sephiroth!” you whine, looking down at him as though you might cry, your hands balling into fists and bunching up the fabric of his shirt in your hold.

“not tonight sweetheart,” his words are soothing and kind and to ease you more, his thumb rubs circles into your skin over your shirt and he lets go of your wrist in favor of pulling you down towards his chest with his hand cradling the back of your skull.

you don’t fight him as he takes control and rolls you with slowness until you’re resting in the plush sheets and sephiroths broad frame hovers above you, long silver locks falling beside your head like pools of starlight. your eyes are pleading, glossy for more reason than one, your bottom lip set in a pout he would have given into any sober night.

“but i need you. please-”

he calls your name, his tone serious, leaving no room for discussion or worries but remains so full of care and love that only grows deeper when he leans down, letting his lips brush along your cheeks as he whispers, “when i get to have you, it won’t be when i can’t make love to you properly.” he chooses his words carefully, not wanting you to feel bad for desiring him. that was the very last thing he wanted, next to taking any kind of advantage of you or possibly hurting you.

“.. ‘m sorry,” your voice shakes rather than slurs like it had most of your walk home, your body filling with shame and anxiousness that makes an extra uncomfortable mix of emotions settling in your stomach along with the alcohol you drank. you try to hold back the tears on your lash line and hide the wobble of you lip by biting down but like sephiroth knew it was coming, he brings a hand up to swipe along the skin below your lip, coaxing you to let it go and the next moment catches the tear that escapes against your drunken will.

“there’s nothing to apologize for angel,” he kisses your cheek, comfortingly pressing a bit of his weight on you and holding your face in his palm. “i need you too. more than you know.” another kiss, this time at the edge of your lips. “will you wait for me?”

the warmth of his breath on your skin, the tickle of his hair and scent of his shampoo, all along with his proximity eases your anxious heart and ceases your tears as quickly as they came. “i’d do anything ‘f you seph.” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tender kiss.

he doesn’t get a chance to tell you how much he would do for you too, that there are no lengths he wouldn’t go for you and your love but no words are needed when his lips tell you it all and more. unhurried, basking in every press of your soft lips against each others, his massive body melts into the bed next to your and he pulls you flush against him as you share kiss after sweet kiss.

there’s no telling how much time passes before your lips break but when sephiroth pulls away it’s only far enough to rest his forehead on yours. you share every breath, every heartbeat and he doesn’t know where you begin or he ends, both in body and soul. he feels the bliss of your smile in his heart as if it is his own and you hold onto him with just as much tender and urgent adoration as he does you.

you’re the first to break the comfortable silence between you. “i love you, you know that?”

“i do," he lets out a soft sigh at the confession of your feelings, unsure if he will ever get used to hearing the words but please tell him again and again. "i love you too. i’ll love you forever.”

your breath catches, like you can’t believe it’s true but are excited about it all the same. starting to rub the tip of your nose against his, you add in a drunken whisper, “really? forevers a long time.”

“a very long time,” he emphasizes with a feather light kiss to your lips. “and i will love and protect you every second of it.”

main masterlist

#final fantasy vii #sephiroth #sephiroth x reader #final fantasy vii x reader #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #ffvii #ff7 x reader

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calicoheartz · 17 days

Note

hi could u pls write about Paige comforting and helping reader who tries but can’t get her grades up and just feels overwhelmed due to some friendship issues too pls ? You could do different parts or a fic abt this would be rlly nice pls 💐💐

Whispers of Comfort ; Paige Bueckers

꣑୧ — summary | just paige comforting you with your personal struggles 💌💐❤️‍🩹

wc ; 900

— warnings | tw mentions of depression , anxiety , mental health , angst (has a happy ending dw!!)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : this is somewhat similar to one of my other fics that you can read here , so I tried to add a different spin on it! Enjoy :)

The fluorescent lights of the university library cast a harsh glow over the hunched figure buried in textbooks and notes. That figure was you, desperately trying to make sense of the chaos of academics that seemed determined to swallow you whole. Yet, despite your best efforts, the numbers on your latest exam paper stared back at you with cruel finality—another failure in a long line of disappointments.

Your heart sank in remembrance of the unfortunate outcome of the test you studied hours for, the test you dedicated to studying for almost 3 weeks in advance. Your heart sank as the weight of inadequacy settled in your chest, suffocating you with each labored breath. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to hold back the overwhelming tide of despair threatening to consume you whole.

“Hey, mind if I join you?”

You quickly recognized the sweet and gentle voice, startled, you looked up to find your girlfriend standing right before you, with a concerned look marring her brow. Her presence alone was enough to ease the tightness in your chest, offering a small glimmer of hope amidst the uneasiness and darkness that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Paige..” you managed to stutter out, your voice echoing with emotion. “I didn’t expect to see you here, I thought you were at home?”

A sympathetic smile graced the blondes lips, as she took the seat opposite of you, as her eyes filled with genuine concern.

“You weren’t answering any of my texts, so I figured you’d be here. I couldn’t help but wonder what was on your mind.” she said softly, her voice laced with sincerity. “Is everything okay?”

Paige knew you had struggled this year academically, but she never knew to what extent. You were ashamed to ask her for help, I mean compared to her you’re only a fraction of her success. While she’s an all american academic, juggling both sports and her studies, you were even struggling to pass a simple quiz or project. Which in term made it very difficult to ask her for help, afraid she would realize that you weren’t worth her time.

It’s almost as if the floodgates collapsed, the weight of your burdens spilling out a torrent of pent-up emotions. You poured your heart out to Paige, confessing the struggles that had plagued you for weeks - the sleepless nights spent studying, the countless hours wasted in a fruitless pursuit of academic perfection, the forgotten and skipped meals, everything seeming to slowly creep up onto you all seemingly at once.

