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theeveninghour · 29 days

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All My Dreaming | Part 2

Summary: After accepting the mating bond, you and Azriel explore some missed opportunities. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

A/N: Thank you for the love on All My Dreaming!!! Not to be horny on main but I couldn’t stop writing for this story, here’s ~8k more words of extremely sweet and very nasty Azriel. I really wanted to write a fun scene with Mor and the gang Rita’s but couldn’t find a place for it in the first part, so y’all are getting it here. There is like, so very little plot here, I just wanted to write a few more scenes and give some additional backstory on these two because I think they’re cute. Also, I love writing little vignettes for this storyline so I might post a few more, much smaller (lol) snippets of them as an epilogue!

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

WC: 8.4k (i have no self control)

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, cunnilingus, face sitting, more love declarations, Cassian being a lil flirty in flashbacks, soft dom!Az, little hints at jealous!Az, the slightest amount of angst, talk of previous abuse (but nothing too descriptive) and slight breeding kink because Az has one (I feel this in my bones). Azriel is down astronomically bad for the reader in this one y’all. The last 2.7k is literally just porn lol

Part 1

True to his word, Azriel kept you in the meadow until dawn. The sun beginning to paint the night-sky with sepia hued pinks and oranges. You’d long since finished the wine, eaten half the bread, and most of the fruit and cheeses. He laid against the quilt, wings spread magnificently as you laid against him, thigh over his abdomen, head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing idly at the tattoo inking his chest. He hummed contentedly, and you ventured your eyes up his, finding his gaze already on you.

“Can I ask you something?” You tested the waters of this new thing; bond, love, cocoon that enveloped you. “Anything,” he smiled. “When did you know?” You asked softly. He furrowed his brow. “That I loved you?” He asked and you nodded, turning your upper half to rest your chin on the hand that had stilled against his chest. He laughed. Mother above, he laughed so warmly that it made your eyes crinkle and lips spread into a grin from the sound alone.

“You’re going to hate this,” he said as a preface, smiling, dimples appearing as he looked to you, “but it was a few weeks after you joined us, and Cassian mouthed off at you about being late to training.” You raised a brow. “You fell in love with me, while I was being…….degraded?” You asked, a little deadpan. “No,” he shook his head in correction, still chuckling. “It was what you did after.”

Cassian kept a strict training schedule. He trained in the early hours of the morning on the balcony at the House of Wind, ate breakfast, then moved to outdoor weapons and flight training off the banks of the Sidra until the early afternoon. He was strenuous and strict in his routine, as was Azriel. You’d begun training with them the week before, and if you were totally honest, you weren’t fully comfortable with the two brothers yet. Cassian was rough around the edges, brutish, with a mouth that often got him into trouble. Azriel was quiet, observant in a way that unnerved you. You’d caught his eyes following you often and you hated the warmth that pressed into your cheeks when he did.

Rhysand had warned them to give you time to adjust. You’d been brutally attacked by Beron’s dogs only a few months ago and forced to live in the wilds for nearly six weeks, eating foraged fauna and what game you could kill with a makeshift spear you’d carved using sharpened obsidian and a walnut branch. Your body grew weary in those weeks; endless fear, starvation, and sleepless would do that. You were still a jittery little thing, like a wild animal, jumpy when Amren or Mor managed to sneak up on you by accident.

Azriel recognized these symptoms and allowed you a leniency he didn’t normally offer his trainees, but trauma, physical and mental, took a toll on the body as he well knew. He’d gifted you a golden hilted dagger on your second week with them and asked if you knew how to use it. You held it in your palm, noting the blue stone that sat in the bolster and double edged blade that you could see your reflection in. You looked a little gaunt, but your cheeks held color again, your lips were fuller, no longer dry and chapped from mountain winds and cold nights.

“I know how to use a blade Shadowsinger,” you said in an even tone. You didn’t call him by his name then. You also called Cassian ‘General’ to his face, and ‘asshole’ behind his back. “Most females learn to use them,” you followed up, “out of necessity.” Azriel hated to dwell on those words, hated to think about what you’d gone through before Beron, what your father had done. He nodded once, and placed a sheath and belt down on the table next to you before taking his leave.

You’d awoken late for training that day, the sun had rose to a bright position in the mid-morning sky and you knew you’d never hear the end of it from Cassian. You dressed slowly into your training leathers, belting your dagger around your hips and took a deep breath. You walked to the balcony, noticing the males absence and winnowed to the training grounds at the Sidra. Cassian’s eyes found yours immediately and he sheathed his broadsword, turning to look at you. Azriel was perched on a fallen tree stump nearby, and his eyes traced your face, noting the darkened circles there. He’d heard you screaming in your sleep last night and his heart ached at the sound, his shadows slinking off to find you.

“So you didn’t forget,” Cassian said, muscular arms crossing over his chest. “Tell me something, little girl, do you even want to be here?” He stressed the word want in his sentence in a way that had both you and Azriel narrowing your eyes. “This is the third day this week that you’ve been late to training, and the second that you’ve missed morning warm ups altogether.” He huffed a disbelieving laugh, “I’m beginning to think Rhys was wrong about you.” Azriel went still and he felt a bit of rage creep up his spine at his brother’s harshness.

In the blink of an eye, you’d unsheathed your dagger and thrown it at the Illyrian general. It whizzed past his head, nicking his cheek, and landed in the training dummy behind him. “Fuck you,” you’d growled teeth bared, as you shifted a stance that begged for a fight. Cassian turned and pulled the knife from the dummy’s eye socket, before throwing in the dirt at your feet. “A little to the left next time you try to kill me,” he smirked. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have missed, asshole,” you said as you fixed him with a glare and your jaw ticked in anger. Cassian’s face broke into a shit eating grin and he laughed, which made you sneer with frustration.

“Good to see you’re still alive in there,” he said smiling, “I was hoping we’d see that spark.” Your anger dissolved as fast as it built up. You reached down to pick your dagger from the dirt and sheathed it at your waist. “Seriously, Cassian, fuck you,” you said and grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows before stalking off to train alone. Cassian sighed and went to follow you but Azriel rose to feet to stop him, stepping into his path. “Let her calm down,” he suggested, placing a hand to his brother’s arm. Cassian sighed. He knew he was being rough with you, but it the only thing left he could think to do. “We’ve tried nice, brother. Tough love worked on Amren, maybe it’ll work on her too,” Cassian spoke softly before trotting after you.

A few paces off you’d begun firing arrows into a target carved in the bark of an elm tree, teeth grinding. Cassian was right in his intent though, you had to get out of your own head if you were to move forward. You pulled an arrow from the quiver and nocking it on the bowstring and pulling it back until the bow met the pile at the tip. You heard him coming before you saw him.

“Listen, I’m just—” you heard Cassian’s voice and turned then, aiming and firing in his direction. The arrow flew through the air towards the General. The feathered fletching caught the bun at the top of his head, pulling hairs loose, before the tip burrowed into the tree behind him with an echoing noise.

“Mother above, you could’ve killed me!” The General shouted, face blanched. Azriel’s lip quirked up and he looked to you again, you were smiling, closed mouth but smiling, and he felt his heart grow warm at the sight. “I told you, asshole, I don’t fucking miss when I’m aiming to kill.”

You laughed aloud, cheeks warm as you buried your face in Azriel’s chest. “I’ll go around threatening Cassian more often if it gets me a mate in the end.” The male at your side chuckled warmly and his hand found yours on his sternum. “He still talks about it, you know?” He offered with a shake of his head. “It was precisely the kind of thing Nesta would’ve done too.”

You smiled back. “Good to know you Illyrians have a type.” He looked to you then and he smiled, eyes tracing your lips, nose, lashes, and the Winter white hair haloing your face. “Not a type, just blessings from the Mother,” he murmured softly. His hand trailed up your arm and pushing your hair off your shoulder and down your back. You blushed, warmth blooming on your chest and running up your neck to your face, painting your skin pink.

“Gods, who knew you had such a silver tongue,” you said chastising, looking to where his fingers played with yours as they rested on his chest. “You used to be so quiet,” you added, letting a small laugh escape you. Azriel shrugged and pushed up on an elbow as his hand left yours to run up your arm and cup your cheek. “Good to know you’re still thinking about my tongue,” he whispered before kissing you for the millionth time that night.

It was mid-morning when Azriel ported you both to the River House. It was surprisingly empty, and you made your way to the kitchen to seek out food, still in the dress from the night before, though it was now wrinkled on your body. Rhysand had stocked the kitchen it would seem, as you found an array of fruits, vegetables, and meats in the cold storage there.

“I guess Rhys was serious about quarantining us here,” you laughed before looking over your shoulder to find your mate, leaned against the counter, watching you with warmth. “If I cook for you again, are you going to ravish me?” You asked jokingly, pulling a knife from the block to begin prepping carrots for a quick stew.

He pressed forward then, coming behind you to push you into the marble, bringing his lips your shoulder and his hands to your belly. “I plan on ravishing you either way,” he said, lips tracing to the hollow below your ear, a spot that made you whimper as he’d found out the night before and catalogued in his head. You pressed your hips back against his, loving the feel of his body against your own.

“Very interested in that, though I think it’ll be easier on a full stomach, so maybe go bathe while I cook,” you said, turning your head and nudging your nose into his own. He laughed again and the noise set your heart to skittering. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to having him like this, so free and warm.

You’d seen Azriel in every form. The warrior that fought with skilled precision, teeth bared as he cut down his adversaries; the Spymaster that tortured, maimed, and killed Night Court threats; the brother that took his friend’s teasing in stride, lips quirking silently as he shook his head. You’d never had him like this though, laughing and full of affection, touching and grasping so freely.

His hand found your chin and you knew he’d heard your thoughts again from the look in his eyes. His fingers stroked up your jawline, fingers pushing hair behind your ear. “There is no one in this realm, on this continent, male or female, that has as much of me as you do on any given day,” he whispered before he pushed away to stroll out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You let a shaky breath go from your chest. He was trouble.

Later, after you’d both bathed and eaten until your bellies were full, you sat at the dining room table, sipping a glass of wine. “You asked me this morning when I knew,” he started, setting down his wine glass as his index finger began tracing circles into red table cloth next to it. “When did you know?” You laughed and took another sip of wine, you’d need it to keep up with him. “Mine’s not as violent,” you fixed him with a pointed look and he smirked.

You took a deep breath, “it was several months later, at Rita’s.” He laughed warmly in disbelief. “What?” Surely you weren’t serious? “What in the Cauldron could’ve happened at Rita’s to make you fall in love with me?” His eyes were twinkling under the fae lights.

Mor had begged you to go and you’d told her no at least thirteen times. You’d grown fond of the blonde as had she with you. She’d helped you immensely in your first months with the Night Court. She knew what it was to be hollowed out by trauma, particularly trauma that extended from those in the Autumn Court. She also knew bad fathers. You were grateful to her and you’d opened to her in a way you’d hadn’t yet with anyone else in Rhys’ Inner Circle.

“Please?” She tried again, “We can go into the city and get you a dress, I’ll even pay for it!” You rolled your eyes, “You won’t give up until I agree, huh?” She’d laughed then. Her laugh was the kind of full bodied female laugh you hoped you’d get back some day. “You already know me so well, Little One.” She nudged your shoulder, before patting your cheek and leaving you alone to dress for the day ahead.

Little One had started a few months prior when you poked fun at Cassian during a dinner. You’d been ready to maul the General in your first weeks, but you’d settled into a peaceful truce. He’d been talking loudly about the female he’d been with the night prior, all bravado and innuendo. “Amazing you were able to land her at all with that ego,” you’d muttered taking a sip of your wine. Amren sat across from you and her lips quirked as she looked your way in silent agreement. She and Cassian were also at odds often. Cassian slid his eyes to you and they narrowed as you feigned innocence, setting your glass down and looking to your nails. “Did you just mock me, Little One?” He asked, head tilting as he watched you pick at a cuticle.

You met his eyes and raised a brow. “Tell me Cassian, is what they say about Illyrian wingspans true?” You said, eyes glancing to Rhysand and Azriel, both looking thrilled at this development. “Cause as I see it, you look to be outmatched.” The room went quiet before Cassian bellowed a loud laugh, bringing a hand to his chest. “Cauldron save us, she’s got jokes,” he snickered and your lips curved into a smile. He turned to you then, lips smirking. “For the record, it’s not the wingspan that matters, it’s how you use it.” His rebuttal caused you to let out a breathless laugh as you picked up your wine and rolled your eyes.

Mor had dragged you into the shopping district of Velaris to find an appropriate dress. The first store was a bust, and the second was looking to be the same. “Come on, Little One, there has to be one you’re interested in!” She’d said, voice going a little whiny on the tail end of the sentence. You’d scanned the boutique again, and noticed a dress hanging in the far back corner that was looked like threaded starlight. “That one,” you pointed and her eyes slid to it before her lips broke into a knowing grin. “You go to the dressing room and I’ll grab it,” she offered and you’d nodded, wanting this to be over as soon as possible.

She’d brought you the dress and you shut the curtain in her face as she laughed. You’d undressed slowly, eyes scanning skin as it appeared. Your eyes zoomed in on the heavy scarring at your legs, Gods you hated those markings. Once the dress slid on, you pulled up the zipper at the side and adjusted the bust line.

You loosed a loud breath, it was…. generous in the amount of skin it showed and the style screamed Night Court. You turned and realized the back went down to your bottom, showcasing the two dimples at the small of your back. The slit at the side came all the way to your hip. ‘Cauldron, this isn’t a dress, this is a scrap of fabric,’ you’d thought.

You turned and opened the curtain stepping out to find Mor looking at you with an open mouth. “Are you sure you aren’t into females?” She’d asked. “Because I’d love to keep you to myself tonight.” You’d blushed and laughed heartily. “Is it good?” You asked cautiously, turning in a circle. “Good? Little One, the males will be on their knees,” she said eyes twinkling with mischief.

You’d bought the dress despite the insecurities and gone home the House of Wind to get dressed. Mor had sent Nuala and Cerridwen to you to help with your hair and make up and you’d thanked them profusely.

As the moon rose for the night, you stood in your quarters staring at the mirror on the wall opposite your bed. You had looked lively again, your cheeks were fuller and the hollows under your eyes were less bruised than they had been months prior. You sat on a bench at the foot of your bed and started to pull on your heels, a leg shining through the slit of the dress.

Once you’d buckled the strap your shoes, you stood, a little wobbly. It’d nearly a year since you’d worn heels and the last time you had, you were set to be engaged to the Autumn Court princeling. You refused to dwell on that and moved toward the door, opening it and stepping into the hall.

Cassian was exiting of his room as you were shutting your door and your eyes met down the corridor. He let out a wolf whistle and began walking your way. “Well, well, well,” he started and you braced for his comment, “don’t you look pretty enough to eat.” You grimaced and looked at him before scoffing, “pig.” His laughter made your lips curve into a smile.

You strolled down the steps to find Rhysand and Azriel waiting there. Rhysand looked to you and smiled warmly, “You clean up nice, Little One.” Azriel’s eyes found yours next and his jaw dropped, then shut quickly, muscle ticking. A gloved hand at his side set into a fist and he could hear the knuckles crack. “I think she’ll be fighting the males off tonight,” Mor piped, appearing next to you, “wouldn’t you lot agree?”

Rhysand and Cassian hummed their agreements but Azriel’s eyes couldn’t look away from your form. The dress draped your body like liquid starlight, the slit at your hip had his fists clenching at the desire to touch. Mor walked you past the males and he caught glimpse of your exposed back and something primal reared its head shouting at him to grasp, lick, bite until you were covered in his marks. Cassian flanked the Shadowsinger and whistled low, eyes following you. “I’ll have to find her on the dance floor tonight,” he said, eyes gleaming as they traced your retreating form. Azriel, though he loved his brother dearly, wanted to rip his throat out for even glancing at you.

Rita’s was littered with intoxicated fae. Mor grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bar, while Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel made their way to the section explicitly reserved for their use. As you stood at the bar with Mor, a male came up to you, leaning into your space and asking your name.

The male ventured a touch to your arm and you leaned away, disliking the overt physical attention. As he spoke, a gloved hand appeared between you and Azriel pushed his way into the space without apology or acknowledgement. “Hey, I was talking to her!” The male tried to protest loudly before Azriel turned and fixed him with a devastating look, causing the male to wilt before putting his hands up in surrender and walking away.

You stumbled out a laugh as he turned back to you. “I think you may have hurt his feelings,” you said smiling, looking to the Shadowsinger. He eyes were already on you again, tracing your face, and hair, the long line of your neck. “That’s much too bad,” he said, signaling the bartender over and you both ordered a round of drinks.

“You look beautiful tonight,” the words came out of Azriel in a rushed whispered, as if he’d forced them out against his will. You turned to meet his eyes and your face warmed at the look there. “I was so nervous to wear this,” you breathed, “the last time I was in a dress and heels like these, I was engaged to marry a Vanserra.” You let out a small, cynical laugh. “Gods, I’m so glad I left.”

Azriel softened then. “He didn’t deserve you, Autumn didn’t deserve you, I hope you know that,” he’d said, gloved hands laying flat on the bar top, the length of his middle finger grazing your own. You wanted to reach out to them, to ask why he wore the gloves around you, but you resisted.

“For what it’s worth,” he continued, “I’m also glad you left, I’m glad you’re here most of all.” You met his hazel eyes again and traced his face. He was likely one of the most beautiful males you’d ever seen and he was being awfully sweet with you. He looked to Rhys then, the High Lord likely speaking into his mind. He smiled turning back to you, “Rhysand says he’s also glad you’re here,” he said mockingly and rolled his eyes. You laughed, a small tinkering thing, that made Azriel’s heart beat quicken. “Thanks, Az,” you smiled broadly at him and he knew for sure and certain you would ruin him.

You turned to your drink then as the bartender sat it down in front of you. You picked it up and took a long sip. If Azriel kept looking at you like that and speaking to you in hushed tones that made your heart race, you’d need about five more of these.

You heard him take a deep, steadying breath at your side, turned to look at him, brow furrowing slightly. You were ready to ask if he was alright when he finally spoke. “Cassian said he was going to ask you to dance tonight,” he ventured and you snorted. ‘Of course he did,’ you thought with a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head. “Would you allow me to be your first?” He asked, holding out a gloved hand.

You looked to his hand then back to his hopeful hazel eyes, and you blinked a little slowly, a little disbelievingly. Just when you thought you figured him out, he threw you for a loop. You took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. As your body moved with his, you couldn’t help but wish for forever in this moment, forever in his hands, and his eyes. Mother above, you were in trouble.

“That dress was pure sin, Little One,” Azriel smirked. “And I told you, I am quite fond of dancing.” You huffed a laugh and looked to him, a little bashful. Azriel laughed softly again. “Cassian pouted for days after that night,” he spoke, “he was mad I stole you away.” You wondered if Cassian could tell how utterly smitten you were after that night. “I think he was a little infatuated with you in those early days too.”