Paige listened intently, offering words of comfort and trying to understand as you bared your soul into her. In her presence, the walls you had built around your heart began to crumble, revealing the vulnerable soul that lay beneath the facade of strength you had so carefully constructed.

"I just don't know what to do anymore," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get my grades up. And on top of that, I'm having issues with my friends..."

Your words trailed off, a sense of helplessness washing over you as you struggled to articulate the depth of your despair. Paige reached out, her hand intertwining between yours in a gesture of solidarity that sent warmth spreading through your veins.

"You're not alone, you know," she said gently, her voice a soothing balm to the wounds of self-doubt that had long plagued your spirit. "We all face challenges in life, but it's how we confront them that defines who we are. You're doing the best you can, and that's all anyone can ask for."

Her words resonated with you, striking a chord deep within your soul as you looked into her eyes and saw the unwavering belief reflected there. In Paige's presence, you found the strength to confront the demons that had held you captive for so long, emboldened by the knowledge that you were not alone in your struggles.

Together, you and Paige embarked on a journey of self-discovery, navigating the treacherous waters of academia and interpersonal relationships with unwavering determination. With each passing day, you found solace in each other's company, drawing strength from the unbreakable bond that had formed between you.

As the weeks turned into months, you began to see glimpses of progress—small victories that served as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. With Paige by your side, you faced each challenge head-on, armed with the unwavering belief that together, you could overcome anything life threw your way.

And in the quiet moments shared between late-night study sessions and heartfelt conversations, you discovered something far more precious than academic success or fleeting friendships. You found solace in each other, a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, bound by the unbreakable ties of love and understanding.

In Paige's arms, you found refuge from the storm raging within, a sanctuary where the burdens of the world melted away in the warmth of her embrace. And as you leaned into her, basking in the glow of her unwavering affection, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, you would face them together, united in a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space.

For in the midst of chaos, you had found peace, and with the love of your life Paige, you had found home.

we love good girlfriend Paige !! i want a paige in my life 🥴😞 as always , thank you for reading !!

psa ! if u are struggling w mental health my dms are always open 💗 rmb that ur so loved by me and so many others

#wlw #wlw imagine #wcbb #my hcs #headcannons #wcbb x reader #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #iowa wbb #anxi4ty #positive mental attitude #mental health #ily #ilysm

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mariclerc · 6 days

Text

Three hearts, one bed | cl16 & ls2

Summary: after the race, both you and your boys are very tired from all the action.

Warning: none, just fluff, shy reader.

a/n: dedicated to @bananaleclerc love u girl <3

The plush hotel suite is bathed in the warm glow of bedside lamps, Charles and Logan are sprawl on the king-sized bed, both clad in soft white and black sweatpants. Charles, with his dark hair damp and a faint sheen of sweat, looks exhausted but content. Logan, his blonde hair tousled, leans against the headboard, a playful glint in his eyes. You are accompanying them to one of the night races in Singapore, which is usually one of the hottest on the calendar. You love to accompany them whenever you have time, you are their biggest fan and, well, it's your job as their girlfriend.

They both watch you as you stand by the window, gazing out at the glittering cityscape. For them you look absolutely breathtaking in a simple silk sleep dress, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on your face. However, a self-conscious blush creeps up your neck as you feel their stares.

“Hey there, lovely! Are you enjoying the view?” Logan says while grinning.

You turn, a shy smile gracing your lips. “Yeah, it's beautiful.” you say softly.

Charles reach out a hand towards you. “Come join us, amore. You must be tired too.” (love) Hesitantly, you approach the bed. Charles pats the spot beside him, his voice gentle. “There's plenty of room for the three of us.”

You climb in, scooting between them. Charles immediately wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You snuggle into his side, inhaling the comforting scent of his shampoo. Logan leans his head back, propping it on a hand, his gaze roaming over your face.

“You know, you don't have to be shy with us, y/n, we adore you completely... even the quiet moments.” Logan says.

“Logan's right chérie. You're perfect just the way you are.” Charles says with a shy smile. (darling)

You blush again, but this time, a warmth spreads through you. You steal a glance at Logan, then back at Charles.

“Thanks, guys, you don't know how much that means.” you mumble.

Logan let out a chuckle. “Oh, we know pretty girl. We see the way you look at us, the way you light up when we're around.”

He winks, and you can't help but giggle. Charles nuzzles your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Come on, let's get some rest. You must be beat after all that traveling and cheering on us during the race.” Charles says smiling.

“Yeah, I am a little tired.” you say drowsily.

“Don't worry, beautiful. We'll take good care of you.”

Charles winks again, and you snuggle deeper between them, feeling a sense of belonging and love wash over you. The exhaustion of the day melts away, replaced by a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. Charles and Logan exchange a satisfied look over your head, both knowing they wouldn't trade this moment for anything.

Your eyelids flutter shut, lulled by the warmth of Charles' embrace and the gentle rhythm of Logan's breathing beside you. A content sigh escapes your lips as sleep begins to claim your body.

Charles notices your peaceful slumber and brushes a stray hair from your face with his thumb. He leans in and whispers softly in your ear.

“Dors bien, mon ange.” he whispered. (Sleep well, my angel.)

“Bonne nuit, Charles.” you mumble (Good night, Charles.)

Logan, watching the exchange unfold, can't help but smile. He extends a hand and gently strokes your other cheek with his thumb.

“Sweet dreams, baby. We'll be right here when you wake up.” he whispers too.

“Love you both.” you say sleepily.

A contented sigh escapes your lips once more, and you drifts off to sleep. Charles and Logan share a look, the silence filled with unspoken understanding and affection.

“She's incredible, isn't she?” Charles whispers.

Logan nod at the monegasque whisper. “The most incredible girl... We're lucky to have her.”

A comfortable silence descends upon the room once more. However, this time, it's punctuated by the soft sound of a chuckle from Logan.

“You know, Charles, I was thinking... that room service menu looked pretty tempting.”