You grimaced. “That’s much too bad,” you said, echoing his words from centuries prior. You stood then and stepped towards him to halt at his side, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair. “I always had eyes for you, baby.”

You trailed a hand up his arm to his shoulder, then back to the shoulder joint of his wing, tracing the bone up to the clawed crest. His breath guttered out of him as he closed his eyes, brows furrowing at the sensation that zipped down his spine and settled in his lower abdomen.

“One more question for you,” you said softly. “No,” he growled out, “I’ve had enough questions, I want to have you again.” His eyes opened and looked to you, scarred hands grasping your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there. “One more and I’ll give you whatever you want,” you offered. He raised a brow. “Whatever I want?” He questioned and you nodded. “Even if I want to bend you over this table and take you from behind until you come all over my cock?”

Your eyes watched his predatory gaze and a feline grin appeared on your face. You laughed again, “considering that’s a win-win, I’ll gladly trade for that.” He laughed too and rolled his eyes in fondness. “Fine,” he conceded, “one more question, mate.” His hand traced back, grasping the flesh of your ass through your thin silk housedress and you gasped, “then I get to have you in every way I want.”

You had to shake the lust from your thoughts, focusing on the question that had been circling your mind since your return to River House. “Why didn’t you to tell me of the bond?” You asked softly, hand resting on the arm that held you. He took a deep breath, he should’ve expected this eventually, but in all honesty, he’d hoped to put it off as long as possible.

“I just mean,” you took a shaky breath, growing a little nervous. “It snapped so early for you, and I—” you swallowed, “I wouldn’t have turned you away, surely you must know that?” Your eyes found his and he saw the imploring look there, brows slanting as your eyes swam with emotions. He took a grounding breath and his hand traced up your hip to your back as he pulled you in to bury his face in the soft of your stomach.

“I was scared,” he said, though it came out muffled. You combed fingers through his hair soothingly and he tilted his head up to face you. “You were—” he stopped himself, “you are the single most magical thing in this realm.” He spoke softly, as if he was scared he’d burst the bubble of newfound love that had surrounded the two of you in the last few weeks.

“When I was a child, my half brothers tortured me,” he started, eyes wincing. “They did this, you know,” he held up a scarred hand. You nodded, Rhysand told you of Azriel’s brothers and father years ago when the subject of Windhaven came up and how you would likely not be sent on any missions there. “For my gift with shadows, they’d called me every name under the sun, insisted I was a bastard child, beat me, shunned me, cast me out. I was alone until Rhys and his mother took me in.” Your eyes teared up when you thought of how isolated he must’ve felt, how damaged. You knew feeling well.

“When I knew I loved you, I resolved myself as unworthy of your gaze, your touch, anything,” he sighed and his hands pulled from you to fall in his lap. “I figured I’d been alone for centuries up until that point, and it was likely I’d be alone forever.” You pulled one of his hands into your own and brought the knuckles to your lips. “I love you,” you said softly, lips resting against the marred skin there, “I hope you know that.”

He looked to you and he smiled, a small watery smile as his eyes closed and he nodded his head. There was that gift again. “You know,” he said, “more than your beauty, or strength, I admire your courage and vulnerability. I think that’s what scared me the most.” He spoke softly again, wanting to preserve the shroud of gentle love that surrounded the two of you.

“I saw how you were with Mor and Amren. How you cared for Cass, despite his explosive anger when Rhys went Under the Mountain for fifty years. How you attended Rhys when he returned in shambles, traumatized and broken.” He looked to you, eyes shining. “You took it all in stride with such….. care and endless love and I—” he paused, bottom lip trembling. “I didn’t think I’d ever be worthy of your heart, of your attention, so I took what I could get. Your glances, your smiles, the teasing at dinners. I took it all and I made myself content with it,” he shuttered out a fragile, broken breath, eyes falling to the shadows that gathered at his feet attempting to console their master.

“I’ve loved you in secret for two centuries, Little One, I’ve loved you so much my chest ached and I thought I would die from the unsung bond that resided there. My soul would know yours in any life. At the ends of the earth in total darkness, it would still find you.” He let out a shuddering breath, “you’re the other half of me.” His eyes found yours then and the look there made you feel overwrought with emotion.

You and Azriel had been friends for two centuries. You laughed and cried together. You’d shared meals and secrets, dances and fleeting glances, little chaste touches. You’d told him of your father, of Beron, showed him your scars. You’d pined for him for just as long and to know he’d silently yearned for you in return, your heart felt like it might break apart.

“The bond snapped for me during the war,” you offered him a small secret of your own and his eyes found yours, going wide at the revelation.

The second war with Hybern had been a brutal thing. Feyre and Cassian had taken to recruiting help out of the Ancient Prison on the northern shore of the Night Court due to Prythian’s limited numbers. You’d known it was a suicide mission going in and you’d nearly been right. You’d fought alongside death gods and monsters alike in a battle that would be legend for ages to come.

“I wrote you a letter before we left for battle,” another secret, but for him, you’d bare your soul. “I was going to tell you then,” you continued, “I’d been in love with you for 189 years at that point. I was so far gone for you but I’d assumed, that if you wanted me, I would’ve known. You would’ve said something, anything. So I put it all in a letter, worried I wouldn’t return alive.” His breath hitched, remembering the sight of you impaled on a sword, bleeding out in his arms. He’d taken the soldier’s head off their body as penance and it still didn’t feel like enough. You let out a small gurgling laugh, throat tight, eyes wet with tears. “Sometimes I can’t believe I did.”

You took a steadying breath and leaned to kiss his forehead, his eyes closing from the contact, mouth humming. You leaned your cheek on the crown of his head, your thumb rubbing soothing circles in the space behind his ear. His hands went around to your back, nose and cheek resting against the cradle of your chest as he listened to your heart, still beating strong beneath. The two of you were the sort of image that artists carved into marble, the picture of lovers so inseparably bound that they were one eternally, in every life.

“In that letter I apologized for not telling you sooner, said I didn’t need the Cauldron to know it was you my soul sang for. That you were the one the stars had fated me to meet.” He clenched his eyes shut from where his head rested on your rib cage. Every word you uttered was like a poultice to his damaged soul, filling the cracks that had been there since his adolescence.

He was wrong when he’d thought you’d ruin him. No, you’d save him, from the darkness that encroached his mind, the insecurities that lingered there. You were a flower blooming against all odds in the shadows, and he’d do anything for you. All his wasted centuries of dreaming had been given a name and form in you.

“I’m glad I ran from Autumn that day, glad it was Rhys that found me in the wilds, glad it was the Night Court that saved me, but more than anything, I am glad that every step I’ve taken in this life has led me straight to you.” Your hand dragged forward, over his cheek, to gently tip his chin up to face your gaze. “May you never doubt the depths of my love for you.” You kissed his forehead then before moving your lips to the space between his brows, the tip of his nose. His eyes fell shut and his hands came to hold on tightly to your wrists for fear he’d float away. You kissed his cheek, and eyelids, before making your way to his mouth.

This kiss was just as electrifying as the first and he pressed his insistent mouth to yours desperately. He pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth and took your gasp as the opportunity to slip his tongue against your own. He could kiss you for a millennia and he would not get enough. He wanted all that you had to give and everything after that too. Nothing, not even flying, could compare to how his heart sped when you kissed him like this. He poured centuries of yearning into it.

He pulled off of your mouth and kissed the corner of your lips before leaning back to gaze into your eyes. “I’ll need to tell Rhysand not to expect us back for a few months,” he said, hand coming up to brush a stray hair behind the shell of your ear. Your brain, still two paces behind from that kiss, registered what he was saying and you let out a breathless laugh. “Months? Thought the frenzy was a few weeks?” You replied, still smiling, tears drying and he shrugged, fingertips tracing the skin at your collarbone. “I’ve got two centuries of love to make up for,” he stated softly before smiling in a feral, cunning way, “and I plan on taking my time.”

Azriel ported you to the bedroom and you’d laughed, “I can walk you know.” He smiled, leaning down, kissing your cheek. “Save your energy, Little One.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you to stand between his legs. He allowed himself to look at you, unhurried, a little predatory. You did the same, eyes passing over tanned skin and freckles, tattoos and scars as your gaze made it’s way down to his hips, where you notice his length pressing tightly against the front of his pants. Your eyes trace back up to his, cheeks a little pink, only to find him smirking.

“Are you ever going to be sated?” You laughed. You pulled the hem of your dress up to lean over him and settle a knee next to his hip as you crawled into his lap. He hummed, pulling your hips to his own. He traced his nose along the skin of your throat, inhaling your scent, committing to memory as he nosed the silk strap of your housedress, pushing it down your shoulder and pressing his mouth to the skin there. “For you? Never.” His tongue laved at the length of your throat, as he made his way up before bringing his mouth to yours.

This kiss was slower than the one you’d shared in the dining room. Tongues entwining, teeth biting. He dove deeper, sucking against your tongue before licking along the bow of your upper lip. He rocked his hips up to meet your own, his cock sliding against your slit in a way that had you gasping. His hand pushed your gown up over your hips to your waist and his gaze fixated on the center of your hips, you’d forgone underwear after your bath. “No panties?” He breathed into your mouth. “Maybe I should’ve taken you on the dining room table after all.”

You laughed, rutting your hips against his own, loving the sound that rumbled in his chest. You pulled the little silk dress up and over your head, baring yourself entirely to his gaze. “There will time for that,” you said, voice laced with promise, “but I’d like for you to take me in a bed, properly.” He gave a little laugh then, bringing his face to your own, teasing at your mouth again. “Under the stars wasn’t romantic enough?” His hands found your hips and fingertips pressed into the flesh there. You were sure you’d be bruised all over come tomorrow.

He leaned back pulling your hips up his abdomen. “C’mere,” he commanded, jerking his head in instruction as he laid flat upon the bed, wings spreading in full. He looked like a god this way, but the way he looked at you, muscles rippling as he tensed, jaw ticking, hair debauched, love bites down the tanned column of his throat from your mouth, eyes heavy lidded with lust; if he was a god then certainly you were his goddess. He growled then the noise escaping him unbidden as he hauled you higher to his chest, your hand shooting out to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“You are a goddess and I am but a hopeless disciple,” his voice had pitched deep with want, desire alight in his eyes and you thought you might never tire of seeing him this hungry for you. His fingers dug into your thighs and he hooked your knees to pull you higher. “Let me worship you until I find absolution.” He pulled you to his chin, teeth nipping at the flesh of your inner thighs. His found your eyes again and he nodded to you. “You’re going to sit on my face, sweet one, and I am going to feast on you like the goddess you are.”

Your breath left you in a shuttering broken gasp, and you leaned up, shuffling the last few inches. His arms wrapped around your legs, caging you to his face as hands came around to open your cunt to his view. He let out a primal noise that had the air leaving your lungs in pant and your hands grasped the headboard in some pitiful attempt at grounding yourself. He nosed your clit before pulling you down on his mouth, suckling at you like a man starved.

His tongue pressed flat against your clit and you thought you might break apart. You were sensitive from the night before and you had to actively try not to rock down against his face. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled you forward, hands grasping your hips and rutting you against his hot mouth. You couldn’t help the shuddering moan that left your throat and he hummed along with you, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine.

He circled his tongue in a pattern, quick flicks then slow drags of friction that had pleasure zipping through you until your thighs were twitching, nails digging into the wood of the headboard, hips rocking on his mouth. He nosed at your clit as his tongue slipped down to circle your opening, collecting the wetness that gathered there, groaning at your taste. His lips returned to your clit and he sucked it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, speeding the flicking of his tongue until your hands were shaking and your moans keened to a higher octave.

“Azriel,” you gasped, a trembling hand found his hair, nails scratching. “Az — fucking Gods.” You looked down to him between your thighs and he watched you, the definition of sin. His cheeks had grown pink, brows furrowed, hazel eyes gone molten as he nuzzled his face into you. He unhanded your thigh to slide back to your ass, fingernails digging into the ample flesh there before he released it and his open palm came into fierce contact with the cheek. You jolted at the impact and the sound that left you was the highest, most trembling whine he’d heard come out of you. He catalogued it in his mind for later.

His hand soothed the skin at your behind before smacking the skin again, the contact rippling across the flesh like a tiny earthquake. Your hips tilted against his chin faster, more desperate and your moans grew closer together, a little more frantic as you felt yourself approaching your peak. His tongue circled you again before he sucked the button into his mouth and began a steady, insistent pattern.

You could feel the pleasure focusing, your lower belly tightening. “Az— I swear I’m—” you gasped and your head fell back, exposing your chest and neck to his greedy view. “I’m going to come, baby,” you whined deep, hips canting in tight circles, desperate for release. He hummed an affirmation and his hands grasped your hips to guide your through it. Your release hit and the moan that left you was shattering.

You leaned back, hands finding purchase on his chest, as he pressed kisses to your thighs. “Gods,” you gasped, falling to his side as you moved off of him and pressed a hand to your chest, catching your breath. “Fuck me,” your eyes shut for a moment and you felt his lips pressing tender kisses to your eyelids. He kissed to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, before whispering devastation there. “I told you my love, I want to take you apart slow.”

His lips came to your chest, pressing a kiss to the jugular notch at the base of your throat between the clavicles. “There is no war,” kiss, “no mission,” another kiss, moving south to the globe of your breast, “no threat this time.” He breathed into your sternum, tongue tracing the skin of your cleavage.

You were right that Azriel was mouthy. Mother above, now that the gates had opened, he was bent on taking everything from you and you would let him. You would let him shatter you to pieces, trusting he’d put you back together again.

“You’re wearing too much,” you complained, fingers pulling at the waist of his trousers, which seemed to have grown impossibly tight around his hardness. Your hand pushed under the band and fingers grasped him firmly, his gasp escaping directly into the skin over your heart. He rutted into your hand, mouth coming up to your own as he kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue.

You pulled back from the kiss and fixed him with an imploring look. “Can I put my mouth on you now?” You asked softly, batting your eyelashes a bit, just shy of begging. He felt desire rip through him, his cock giving a jerk. A growl released from his throat. “As much as I want you on your knees for me,” he breathed deeper. “As much as I want to fuck this pretty little mouth,” his thumb tugged at your bottom lip and you leaned forward to pull it between your lips, tonguing the scarred skin there as you sucked.

His eyes fixated on the action, pupils blown wide. He pulled his thumb from your mouth and spread his hand to grasp your neck at the height of your throat, “I thought our bargain was every way that I wanted you?” He watched your eyes flutter as he squeezed from the sides, your breath hitching, cunt growing wetter. He could smell your arousal and the feral need of the newly minted bond had him feeling utterly primal. “And right now, I want you on your hands and knees, begging as I take you from behind.” His voice had pitched deep, and you thought you might never recover from this.

His hand traced down to your wrist, pulling it from his cock and then he patted your ass. “Be a good girl for me.” Your breath came out shaky and you nodded, scrambling to turn around and bend down to present yourself for him. A pleased hum settled in his chest as he stood to slip off his trousers before kneeling behind you. He ran his eyes up the expanse of your back, the scars that now resided there. He’d kill anyone who threatened you again, he’d take hands from their bodies if they touched you.

He watched your shoulders roll as you adjusted your weight, and he was reminded of every backless gown you’d worn in the last two centuries. How he had never allowed himself to touch you in the way he wanted.

He ran a scarred hand up the center of your back, leaning forward and grasping your neck from behind, bringing you up and into the long line of his front. His nose trailed your shoulder and his lips found the spot below your ear again. His teeth came in contact with the flesh there, biting then pressing his tongue into the skin to soothe the sting. The little whimper you let out made him smile, he loved you like this. His other hand reached down to guide his cock to your core, hips dragging the length through to slick there. His brain catalogued each sound that you made, he was mapping you out slowly, learning your body and memorizing all.

The hand holding your neck released its grip, and he pushed you back forward, your hands trembled as they came to hold your weight.

Before leaving you, his fingers gathered your hair and he wrapped the length of it around his hand once before fisting and pulling, causing a low moan to escape you. “Hold on, little mate.” His voice ground out and he guided himself into your warm cunt, pulling back once, then twice to work you open until he sheathed himself fully.

His hips were flush against the flesh of your ass as he ground in and your breath began to come in pants. You were so in over your head and you loved it. He laughed, ‘I heard that, my love,’ he spoke into your mind. ‘Let me know if you want to stop.’ You nearly laughed aloud. ‘As if,’ you repeated your words from the night before.

His hand tugged at your hair in response as he pulled out to the tip and slammed back in, hard and deep. Your back arched and your arms threatened collapsed. He began a slow and steady pace, rutting to the hilt and pulling out before slamming back home, skin slapping against skin. You could hear the loud suck of your cunt on every pull, the noise itself was desperately erotic, and Azriel fucking loved it. He wanted you like this like always. He wanted to stay in the warmth of your cunt for the rest of his days. He picked up his pace and groaned when he felt you clench around him as a wanton moan escaped you.

His hand released your hair and he leaned over your form, kissing your shoulders, holding you tightly as he pushed back to the hilt and ground in, small cants of his hips causing your breath to tremble.

“Azriel, baby, you’re gonna ruin me,” you spoke quietly, head falling forward. He laughed darkly, biting at the skin at the top of your spine. His hand grasped the front of your throat and brought you back up into him, mouthing at your shoulder. “Tell me you’re mine,” he ground out, hips pushing faster. His other hand found its way to your front, tracing down your soft stomach to rub slow circles at your clit. “Tell me you’re mine and let me fuck you into oblivion.”

You groaned feeling your orgasm crawling up your spine, cunt tensing. “I’ve been yours for two centuries,” you gasped out, breathless, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. He growled out something primal, but you continued, delirious with pleasure as his fingers and cock broke you apart. “I’ll give you anything.” His fingers tightened at your neck and he slammed to the hilt, grinding in.

“Anything?” He questioned, voice shaky with need. “Would you let me take you apart? Would you let me ruin your sweet cunt daily? Would you let me fuck a baby into you?” Your mind blanked and your voice pitched into a deep moan, a base desire possessing you. “Yes,” you nodded, breathless. “All of it,” you gasped, “anything for you, mate.” His eyes pinched shut, a low whine escaped somewhere from the pits of him. Mother above. His fingers squeezed your neck and he picked up the pace, fucking you faster. You shook with each impact of his hips, your breath leaving you in small whines.

The scarred tips of his fingers worked your clit faster. “You’ll give me anything?” He questioned again, breathless, pace faltering as his own release tightened at the base of spine. “Come for me, my love, come with me.” Your breath caught at your throat as your cunt tightened impossibly around him and he groaned deep. You called his name as your climax hit and he keened a low whine, hips grinding into you, his seed painting your walls.

He released your throat and gave a shaky laugh as he grasped your chin to find your mouth. The kiss was utterly depraved and your walls fluttered again, making him groan into your mouth. You pulled back and your eyes found his over your shoulder. “A baby, huh?” You spoke, voice a little wobbly. He wanted to shrink under the weight of your gaze, the question there. “Not yet,” he spoke softly, “but if you do decide to gift me with a child, I’ll be the luckiest male alive.” You smiled and kissed him, softer this time, heart singing at the promise there.