Charles raise an eyebrow. ”Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“Something to keep our energy up for tomorrow morning. Maybe some champagne and a little... dessert?” Logan wink at Charles.

Charles smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Sounds like a plan, mon petit prince... Just make sure to keep it quiet, wouldn't want to wake our sleeping beauty.” (my little prince)

Logan smiles widely. “Leave that to me. We wouldn't want to startle the love of our lives.”

They both lean down, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead before turning towards each other, a playful glint in their eyes.

The room falls silent once more, punctuated only by the gentle rhythm of your breathing. Charles watches your chest rise and fall, a wave of tenderness washing over him. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment.

A soft sigh escapes Logan's lips, and Charles turns to see his boyfriend looking at him with a sleepy smile.

“We're so damn lucky to have her with us Charlie.”

Charles nods and blushes at the nickname. “Oh yeah, absolutely.”

There's a comfortable silence between them, a silent conversation filled with shared love and appreciation for you. It lingers for a moment before Logan reaches out, his fingers brushing against Charles' cheek.

“You know? A little sleep might be nice after all that racing... Care to join me... mon coeur?” Logan says. (My heart?)

Charles' eyes soften, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Bien sûr, mon ange.” (Of course, my angel.)

They both lean in, their lips meeting in a soft, warm, lingering kiss... It's a kiss filled with unspoken affection, a quiet promise for later, and the comfort of knowing they have each other.

As they pull apart, a pleasant drowsiness washes over them. Logan snuggles closer to Charles, his head resting on his chest, they are both blushing and flustered.

“Goodnight Charlie.” Logan says, snuggling close to you and Charles.

“Goodnight Lo, sweet dreams.” Charles says placing his arm over you and Logan.

Exhaustion finally claims them both, and their eyelids flutter shut. The room falls silent once more, this time with the peaceful rhythm of their combined breathing.

The moonlight casts a soft glow over the three of you, the slow breaths, the tangled limbs of the three of you, a picture of love and contentment.

#formula one x reader #logan sargeant x reader #charles leclerc fluff #poly!drivers #mariclerc fics #poly!drivers x reader #poly!f1 #charles leclerc x reader #logan x y/n #charles x y/n #logan x shy reader #charles x shy reader #charles x logan x reader #f1 x you #logan sargeant fluff #cl16 x ls2 x reader

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runningthroughthegarden · 1 year

Text

makeup and sloppy kisses

you and Jack haven't been spending much time together because of your conflicting filming schedules so you have to cherish every minute you get. it's a comfortable night in your apartment and you got the amazing idea to do his makeup.

pure fluff <3

makeup products are scattered all over the ground while jacks tall figure is slouched against the end of your bed.

"jack please stop squirming so much" you plead in between giggles.

"you're literally stabbing things in my eyeball!!" he half screams.

"not even!! c'mon just a little longer" you respond.

the sounds of fleetwood mac hum in the background of your conversation, the vinyl turning in endless circles. the soft light of your room casting a golden glow on your faces.

"okay hold on I need a better angle" you whisper, moving items around.

you position yourself on his lap to get a closer look at his eyes. you brush slightly past his shoulder to grab a pencil liner. jack examines your face at this newfound closeness.

"yknow I could really get used to this" he says.

"oh shut up" you respond as a blush spreads across your face. you finish his eyeliner but choose to stay in this comfortable position.

a comfortable silence fills the room as you graze different powders across jack's skin. his eyes dance around your face, intently studying every feature.

"i think you're the most angelic person i have ever seen" jack says, barely above a whisper.

you smile and let out a slight laugh. ducking your head so he doesn't see the bright pink flush painting your cheeks.

"hey im serious" he laughs, bringing his hand to hold your cheek.

you stare at him for a moment before he brings his lips to yours. his lips taste like the cherry lip gloss you applied just a few minutes before. lips parting, your foreheads rest against each other's.

"i think you're really pretty too" you whisper.

you take his face in your hands, finally allowing yourself to scan his features. the eyeliner perfectly smudged around his eyes and the light pink tint on his lips.

"i love you" he confesses.

"i love you too" you respond.

jack places yet another kiss on your lips. you bring your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. he parts once again.

"stop staring so much you dork" you laugh.

"what i cant help it!!" he explains.

he begins kissing your entire face, nose, cheeks, forehead, lips.

"jack!!!" you say completely laughing.

he doesn't respond and keeps peppering your face with kisses.

"you just ruined the perfect piece of art i just created!" you half complain half joke.

"well looks like you'll have to start over" he says stealing one last kiss.

a/n: short but cute :) my requests are open!

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #scream #scream vi

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cordeliawhohung · 8 months

Text

Death of Me - Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part six (and then some) of "Soft Spot"

Simon finally asks you to dance. It ends up being a lot more than you anticipated.

warnings: smut!! soft!Simon! oral (f and m receiving), simon folds you in half, you get to ride him (sorta), lots of teasing, slight overstim if you squint, praising, creampie, slight body worship? a lot of smut and a lot of plot

wc: 6.9k

A single dim lamp was the only thing that greeted you and Simon as you entered the bedroom.

Its pallid yellow hue didn’t do much to liven the area, but it did cast enough light to guide you to the bed, which you headed straight for. All the excitement from the ball had worn off and left you with a heavy feeling in your eyelids instead. You attempted to blink that feeling away to no avail as you sat on the edge of the bed and began the grueling task of wrestling with the skirt of your dress so that you could free yourself of your heels.

Simon’s eyes watched you quietly while he pulled the mask off of his face, revealing clean shaven skin, which you had so tactfully pointed out no one would have even noticed if he hadn’t shaved anyway. Once his mask laid limply on top of the dresser, he found himself trying hard to suppress a small smirk as you still struggled with the straps of your heels.

“Need help?” he prompted. The soft, rubbery soles of his dress shoes were more malleable than the thick material of the work boots he normally wore, which made his footsteps more quiet as he walked towards the bed.

“Nope,” you responded quickly.

Within a moment you were on your feet once more with those blasted heels dangling from your fingers. With the extra height gone, it felt as if the center of your feet were falling through the floor as you stood up to grin at him. His eyes continued to follow you as you turned around and walked towards the closet door. Each step you took was slow and uncertain as the sudden change in terrain threw your balance off.

“Did you have fun tonight?” you questioned as the closet door squeaked open.

“Was I supposed to?” he asked, but you could hear the smirk in his tone.

You rolled your eyes as you bent down and began to rummage through the various shoeboxes you had stacked in the far back corner. Though it wasn’t necessary, you always kept those darn boxes. Made it easier to store things in the closet if your dress shoes were stacked in a tower rather than shoved against the wall on the floor.

“Well, I had fun,” you said. You quickly found the empty box and fumbled around trying to arrange your shoes inside so that you could close it up properly. “Johnny shared some interesting stuff about you.”

“Did he, now?” Something of a chuckle sounded behind you as Simon walked to the edge of the bed behind you and sat down. You could hear the slight creaking of the frame underneath his weight as he sunk into the mattress.

You nodded your head as you tidied up the boxes before standing up. Every inch you straightened up caused your knees to scream in protest, but you ignored it as you turned around to face Simon. The sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed, suit still mostly intact, and legs spread as he rested his elbows on his knees… perhaps you weren’t as tired as your body tried convincing you. Your mind was certainly wide awake at that point as your eyes drank him in not-so-tactfully.

“Yeah,” you confirmed as you placed your hands on your hips. The dark umber of his eyes were fixated on your face as your lips slowly pulled into a quiet grin. “He told me you still carry around that stupid handkerchief I gave you. Said that’s how he knew you had a girlfriend.”

If his expression changed at all, you didn’t catch it. His eyes seemed lost as they flickered in short intervals, exploring your face. Darting from your nose, to your lips, to your neck, daring to dip even as low as where your hands rested on the firm bones of your hips.

“Smart bastard,” was his only response.

You hummed as you stood there in thought for a moment. It was difficult to focus on anything other than him at that moment. His gaze was something you craved, and you could never get enough of the way it made your heart involuntarily race. Your heart always betrayed you in some capacity. It made the blood race through your body, causing your fingertips to pulse as they begged to touch him, feel him against your skin. Intimacy used to scare you, terrify you. It was strange how much you craved it ever since Simon came around.

Before he could become wiser about the thoughts swimming around in your head, you shifted your gaze to the floor as you put on what could only be described as a poor excuse for a contortionist's act. Awkward hands reached behind your back as you attempted to grab the thin zipper that held your dress together. It seemed that whoever designed dresses loved to put women in terrible and uncomfortable positions in order to undress themselves without aid, which was something you were failing at, and quite terribly. For a moment you had gotten a somewhat steady hold on the zipper, but only pulled it down an inch or so before it snagged on something, causing it to slip from your fingers.

You didn’t even need to look up at Simon to know that he was internally chuckling at your struggle, but you looked up at him anyway with an expectant look on your face. “Mind helping a girl out?” you asked, hands once more returning to your hips.

“Thought you didn’t need my help,” he said as he shifted forward with an eyebrow raised. You tried not to pay attention to the way his tattoo poked out from underneath his sleeve, and you certainly didn’t want to entertain the feeling it stirred inside of you.

“Yeah, I didn’t two seconds ago, but I do now,” you retorted.

Despite your banter, Simon stood from the bed, his height towering upwards as he mosied on up to you. Once he was within arms reach, you turned around, exposing your back to him so that he could free you from the confines of your dress. A hand came to rest on your lower back as he held the fabric of the dress steady while the other firmly gripped the zipper. With a firm tug, he fastened the dress with a single zip upwards, effectively trapping you within that cloth prison once more.

“Simon…” you groaned. The back of your head met his firm chest as you leaned back against him with a grumbling huff. “You’re not very helpful.”

“We haven’t danced yet,” he responded simply.

His comment caught you off guard, and you found your brows drawing close together. “Huh?”

Hot air suddenly brushed against the shell of your ear and you felt your skin tense with goosebumps. Simon curled forward, lips brushing against your earlobe as his voice rumbled through you in a soft whisper.

“I said we haven’t gotten to dance yet,” he repeated. Your legs would have turned to jelly and caused you to collapse on the floor if it wasn’t for his hand still on the small of your back holding you in place.

He had to know what he did to you. The hand placement like he was ready to pull you in, his lips ever so slightly nipping at your ear. You could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest go straight to your stomach and then wander ever lower with a searing heat. It was quite clear what he was really asking, but Simon had a way of buttering you up before ever initiating anything more serious, which you didn’t mind one bit. Still, it didn't mean you couldn’t play with him a little.

“Well,” you said, a sight hum to your words as you slowly turned to face him. His hand slid along your back as you moved and it caught onto your hip while your hands came up to rest on his chest. You leaned forward, fluttering your eyelashes while you tilted your head to the side. “Ask me to dance, then.”

A deep breath expanded the cavity of his chest and you felt your hands move with him. His free hand came up and cupped your cheek, and the warmth of his skin felt divine against yours. You wanted more of it, of him. The only thing stopping you from giving into that burning want in your stomach was your own self control. You let out a shaky breath as you leaned into his hand.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked you, properly this time.

You grinned up at him as your arms slowly slid closer to his neck. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Moments later the two of you were dancing with nothing to accompany you but the sound of your own breaths. It wasn’t a proper dance by any means, as you two slowly rotated in small circles. It replicated something more akin to a penguin waddle than any waltz, but you didn’t care about the dance itself. His hand moved away from your cheek in order to grab your hand, and though you wanted to complain, you instead rested your head against the thick muscle of his pec as replacement. In that position you could hear the sound of his heart thud perfectly throughout the chasm of his chest, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it was always so steady. Strong and thudding like a horse galloping in slow motion.