He pulled out of you and let you collapse against the bed, rolling over to rest at your back. His eyes found your cunt and he watched with rapt obsession as his release leaked from you. You traced his gaze and a laugh escaped you. “Come here, my love,” you spoke softly, opening your arms. “I want to get some rest before you go feral again.”

He smiled, laughing lightly before crawling up the bed to where you awaited him. He settled into your embrace, head resting on your chest while his restless fingers began idly tracing the skin of your arm. Your fingers set to combing through the strands of his hair and his eyes closed, pleased with gentle intimacy of the action. “I love you,” he spoke softly, exhaustion beginning to creep in on him. You smiled, fingers trailing to his back, caressing the skin at the base of his wing. “As I love you,” you whispered, “more than anything.” He hummed and nuzzled to the skin of your chest as darkness overtook him.

#azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #i love this bat boy sm #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #Azriel smut #bat boys x reader #bat boys #azriel acosf #azriel acomaf #This is utter filth guys #These two really went at it for like 24 hours straight

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routeless-writer · 7 months

Note

Adored your lilia smut

can I request body worship and breeding link with lilia??

ANON YOU ARE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE RN. Thank you hun! I’m so glad you and so many people liked it, I honestly didn’t expect it to blow up like it did! Happy to write for my favorite old man.

MC pronouns: GN/NB (no pronouns used, implied they/them)

CW: NSFW, breeding kink/breeding talk, pregnancy talk, excessive praise/body worship, Lilia being a brat dom, Lilia also being filthy, mod mezzo ALSO being filthy, oral sex mentions (reader receiving), marking, blood/biting/vampirism mention (it’s Lilia, so), light light LIGHT possessiveness, the slightest degradation (I use slut like once), i say he’s a tits man and then clarify that the tits are gender neutral and just mean your chest.

Listening to: Casket – Ren Zotto

Now Lilia is a dom that’s heavy on praise

He will absolutely degrade you if you ask for it, but his favorite thing is watching you squirm from even the smallest of compliments. He wants his baby bat to know how much he loves them!! Especially when you have just the cutest reactions to it.

Think Gomez Addams if Gomez was a switch leaning dom (because Mr. Addams is like, canonically a sub lol)

He follows you around a lot, even more so when he’s horny or finds himself having…baby fever, shall we say?

He can’t help it! He’s been wanting to raise another kid and all, and the thought of getting to spend a domestic life with you…the thought of you carrying his child…even if you physically can’t, he still finds himself hot and bothered at the idea. Plus, adoption is always something you two could discuss if you were serious about the actual breeding portion of the breeding kink, but wouldn’t be able to have kids/didn’t want to go through pregnancy.

Unless you’re shorter than him, he’ll likely be the perfect height for him to rest on your chest, and even if you are shorter than him, I can see him being quite attached to your upper body, regardless of whether there is boobage there or not and regardless of level of boobage.

What can I say, he’s a tits man (read tits as gender neutral)

So it’s the first thing he goes for with praise

He’ll casually slide a hand up your shirt at any given time to feel you up, resting his head on your shoulder and humming little compliments in your ear about how soft your skin is, how warm you are, how he just wants to bite down on your cute little nipples and–oh, look at that! They’re already hard hehe

“Khehehe, are you that sensitive, darling? Don’t worry, if it works you up that much, I’ll make sure to take care of you. I love the way your body reacts to just the slightest touch…so gorgeous.”

Lils is an oral fiend, too, and it’s one of his favorite ways to worship you. He’d gladly get on his knees for his precious baby bat at the drop of a hat. Holding your hips in place as he nestles between your thighs and tastes your arousal, his eyes rolling back dramatically so he can show you just how sweet you are to him. Don’t move too much, darling. It’s his job to pleasure you!

“So good. So good for me…you taste perfect…such a sweet pet, all the blood rushing here…be careful, I might just devour you.~”

Obviously it’s hard for him to be vocal with his tongue on your clit/your cock down his mouth, so the heavy praise comes when he finally gets to fuck you.

Lilia typically either opts for doggy or mating press. He loves seeing you ass up, face buried into the pillow as he rams into you, but when his breeding kink flares up, that’s when he prefers the second option.

He likes to see your face when he fucks into you and talks about how cute your red cheeks are, how he wants to stuff you full and fill you up. And he talks. He doesn’t know how to shut his mouth unless he’s using it to get you off.

He’s also generally just very playful and giggly during sex. A brat dom, if you will, so expect plenty of teasing on his end about how needy you look with your legs hiked up like that.

“Pretty little thing, all folded over under me. Look at me, let me see your expression. Ah….mmnh, take my fingers in your mouth, just like you take my cock. Tight little bloodpet…you’re so perfect, little one. I want to see it, I want to see you all full and fucked out. That’s nice isn’t it? You’d love to be knocked up, you’d love to be pumped full of my cum. Awe, look at you. Look at you take it. Your hole is so tight around me, so pretty as you bounce on it. That’s it…that’s it, you’re doing so well. So gorgeous…”

He’ll drag your hips closer as he rocks against you, touching you to the pace of his thrusts, and pushing you down further into the bed with the kind of strength you wouldn’t expect someone so small to have.

He kisses and nips at anything he can get his lips on–your neck, your chest, your stomach and thighs. He’s a groper, too, so he’ll watch as his fingers sink into your skin, leaving bruises on your hips and legs.

“You’re going to be so full and sensitive, I’ll watch you get heavy with my child…you’re mine, you’re perfect and you’re mine.”

Usually Lilia’s far more focused on your pleasure than his, but something about the way you’re begging him to empty inside you is sending shockwaves down his spine. It feels like during sessions like this, he loses his well-composed nature altogether. Right before you’re about to cum, tightening up around his aching cock, he’ll lean in and sink his fangs into your neck, pressing a hand to your abdomen to feel how his dick drags along your walls.

That’s enough to do it for you, the aphrodisiac bite making you cum hard around him, and he doesn’t dare pull out as he cums with you, growling into your neck.

Lils is a fae, and faefolk cum a LOT. It’s hot and sticky as he spills inside of you, holding your hips as close to him as he can, fucking into you as you both finish and you shake. It’s enough to drip out without pulling out, much to Lilia’s disappointment. Guess he’ll just have to cum inside you a few more times to make up for it!

Lilia’s the type to make you cockwarm him after breeding sessions. He can’t have his efforts go to waste–you will be knocked up by the end of the night.

“Maybe I should make you keep a toy in overnight. I have to make sure it takes, sweet thing.”

You can expect a quick session right before class the morning after, too. He’s serious! He really wants to raise kids with you, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

You two make quite the mess of the bed, cum and blood stains are scattered across the sheets. Lilia will handle the clean up, don’t you worry! He has to make certain that his spent little human rests after such a rough session.

Now that you’ve awakened this kink in him, Lilia’s ready for regular breeding talk during sex. Hope you like being fucked into the mattress and used for hours, cause he’s hellbent on making you his breedslut now.

divider credit 𓆩♡𓆪 navigation 𓆩♡𓆪 masterlist

#request #twst #twisted wonderland #secret stash #lilia sin hours #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge smut #lilia vanrouge x reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twst smut #twst x reader #twst x yuu #lilia vanrouge x yuu

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in-another-april · 2 months

Text

summary/prompt + genre - spencer + acts of service | fluff

warnings - none

wc - 429

notes - this is actually two lil blurbs bc i couldn't decide which one to do!!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You sleepily feel around the bed for Spencer, groggily opening your eyes when you find he’s not there. The look of confusion on your face is soon replaced with a soft smile as he enters the room, still in his pajamas with sleep-tousled hair and a coffee mug in hand. You sit up a bit as he reaches your side in a few steps, placing the mug on the end table. He climbs back into bed, scooching right next to you even though the whole other side is available. You don’t mind in the slightest.

“Good morning,” He smiles, brushing the hair from your forehead and dropping a kiss there. You return the greeting, leaning into his touch. “I made you coffee.”

You hum, reaching for the mug and sighing contentedly when the warm liquid meets your lips. Being tuned in to pretty much everything about you is second nature to him, you’ve never actually told him the way you like your coffee. He seemed to have, like with most things, picked up on it easily and somehow manages to make it better than when you’d make it yourself. He is a genius, after all. (Or so he teasingly reminded you after you questioned how he did it.)

━━━━━━━━━

“Ugh, it’s freezing out here.” You complained with a groan, pressing yourself closer to Spencer in a desperate attempt to stay warm as he walked alongside you.

“You know, it’s more-so the wind than it is the temperature.” He supplies helpfully, wrapping his arm around you tightly. “While cold air alone can be deadly, it’s much worse when it’s moving. As wind speed increases, body heat is removed faster.”

He moves to rummage in his bag for a moment, and you grumble at the loss of contact. You were being a little dramatic, it was just another D.C winter, but that didn’t make the walk from the subway to your apartment any easier. Before you could complain any further, Spencer produced a set of gloves from his bag and offered them to you.

“You… Did you really-” You gape, speechless at the sweet gesture.

“You always forget yours, so I figured I should keep a pair with me.” He shrugs, like it’s just a small thing. And it is, really, but it’s still so thoughtful that you can’t help but feel giddy. You pull them over your hands and take one of his, pushing your intertwined hands back into your jacket pocket.

“You’re the best, you know?” You gush, and he smiles amusedly in response, pressing your sides impossibly closer.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #x reader #reid x reader

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m4ttslvr · 4 months

Text

˳ ៚ Good Girl

soft dom!matt x fem!reader

one shot: where Matt likes it when you do as you’re told otherwise he punishes you ;)

warnings: long smut!, spanking w belt, bruising, choking, tying hands, unprotected s3x, lil bit of degradation, pet names, use of y/n

You laid fully exposed beneath your boyfriend Matt, panting. Your pussy was drenched, soaking the sheets beneath you since Matt had been teasing you for over 45 minutes now— and he hadn’t even taken his pants off yet.

He had spent his sweet time marking up your entire body— your breasts, your stomach, your hipbones, the insides of your thighs. Every inch of your skin was stinging and on fire.

His facial hair had given you beard burn, causing the skin to sting when air hit it. You loved it when he let his beard grow for that very reason. He was purposefully neglecting your pussy though, loving to make you squirm and beg. And squirming and begging you were.

You were wrecked and he hadn’t even taken his pants off for god’s sake. By the looks of him, you could tell that all this teasing was affecting him as much as it was affecting you.

His broad shoulders took up your entire line of vision above you and his chest was coated in sweat, making his muscles glisten and his tattoos appear darker. His hair hung low above his eyes, some of it plastered to his forehead with sweat. His cheeks flushed, his lips swollen red, and his cheekbones prominent from the shape of his trimmed beard.

Still, he maintained a cool and collected demeanor that turned you on even more. You knew you had to earn what you wanted from him. He would let himself moan and whine once he was satisfied with your obedience.

He was currently sucking and biting on your right breast while he squeezed your left breast, flicking your sensitive nipple. He licked the bruised skin one last time and began lifting himself off of you. You whined and writhed beneath him as the loss of contact made your desire spark even more.

“Shh shh shh” he said with a finger to his lips and furrowed brows as if your whines were unprompted. You pouted and sighed with desperation. You were starting to lose your mind, having been teased for almost an hour, that you felt tears start to well up in your eyes. You looked up at him with pleading eyes and mouthed “please please please”, feeling so weak your voice wouldn’t come out. Still, you knew that he was going to give you what you wanted whenever he wanted. You just had to be a good girl and comply to his commands.

“Let me take what I want from you” he said, making you moan. “Your turn will come”.

He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your knees— that was the only thing keeping them up since they felt like jelly. You whimpered , desperate for his touch.

“I know, I know babygirl, shh” he reassured you, his voice low and gentle. Those puppy eyes he gave you were the only thing keeping you sane. “You’re being such a good girl, letting me mark you,” he kissed your knee, a smirk forming on his lips. “just be patient.”

“I’ll be your good girl Matty”

He began reaching for his belt, and your eyes wandered from his veiny hands, to his happy trail, and to the big bulge in his pants . You’ve been dying to see his dick that you knew was rock hard since it had been pressed against you the whole time he was biting, kissing, licking, and bruising your body. Your mouth watered and you bit your lip.

He noticed your gaze and smirked as he undid his belt, “my baby, so eager”. His voice was so deep and low with desire, but with an amused and teasing tone. You began rubbing your thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction on your pussy. “Fuck me already Matt, please fuck me senseless” you begged.

He was undoing his belt painfully slow, his smirk only growing wider at your filthy words. You groaned, patience leaving your body, and you sat up to reach for his belt to undo it yourself. You weren’t thinking, your body just reacted out of pure desperation.

He quickly stopped you by grabbing both your wrists with one hand, “what do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice hard.

You looked up at him with regret all over your face, “i’m sorry” you wanted to say, but your voice barely came out as a whisper. “need you now” was your excuse.

He shook his head, “you were being such a good girl, letting me mark you up and tease you” he raised your hands above your head, laying you back down against the pillows. “and i’ve played nice letting you dig your nails in me”

Your eyes are wide. You didn’t realize you had done that. Matt presses your wrists into the mattress, his chest rubbing against your extremely sensitive nipples, “i’m sure you drew blood”. Your brain turns to mush. His dominance is incredibly attractive and you can’t think.

You gasp when he suddenly grabs your by the jaw with his free hand, snapping your attention back to his words. “Are you listening to me?” he asks, his lips gracing yours. You nod your head fast “mhm”. The need to kiss his swollen lips is making it extremely difficult to listen but you want to be his good girl so he can fuck you senseless already.

“I don’t believe you,” he says.

Your heart drops.

“By the way your grinding down on my leg and staring at my lips, I know you’re not listening” he ssighs and roughly lets go of your face, “guess i’ll have to teach you a lesson.” Your jaw drops.

“Keep those hands there,” he commands, you listen. Your eyes follow his movements as you’re frozen waiting to see his next move.

Punish me? You could cum just from the thought. You loved it when Matt was rough with you. Maybe being a bad girl was a good move sometimes.

He pulled his belt off completely in one swift motion, held it in front him folded in half and whipped it together.

Oh.

Fuck. Yes.

“Since you wanted this belt off so bad” he said, “you’re gonna get this belt”.

Your pussy only got more wet and throbbed hard.

He gripped your thighs and pulled you down towards him and held your knees up with your feet in the air, exposing your bare ass cheeks to him. He slid the folded belt up your ass all the way to your thigh. It was cold against your hot skin, which made you hiss, goosebumps forming all over your legs.

“This is what happens to bad girls” he said, and a beat later a wave of pain made you see white behind your eyelids and a yelp escaped your throat. He had whipped both your ass cheeks with the belt. Your head went from being fuzzy to now being wide awake and hyper aware of every sensation on your body. The concentrated heat that the contact of the belt left on your skin sent a wave of pleasure through your entire body.

His eyes were on your face, checking to see if you were liking this or not since this was something he had never done before. Based on your expression that looked like you were orgasming, he continued.

“Three things y/n,” he started. “Three things you need to learn a lesson about.” Matt rubbed the belt where he had hit you.

“One, you don’t make your boyfriend bleed when all he’s doing is taking pleasure in kissing your body”.

You bit your lip trying to hold in your moans. His pupils were blown out and his chest was heaving. Even though his voice was steady, you could tell this was really getting him worked up. So much so that he was now pressing his bulge against your legs. You couldn’t wait to have that dick pounding into you.

“Second,” he slid the belt on your skin, making you shiver, “you listen when i’m talking to you.”

Smack.

Another wave of heat and pleasure. Your head involuntarily turned into your arm, and you bit down letting the pain wash over you. You were becoming undone without Matt’s dick even being inside of you, it was incredible.

He waited for you to open your eyes to read your expression. Yes yes yes yes was written all over your face.

“Thirdly,” he groans since he is rubbing his erection against your leg now.

He is so close to giving in. Finally.

“You wait for me abuse that pretty pussy of yours whenever I want—“ SMACK.

This time he hit so hard it made me see white and my throat could only muster a a small squeak.

“not whenever you want” he said in one breath, dropping your legs, and quickly pulling his pants down.

Your eyes shot open when he spread your legs apart and pounced on top of you between them. Your hands flew to his hair, gripping it hard as he ravaged your lips like a starving animal, moaning and whining into them. Your tongues were sloppy all over each other’s mouths.

His dick was rock hard against your wet pussy. He moaned at the way your juices were seeping through his boxers, coating his dick. His heavy breathing gave air to your lungs and the desperate noises escaping his throat gave you life. When Matt gave in, he gave in completely. At first he liked to be in control because when you did what he wanted and earned what he gave you, you were showing him how much you wanted him and the thing he loved most was to feel wanted by you. As much as he wanted you.

He was showing you how much he wanted you right now. His hand that had just been holding your wrists tightly and punishing you with his belt, was now snaking down your belly all the way to your wet pussy, between your folds, circling fast on your clit just the way you liked it.

You moaned into his mouth and he whimpered in return. The hand that had just been bruising your thighs and gripping your face, was now at your mercy pumping two fingers into your pussy making you moan his name repeatedly. He moaned your name back, his head hung on your shoulder.

“Fuck princess, you’re so wet for me”, he said breathlessly into your ear.

“Yes Matt, yes yes yes” you were moaning so loud, but you didn’t care who heard. You were getting just what you wanted and it was always better than the last time. Matt always made it better— it made your brain melt.

He stopped suddenly, pulling his fingers out of you. You whined, looking up at him in confusion.

“You still need to be punished some more”. He held your wrist together and put them above your head again. “These hands have been very naughty” he said as he began wrapping the belt tight around your wrists. You back arched with pleasure. Matt’s expression was wild, admiring the reaction your body had to him. “Now you’ll learn to be a good girl for me princess”.

“Fuck yes” you moaned.

He kissed down the line of your stomach as he pulled his boxers down, his dick springing free. He licked up your stomach as he flung the boxers across the room.

And without warning he shoved his dick inside of you, making you scream. Matt wasted no time finding a fast rhythm and pumping deep inside of you, his balls snaking against your pussy and his thighs hitting your sensitive ass cheeks. You could feel the girth of his dick stretching your walls open, and it twitched inside you whenever you moaned his name. It felt heavenly.

“My sweet babygirl,” he groaned, “so fucking good for me” his voice sent shivers down your spine and your legs quivered. “The best girl,” he panted, “deserves the best fucking”.

He felt them quivering, so he grabbed them and placed them above his shoulders. The new position allowed for him to hit that sweet spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back and your breath hitched. “There there there,” you moaned. “Faster Matty, please” tears were streaming down your cheeks since the pleasure was overwhelming you in the best way.

He was pounding into you at an incredible speed all you could do was scream his name repeatedly. You started to feel the pleasure pool in your belly, you knew your orgasm was close, your walls tightened around his dick which made him whine loudly in your ear.

He slowed his pace down, making you whine “no no no”. You could start crying.

“Shh baby,” he reassured. “Turn around for me” he pleaded.

You wasted no time, when he pulled out you turned on your side and he positioned behind you. In a heartbeat he rammed his dick back into your throbbing pussy, and pounded mercilessly from behind.

You head fell back into his shoulder, your arms still stretched above you, your wrists burning in the best way.

Matt leaned down connecting your lips, while at the same time he hooked his arm under your leg, lifting it and letting it hang in the air so he could pump that much deeper into you.

Your ass was now as red as ever and each pound felt like the strike of the belt on your cheeks. His free arm snaked under you and his hand gripped your neck just the way you like it. His hand restricted oxygen from entering your lungs and your head went fuzzy. Tears streamed down your eyes and you felt pure euphoria.

“Such a slut for my dick” he said. “Get so desperate for it you let me tie you up”. His taunting making you clench your pussy around him, earning a loud whimpers from Matt. Every inch of his body was touching every inch of yours and the noises he was making were sending you over the edge.

“‘m gonna c–cum M–Matt” you managed to say, your voice strangled and broken.

“Cum on my dick babygirl,” he said breathlessly, his pace unwavering, hitting me just right. “You earned it” he said and pressed his hand against your belly so he could feel himself inside of you.

That sent you over the edge, your orgasm sending heat flashes from your pussy, up your belly and spreading all over your body. It was pure ecstasy. You creamed on his dick and your perfect moan sent him over the edge, his dick twitching inside of you and shooting hot cum deep inside you, coating your walls.

“Fuuuuck” he groaned out, as you both rode your orgasms out. His thrust slowed and he stayed inside you, his balls pressed tightly against your ass. Both of you completely limp and wrecked. Only heavy breathing filled the room.

You were still seeing stars when he slowly pulled out of you, with a hiss and a groan. He draped his arm around you, neither of you separating . He kissed your temple, and laid tight behind you with a sigh.

“Love you babygirl” his deep voice only a whisper. Your heart felt warm.

“Love you too Matty.” You managed, a soft smile on your lips as you drifted off, feeling pure bliss.

a/n: MY FIRST SMUT AHHHH. I needed to write this because everytime Matt wears a belt around that slutty little waste I imagine unspeakable things!!!>_<

teehee, hope u enjoyed<3

₊━ִ─ LEV ᡴꪫㅤ·⠀·

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fandom #fanfic #y/n #y/n smut

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Practice

18+

Dark-ish Mob bucky barnes x virgin maid reader

Warnings: Dub con, manipulation but make it sexy, possessiveness, jealously, SMUT, innocence kink, virginity taking, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, lactation kink, Dom Bucky and the tiniest appearance of sub Bucky. a smidgen of fluff?

What have I done. Reader is very innocent, Bucky is a menace. A MENACE. (he really does like you though) This is so filthy, I’m sorry. So much pent up nastiness. Just filth right through. A lil fucked up. Just a lil. or a lot depending on your limits, the ending is meant to be happy okay?

Bucky’s eyes were locked on you, watching you quietly dust a few shelves, the hem of your skirt riding up as you reached for a vase that rested on top of it. He had to adjust himself as you bent over to put away some books on the bottom of the shelf. Your sweet innocent cotton panties were on full display; the tiny maid dress did nothing to cover any of your modesty.

Fuck, he loved that uniform.

He cocked his head, as you nervously lingered around his office for a second longer instead of leaving immediately as you usually did. You carefully approached his desk, clinging onto your duster for dear life while Bucky sat back in his chair, simply nodding for you speak.

“I-May I have the night off, sir?” You kept your eyes trained on your feet, not daring look up at him while he smirked to himself, enjoying how you bit your lip, fingers gripping the duster, anxiously waiting for his answer.

Always so polite.

“Hm, what for?”

What did his pretty maid have to do, that was so important.

“I-I have a date” You squeaked out, swallowing thickly as your mob moss wordlessly stared at you.

Oh.

“I see” His jaw clenched slightly, “with who” You blinked, picking up on the coldness of Bucky’s voice, shifting on your feet, now wishing you hadn’t said anything.

“Um-John, sir”

“Walker?” You nodded, while Bucky continued to glare at you, softening his gaze again. “Innocent thing like you...” He cocked an eyebrow, eyes raking up and down your body, “You think you’ll please him?”

“P-please him?” You whispered, while Bucky smirked, making you more flustered. "I don’t understand, Mr. Barnes”

“I’m sure he’ll be expecting a lot kotenok, especially at the end of your night”

“What will he expect?” Your voice was hardly a whisper, swallowing thickly at the way your stomach clenched over the pet name he had for you. You were genuinely confused over what he was referring to.

“I’m sure he’ll want those pretty lips all over him princess”

“Like kissing?” You asked innocently while Bucky let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head.

“No doll, he’ll want more than that”

“I’ve never done anything before” You look at him with doe eyes, meeting Bucky’s lust hungry ones, his length straining against the fabric of his pants.

“Anything?” his cock grew harder, unable to contain the way he was throbbing, “You’re a virgin?” His cock started to leak the second you nodded.

His innocent little doll, as sweet as she looked.

No one had ever touched you before.

No one else ever would.

Your heart started to beat faster, feeling stickiness dampen your panties. Why did that always happen when you were near him. You glanced at the clock, realizing it’d be time for you to get ready soon.

“May I go sir?”

“You should practice then, hm?” He ignored your question, eyes boring into you, watching the way you squeezed your thighs together. “You wouldn't want to disappoint him”

You shook your head, you would never want to disappoint your date, you were surprised he even took an interest in you. Still, you weren’t sure...Bucky noted your hesitation, beckoning you to come closer, his legs spread while you stood in front of his chair.

“I-but John...” you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy, wondering if it would be right to do anything with Bucky when someone else had asked you out.

“It’s okay princess, I can help you” His voice was soft, pulling your hand to stand between his legs “You’re not doing anything wrong, I just want you to feel comfortable when you go out with him”

You nodded, feeling a little better while Bucky adjusted himself, his hand brushing over his boner.

“You can practice on me, okay?” You felt the ache between your legs grow stronger, seeing his erection on full display, his cock nearly bursting out of his pants. “I’ll tell you what to do honey, don’t worry”

Bucky undid the button of his pants, unzipping them, and tugging them down slightly, pulling his cock out of his briefs, stroking himself.

“Come here baby, get on your knees for me”

You hesitantly kneeled in front of him, his thick dripping cock, inches away from your face, pearls of precum endlessly beading from the head of his swollen length.

“You’ve never touched a cock, have you” He smirked when you shook your head, taking your hand in his and wrapping it around him. “I’ll show you how to stroke it” His fist wrapped around yours, his calloused rough hands were a stark difference compared to your smaller soft ones. “You feel how hard I am for you sweets? m’sure his cock will be nice and hard for you too” There was a slight taunt in his voice, never, he’d never let these perfect hands touch another man.

He groaned at the feeling of how your skin felt, jerking his cock, guiding you to go up and down his length, from the base to the top, avoiding the tip on purpose.

“It’s so sensitive here baby” He guided your hand to wrap around the tip of his cock, taking your thumb and brushing it over his slit. He hissed, feeling your soft fingers, moving moving you to massage the tip of his cock “Wrap your hand around and twist it when you touch me there, it feels so good” He let go of your hand, watching you do exactly what he showed you.

“Good girl, doing such a good job princess” You preened at his praise, focused on quick long strokes from the base, squeezing gently around the head. “You learn fast, huh baby?”

“Thank you sir” You whispered, your breath hitching when he ran his fingers through your hair.

“You want to practice how to suck a cock kotenok?” You blinked, leaning closer between his legs while he tugged his pants down further to spread his thighs apart more. Your stomach flipped at his soft scent, his length slick with his arousal. He held his cock to your lips, gently bringing you closer. “Don’t be scared doll, it’s just me. You’re practicing remember?”

You nodded, remembering Bucky wasn’t going to judge you though you couldn't help but feel nervous.

“Taste me first sweet heart” Bucky bit his lip, hearing the softest moan slip past your lips when you swiped your tongue across the tip, licking off his precum. “See how wet you make my cock doll, that’s what happens when you’re doing such a good job, its gets so leaky”

“Give me your hand sweets” He tugged your hand to push them between his legs, his heavy sack sitting in your palm “You feel how heavy they are baby, so full of cum. Rub them doll, just like that baby, play with them in those pretty hands” You were careful, your hands softly touching him, not wanting to hurt him accidently. Bucky nearly came on the spot, the vein on the side of his cock pulsing.

“Ready princess?” He brought his length to your mouth, loving the way you hesitantly parted your lips slightly, letting him push just the tip. “Use that soft tongue baby, suckle on it, like you’re drinking from me, nurse on my cock baby, such a good girl, perfect warm wet mouth”

Bucky couldn’t help but lean back in his chair, admiring the way your mouth felt, your lips wrapped around the tip, sucking softly while your tongue swiped around the head.

“Swirl your tongue around, that’s it, give me your other hand” He helped you jerk his cock while you continued to suck him, your other hand still toying with his balls, loving how warm and soft his skin felt.

“Tug them baby, harder, tug my balls” Bucky groaned, feeling you squeeze them, “Wrap your hand tighter around my dick, c’mon princess, jerk me nice and hard while you suck”

“Am I doing okay?” Your lips were swollen, glistening with his arousal, pulling off his cock with a pop, hoping you were making him feel good and not wasting his time.

“You’re doing perfect princess, you ready to try something else now?”

“Yes, sir”

“Take a nice deep breath through your nose, you’re gonna take my whole cock in your mouth” You did as you were told as he guided your head to take his full length, making you gag as soon as his tip nudged down your throat. “There we go, here, hold onto me baby, that’ll make it easier”

Your hands moved to grasp his thighs, your nails digging into his skin, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes. He groaned at the sting of your nails, the prickles of pain getting him off more. He pushed his cock in deeper, moaning when your nails dug into his skin, nearly breaking it.

“Look at what a good job you’re going baby, got my cock so hard for you-fuck-” His teeth were gritted, rocking his hips off the chair, fucking your face. He grasped the back of your head, moving it up and down, his balls tightening, cum ready to blow from his cock. “That’s it, that’s it, doing so good kotenok, don’t stop”

“Be a good girl and suck my cock, there we go pretty girl” He couldn't hold off any longer, all his muscles tensed, his orgasm aching at the base of his cock.

“FUCK” His movements stilled, spilling into your mouth with his warm cum, your tongue and throat coated with his seed. You didn’t think twice, swallowing every drop, pulling off his cock, letting his soaked softening length slap against his skin. He hissed, tucking his cock back in, buttoning his pants while you licked his salty heady taste off your lips.

“Did you swallow princess” His thumb brushed your cheek, wondering why you didn’t hurry off to spit, the content dazed look on your face making his already sensitive dick twitch again. You nodded shyly, while Bucky groaned, grabbing you and smashing his lips onto yours, tasting himself on you. You whimpered against his lips, nervous with how your arousal had dripped onto your thighs, nothing made the ache go away.

“What is it printsessa?” He smirked, his nose trailing up the column of your neck. You let out a shuddered breath, feeling his lips brush your skin.

“I-I feel-” Your words were breathless, too shy to tell him your panties were soaked, the throbbing and aching between your legs was getting worse.

“Do you need something doll?” He cooed, pulling you up to your feet, and grasping your hips to straddle his thigh. You whimpered, feeling his thigh flex under you, the material of your panties rubbing your clit. You could feel your pussy throb, it was too much and not enough at the same time, you knew you needed something, more.

“I need...” Your voice trailed off, your body stiff, holding yourself back form rubbing yourself on him to relieve the throbbing.

“What do you need baby, did sucking my cock get your pussy all tingly and needy” His eyes were blown with lust, cupping your cheek, his thumb tugging down your lower lip. “It’s normal princess, you want me to make that feeling go away?” He whispered, smirking against your skin when you whined, your fingers digging into his shirt.

“You don’t want to go on your date like this, huh doll, you want me to help you?” You nodded, burying your face in his neck, moaning when he firmly held your hips, guiding you to grind and rub yourself on his thigh. “That’s it, we’ll make that achy feeling go away baby” He moved you to press on him harder, ignoring the way his cock was hard again, feeling your slick dampen his pants.

“How does that feel doll”

“Feels-it feels good” You whimpered, panting against his skin, your body felt like it was on fire, you had never felt this much pleasure in your life and he wasn’t even touching you. You could feel yourself climb higher and higher, all the pent up pleasure looking for a way to release

“I-I’m-I-Sir, it feels good, it-I need more-” You cried out, while Bucky growled, rocking you back and forth faster; he could feel your body tense, the scent of your sweet arousal growing stronger.

“You gonna cum baby? Is that little clit throbbing, you’re soaking me princess, let go, cum for me, be a good girl and cum” His words threw you off the edge, your nails digging into his shoulders, grinding on him, squeezing your thighs around his, moaning into his neck. Pleasure and warmth washed over you in waves, your body convulsing while Bucky held you close.

“Feel better sweets?” He rubbed your back while you clung onto him, feeling limp, your mind was hazy, not wanting to leave his arms-

Wait-

No.

John.

Your date.

“Better” Your voice was small, standing on shaky legs as he helped you off his lap. You gasped when he held you in place, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Let’s see how you taste baby, let me show you how he should clean you up after” He tugged your panties off, running a finger through your folds, gathering your slick and licking it clean, his eyes rolling back at the taste of your arousal. As much as he wanted to bury his face in your needy cunt, that would have to wait until he had you spread on his bed. “Don’t let him waste a drop baby, it’s not nice to leave such a pretty doll soaked and messy after making her cum” He dipped his fingers back, gathering whatever you had to offer, greedily tasting you as if you were the sweetest taste in the world.

“You taste perfect babydoll, go get ready so you’re not late” You were so flustered you didn’t notice him tuck your panties away in his pocket. “You remember everything I showed you, hm? How to use that pretty tongue, how to get a cock, nice hard and wet” He cooed, still not letting you go. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, some part of your body screaming to stay and practice more, you wanted to be a good girl and learn everything-

no.

“We can practice more later baby, don’t worry” Bucky let go of your hand while you quickly ran off to your room to get ready “Enjoy yourself doll” Bucky smirked, digging into his pocket, puling his phone out.

****

“What happened sweets” Bucky hid the smile on his face with concern seeing you in your perfect dress, still in your room, far past your date time.

“He cancelled” You sat quietly at the edge of your bed, looking at your phone, the last message from him stating he wasn’t interesting in seeing you. It stung. He was the one that chased after you and you had bothered to spend time getting ready for him just to drop everything at the last minute.

“I’m sorry princess, get some rest, you can have the morning off” He softly closed your door, smiling to himself, sending Steve a quick thank you before going to his room.

No one else would ever have you.

Every since you had practiced with Bucky once, he had insisted you keep practicing so you wouldn't forget anything, always reminding you all this was just between you two and giving you new ways to toy with his cock using your mouth. Of course you didn’t mind, desperate to learn from him, let him teach you. You had gone back to him nearly every single night, craving his bittersweet taste on your tongue and humping and rubbing yourself to satisfaction right after.

“I think we should try something else today” You gasped, as Bucky lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist; you’d just came all over his thigh, it was part of your nightly routine at this point. “Let me show you more princess” He stood up from his office chair with you wrapped around him, taking you to his room. He set you down on his bed, the large mattress firm with warm soft sheets.

“Has anyone seen you naked before?” He knew the answer. And yet he loved being reminded that only his eyes got to see your nude body, “Don’t be shy baby, I won’t tell anyone I saw you like this. Take your clothes off” He whispered, nearly drooling as you took your uniform off with shaky hands, letting the dress pool around your ankles. “Here, let me help you”

Your heart raced as he laid you down on his pillows, his hand snaking behind you back to unclasp your bra, throwing it somewhere across his room. He tugged your panties down, a string of your arousal still clinging to them. He willed himself not to bury his face into your soaked panties, and rub them all over his cock when he already had you spread out for him.

“You have such a pretty pussy baby” He murmured, his eyes locked on your soaked swollen clit, already sensitive from your orgasm minutes ago. “So gorgeous”

“It-it is?” You whispered, your face heating up, squeaking when he nipped your inner thigh, soothing the area again with his tongue.

“It’s perfect princess” You could feel his warm breath against your folds, your thighs trembling to squeeze shut feeling exposed but he held your legs apart. He could see your needy entrance clenching, your clit throbbing but you were to shy to say anything, not even sure what to ask for. “You’re dripping, tell me what you want”

You shook your head, biting your lip while he continued to tease your inner thighs, hoping he’d know what to do.

“You want me to touch you here?” He kissed your folds, making you whimper but it wasn’t enough. “Maybe here?” He moved up further, dragging his tongue through your slick making you moan loudly, god he was so close, just a little-

“Is it this baby” He flicked his tongue on your clit making you cry out, gripping onto his sheets. “Your sensitive little bud needs attention?” You nodded, your jaw slack when he started to lick and suck, gazing up at you from between your legs.

“It’s-it’s so sensitive I-” You withered on the bed, it felt good, almost too good, his tongue and lips working magic, toying with your cunt.

“I know baby, gotta get you used to the feeling, huh? I’ll take care of you sweets, make it easier for you, you’ll let me kiss this pretty clit everyday? Make it all better?” He let out a dark chuckle when you nodded, latching back onto your clit. He ate you out until you came all over his face, wasting no time to strip all his clothes off right after.

“Gonna stretch you baby, you’ve never had a cock inside you before, let me show you how it feels?”

“Will it hurt sir?” You whispered, nervous while he stroked himself above you, you’d taken him in your mouth just fine but getting him inside you....

“Call me daddy”

“Will-will it hurt daddy?”

“Daddy’s gonna go slow, okay?”

You nodded, spreading your legs open further for him, gasping when you felt his cockhead rub through your folds.

“You like when I rub my cock on you?”

“Feels good daddy” Your shaky hands came to grip onto his arms, nervous when he started to press the tip against your entrance.

“Breathe, breathe for daddy, gonna make you feel good sweet girl” He whispered, as he started to push his cock inside you, cooing and kissing you softly while you cried out, digging your nails into his skin from the stretch and sting.

“Daddy, its too much!”

“Shhhh, it’s because its your first time, open up for me kotenok”

You whimpered under him, wrapping your legs and arms around his body, trying to find a way to ground yourself.

“Gonna go slow baby, I know, your pussy is so tight, you need a fat cock to stretch you baby, trust me okay?” As soon as he was fully sheathed inside you, he was more feral then ever. He kissed your temple as he started to rock his hips, struggling to keep his pace slow and gentle.

No one else could have you.

He was going to make you his one way or another.

His cock nearly burst each time you cried out for him, the more you moaned the more he wanted you to be his. He didn’t want you to ever think about going out on a date with another man, not when you already had him.

“You look so pretty wrapped around my cock malyshka“

There was one way he could keep you. His balls tightened against his body at the thought’, it was perfect.