And god, the smell of him. He must have worn something different, like a cologne he saved for special occasions, or maybe he used some new type of soap, but whatever it was it was mouthwatering. It was a sharp but subtle scent that reminded you of the woods your mother took you to as a child, and a hint of the cool river water you dipped your hands into.

“You look good in a suit,” you spoke up. Your voice sounded odd with one of your ears pressed against his chest, like half your body was under water. “Should find an excuse for you to wear it more often.”

“Wouldn’t be as special if I wore it all the time,” Simon pointed out.

You slowly lifted your head off of his chest and your eyes began to instantly wander. Something so pristine and clean pressed did look somewhat out of place on a man such as him. The scars on his face, rigid and always angry, popped out against the formal wear, but in some strange way it made your stomach churn with desire.

“I suppose,” you said, your eyes wandering further down his body.

The expanse of his chest only seemed to become more prominent in his attire, and the way the buttoned up suit jacket accentuated his waist from his broad shoulders was almost enough to make your mouth water. You weren’t sure how you weren’t gawking at him earlier. Perhaps it was just the nerves, but you were glad your body had come out of shock and had finally started to enjoy what was in front of you.

Soon enough, it wasn’t just your eyes that were wandering. The hand that was lazily resting on his shoulder while the two of you spun in slow circles began to drift along his collarbones and then down to his chest. His body seemed to react on instinct, leaning into your touch as if silently begging for more. You tilted your head at him while your fingers intertwined with the delicate silk of his tie before you gave it a firm tug.

“So,” you said as you raised yourself up on your toes, “I guess I better enjoy it while I can, then.”

It was too much for the both of you. The heat that festered between the two of you threatened to melt you to the bone and it built and built until it finally dispersed in a fiery blaze. The hand that held yours while you danced suddenly pulled away from your fingers to engulf the side of your face once more, and not even a moment later Simon’s lips were on yours. It was needy and maybe a little rough, but it pulled a content groan from you anyway.

For a second time that night Simon’s hand pulled away from your body, and this time you really did whine. A plump pout appeared on your bottom lip as you pulled out of the kiss and looked up at him with eyes that all but demanded him to touch you again. Instead of giving into your demands, his hands moved between the two of you as he undid the buttons on his jacket. It had a difficult time sliding off of his shoulders, as broad and thick as they were, but he eventually shimmied it down his arms before tossing it onto the foot of the bed. Next came his tie, which you let go of in order to let him loosen it. That was discarded somewhere you didn’t even care to pay attention to.

Once more his lips were on yours, and this time both hands held your face to hold you in place as you devoured one another. Simon was starving, you could tell by the way his lips pressed against yours with bruising force and how his breaths quickly became labored. You felt yourself stumble slightly as he pulled away from the kiss, leaving you breathless and off balance like he ripped away the very ground you stood upon.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said, his voice nothing but a low rumble.

His hands trailed down from your face, to your waist before carefully rubbing along your back. Then it was open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, and you gasped in surprise at the sudden intensity of it, but you didn’t fight back against the way your head rolled to the side to give him more access. Expert fingers unzipped your dress, and the fabric fell limp around your arms as the entirety of your back became exposed. You dropped your arms to the side for a moment, allowing the silky chiffon to flutter to the ground in a puddle around your ankles.

Because of the nature of your dress, you didn’t wear a bra, so when the fabric dropped to the floor you were completely exposed to Simon, save for a simple pair of panties. It always went that way, though. The man was either too excited or too hungry to ever think about removing his own clothing before getting to you, and that night was no exception.

His kisses continued down your neck and moved even lower. A soft nip to your collarbone had your arms wrapping around his neck, but he dived even deeper; to the soft peak of your breasts, your sternum… before you knew it, he was on his knees in front of you, hands holding your waist as he looked up at you and planted a heavy kiss below your belly button.

The sight of him on his knees in front of you, like he was worshiping you, was intoxicating. It looked a little out of place on him, and maybe a little silly; his stature screamed that he should be the one towering over you at all times. But when his hand slowly began to travel up the inside of your thigh, it was very clear he was still the one in charge, and he was just getting started.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, lips brushing against the softness of your lower belly. A careful but accurate thumb brushed across your clothed clit, and your thighs nearly trapped his hand between your legs as you tensed from the sensation.

“You.” The word came tumbling out of your mouth, slurring like you were drunk on his touch alone. He rewarded your vocalness by making another quick and expertly placed swipe against your clit, nearly having you mewing in response. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”

He responded by hooking his fingers underneath the band of your panties and giving them a firm tug down over your hips. They joined the mess of black fabric at your feet, and then he guided you towards the bed where you sat on the edge, resting back on your hands. His dress shirt hit the floor with lightning speed as he worked at the buttons faster than your fuzzy mind could comprehend. With his torso exposed, you couldn’t help but gape as your eyes traced over the thickness of his arms and ruggedness of his chest.

Now free from his shirt, Simon scooted closer to the edge of the bed, still on his knees, where his hands quickly dove between your legs, spreading them apart. His arms hooked underneath your knees and he pulled upwards, and you fell back on the bed with a quiet yelp in surprise. Effortlessly, he lifted your hips up off the bed, your legs having no choice but to rest on his shoulders as he pressed quick and hungry kisses up your thigh.

He continued to inch his way up your thighs where his tongue found your clit in no time and your back instinctively arched, pressing your hips further against his mouth. If there was one thing you learned about Simon, it was that he was always hungry. It wasn’t very often that he would initiate anything intimate without his mouth eventually making its way to your cunt, swiping over your needy clit like he would die without it.