“M’gonna make you a mommy, m’gonna be your daddy, gonna get you nice and pregnant, keep you all just for me baby”

“Daddy!” Your eyes shot open, your pussy clenching at his words, you sounded like a porn star when he started to pound into you faster.

“I am your fuckin’ daddy. You’re all mine, m’the only man who’ll ever fucking touch you, touch this sweet pussy, taste it, fuck it, make love to it, you’re mine princess. You’re. Fucking. Mine” He pulled his cock out, flipping you over and shoving your face into the mattress. He slammed his cock back in, grunting, jack hammering his cock into you, loving the way you made a white creamy mess on his dick.

Sweet baby was probably ovulating. Perfect.

You cried out in pleasure, gripping onto his sheets as he railed you from behind, his hips snapping against your skin, fingers digging into your hips. Your mind was still reeling from his words, your mind racing. Some part of your body was screaming for him to fill you up but-

“Ready baby? Ready for daddy’s babies?” He growled, continuing to thrust into you as you collapsed onto the bed, feeling him even deeper at this angle. He brought his knees up slightly to position himself better, rutting and fucking you, keeping his cock deep inside you.

“I-I can’t get pregnant now daddy” You whimpered, while he pulled out to let you lie down again, shoving his cock right back in.

“Why not princess” He continued to thrust into you, gently cupping your cheek, the blue in his eyes nearly non existent.

“I-m’not ready yet, can’t daddy” You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks, fuck you wanted this so bad but you still didn’t even have your own place, worried about money you had saved up-Bucky could see your mind racing over mundane issues.

“Do you trust daddy angel?” You nodded sniffling, still moaning softly as he started to rock his hips faster again “I’ll take care of you malyshka, you don’t have to worry about anything” You felt conflicted but it didn’t matter, not when he was buried so deep in your warmth, his soft lips kissing you all over between sweet words.

“You’re gonna live with me all the time, okay? M’gonna get you pregnant baby, you’re gonna be all mine. Wanna get you pregnant so badly princess, please? Just let me put a baby in you, I’ll take care of you so well, please pretty girl. Tell me you’re ready baby, tell me you want me babies”

“I-I want your babies daddy!” You moaned out, your body moved on its own, wrapping around him, your cunt clenching and fluttering, screaming for his cum. “Wan’ you to get me pregnant!”

“FUCK Keep saying it baby, say you want my babies”

“I want daddy’s babies”

“AGAIN” He snarled against your neck, your sweet begging making his cock swell and throb. He started to fuck you as hard as he could, chasing his high, desperate to knock you up. He’d fuck you as many times as he had to until it took.

“FUCK Daddy PLEASE”

“Gonna put my babies in you, can’t wait to see you pregnant baby, you’re gonna look so beautiful, so fucking full of me, you’re mine-fucking hell- you’re mine”

“All yours!” You cried out, cumming and gushing all over his cock, your head thrown back on his pillows. Bucky roared against your neck, his hips stilling, pouring loads of his seed into your soaked cunt. It didn’t matter how many rounds it took. He was going to keep going until he saw your belly swell.

A few months later

“Y/n” You could hear him call you from the bedroom, huffing as you clambered off the couch, making your way upstairs. You were in nothing but one of his shirts, some of the buttons at the bottom undone to make room for your tummy. Bucky groaned as soon as you stepped into the room, he’d seen you like that plenty of times and yet still....

If it weren’t for possible prying eyes and other house keepers, he would have forbade you from wearing clothes at all. You waddled into his room, your growing belly protruding from under his shirt your pouty face just made him more feral than ever, every single primal urge desperate to take over.

“Daddy’s hungry” He beckoned you to, setting his book down, biting his lip, pulling you to straddle his lap. He threw your top over your head leaving you bare except for your panties.

“You’re gonna feed our baby so well” Bucky groaned, looking at your swelling breasts, your nipples pebbled and aching.

“It’s sore” you whined when he traced over them, your body sensitive to the slightest touches. “Hurts, feels too heavy”

“Maybe you should let me help you mama, practice now for when our little one comes. Get used to the feeling” He dipped his head down, taking a nipple into his mouth, suckling, groaning when he felt your sweet warmth start to flow.

“You taste so good, sweetest milk ever baby” He greedily drank more from you, moaning and slurping every drop as if he had been starved. “Feeding daddy do good” He moaned, his hands rubbing over your swollen belly, you were so perfectly full of him, he wasn’t going to waste a second to get you pregnant again as soon as your little one was born.

“You can’t drink this much after our baby is born James”

James. Every since you had started calling him by his first name, Bucky didn’t know what to do with himself, it made his cock jump.

“You gonna feed daddy too angel” He latched onto your other breast, continuing to suckle. “Because I get so hungry for you baby, n’you take care of me so well”

You couldn't help but moan at his words, you loved how filthy and debauched he got for you.

“You gonna let me drink from you whenever I want baby? Even when your sleeping? No more sleep shirts mama, wanna be able to drink your milk whenever I want” You were so lost in his filthy world, you didn’t notice he’d pulled his cock out, stroking himself while latched onto you. “Don’t care if your sleeping, wanna drink mommy’s warm milk whenever I want”

Your pussy clenched around nothing, there was something about how desperate he was that that made you feel just as needy.

“You want my milk baby?” You cooed, your eyes growing wide when you noticed he had his cock out, pink and leaking.

“Want it bad baby” He pulled your panties to the side, bringing you down to warm his cock, while he continued to lap at you, there was no way he was going to ever leave you alone, he had to keep you pregnant forever. “Feed me like I’m your baby”

Your hand’s naturally went to cradle his head to your breast, stroking his hair while he held you close, your firm tummy pressed against him, keeping his cock wet and warm. You cooed, stroking his cheeks, kissing his forehead, you’d do anything he asked, you loved being good for him. He hummed with approval, he loved when you practiced new things with him, his pretty sweet pregnant doll.

“You learn so fast mama”

Tags:

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jackpiastri · 9 months

Text

helping hands – op81

oscar is sore from the race, and you'd do anything to help him feel better.

pairing: gender neutral reader x oscar piastri

genre: fluff

warnings: none

author's note: okay soooo today in an interview after the race, oscar was asked if the race was physical – and he answered "my neck's feeling it". and as you may know by now, i do very very much love his neck. so i thought to myself ".....i volunteer to give him a lil massage 🤭", and then this happened. shoutout to my love arms anon, this one's to us neck lovers (and all of you who we've managed to turn into fans of oscar's neck on our journey) <3

and again, this is not my actual blog. check out @httpiastri for more stuff :)

f1 masterlist

you’re standing in the hotel bathroom, wrapping yourself in a fluffy bathrobe after a long shower, when you hear his voice from the other room.

"can you come here for a second?"

the bedroom is dark when you step into it, the low light from the lamp on your bedside table being the only thing illuminating your lover. oscar is lying on his stomach on the bed, his face pushed deep into a pillow. his back rises and lowers with his breaths, the muscles of his upper body peeking out from the duvet covering his bottom half.

"what’s up?" you ask, sitting down next to him on the bed.

he shuffles a little and soon, his head is sideways on the pillows, eyes looking up at you. "my neck is killing me."

"i don’t think that position is making it better, love."

he lets out a groan, which is then followed by a moment of silence as you wait for him to say something. you let one of your hands drag along his shoulder blades, almost as if to help him speak, and his eyes close from the sensation. "could you help me out?"

your heart softens at the question. "of course." you move a little closer, your hand moving through his newly washed hair as if to tell him that you want him to look down again. once his head is in place, you move one of your legs over his body, settling right above his hips.

your hands slide along his back before reaching his neck. you dig your thumbs along the base of it, going all the way up to the back of his head before moving down again. it's soft at first, but your touches grow firmer as time passes, wanting to force his muscles to relax. you feel oscar easing up under your fingers and he hums, letting go of all stress and pressure of the weekend.

there's something so sweet, yet so sensual, about moments like this with him. the way the room is so still and quiet, except for the low sounds of pleasure leaving his mouth; the way his skin feels under your hands, soft and warm; the way your heart flutters when you remember that no one else gets him like this, only you.

there's something about it that makes you feel so connected to him – and he feels the exact same way about you.

your hands move down right below his neck, and then along to his shoulders, working on the little knots hiding under his well-defined muscles. he lets out a muffled sigh when you press on one specific spot and you smile to yourself.

this is far from the first time he’s asked you to give him some massage after a rough race; the amount of strain his body is put through during a race is obviously very high, so you are always happy to help him out. you would gladly massage him until your hands gave out, but he'd always stop you before they even started to get a little sore. just like now.

as your hands drape along the sides of his spine, he turns his head to the side again. his eyes are still shut, seemingly deep in pleasure even when your hands stop moving. "you are the best, you know?" he says, a slight smile taking over his lips. "thank you."

"you are the best," you counter. "otherwise i wouldn't be doing this."

you can feel the chuckle vibrating through his body before you hear it, and you can't help but grin back at him. he pushes himself up to rest on his elbows and he looks back at you before patting the space next to him on the bed. you climb off his frame, leaning down to lie in the same position as him.

his hand smooths over your cheek, pulling you forward to press your lips onto his. his fingers move down the side of your neck, under your robe, caressing your skin much like you'd done to him just moments before. it's another way for him to thank you.

he's so good to you, so sweet, so perfect – and you are so in love with him.

1K notes · View notes

grippingbeskar · 1 year

Text

coming home - simon ‘ghost’ riley

— simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

— warnings - adult content minors dni (18+) mxf, ghost has a filthy mouth, praise kink (?), pretty soft compared to all the ghost s*** out there tbh, slight description of injury and mentions of death. kinda sad ghost but he fucks it out :)

a/n: i have fallen down the ghost hole. just wanted some domestic shit, also the shower description is just something i want in my dream home so it’s self indulgent as fuck! hope you enjoy. xx (also shout-out to @dinahmadanimybeloved for the lil nudge in the right direction!! i appreciate u. xx)

He’s quiet, and that’s how you know somethings off. Most people think it’s just the way he is, being able to count on one hand the amount of words he’s spoken to them over the years. Ghost doesn’t talk unless he has to, or unless he gives enough of a fuck about whoever’s talking to him, which is rare these days. He could go hours without talking when he was away, a fact that always broke your heart a little.

The truth is, you can never get him to shut up. When he’s home, he’ll talk your ear off about anything. The dog he ran past that morning, the way you should organise your socks, how good you looked wearing his shirt. He was talkative, which is how you knew that something was wrong when he came home this time.

Being the biggest guy you knew, it amazed you how he could walk with such stealth. Even the floorboards seemed scared to creak under his frame as he came through the door. You shot up, nearly flying over the back of the couch. He wasn’t due home for another two weeks— you knew because you were supposed to pick him up from the airport. He was home early, and of course you were ecstatic, but then you saw his face, still covered in that bone white mask, and you knew it wasn’t all good news.

“Simon.” You whisper as you walk towards him. He’d closed the door behind him, locking it, but hadn’t moved from there. Usually you were both bursting with energy when he came home, excitement and adrenaline pumping through your bodies at the long awaited reunion. He was looking down at you, and when you finally stood close enough, one of his hands came up, gingerly cupping your face. “You’re home!”

“Hey, baby.” He says slowly, eyes holding yours. The hand he had behind his back touched your side, and you looked down, seeing about a dozen roses in a bouquet, stalks fisted in his gloved hand. “Got ‘em for you.”

“They’re gorgeous. Here—“ You take them, letting the sweet smell fill your senses and move quickly to put them in a vase on the counter— a spot reserved for whenever Simon brought you flowers. It seemed to be a constant thing, and it never failed to have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. “I love them. Thank-you.”

“‘Course.” The tone of his voice only confirms your suspicions about something being off, and it has your heart dropping through the floor.

“You should of told me you were coming home. I would of come picked you up!” You smile up at him, trying to gage where his mood is.

“Finished early. Thought I’d surprise you.” His hands come back to your face, holding your head up at the perfect angle. There was a significant height difference between you, so you were in a constant state of looking up at him.

“Did everything go… good?” You ask tentatively. He’d told you some of the things he’s done over there with the 141, but you always try not to pry. You know it’s brutal, and he sees the worst of the world, so when he trusts you with something, you take it to the grave. When he doesn’t, you don’t ask.

“No. Nothing did.” He says, still holding your face up to his. You bend up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to the nose of his mask. “I just needed to see you.”

“I’m glad you’re home.” Your arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer. You press your face into his chest, sinking into the feeling of him being home. After so long, it never gets any easier. Watching him leave, never really knowing when he’d be back. If he was safe. “You want something to eat? I can make dinner.”

He shakes his head, gently pulling your face back from his chest. When your hands snake up his front, he just watches you. He hadn’t even changed out of his clothes— still had that black paint smudged across his eyes. He must of gotten straight on a plane after whatever he was doing had come to an abrupt end. Your fingertips brush his jaw, the bottom of his mask, and when you go to pull it up over his mouth and nose, he doesn’t stop you.

“Can I take it off?” You check, feeling how stiff he is under your hands. He nods once, and tilts his head, allowing you to pull it all the way off. “There you are.”

“I missed you.” He says simply, but the words pack such a punch when he looks like this. To an outsider he’s hard at nails, sharp and pointy and dangerous to get close to, but you see him under the paint and the body armour. “Missed you so fucking bad, baby.”

“Prove it.” You see a flash of his teeth, just the smallest hint of a smile, and your stomach does a backflip because it feels like a win. Then, he leans in, kissing you softly, with the care he would hold broken glass— hands guiding you forward and up, thumbs tracing gently along your cheek bones.

You sigh, nearly melting into his body. Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with the short hair that he’d cut while he was away. You always have to fix it for him when he comes home— he just hacks away at any hair hanging out of his mask, mostly getting frustrated and buzzing it off until he can get you to cut it again. When your fingertips scrape lightly along his skull, he groans into your mouth.

“Fuck.” He mutters as you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, careful to only apply a little bit of pressure. You were sure he was covered in enough painful marks as it was— you didn’t want to add to it. He leans down further, chasing your mouth, foreheads pressing together.

“You wanna talk about it?” He shakes his head then dips down, kissing your jaw, nose nudging you to the side to get better access to your neck. Your breathe hitches and you sigh his name, him smiling in response against your skin. You can feel the black smudge of his face paint slowly covering your own, like a trail of all the places he’s touched you.

“I only wanna hear you sayin’ my name like that. Don’t want to think about—“ You say his name again, drowning out the thoughts of whatever happened over there. That wasn’t now— he was here, and safe, and if he needed to be distracted, that’s exactly what you would give him.

“Need you to wash this paint off first.” You murmur, your voice a little lower than normal, making him almost shudder. You drop your hands from his neck, letting them fall slowly between your bodies before you loop your fingers in his belt buckle, walking backwards. “You’ll get me all dirty.”

“I would’a thought you’d like that.” He grabs a handful of your ass, nearly making you trip over as you step back, but he catches you easily and picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. He presses his paint covered face to yours, kissing your nose and face wherever he can reach, and you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous you must look now, covered in smears of black.

“I do. Just want an excuse to see you naked.” You taunt in his ear as he finally reaches the shower and flicks it on, still fully clothed. “You buzzed your hair again.”

“You know I can’t do it right without you.” He puts you down, quickly ripping off his own shirt before reaching for the hem of yours.

He’s slower with it, the fabric brushing against your sides, giving you goosebumps. It doesn’t matter how many times you take your shirt off in front of him, he always looks just as dazed as he did the first time, and you always get just as nervous.

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby. Come ‘ere.”

He pulls you fully under the stream of the shower. It’s one of your favourite places in your shared house— a giant shower head that let the water fall as fine as rain, with enough space for his giant body not to have to bend at awkward angles to wash his hair (when he had some). It was also well big enough for the both of you, a feature you both utilised every morning and night you spent together.

He works at your shorts next, easily slipping you out of the now wet cotton, leaving you just in a set of underwear. They weren’t particularly cute— like you said, you would normally dress up for him to come home, but he wasn’t due for two weeks. Simon didn’t seem to mind, hands running wildly over your body, eyes on fire. You were starting to see him clearer now, the paint running off his face and down his bare chest in shadowed droplets.

“God, Simon…” You lean back just an inch, seeing the new marks on his chest and shoulder. A new bullet wound in the right arm. A gash that extends all the way up his left side. It still looked like it was healing— the stitches must of only come out a few days ago.

“I’m okay.” He says, kissing your collarbone.

“I don’t like when you get hurt.” You whimper, feeling his strong hands grab your hips, pushing your underwear down. “Are you sure—“

“Let me take your mind off it.” He leans down further, kissing your chest, and then drops completely, landing on his knees in front of you. He was so tall that he still needed to bend lower to kiss his way down, feeling his lips press softly on your hip bones, then your stomach. “Look at you. Such a pretty girl.”

He taps your inner thigh with two fingers, a silent command. You follow, spreading your legs slightly. He’s not satisfied, hooking one leg over his shoulder while the other is pinned between him and the wall. At this point you weren’t even holding yourself up— the display of brute strength making your head feel fuzzy.

“Dreamt about this.” He kisses closer, skin that hasn’t been touched in weeks nearly sparking under his manipulation. “Out on base. Couldn’t keep this pussy out of my head.”

“Simon, please.” You beg shamelessly. You have no pride when it comes to him, not when he’s holding you like this, reducing you to putty in his hands before he’s even really touched you.

“Never leaving this house again.” His words nearly get lost between your thighs. You arch your back to encourage him, but he holds you flat. “Gonna keep you here forever. Right here, just like this.”

“Simon.”

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d say my name all pretty like that and let me do whatever I wanted.” You were nodding furiously, hands finding little purchase in his short hair but it was all you could do to get him closer— “Want you to ride my face. Give me everything you’ve got.”

“Okay, please… please just—“

“What, baby?”

“Fucking touch me, Simon. Please.” You know he doesn’t respond to bad manners, so you throw as many around as you can. He smiles between your legs, kissing your thigh once more before you lose sight of his now clean face, burying himself in your pussy. “Fuck!”

He’s no stranger to eating you out— he always tells you how much he loves it, like it’s a reward for him. He always makes you see stars, too, but right now, the way he’s practically taking you apart from the middle out, it wasn’t like anything you’ve felt before. He keeps one hand on your hip, pinning you under him, the other slipping a finger inside of you, working in perfect tandem with his mouth.

You can’t decide what it is, but fuck— maybe it’s the water, how soft it falls on the both of you, combined with the overwhelming feeling of having Simon back early and safe— it was having a physical affect on you. Weak knees that were taking none of your weight in them, choked gasps of his name— your eyes roll back in your head before long, hips bucking wildly against his hold as your whole body shudders with pleasure.

“God— so fucking good for me, princess.” He says, taking a second to pull back and admire how strung out you look before diving back into you. His gaze never leaves you then, watching as your face contorts with every glide of his tongue over your clit, or how every time he moves his hand just right your whole body jolts. He seeks it out again and again, and you can feel him smiling underneath you, watching you writhe as liquid heat spreads all the way through your veins, carrying pleasure to every nerve ending you had.

It was an entire body experience, and you couldn’t even keep your eyes open anymore. You let him get rougher, at some point hooking your other leg over his shoulder, so you were completely suspended in the air. Your thighs clamped around his head, trapping him in position as you neared your high, and Simon only gripped you tighter, his hands kneading the flesh of your ass. He held you hard, in a way that you knew would leave the good kind of bruise, and the image only sky rocketed your state.

“Don’t stop, Si. Fuck— you’re so good, so fucking good, I… ah—“ You cut yourself off when he groans— really groans into you, and you feel him switch gears at the praise. He must like hearing it, how good he is at this. How good he makes you feel. While you still have the ability to talk, you keep going— anything to get him not to stop. “You feel so good, Simon. Gonna make me c— oh fuck, right there.”

You feel the stretch of two of his thick fingers, easing you open, and you know it’s out of your control. There’s an electric feeling in your stomach you don’t recognise, bordering on too much of a good thing. You almost don’t want to fall into it, but Simon, with his talented hands and mouth that’s never satiated, you wouldn’t get much of a choice. Your brain couldn’t move your legs anymore, only able to blank out and take it— take all of what Simon was so desperate to give you, and who were you not to indulge your man?

“C’mon, princess. Let me see you… just let go. Want it so bad, pretty girl.” The pet names, his tongue lapping at your sensitive nerves, his fingers curling inside of you— there was no way to avoid the plummet into overwhelming pleasure, Simons hands being the only thing holding you to the real world.

You cum with a choke of his name, and a string of indiscernible words babble out of your mouth. You hear Simon saying something, but it sounds so far off, your only focus on that feeling. He doesn’t stop, still buried inside of you as close as he can, and he doesn’t let up until your physically clawing at him, flinching away from the lap of his tongue.

You feel wrung out— like you’d just been suffocated and were slowly coming back to consciousness. It was possible you really did pass out, if you were honest. Simon was still holding you up easily, hands now holding your thighs to his shoulders, eyes wide and staring at you in fascination.

“Holy fuck, baby. That was fucking… you are so hot.” Out of breath and energy you manage to burst out laughing at his compliment, feeling yourself slowly sliding down the wall of the shower. Everything felt like jelly, but as Simon bent down to kiss you, your hand brushed against his boxers, and you tugged at them. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you now, baby?”

“Mmm.” You hum, body still twitching from the aftershocks of the biggest orgasm of your life. You tug harder at the seam of his boxers, and he kisses your forehead.

“Shh. Take a minute.” Your eyebrows furrow together, feeling a little juvenile in your fuzzy state.

“Please, Si. I’ve waited so long for this. Please, just…” You slip the fabric over his cock, already hard and waiting, and duck your hand under to stroke him gently. He swears, shuddering under your soft touch. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Turn around, princess.” He breathes, and you smile victoriously, getting another laugh out of him. “Fuckin’ insatiable.”

“Only for you.” He helps you get onto all fours, rough palms of his hands smoothing over your ass and lower back.

“Mhmm. Mine, aren’t you?” You nod, feeling him lean down to kiss your shoulder blades before you feel his cock, sliding between your legs and settling at your entrance. He gives you a second or two— it always takes you a while to adjust to the pure size of him when he gets home. You’d never say it, but you hope you never get used to it. A bit of pain with the pleasure he rings from you seems a fair trade for all the dirty things he says when he finally enters you.

You push back against him, making him hiss as a little more of his length disappears into you. He lightly smacks your ass just once and you arch into the touch. He’s never been one to throw you around, not wanting to even think about the possibility of hurting the one good thing he has in this life— but he can’t help but be memorised by the way you react when he treats you a little tougher. He does it again, and hearing your moan is apparently the last thing he needs to bottom out behind you.

You both sigh— finally feeling each other this way. There was something to be said about the first fuck when he came home. It was so much more than that. It was like something from a movie, how they called it making ‘love’. You’d always thought it one and the same— until you met Simon. He starts slow, purposeful as he drove his hips back and forth in a pace that had you feeling dizzy after just a few thrusts. He was so strong without even knowing, you had to smack your hand to the wall to keep from sliding away every-time his hips collided with yours. He hit spots inside of you you never knew you had until you met him, and it was borderline embarrassing how quickly you felt that ball of pleasure in your stomach tighten— preparing for release.

“So tight. Always t-take me so fuckin’ good. Jesus Christ.” Hearing Simon Riley stumble over his words was the ego boost of the century.

“Just like that, Si. Fuck.” You feel one of his hands sliding up higher, touching any part of you he could reach— hands brushing over your side, your tits, reaching up to tangle in your hair. When he pulls slightly it has you squeezing your eyes shut, the combination of his touch all over you making you dizzy.

He starts to come back to himself, talking constantly as he drives his hips harder and faster. Constant praises come out in a low, raspy voice, only interrupted by you chorusing them back to him. It had always been like this with him, the filter between his brain and mouth broken as soon as he got inside you, leading to a string of compliments too dirty to repeat anywhere else— but it was the hottest fucking thing in the world to you.

“C-can’t last much longer, princess. S’feels too good.” He slurs, and you look over your shoulder. His shoulders are completely relaxed, jaw slack and eyes half open, and there’s none of that stiffness from before when he came home. Now, he was in his element, not thinking about whatever went wrong on the outside— he was just here with you.

“Fuck, gonna cum, Simon— just a little m-fuck.” You didn’t have to tell him, he knows your body better than you do, and when his hand slips under your hips so that he can circle your clit in soft, quick movements, your arms drop out from under you as pleasure overwhelms you. This time, you’re pretty sure you do pass out, the only thing you can hold onto in that in-between is Simons voice.

“There it is. Fuck—yes… yes. Fuck!” He swears the whole way through as he cums, and you feel him pull out at the last second, warmth spreading over your ass and lower back. You try to pick yourself up, giving him a pretty picture, but your body is so weak that you just stay right where he puts you. His free hand grips your waist, keeping the backs of your thighs pressed to the front of his.

The water was still running a warm stream over the both of you, and when Simon’s orgasm wrings out the last few jolts of pleasure, he’s just as fucked out as you are. All but collapsing over the top of you, he keeps himself up with one arm, the other wrapping underneath both your bodies. He kisses along the back of your shoulder blades, murmuring praise into your skin.

“Baby… baby. Missed you.” He repeats, and you turn your head, finding the strength to hold yourself up a little to kiss him. Once he knows your starting to come back, he switches positions, using the arm underneath you to hold you to him as he leans himself against the wall of the shower, your back tucked to his chest.

“Missed you more.” You look up, finding him staring down at you. He smiles then, and your still a little dazed but he just looks so good when he smiles— “I love you.”

“I love you.” He repeats.

It might just be the heat of what you just did mixed with the warm stream of water above you, but you swear he blushes. No matter how many times you say it to each other, he still reacts like that. You both sit in silence for a little, your body now tired and slumping against him, held up by his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you tightly.

“You scared me a little, when you came home.” You say softly, your hands tracing along his forearm. “I never know how to make it all okay— I can’t make it okay.”

“You just gotta be here. That’s all I need.” His head dips to lean down, leaning on your shoulder.

“I will be. Always.” You say, never meaning anything more. It’s been years of you knowing Simon, just a little less than that being his, but you know this is it for you. Even when you first met him, you knew you’d always be there when he came home— waiting for him.

“We… we lost some good people this time. Just makes me think.” He hugs you closer, feeling his hands splay out in your sides. “This guy got caught in the crossfire, I don’t know what happened, but I watched them tell his girlfriend. She just lost it.”

You swallow hard, hearing his voice crack.

“The boys said they found her photo in his wallet. A ring, too. Was gonna propose.”

“Jesus.” He nods, head still firmly tucked into the crook of your neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“I had to get out, come home for a bit after this one. I don’t want… there’s so much stuff I need to do, stuff I want to tell you about, and if I didn’t make it back—“

“Don’t think like that. You’ll always come home. You promised me you would.” Your throat tightens, trying your best not to cry at a time like this. You couldn’t help it when he spoke like that.

“I know, baby. I just mean…” He takes in a long breath, then looks up, tilting your head so he could look you in the eye. “I don’t wanna leave here without you knowing how much I— that I…”

“I know.” You let your fingertips drag softly along his jaw, but he shakes his head.

“No, I… fuck— I’m sorry.” You sit up, a little worried about where this is going. His hands leave your waist, holding your face in the same gentle way he did when he came home. “It just… you deserve so much, and I want to give it to you. The whole flight over— longer than that, I’ve been thinking about asking you something. I just don’t know how.”

“You can ask me anything.” Kneeling between his legs, your hands press to his chest, feeling the racing of his heart. You lean forward, kissing him, telling him all the words you can’t fit into the moment. Whatever he takes from it seems to be enough— because as well as he knew you, you knew him too. He pulls away, and when he does, you don’t see any traces of the man people seem to fear, or hate.

You just see him.

You nearly hold your breath in anticipation, watching as his eyes flit between your mouth and your eyes.

“Simon.” You say again, and his eyes flutter closed. Then he pulls you forward, and utters two words that shift your entire world on its axis.

“Marry me.”

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #ghost mw2 #mw2 fic #cod fic #call of duty fanfic

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theemporium · 6 months

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Ahhh🧸🧸🧸 lando with his teen daughter who got drink for the first time? Maybe she snuck out when she wasn’t meant to but instead of being mad he’s just sweet and taking care of her and glad nothing happened to her🥹 maybe a lil snarky bc he’s lando

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

“And where have you been all night, missy?”

Lando pressed his lips together when he watched his daughter freeze at the bottom of the steps and despite her back being to him, he could envision the look on her face so clearly. He knew exactly where she was. He knew exactly what she had done. But it was still sweet that she thought she was being subtle with the whole thing.

He knew the second you said no to your daughter about a party she wanted to attend, that she was going to disobey anyways. He saw the glint in her eyes, the same glint of mischief he recognised on his own. He knew she would be sneaking out. And maybe he should have prevented it, but he would’ve rather his daughter rebel when he was aware rather than do something worse when he wasn’t around.

He stayed awake, keeping an eye on her location (which she had stupidly forgotten to turn off) and made sure he was prepared to jump in the car if something happened. Eva was a daddy’s girl through and through, and he knew he would be the first person she would call if something happened.

Thankfully, nothing had happened except for the door she accidentally slammed on her way into the house.

“Uh,” Eva cleared her throat, gripping onto the bannister as she started to sway. “Midnight walk?”

“At four in the morning?” Lando countered.

“Midnight walks are about the vibe, not the time,” Eva said, her back still to Lando.

“And did you happen to encounter any alcohol on this walk?” Lando asked, watching the way her whole body tensed before she turned around, an innocent smile on her face.

“Don’t be silly, dad,” she scoffed, only to let out a little hiccup before she could finish her sentence.

He gave her a soft smile. “C’mon, champ, let’s get you sobered up and in bed before you throw up on the carpet. Your mum will kick off if she wakes up to vomit stains, trust me.”

Eva opened her mouth to disagree, to wave her father off and insist she wasn’t drunk and that she was perfectly fine. But then she was stumbling and Lando was rushing towards her, and her limbs just felt so heavy from the walk between the taxi and the front door and she couldn’t be bothered hiding it anymore.

“M’sorry,” she muttered, the words muffled as she rested her head on her father’s chest.

“It’s fine, honey,” Lando assured her as he wound one arm around her back and the other behind her knees, swooping her up in his arms as he began to head upstairs. “You’re a teenager. It’s what you crazy kids do.”

“Are you mad?” Her voice was so small, so scared. He hated it.

“Never, Eva-Bunny,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her hairline. “Just wanna know you’re safe. That’s all me and your mother want.”

“I know,” she sighed, nuzzling her face against the soft fabric of the hoodie he was wearing. “M’sorry for lying.”

“It’s not me you have to apologise to,” he said as he gently pushed her bedroom door open with his foot. “You’re gonna have a killer headache as your punishment in the morning.”

Eva let out a whine. “I don’t want it.”

Lando snorted. “You don’t get a choice, honey.” He placed her down on the bed, lying her head on the pillow before he moved to grab some clothes she could change into while he went down to get her some water and painkillers. “If you’re lucky, your mum will make her infamous hangover cure. Use the puppy dog eyes, she could never say no to those.”

Eva gave him a sleepy smile. “Think you can do something to piss her off so she isn’t too mad at me in the morning?”

“And put myself in the line of fire?” Lando retorted before giving her a matching smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“Anytime, Eva-Bunny.”

#cece's slumblurb party #lando norris #formula one #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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eyesxxyou · 4 months

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❝ nude bodies ❞ (artist!hobie x trans ftm!reader)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. friends to lovers, a little bit of awkwardness, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), reader has a t-dick, very sweet sex (bordering on love making), creampie, hobie gets a little sappy at the end. you've been long time best friends with hobie for years, both secretly pining after each other. you both think nothing will ever come of your feelings until hobie asks to draw you nude.

wc: 5k

The sun was hot on your face. The rough sound of pencil meeting paper tickled your ears. Hobie hummed a soft tune while his hand carved out the rough shapes of your face into paper. His eyes kept flicking from his sketchbook to you, his gaze lingering on your closed eyes before wandering a little lower to trace the shape of your honeydew lips.

He reached out, his hand tenderly caressing the side of your face to get you to turn your head to the slightest degree so that the sun hit your face at just the right angle to make you glow honey gold. He touched you like a masterpiece, one of the old greats, like you would crumble if pressed too hard. His thumb traced your lip and you shivered ever so slightly.

“Have ya ever though’ of letting me draw ya nude?” Hobie had a way of saying things. Careless or carefree, you chose because he doesn't have the energy to do it himself, too busy drawing or playing the guitar.

You open your eyes, a deep frown painting itself across your honeydew lips. “You want to draw me what?” You sat up on your arms and Hobie sat up with you on his knees, his hand on your chest to push you back down onto the smooth wood of his deck. “Nude. Was I no’ loud enough? Keep still, dove. ‘m no’ done.”

You sigh and relent, laying back in the sun with your head tilted towards him to catch the golden rays. Hobie settled back down beside you and began sketching again.

You won't say Hobie didn't rattle something within you. Nude was intimate, nude meant vulnerable, nude meant served on a platter with all your feelings splayed out so brazenly before him. You couldn't hide anything from him while naked, couldn't hide how every gentle touch of his warm fingertips made your heart leap and your groin ache with feelings you’re forced to call want. You couldn't hide from his wandering gaze powdered with the stark neutrality of someone who didn't care either way.

“Why would you want to draw me naked?” You try not to move too much while you talk, try not to make a big deal out of his request. Why would he want to draw your body? Your body didn't look like everyone else's, the crescent-shaped twin scars cupping your chest made sure of that. Not to mention all the changes gone on between your legs. You’re not the most ideal person in the world to draw nude according to every societal standard.

But Hobie wasn't one to care about a social standard. “Why wouldn' I? I draw ya all the time. Yer my lovely lil muse.” He touched his pencil behind his ear and set his sketchbook down closed beside him. He shifted himself, laid down right beside you with his head propped up on his hand, looking down on you as you lay below him.

Hobie reached out and pinched your cheek. “Jus’ think ‘bout i’. No pressure. I wan’cha to be comfortable with the idea.” He lied down completely beside you, just the two of you lying on the deck of his boat, shirtless, arms touching all the way from shoulder down to the backs of your hands. You could grab his hand if you wanted to. He could grab yours. Your finger twitches with the idea of it. But that's not what friends do.

“What would happen if I agreed?” You asked timidly. Hobie turned his head, eyes carefully tracing the lines of your side profile. “We’d wait a week before we did anythin’. Jus’ in case you became a chicken and wan’ed to back ou’.” He teased as he always did and that set you at ease as you turned your head to meet his gaze.

His deep-set eyes traced the contours of your face with dedication and admiration. If you hadn't known any better you might have said he did it lovingly. But he was an artist at the end of the day and your best friend. Any love he had beyond a platonic one was for what you do for his art. “You bring it to life.” He once said. He did not love you the way you loved him. You were sure of it.

“Lemme finish this piece then we can grab a bite, yeah?” Hobie sat up and placed his hand on your chest, patting you the way a friend pats another in the back. He doesn't let his touch linger even though every atom of your body begged and pleaded for him to just touch you, touch you anywhere, you didn't care where. Just let it stay there, let it linger a little longer, let it hold so you might know that he's real and he’s yours.

You consider it while he draws with your eyes closed and your hands resting on your belly, tracing imaginary lines and imagining it’s Hobie doing it with the tips of his nimble fingers. He wouldn't make it weird, wouldn't tease you about it for the rest of your lives, wouldn't embarrass you by telling others. That's not how he is. It would just be between the two of you, from one man to another.

Hobie sits beside you in silence, hoping he didn't ruin anything you two had, the soft progress you have made with each other years in the making. He’s been dropping hints for years now, the obvious ones only made in the last few months. Unnecessary lingering touches, brushing his hand against yours to give you the opportunity to grab on and stay that way. He holds your face so softly so fucks sake, leans in so close he might just kiss you but leaves it to you to make the final move. You never do. He called you his muse, told you his art is nothing without you and yet you still look at him with that blank, oblivious look in your eyes that makes him want to tell you straight up that he’s in love with you. You’d probably still tilt your head like a puppy, confused and unknowing.

His eyes lavish over your body, every piece of exposed skin being feasted upon by his greedy gaze. Your eyes are closed, you’d never know. He wants to trace his fingers along your scars, kiss them, kiss you, feel your skin on his and know you a little more than he already does.

“I’ll do it.” You concede. “You can’t show it to anyone though. I’d die of humiliation.”

“Never planned to, dove.” Hobie smiled. “It’ll just be between me ‘n you. It’s just anatomy practice.” Anatomy practice sounded good, sounded reasonable, sounded like he wasn't just trying to find any excuse to witness you naked. Did it make him sick, perverted, what he’d end up doing with that drawing as he did with nearly all his other drawings of you? Did it make him bad that he’d end up with his hand firmly wrapped around his cock, pleading for a single moment, a single chance? Did it make him wrong that he’d ruin the page with cum and would have to redraw it all over again?

You remind him, “I don't have regular anatomy.”

“I don't need regular, dove.” Hobie looks up from his sketchbook, flipping his pencil to erase a small imperfection in his work. “I just need you.”

Hobie gave you a week. An entire week to reconsider and yet you remained steadfast in your decision. It wouldn't be weird. Hobie has a way of making awkward situations completely comfortable with his light-heartedness. He never took anything seriously so why should you?

Boarding his boat meant accepting wholly that you’d be naked in front of him and a part of you, while nervous, was comfortable with that. If you were to be naked in front of anyone in the entire world, you’d want it to be your best friend, the person you trust most in this world.

Hobie was waiting for you inside, guitar in lap while strumming some cords to a melody he was humming. You kicked your shoes off at the door and let it slam shut behind you as if it were sealing you in. You can't back out now. You had promised.