Fingers lacing through his hair, you closed your eyes and reveled in the way he worked at you while his dark, grumbling pants were muffled against your heat. Shameless moans and pitchy praises left your lips as the pads of your fingers carefully pressed into his scalp all while he made the heat pool in some dark pit of your body. It burned through you, seared your insides until your blood boiled, threatening to incinerate you from the inside out.

“Simon…” was all you could whine out. The swell of your orgasm began to build in a dull but ever looming wave, and you felt your breaths come in uncontrollable and erratic bursts as your hips squirmed in his grasp.

After a few more strong, hungry licks along your clit, Simon’s mouth pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath. He moved your legs off from over his shoulders and gently lowered you onto the bed where he was fully able to take in the sight of the mess he made of you. A mixture of his spit and your arousal coated the soft flesh of your heat where it dripped down between your thighs. It was the same mixture that coated his freshly shaven skin, but he quickly wiped it off on his arm as his eyes darted back up to your face.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned as he pushed himself to his feet.

That dull drum of your orgasm, lingering but not quite toppling, made your entire body feel like it would float away from the bed. You pushed yourself back up into a sitting position and leaned forward, your hands instantly finding the belt loops of his pants.

“Come here,” you said breathlessly as you yanked him closer.

Clumsy fingers began to tug at the buckle of his belt. The tightness of his pants was a dead giveaway to his hardened length lurking underneath, and you ensured your hands accidentally brushed against him more times than what was necessary as you undid his belt and then his zipper soon after.

A heavy sigh left Simon when he was finally free from his restraints, and he tossed the pants in some corner of the room where they landed with a soft thud because of his belt. With him fully exposed in front of you, you wasted no time returning the favor he so selflessly gave to you earlier. You wrapped a hand around the tip of his cock, thick and red, enjoying the heavy weight against your palm. You gave it a few languid strokes, taking your time while you looked up at him, watching his face.

It wasn’t often Simon was very expressive, but the way he closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath was all you needed to tell that he was enjoying himself. It was also all the encouragement you needed, and you found your lips parting slightly before you leaned forward, tongue pressing against the warmth of his tip.

Simon’s cock matched him perfectly in the sense that it was just as long as he was tall and as thick as he was broad. Because of this, it was always a challenge sucking him off like that, but it was one that you refused to shy away from. You pressed your head forward, tongue gliding along the thick vein on the underside of his cock while his tip prodded against the back of your throat. A thick grunt left Simon as he brought a hand up to the back of your head, not to push you further, but to gather any loose strands of hair that should fall in your face.

Once your jaw adjusted to just how wide you had to open up, you began to bob your head up and down the length of him. Your eyes didn’t leave him for a second, despite how intense his gaze was. It burned through you like he was staring through your very soul, poking around in your mind to find your desires, finding what made you tick. Spit began to dribble down your chin as you picked up speed, but you refused to stop. You couldn’t get enough of him, of his grunts, of the saltiness of his precum, of everything he had to offer. Even with the odd breaths you had to take in order to keep inhaling air yet still taking him as deep as you could, you didn’t want to stop.

“Fucking hell,” Simon growled.

Shortly later there was a firm force on the back of your head, and Simon’s cock suddenly left your mouth empty. It was like he was pulling an animal away from food so they wouldn’t make themself sick gorging on food. You sat there on the edge of the bed, a glossy sheen of saliva wetting your chin and open lips as you panted. Simon held you by your hair, not painfully but certainly demanding as he looked down at you with heavy eyes.

He then bent forward, lips on yours in a frenzy as his tongue replaced the space in your mouth. It was a wet and sloppy kiss from the spit that already soaked your lips, but you kissed him back with that same neediness. You could taste your essence on him, that soft but lively sapor, and you felt yourself moan into him.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Simon mumbled as he pulled away. His hands gently pushed your shoulders back so that you were laying down on the bed once again, and in a swift motion he pushed you upwards so that you were closer to the center of the mattress rather than hanging off the bed. He descended on you, arms resting on either side of your head as his body hovered over yours. “Gonna be the goddamn death of me.”

The weight of his cock sat heavily on your lower stomach as he settled himself between your legs, and you felt your hips buck forward in anticipation. That orgasm you had been denied earlier made your cunt ache for him so badly it almost hurt, but you knew the wait was worth it. Cumming around his cock was certainly better than cumming around nothing.

Simon reached down and took himself in his hand as he slid from your stomach down to your entrance. You groaned as his tip pressed against your still angry and puffy clit while he teased at your entrance. Between the mess he made of you earlier, and the spit that still soaked his cock, you were plenty wet for him, and the squelching sounds only proved that further.

“Please,” you whined, your voice coming out more pitchy than you had intended it to be. “Simon, fuck, I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” he pressed, voice husky. The tip of him pressed into you ever so slightly, but with the discipline of a soldier, he refused to go any further. “Wanna hear you say it.”

You pressed your lips tightly together as your hips attempted to grind downwards onto him. But he knew your games well, and a slight smirk crossed his face as he moved himself away.

“I can’t wait anymore, please,” you begged. “Please, I need it, I need you so bad…”

His smirk only grew as he pressed himself forward again, the thick tip of his cock moving into the greedy entrance of your pussy, causing you to gasp. “Atta girl.”

There was a slight, dull burn as Simon moved deeper in you, the type of burn that took your breath away as you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the mattress. Just when you thought he was going to bottom out, he kept going, and despite the countless nights the two of you had spent together like that, it always came as a surprise. Once he did you felt so completely full, walls clenching around him, you were certain you would combust.

It only grew more intense as Simon leaned back, hands hooking underneath your knees to press them towards your chest. Your eyes shot open at the feeling, and you let out a soft whimper as your eyes found him. He pulled out slow and careful before giving a firm thrust forward, one that had you cursing under your breath. Desperate fingers found their way to his forearms, trying to grab onto anything for stability as he nearly folded you in half.

What was once a dull whine of an impending orgasm quickly became a blaring alarm as Simon’s thrusts became more steady. He had warmed you up so well on his tongue, like he always did, your body always took him in greedily by the time he finally split you open on his cock.

“Been thinking about this all night,” Simon admitted in a pant over the lewd sounds of wet skin on skin. He drew a choked moan out of you after a particularly firm thrust, and you felt his grip on your legs tighten slightly as he picked up speed. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect. Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

You bit into your lip, hardly able to get a word out. How could anyone expect you to? When a cock as thick and heavy as Simon’s was rutting into you over and over again, stealing your breath each time it hit the fragile spot deep inside of you that threatened to undo you? Everything in your body was turning into mush and you didn’t want him to stop.

“S… Si-mon,” you stuttered out, voice punctuated by every thrust into your weeping cunt. Your nails began to dig ever so slightly into the rugged skin of his forearms. “Gonna… gonna cum… fuck… please…”

Nothing changed about Simon’s pace. He knew what he was doing was just what you needed, and he wasn’t going to switch things up on you when you were so close. There wasn’t a single inch of your face that wasn’t left unexplored by his eyes. His own pants mingled with your pitchy moans as he felt your body tighten; the shaking of your legs, the tensing of your stomach, the fluttering of your pussy around him.

A few more intense thrusts later and that feeling that had grown so taut inside of you suddenly snapped. It was like drowning in the ocean, being suffocated under the unending waves only to be snatched from the water and wrapped in a lovers arms. Like dying and being brought back to life within a single instant. He marked the moment of your downfall by the way your eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy and your thighs shook against his grip. It was a terribly delicious blistering heat that consumed you whole, and Simon only egged the feeling on as he worked you through it with deliberate thrusts.

Eventually he came to a stop, yet still buried deliciously deep inside of you as the heat waned. When you finally opened your eyes again, you were met with his face, his lips slightly parted in awe as he let go of your legs, allowing them to settle by his hips instead. He collapsed forward, mouth finding the soft skin of your neck as he placed several kisses between pants.

“You’re perfect,” you sighed out as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He could only groan a short little huff as he continued placing delicate kisses on your skin. Your mind continued to spin for a few moments before you came to the realization that Simon was still agonizingly hard and pressed deep inside of you. A hand slipped down to cup one of his cheeks and gently pull him away so that you could replace the skin of your neck with your own lips.

Tender. It was the only word you could think of. Despite the fact he had fucked you so hard your brain felt like mush, he was so fucking tender. It made you yearn so much for him it nearly hurt.

Your legs tightened around his hips and you twisted to the side. Simon was plenty strong enough that he could have ignored your movements entirely, so you knew it was deliberate when he followed your lead, rolling onto his side and falling on his back. You rolled with him, lips still on his as suddenly the positions were switched. He laid under you, looking up at you as if you hung the stars. Still buried deep inside of you, you ground your hips down on him, groaning at how sensitive you were.

You took a moment to just look at him. The curve of his jaw, the thick and puffy scars that jutted out along his skin like crevices, the warmth in his eyes. He looked at you like he was bewitched, like he could die gazing upon you and die the happiest he had ever been.

It wasn’t often that you found yourself riding Simon, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. The man prioritized your pleasure over his own, leaving little time for you to give back. So taking advantage of the situation, with simple and slow movements, you lifted your hips up slightly only to rock them back down, gliding along his length. This drew another grunt out of him which only fueled something in you. This deep, primal need to take care of him. To make as much of a mess of him as he always made of you.

Even with your thighs still quaking from your climax, you began to work at him, hips rising and falling faster than your brain could comprehend. The plump flesh of your tits shook your chest and you reached up to cup them, squeezing them together with a moan.

“Fuck,” Simon groaned at the sight of you. Rough hands came up to hold your hips as you rode him, guiding you up and down while his hips bucked to meet you halfway. Even when he was supposed to be the one laying back and enjoying himself, his focus was still you; always you.

That tingly feeling of overstimulation began to shake through your legs, weakening them, but Simon’s grip on your hips kept you going. Even on top of him you were nothing but a babbling mess as your hands fell to rest against his chest just to keep yourself steady. Each sound you made slowly started to be drowned out by the quiet praises Simon muttered. You couldn’t even fully make out what he was saying over the sound of blood gushing in your ears, but you could tell he was close by how sloppy his thrusts became. They were quick and desperate, but still mind numbing all the same.

“I need it,” you suddenly blurted out. The tips of your fingers pressed into his shoulder like you were trying to grab at the very essence of him. All you could do was ramble and whine as he continued, reaching ever closer to his own high. “Need your cum. Please, please, Simon, I need it so bad, fuck…”

He didn’t last much longer after your precious begging. A few more sloppy thrusts later and he slammed your hips down on him once more, keeping you there while his cock twitched inside of you, spilling his seed deep into you with a rough grunt. A shaky breath left you at the sensation as you felt every single pulse as he emptied himself into you. Your body couldn’t handle it anymore. Completely spent, you collapsed in a heap on top of his chest, bodies still connected. His skin was slick with sweat, or maybe it was your own skin. It didn’t matter; everything that was yours was his, and his was yours.

For a while the two of you laid with one another. His heart beat heavily in his chest, reverberating and echoing throughout your own body. Both of your panting created a dull melody that echoed bluntly off of the bedroom walls, one that eventually softened as the crescendo of it died down. Once he caught his breath, Simon’s fingers tangled in the mess of your hair, holding you close as he pressed a fat kiss to the crown of your head.

“Petite mort,” you breathed out as you nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck.

“Hmm?” Simon hummed in confusion. While one hand stayed locked in your hair, his other hand slowly ran up your back in long, slow caresses. It sent a wave of shivers down your spine, instantly cooling your sweltering skin.