Hobie put his guitar down on it’s display rack and tossed the pick into a small box of picks he had sitting on a small table beside his bed. “Mr. Punctuality ova here. I wasn' expectin’ ya fo’ anotha hour.” He hopped down from the ledge he was sitting on, stumbling a bit but ultimately landing on his feet. He came over and tossed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body for a half-hearted hug.

“You told me to come at 1.”

“But when I say tha’ I really mean 2. You know ion run on other people's time.” He offered a cheeky little dimpled smile across those dark lips of his that you adored more than you could ever say. He rubbed your shoulder a little before patting it and letting you go. You wanted to run back to him, to tell him to embrace you once more but fully this time. You didn't want to embarrass yourself by doing so.

“Are ya sure ya do this?” He offered you one last chance to back out before the two of you started. “We can always stop if ya feel uncomfortable,” he assured you.

You nodded slowly, lips curling into a soft, self-assuring smile. “I’m okay. Let’s do this.” Your heart beat so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat and hear it in your ears. You balled your hands into fists, thumbs in your palms, squeezing with anxiety. You trusted him, knew he would do nothing to make you feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll be back in a momen’, you can get on the bed when you’re ready.” Hobie went to leave to afford you some privacy. You appreciated his thoughtfulness and watched him go with a shaky breath. You wrung your hands, grasping the hem of your shirt to sooth yourself before you began.

You started with your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding it up neatly before placing it on the edge of Hobie’s bed. That was soon followed by your pants, then your underwear. You’re not used to being naked, especially not in Hobie’s boathouse. You felt vulnerable, your hands immediately went to cup your love and cover yourself without so much as a second thought.

You climbed up onto Hobie’s bed and covered yourself with his duvet, waiting for him to return so that you can get this over with. You tell yourself it’s for anatomy practice, that it’s nothing more than that. But there’s something oddly intimate about being wrapped up in his planets, lying in his bed with his deep, musky scent permeating your senses and soothing your raging nerves.

You lay there with your face pressed into his pillow awaiting Hobie’s return. Your fingers gripped his sheets, twisting and fingering the fabric anxiously as you watch the door crack open and Hobie’s head poke inside to ensure you’re properly prepared. He saw you curled up in his bed and smiled with a tender softness. “You ready?”

You nodded, nipping at your bottom lip. Hobie came shuffling in, closing the door behind himself gently. He rummaged about his flat, grabbing his sketchbook and a sharpened pencil before coming over to you in his bed.

Hobie climbed in with you, shuffling over to kneel beside your covered body. He set his sketchbook down and carefully reached out to grasp the edge of the blanket you had covered your modesty up with. “May I?” His eyes were soft looking upon you, they ask for permission too, ask for you to let your guard down for just a moment. They ask for you to trust him

You do. You trust him wholeheartedly. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you nod subtly and let go of the blanket. You let him peel it away from you but your hands return between your legs to keep yourself covered.

“Jus' relax f’me, dove.” His slender fingers grasped your wrists, carefully and gently pulling them away from your tender lips. You don't resist him, you let him take your hands in his and remove them from the spot where you find yourself feeling the most vulnerable. There's something about his touches that feels more intimate than before. Your nudity amplified every caress of his hand against your skin. You could feel it linger throughout your body.

Hobie gazed at you, his eyes scanning down the length of your trembling body, hitching at your chest and groin for just a lingering moment. You don’t hear the way he murmurs soft prayers under his breath, a plea for strength, for the worthiness to admire such a sacred body in its most bare state.

Starting the sketch was the hardest part. Hobie was used to touching you, holding your face, dragging a finger along the curve of your jaw, his fingertips kissing your eyelids, tracing the underside of your lips. He was a physical learner and with time, he knew your face like he knew his own palm, all the lines and shadows that made it up.

But he didn’t know your body. Not the way he wanted to.

You could see the frustration crossing his face as he turned his pencil and erased his work for the second time, “Is there anything I can do to help?” Your voice was timid and beautiful, ringing with an air of genuine concern. You hadn’t expected Hobie to ask to touch you.

“F’r visual purposes only. I don’ – know ya body yet. No’ like I know ya face.” His hands wrung against his lap, refraining from making himself too comfortable with your pretty body. He imagined your skin would be soft beneath his palms, supple as he dipped his graphite-covered fingers into your flesh. “You don’t have’ta.”

“You can.” You say almost too quickly. Did he catch the desperation in your voice? Did he catch the way you leaned in just a little further, the way you crossed your legs at the mere thought of his hands stroking down the length of your bare skin. Had you given yourself away? Had you shown all of your cards like an amateur?

You watched Hobie place his things down and come over to climb back onto the bed with you. You sat up and let out a startled little gasp. Hobie was suddenly closer than you had expected, sitting beside you with his hands on either side of your legs to prop himself up.

“Jus’ tell me when t’stop, yeah?”

He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help but to touch. Hobie started at your face, the familiarity of it offering you ease and comfort. His hand cupped your cheek. Brushing a soft thumb under your eyes, palm cupping along your jaw and his thumb moving up slightly to skim over your soft eyelid. The pads of his fingers move to your lips, tracing them left to right, right to left. His eyes flick between your lips and your coy gaze, too shy to fully meet his every time he looks at you.

His other hand skimmed at your waist. His fingertips touching at your chest, tracing your scars with such loving care. Hobie likes the way you shiver under his touch, likes the way your body rolls as he makes his way lower to your belly where your happy trail begins, leading lower and lower. He doesn’t go all the way though you so desperately wished he would.

His hand touches your thigh, the other trailing down your shoulder, to your elbow, to your hand where his fingers slip beneath yours. Before you know it, your fingers are laced with his. There was something so innocent about it, something so beautiful and soft. His hand on your thigh, tracing circles into your flesh felt just as innocent in the beginning. But his fingers were trailing .along your inner thigh, gripping the flesh there with something far darker that anything platonic.

It was hard not to melt into his touch, a touch so hot that it left your skin burning where he met it. Your chest burned with desire. Your gaze, a little more brazen now, showed as much. You swallowed thickly as you caught Hobie’s gaze and suddenly you were doing just the same as him, staring at that lip piercing that glinted under the dim lighting of his bedroom.

It was the same thought that crossed your minds.

“Can I kiss ya?”

“For your drawing, right?”

Hobie nodded slowly, leaning in with a subtle tilt of his head. His lips hovered slightly over yours, not exactly kissing you but not, not kissing you either. “Yeah…for the drawin’.” He whispered against your lips, taking them with his. He kissed you like he’s been waiting for this moment since he’s known you. Kissed you like he needed this, kiss you in a way that said “if you stop, I’ll die.”

He can't help the way his hands wander, touching you in places he'd never even dreamt of touching in the first place as his hands grow more greedy. His hands trail everywhere, feeling your skin grow warm under his touch as he commits every brush of skin against skin.

You could feel a heat pool between your legs, your pussy ached and your dick throbbed to attention with each inch gained by Hobie’s fingers closer to your wanton core. You spread your legs for him, silent permission for him to touch where he pleased and where you craved.

Hobie did not touch you there, not yet. His hand held your waist and his lips began to trace a trail down the side of your neck, placing sloppy, open mouth kisses on your exposed flesh leading down to your chest. He peppered kisses along the crescents of your scars, worshiping exactly where they cut into you and made you a little more of who you are.

His lips pressed kisses down your naval. His hand gripped yours tighter. “Lay back, luv.” His free hand pushed you back gently, coaching you to lie in the mess of pillows stained with his scent. Hobie held your smaller hand, pressing it into the mattress, his free hand still roaming and touching and studying your warm body.

How could he possibly go back to pencil and paper after this? His drawings could never satisfy him now that he’s gotten a taste of the real thing. His art was meaningless now, served no purpose now that your flesh was beneath his tongue, in his hands, gripping, touching, loving.

He’s come on your face a thousand times over in his mind, on his page. But he could not bear the idea of sullying your sacred body with such degeneracy. Hobie would only touch, only please. He would come last.

He settled himself between your legs, his hand parting them a little further until your pretty, wet lips parted with a nice, creamy sound. You turned your head away, embarrassed but Hobie found it quite lovely. You are hard and wet for him, your sweet, little cock firm behind the hood.

Hobie kissed your pelvis just above your t-dick, ending his journey to where you desired him the most. He glanced up at you and found your eyes cast away with what could only read as humiliation.

“C’mon, dove, look a’ me.” He kissed the tip of your dick and smiled as you shuddered with something of a pathetic moan. You willed yourself to look at him with timid eyes. Hobie kissed your tip again, his fingers pulling back your hood to give him more space to work. His tongue licked firm strokes between your soaked lips all the way up to your pretty cock which he licks then takes into his mouth.

He sucked on the engorged bundle of nerves, swollen and sensitive on his tongue. Hobie worships the way you cry a little, your back arching from the sheets, his tongue stroking lick after lick against the tip, each one sending jolts of pleasure throughout your heated body.

You placed one of your hands on the back of his head, not applying pressure but to give him a few encouraging scratches to his scalp. “Just like that, keep going.” Your body shows all its cards and you couldn't care in the slightest. Breathless moans and soft whimpers keep him going, keeps him sucking your pretty dick with his tongue occasionally lapping at your sweet little hole.

Hobie used his fingers to stroke between your pussy lips where you ached the most. It was easy to ease a finger in with how utterly soaked you were and with a few slow pumps, the second finger was not too far behind.

He took his time with you, unraveling you like a gift splayed out before him. He could rush, he could take what he needed but he wanted this to be slow, intimate. He needed to tell you just how much he worshiped his body of yours, how much he valued every piece of flesh you offered up to him. He needed to study you, inside and out.

Your hushed moans were beautiful and the whines the broke out between them were just the same. “My lil’ muse.” He hummed against your cock, kissing it and the flesh around it in an act of praise. His fingers worked in and out of you, curled in search of that gummy little ridge that would send you into orbit and make this all the better for you.

He knew he found it when you let out a nice, little, high-pitched moan and your whole body lept. Hobie chuckled softly, much to your dismay and rubbed you at your sweet spot right where you needed him.

“Why– fuck~ why are you always…so mean. L-laughing at me ‘n all.” You pant out, hips bucking against his soaked fingers, all your pretty, little parts rubbing against his knuckles.

“On the contrary, I think ‘m bein’ rather nice, don' you?” He kissed your belly, slowly making his way back up your body to find your lips again. “I only wanna be sweet wit’cha, luv.” His lips pecked yours once, twice, before he kissed you fully again. His fingers thrust into you, his thumb playing with your dick to keep you nice and stimulated. “You don't think ‘m bein’ sweet?”

You shook your head and he pressed his fingers into your sweet spot to make you gasp. “I-I think you’re the meanest person I know, Hobes.” You wrapped an arm around his neck to pull him in, your lips still stealing kisses from one another. “I think you’re mean peck ‘cause peck it’s your fingers inside me and not peck you.”

“I can change tha’. I can be so nice t’ya.”

You’re lucky he’s in his pajamas and not his entire getup. It’s easy to get him to pull himself out of his pants enough to reveal his length to you. He’s thick and long, nothing to make a passing statement at. He slips his fingers from your eager cunt and uses them to drag along the tip of his cock, spreading it down his length with a few sloppy strokes against his palm.

Hobie pulled you closer. You settled back against his pillows, whining a little when Hobie pulled his hand away from yours to brace himself against you. You toss your arms over his shoulders and around his neck. Your gaze is a bit more confident looking into his and Hobie kisses you softly.

You're dripping, trembling as he drags the tip of his thick cock between your soaked lips. He teased you, pressing the tip into your sopping entrance before pulling away. It coats him, your wetness, making it easier for him to slowly inch his way inside. He stretches you slowly and your nails sink into his back. You bury your face into his neck, muffling your moans.

His hands caress your body, holding you tight as if he craved that same warmth from you as well. His hips pressed flush against yours, his cock buried deep within you. He lets you adjust while he familiarizes himself with your tight cavern. Your walls hug him, imprinting every vein, every groove of him. Soft and welcoming like you've been waiting to invite him in since forever.

You two stare at each other, the warmth of one’s breath breezing over the other's supple skin. "Move." You encourage, nudging your nose against his. His hands tightened on your waist as he pulled his hips back until only the tip remained inside before surging them forward. He liked being soft with you, liked touching you like you were one of his drawings, like you would smudge if he pressed too hard.

You didn't mind slow or careful. It made you feel all that more special, like you were worth taking up that time where he could be doing other things. He kept his strokes paced, gentle. The soft slapping of skin mingles with your moans that fill the room.

"Hobie~" You claw at his back, leaving your mark on him in bright red lines that cover his skin. His cock filled you to the brim, pressing every point of pleasure along the way to his tip kissing your cervix. Hobie’s size was nothing to laugh at. He touched places never before discovered, his hips rutting into yours in firm, paced strokes.

He pressed his against the side of your head. Your shampoo was nice, lavender and vanilla he supposed. Hobie made a mental note to write that down in his sketchbook with all his other notes about you.

Hobie smelled like subtle cologne and natural musk. It's comforting, not overwhelming or violently invading your nose. You kiss his neck, along his sharp jaw, and over his prominent Adams Apple. Your teeth nip softly over his supple flesh, easily able to leave hickeys on his skin, smooth as paper.

Your moans are like music to his ears. High-pitched and uneven. With each thrust, he's rewarded with such a beautiful sound. You chew on your bottom lip in attempt to contain them but he doesn't like it. "Uh-uh, I wanna hear you. Don't deny me such a beautiful sound." He reaches up and pulls your lip from your teeth with his own. A spark.

Hobie took your hand with his much larger one and laced your fingers with his like before. He pinned your hand to the bed, rubbing off graphite onto your skin, his mark on you, his love on you. “Am I nice enough now?”

You nod, “so nice~”. You sighed out, pulling him in and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “So good.” You murmured against his skin, sucking on that piece of flesh to calm yourself. His strokes were deep, solid, unquestionable in his dedication to his craft.

He kisses your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, then your lips, a innocent little kiss that belies the way he’s fucking you right now, his pelvis rubbing your dick with every roll of his hips.

His hand touches the side of your face, skimming it, holding it, worshiping it as if he were drawing. Your eyes fluttered softly, your lips parted to let out a shaky breath and your eyes admire him the way he admires you, like an artist looking at its masterpiece.

Hobie’s hand trails down the length of your body and reaches between your bodies to touch your dick. He strokes it between his fingers, smirking at the way you cry into the bend of his neck and take the time to bite. You sink your teeth into smooth muscle, tongue lavishing over smoother skin. You’ll undoubtedly lean your mark and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You were so sweet too, so sweet to tell him before you came in short, fast pants. You begged in soft “please”s for him to keep going. “Jus’ like that.” Your legs hooked over his slender hips to keep him in close.

Your mind went hazy with the rush of your climax, your body tensed and rolled with the waves of it. That pretty pussy of your clamped down around Hobie’s full cock, stroking him in beautiful subtly pulses that coaxed him towards his own orgasm.

“Ya wan’ me to cum wit’cha, pretty boy?”

You nod and whine, nails sinking into the back of his neck. Your legs tuck in and pull his hips closer and oh those silky walls of your milked him so nice and thoroughly he couldn't help but to cum.

Hobie didn't mean to cum inside, didn't mean to sully your body with his spunk. He didn't want to ruin you, ruin the temple of your body but God, he couldn't help it and you weren't letting him move.

And oh, he didn't mean to get so sappy, didn't mean to lift your intertwined hands and kiss the back of yours as he came deep inside, hot cum rushing to fill you to the brim. He sighed with pleasure and contentment and looked you in the eyes. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, luv. My lil’ muse.”

He rolled over with you still holding on to him, slipping from his little sanctuary between your legs with a wet pop. He readjusted himself, made himself decent before kissing you on the head.

God, what would this mean for your friendship? Would this become a regular thing? Did this make you something more. You were too afraid to say anything in fear of ruining the quiet serenity of the moment.

“You got what you need for your drawing?” You ask innocently, as if he did all of this for some damn drawing. Hobie scoffed against your scalp and pulled away to look at you. “Yeah, but ‘m no’ in the mood to draw anymore. Jus’ lemme hold’ja, yeah, dove?”

You could let him do that.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown fic #hobie fanfic #atsv hobie #astv hobie smut #hobie smut #hobie x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x transmasc!reader #hobie brown x ftm!reader

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here2bbtstrash · 1 year

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sunday (explicit)

genre: straight-up smut baybey, i did it y'all i wrote a pwp again

pairing: seokjin x reader

summary: you got your boyfriend exactly what he wanted for his birthday.

word count: 5k

contains: explicit sexual content~*~ say it with me: BRAT 👏 TAMER 👏 SEOKJIN 👏 established relationship, reader is uhhh 😬 Extremely bratty lmao, jin takes care of that, BDSM dynamics (mention of safewords and hand signals but neither are used!), reader gets spanked with a belt oop 🤭, fingering/a lil bit of eating it from the back, orgasm denial, big dick jin 😏, praise kink, mouth/throat fucking, a bit of breathplay, begging and apologizing, oh yeah she cries... like.... kind of a lot 🥲 there's a dacryphilia moment in there too (~*~add a little spice~*~), unprotected sex but they're in love it's fine, lots of subspace at the end, use of a vibrator, overstimulation, she comes.... idek how many times, and a smidge of aftercare 🫠 also i promise there's no food play, you'll get why the cake's there at the end ok lmao

A/N: a day late and a dollar short but hey that's my mental health rn 🫡 this was fun!!! always nice to dust off the ol' pwp muscles and frankly i've been itching to write proper BDSM for a bit now. sometimes you just wanna get the shit beat out of you lovingly and that's valid and sexy ya know. anyway feel free to silently skip this one if it's not for you!! and i know i'm gonna get a comment on it so 🙄 i used his korean age on purpose lmao 🙄 yes i can count and yes i know their system is changing~ ANYWAY i sincerely hope you enjoy babes and that you all had a lovely seokjin day 🥺 i loooove y'all !!! 💜

thank you to @haliiimede for beta reading and being my soulmate 🥺

read on AO3!

~*~

The slam of the front door tells you that your plan for today has worked perfectly.

Standing in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, you adjust a final strap on your bralette, then quickly scramble to pull your clothes back on. You attempt to keep your expression innocent as you slip down the hallway to greet your boyfriend.

Before you can even make it, you hear the unmistakable pop of a wine bottle being uncorked, and you enter the kitchen just in time to see Seokjin leaning up against the counter with a glass of white in hand. He doesn’t look particularly pleased to see you.

“Hi baby,” you say, sweet as can be. “Can I have a glass?”

A muscle works in his jaw as he looks you over, and the expression on his face already has a flame licking in the pit of your stomach.

“That's all you have to say?” he finally answers.

You blink up at him, feigning ignorance. Your heartbeat has started to race behind your ribs, sensing imminent danger— the good kind.

“I haven't heard from you all day today,” he tries again.