“You said I was going to be the death of you. Petite mort. Little death,” you explained, and then paused for a moment to sigh. “It’s… a euphemism for orgasm.”

To your surprise, Simon chuckled. Really, you hadn’t thought it was all that funny, but maybe there was some weird irony there. The man had a strange sense of humor, afterall.

“Petite mort,” he repeated, the French rolling off his tongue better than you had expected of him. “Weird goddamn saying.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Warm water enveloped your body as the sweet aroma of epsom salts clung heavily to your skin. Every hint of discomfort in your body seemed to wash away in the bath, from the ache in your feet from the heels you had worn that night, to the dull yet pleasant throbbing between your thighs. Darkness smothered the bathroom as the lights were off, leaving only the small light from the lamp in the bedroom to illuminate the room through the open door.

Heavy footsteps shook the floor as Simon entered the bathroom, temporarily darkening the area as he blocked the light source. He wore nothing but a pair of plain sweatpants, and the pale skin of his torso glowed in the darkness as he walked towards the bathtub where you laid in comfortable bliss.

“How’s my girl?” he questioned as he sat down on the floor.

“Great,” you answered with a sleepy grin.

It wasn’t until Simon had fully situated himself on the floor that you realized that he was eating. He sat with his side leaned against the tub, hissing slightly at the cold surface against his bare skin, and a plate in hand full of what looked like a frozen dinner he had probably heated up in the microwave. The scent of it mixed with the fragrant smell of the salts you soaked in was a little off putting, and you weren’t even going to start with how gross it was to eat in a bathroom, as you were certain he had eaten in worse places.

“Hungry?” you asked as he took a bite.

He took a moment to swallow his food before answering, yet he prepared his next mouthful as he spoke. “Didn’t eat dinner.”

A pang of guilt rang throughout your body at that realization. Simon hadn’t eaten at the ball, because why would he? Take his mask off around so many strangers just for some food?

“Baby,” you pouted slightly, leaning towards the side of the tub, “you should have said something when we got home. Could’ve gotten you food sooner.”

All he gave you in response was a simple shrug as he shoveled more food into his mouth. Then, after a moment of thought, he answered; “Decided to have dessert first.” That comment was enough to get your brain to short circuit. You opened your mouth to say something and nothing but a confused squeak left you. Simon continued eating like he was none the wiser.

“That was the stupidest fucking thing I think I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth,” you finally decided as you rubbed a wet hand over your face.

Simon chuckled, and things fell quiet between the two of you as he continued eating. Water splashed against the sides of the tub in gentle waves as your hand glided along the surface, scooping up bubbles just to let them slide off your skin. It was quiet. A comfortable quiet.

Simon’s eyes found you like they always did. He could find you in a crowded room. He could find you in the darkness of your shared bedroom. He could find you even if he had every sense stripped from him because it was like his soul only fell in harmony when he was with you. You were the very thing that grounded him - that tethered him - to the earth; that kept him from floating away and becoming something else. Something different. Something worse.

“If you could go anywhere in the world,” he suddenly asked, his fork scraping against the plastic plate in his hand, “where would you go?”

This question was different from anything Simon would normally ask, but it didn’t necessarily catch you off guard. Instead, you thought for a moment, racking your mind. Anywhere in the world? Well, the world was a big place! How were you supposed to pick just one?

“I don’t know,” you admitted while you adjusted your position in the tub. “I think I’d want to go somewhere warm. Somewhere that doesn’t rain so much. Honestly, I’d be pretty happy to just see anywhere that’s not London.” You paused for a second as you turned your full attention to Simon. “Where’d you want to go?”

Simon didn’t think nearly as long as you did. “Wherever you want.”

A small pout formed on your lips and you leaned your head against the side of the tub. The cool acrylic sent a shiver through your body, but you ignored it as you stared up at him. “That’s not very fun.”

He grunted as he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand. “I’ve got four weeks of paid leave that I haven’t used yet this year. Figured we could maybe plan a trip, if you’d like.”

That perked you right up. “Seriously?” you asked as you sat up in the tub. “Like, you want to go on holiday?”

Your eagerness caught Simon off guard and he lowered his plate some as he turned his full attention to you. “That’s the idea.”

Your face lit up the darkness as you grinned at him. “I’d love that. Really. We could both take time off work! Maybe two weeks? One week to spend abroad and another week to relax at home?”

“Whatever you want,” he assured you. “I’ll make it work.”

A content smile graced your lips at his words. How did you get so lucky? How did you go from sleepless nights, from broken drywall and nails to him? To Simon Riley? The man who could knock a grown man out in a single punch but refused to show any of that roughness to you? Who would run you a bath after fucking you and not leave you a crumpled mess on the mattress?

“I don’t deserve you,” you quietly admitted.

“Yeah, you deserve better.”

The words left his mouth so quickly it was like they had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for eternity, waiting to be released. He said it with such conviction that it sent a jolt of pain straight to your heart. Of course everyone always wanted to do better, to be better, yourself included, but the way he said it… it was like he was saying he wasn’t good enough to be with you.

“You are better,” you assured him. Your hand breached the water, sloshing out of the tub and dripping as you shook it out slightly before reaching over the ledge. Simon shivered slightly as the warm water smeared on his skin as your fingertips brushed along his shoulder. It was annoying, you were almost certain of it, but you couldn’t go without touching him while having a conversation like that. “The best I’ve ever had.”

Things fell quiet between the two of you after that as Simon continued eating his dinner instead of responding. Maybe he didn’t believe you. It certainly wouldn’t surprise you with how quick he was to respond in the first place. But that was alright. He didn’t have to believe you in order for it to be true. So you laid there in the tub, fingers dancing across his skin as your mind wandered, daydreaming about far away lands and time well spent with the man who became your home.

tags: @ghostlythots @archonsabyss @crowbird @beware-my-thorns @koko-1025 @nessaasstuff @escapefromrealitysm

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