You shrug. “I was still sleeping when you left this morning, and then, I don't know. I was doing things. Does it matter?” If Seokjin wasn’t already pissed, you know your last question will get him. You turn away to busy yourself with retrieving a wine glass so he can’t see the smile you’re trying to bite back.

The tone of his voice makes you freeze, glass in hand. “I don't recall saying you could have any.”

Your lower lip juts out automatically, and you do your best to steady your breathing without making it apparent. Even your voice comes out a little shaky. “But we always share.”

The silence in the kitchen feels deafening, punctuated by the soft tap of Seokjin setting his glass on the counter. You mirror him, swallowing hard as he steps in to close the distance between you. It never gets any less exciting to have him tower over you, big and broad-shouldered, tall enough that you have to look up through your lashes to meet his gaze. A dull ache starts to pulse between your legs.

“Do you know what today is?”

You lick your lips and try to speak. “Sunday?”

It’s like you barely get the word out before he’s gripping your jaw with one large hand, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. Anticipation buzzes through your body, all the way down to your toes, as he forces your chin up.

“Anything else?” His voice sounds like a warning.

Your mouth pulls into a grin beneath his grasp, one you can’t quite manage to keep innocent. “Oh, Seokjin, is it your birthday? I knew I was forgetting something. Oops.”

“Fucking brat.”

All at once Seokjin locks an arm around your hips, and you let out a shrill squeak as your feet leave the floor entirely when he outright slings you over his shoulder. This is, of course, exactly what you’d hoped for, but you struggle a little in his grip nonetheless. All part of the fun.

You’d left the bedroom door cracked on your way out to greet him, and he takes the opportunity to kick it back open. A shiver runs up your spine at the sight, and then you hit the bed hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs.

You push up onto your hands as you sit up, slightly dizzy.

“That hurt, Seokjin,” you whine, but you both know you don’t mean it. You have agreed-upon methods of telling him when he’s really hurting you in a way that doesn’t feel good: safewords, even hand signals for when you’re rendered non-verbal. Anything said that isn’t one of those is just you running your mouth on purpose, winding him up. Like now. “You’re being so dramatic.”

“And you’ve got a fucking attitude today,” he snaps. “Is this really how you want to do this? On my fucking birthday?”

You blink up at him with the same sweet smile. “What if I told you I got you a present?”

This seems to surprise him a little, and he pauses, like he doesn’t quite buy it. “A present, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” You nod as you get to your feet. “Let me unwrap it for you.”

Taking your time with it, you peel off your sweatshirt and leggings to reveal the lingerie you pulled on as he was coming home. It’s a soft pink set with a floral design, thin straps, and romantic lace, and you happen to think it does wonders for your curves.

“What do you think?”

You can see the hungry gleam in Seokjin's eyes even as he scoffs, feigning disinterest. “Oh, this is my present? A disrespectful brat that I have to teach a lesson? I should rip this shit off.”

“Hey, this was expensive!” you snap, and he arches an eyebrow as if to give you a final chance to behave. It just makes you want to push him that much further.

You step closer, allowing a perfect line of sight to your tits that threaten to spill out of their confinements, and you soften your voice when you speak again. “What, you don’t forgive me, Seokjin?”

The corner of his mouth just barely ticks up. “You know the rules. Forgiveness is earned.”

He reaches a hand down to undo the buckle of his belt, and your nipples are suddenly painfully hard against the lace fabric. You can’t remember the last time he used his belt. Fuck, he’s really mad.

“Bend over.”

You huff a sigh as you drape yourself over the edge of the bed, and his hands are already on your ass. He makes a low noise of appreciation as his fingertips dig into your supple skin, pressing firm enough to make you wince. He's not being gentle, and you don’t want him to be.

Your eyes flutter closed in enjoyment of being manhandled like this, and you get so lost in it that it takes you a second to realize Seokjin has asked you a question. By then it’s already too late.

He gives a warning slap to your ass as he repeats himself. “I said, how old am I?”

You peek over your shoulder, wiggling your ass against the flat of his palm, only for him to smack you hard over your left cheek. You bite back a whimper, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“I don't know,” you lie, blinking up at him. “You’re so old now, it’s hard to remember.”

In one swift move, he yanks his belt out from around his waist, and you swallow hard as you watch him fold it over in his hands.

“Then why don’t you fucking count for me.”

The belt cracks down over your ass, and you flinch at the first real rush of pain. It takes you a second to regain focus, your brain still buzzing from the hit, and then his words come back to you.

“One.”

“So you are capable of listening, huh?”

Another hit, equally as hard on the other side, and you grit your teeth.

“Two.”

“Aw, where’d that smart mouth go? Not so chatty now?” Seokjin cracks the belt again, and you can barely get the word three out before four is being delivered just as harshly. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to breathe. He's really hitting hard tonight.

“Four,” you gasp, and you hear Seokjin exhale a dark laugh above you.

“Better toughen up, sweetheart. We’ve got a long way to go.” Another hit in the same spot, this one enough to really sting.

“Five.”

“You know, since I'm so old.”

The next blow he delivers is so hard, the word comes out as a cry of pain. “Six!”

You flatten your pelvis down against the sheets, as if in an attempt to hide from the beating, but there’s nowhere to go. The extra pressure makes you feel how hard your clit has started to throb from your punishment. You bury your face in the crook of your elbow, your hips jerking reflexively as you moan through seven, eight, nine.

Every muscle in your body seizes taut as you prepare for ten, trying to encourage yourself to breathe through it, though all you can get out right now are shallow gasps for air. I can take this, you tell yourself, I can take this.

But it doesn’t come. You’re pulled so tight you think you might snap, and you manage to lift your head up from your arms to look back at Seokjin.

“There she is,” he says, and the soft tone of his voice in no way influences how hard he brings the belt down over your ass.

“Ten!” you groan, and the sharp bite of pain over your already raw skin nearly brings tears to your eyes. And he’s not even halfway done.

It’s all you can do now to remember what number you’re on, especially as Seokjin continues to allow torturously long pauses between his hits. He'll wait just long enough that your heartbeat starts to slow, teasing the thin length of the belt up the backs of your thighs, sometimes even with a laugh.

But it’s not relief: the waiting keeps every inch of you on edge, all wound up with anticipation of the next dose of pain, so tense you’re not sure you’re breathing.

You’ve hardly choked out fourteen when you flinch at a brush of contact, the warm touch of skin where you were expecting the crack of leather. Letting your forehead drop against the bed, you pant like you’ve just run a marathon as Seokjin's hand moves over your abused flesh, groping and massaging as he did before. You can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours since then, but his touch is grounding, calming, even when his fingers sink into your fresh bruises with enough force to make you whimper.

You can feel the way the seam of your panties sticks to your center now, and you can only imagine that they must be entirely soaked through, your slickness already starting to paint the crux of your thighs. With a soft whine of need, you spread your legs a little wider in search of anything but more pain.

“What do you think?” Seokjin's voice is dark when he speaks, thick with lust. The thought of him straining hard against his pants has you practically drooling on the mattress. You want nothing more than that cock stretching you open right now. “Starting to learn your lesson?”

As much as the rational part of you appreciates the check-in, you can’t ignore the new rush of rebellion that surges up at the question. What, does he think you need him to go easy? Does he think you’re not tough enough, that you can’t take everything he’s willing to give you?

You push up to look over your shoulder at him again, your jaw set firm. “No.”

Anger flashes over his face, but he can’t quite hide his smile. “Then I guess I can stop holding back.”

Shit, he was—? You don’t get the opportunity to finish that thought before the loop of his belt is whizzing through the air, and the impact it makes against your ass hits so hard, you momentarily see stars. “Fuck!”

“That's not a fucking number.”

“Fifteen,” you gasp, dropping limp against the bed like a ragdoll, breathless with relief that you didn’t lose track. “Fifteen.”

“The brat can count,” Seokjin remarks, and then he delivers sixteen just as hard and your whole body spasms from the pain as you choke out the number. “If only you knew how old I was, you might have some idea of how much longer I have to beat your ass.”

Your eyes are really starting to well up now, but you force yourself to keep breathing, to focus on his words. It might be coded to fit the scene, but it’s a clear reminder nonetheless: you’re more than halfway. You can do this.

By twenty, the tears have started to spill down your face, but Seokjin knows you well enough to know the scene doesn’t stop unless you call a safeword. He trusts you to know your own limits, and you do. But fuck, he can really test them sometimes. You’re dying for him to touch you, fuck you, do anything but keep fucking beating you. It’s taking everything in you to keep going, your feet kicking helplessly each time he brings the belt down over your tender backside. He hasn’t lightened the weight of his hits up even in the slightest. If anything, they’re only getting worse.

“Twenty-one,” you breathe. You only have ten hits left, and you’ve already gotten through ten hits twice now. You can do this.

“Twenty-two.” You tell yourself not to fight it.

“Twenty-three.” Just give into the pain.

“Twenty-four.” Submit.

Your shoulders heave with sobs as the twenty-fifth strike finally, finally breaks your last resolve. You press your face into the mattress; you’re crying so hard you can scarcely breathe. Even though your body keeps flinching with the reflexive animal reaction to try and get away from the pain, your mind has fully accepted your punishment, all the fight gone out of you.

It’s like someone else is counting for you now, so much so that you don’t even realize what number Seokjin is on until the words leave your mouth.

“Thirty-one.”

You hear the jingle and thud of the belt hitting the floor, and then his gentle hands are encouraging your legs to spread apart. The brush of his fingers over your aching core is sweet, overwhelming relief from the pain still coursing through your system. You’d think it’d be enough to make you cry, if you weren’t already.

“Good girl,” he says softly, and that small praise alone has you floating straight up to the ceiling.

His hands move quickly to pull your panties down and off, and you work to get your breathing back under control, letting your sobs dissolve into sniffling gulps. You whimper when his palms slip under your hips, encouraging you up onto your knees. Your body shivers all over as you try to hold yourself up, to be good, and then you feel Seokjin slip two fingers into your drenched center.

“Oh my god,” you groan as he starts to rub diligently at the ridges of your front wall, his free hand gripping your ass to spread you open. His touch in both places at once, pressing down on fresh swollen bruises and curling up into the sweetest part of you, it’s so good. It reminds you why you willingly give yourself over to this man, the one you love so much, the only one who can make you feel like this. You’re so turned on from the mix of pleasure and pain, you might be close to blacking out.

The bed creaks as he shifts a little, and then he replaces his fingers with his mouth, and you keen. You bury your sounds in the crook of your elbow as his tongue plunges into you, and he snakes a hand between your legs to rub slow circles over your clit. Your mind is reeling; you can barely manage to speak.

“S-Seokjin,” you gasp. “You’re g-gonna, ngh, gonna make me—”

He pulls off just enough to mutter, “You better fucking ask first.”

You swear he ups the intensity on purpose when his mouth returns to your pussy, as if to drag you that much closer to the edge. His thumb is working so perfectly at your clit, you can feel your thighs starting to shake as you writhe back against him. “Can I— can I please come, Seokjin? Pleaseplease, please?”

“No.”

His voice is firm, unbothered, and paired with the painful loss of his touch all at once. A strangled sob of frustration escapes you as you collapse against the bed, exhausted from holding yourself up and from your denied release.

“Not yet,” Seokjin continues. “Not until you’ve learned to be a little more obedient.”

His strong hand closes over your bicep, and he easily flips you over onto your back, causing you to hiss at the graze of your sore flesh against the sheets. Your lower lip trembles, your eyes threatening tears as you stare up at him, but you stay quiet.

“Be a good girl,” Seokjin says, dragging one finger up the column of your throat. You willingly tip your head back for him as a shiver rolls through you. “Let me fuck this smart mouth, then I’ll make you come as many times as you can handle. Okay?”

When you nod softly, he hauls you up to your feet. “Get on your knees.”

You do as he says, sitting back on your heels and watching as he works his pants and boxers down to free his cock. He’s thick and long, flushed dark and dripping hard. Big enough that you go slightly cross-eyed trying to take him in. Your cunt clenches desperately at his size, at how badly you need all of him inside you, bottoming out into you again and again.

But even moreso, you want to be good.

“Mouth open,” Seokjin instructs, and you comply, letting your tongue loll out for him as he tangles a hand in your hair.

He guides himself between your lips, and your eyes roll back at the weight of him on your tongue, the feeling of your jaw stretching open to fit him. He’s so fucking big, it’s uncomfortable, but you do your best to breathe around him and give into it.

Trying to hold still, hands placed sweetly on your thighs because you know he likes it that way, you blink up at Seokjin as he starts to thrust into your mouth. You can taste the salt of his precum as his length drags along your tongue, and you fight back the urge to gag when the tip of his cock nudges into the back wall of your throat. He groans softly as he rubs himself there, his grip on your hair tightening until the pain stings your scalp. Your eyes start to water as you try to keep yourself from choking.

“Fuck,” he hisses when he pulls out, saliva stringing in thick strands from your mouth to the head of his cock. He squeezes at the base of it, eyes glazed dark with lust, and you take in as much air as you can, the cool rush painful where your throat is sore from the stretch of him.

You sit up taller as if to ask for more.

Seokjin’s gaze meets yours as the hand on his cock guides it back toward you, but he doesn’t slip back into your mouth. His eyes are fixated hungrily on your face as he drags the head of his dick down over your bottom lip, teasing it around your mouth and along your cheeks, clearly enjoying that he can do whatever he wants with you.

Your pulse drums loudly in your ears as you sit there, mouth open, and take it. The whole lower half of your face must be slick with spit and precum now, given how easily he glides across your skin, and then you’re hit with the heavy thud of him smacking his cock once, twice, three times against your flat, willing tongue.

“Are you done being a brat now?” he prompts, and you can feel drool spilling down your chin as you nod, his cock still weighing heavy on your outstretched tongue. He slips it in a little further, just past the ring of your lips.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?”

A soft whine escapes around his girth filling your mouth. You nod again, desperate, and then he hits the back of your throat with enough force to make you gag noisily. Your body shudders beneath him, and you try to keep it together.

“Learned your fucking lesson?”

Tears start to sting at the corners of your eyes as he keeps sliding himself into your mouth, the head of his cock dipping down into the tight clutch of your throat, as far as he can go until your nose is flush with his abdomen. You can’t make another sound, your mouth crammed too full, but you do your best to nod even as you lose the ability to keep breathing.

Seokjin’s thumb brushes over the bulge in your throat, and you know what he wants. Tears slip down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut and swallow around him, and he rewards you with an unabashed moan that lights up everything inside you.

“That’s it. You look so good when you cry on my cock,” he rasps, his hand closing over your throat as you swallow again.

You can feel yourself starting to get light headed from lack of oxygen as more tears stream down your face, but the praise spurs you on. You want it too much, it makes you eager to please at any cost, despite the dizzying surge of adrenaline, despite the way your throat is spasming painfully now. You’ll pass out with his cock down your throat, if that’s what it takes.

He pulls out all at once, and the rush of air you heave in is like broken glass against your raw throat. You fall forward, your palms just barely catching you from landing directly onto your face, and you can’t do anything for a moment but breathe in ragged, shaky gasps. Tears are still welling up in your eyes, dripping down onto the carpet beneath you.

Your world tilts as Seokjin easily scoops you up in his arms just to drop you onto the bed, flat on your back. There’s still the dull ache of the bruises he beat into your ass, but it’s like someone’s turned the volume down on it. All your physical sensations seem distant, like they’re happening to someone else, even the dull ache thudding between your legs, a desperate desire to come that was only made worse by being used as your boyfriend’s fucktoy.

Your eyes flutter closed as his hands slip up your body to undo your lacy bralette and peel it off of you, and you don’t fight it.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Seokjin's voice pulls you back from the edge, and you fight to open your eyes again. He's hovering over you, fully stripped now, his brow creased slightly with concern. “Stay with me a little bit longer, okay?” His tone is still serious, and you sniff softly as you nod.

He slips a palm encouragingly under your thigh and you do the rest, so out of body that it’s like you weigh nothing at all as you pull your knees up to effectively bend yourself in half for him. He practically growls at the sight of you spread for him so willingly, presenting a cunt swollen with need, painted glossy with arousal.

You watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he kneels up on the bed, and then his thick cock is grinding over you, dragged right up your center. The feeling of finally being touched where you need it most has you exhaling a moan of relief.

“Is this what you want?” Seokjin's breath is hot on your neck and chased by the scrape of his teeth, earning another noise of pleasure from you. Your clit throbs as he rolls the head of his dick over it, up and down, slow teasing.

“Yes,” you manage to gasp. Your voice comes out a little broken from your scraped-up throat. “Yes, please. Please fuck me, please, want it so bad.”

“Which do you want more?”

You’re so gone, choking on whimpers and whines, that his hand closes over your throat to make you focus on the rest of his question. The look on his face is so dark, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“My dick, or my forgiveness?”

Tears spring to your eyes immediately as an overwhelming wave of emotions floods through you. There isn’t a doubt in your mind what your answer is, you don’t even have to pause to consider it. As badly as you want, need him to fuck you, the thought of Seokjin discarding you when he’s finished, still upset, not kissing every inch of your skin, not praising you for being so good… you can’t bear it.

“Your forgiveness,” you sob, doing your best to keep breathing despite his hand around your throat. “Please, please, please forgive me. I'm so sorry. I just wanna be good, wanna be good for you, I don't need anything else.”

You can see his face soften even through the tears that blur your vision. “There she is,” he murmurs, and then he tips his head down to brush his lips over yours. The warm touch of his mouth is all the reward you could ever ask for, and he sucks sweetly on your bottom lip before pulling back.

“Good answer, babygirl.”

Before you can even process what’s happening, he’s fucking the whole of his thick cock into you, and you can only keen as he stretches you wide enough to fit all of him. Your walls are immediately trembling tight to him from how edged close you’ve been all night.

“Thank you,” you moan, your head dropping back against the pillow. A gasp rips through you as he bottoms out, your spine arching when the crown of his cock presses firmly on your cervix. “Thank you, oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin purrs, his mouth against your collarbone. You think he might be sucking a mark into your skin, but it’s already getting hard to tell what’s happening. “You always take it so well after I beat the brat out of you. Let go now, baby. You’ve earned it.”

You’re grateful for the permission, because you’re not sure you could stay tethered any longer if you tried. Not when he’s splitting you open, thrusting hard and deep because he knows you can take it, with a cock fat enough to light up every sweet spot in you at once. Your eyes roll back as you start to float, so out of it that you barely even notice a faint buzzing sound until you realize Seokjin is pressing your vibrator down against your swollen, aching clit.

Fuck, when did he even grab it off the nightstand?

You’re vaguely aware of someone moaning, but it doesn’t even feel like you. You’ve given up entirely to it now, a sweet surrender to this all-encompassing pleasure. It’s so good, too good, it slips you out of your mind and body alike, like he’s fucking your brain right out of your skull.

“That’s it, come on my cock,” Seokjin groans, and fuck, you are, you’re coming hard enough to drench his cock with every pulse of your needy cunt. “Such a good girl.”

He doesn't even pull the toy off to give you a moment of recovery, just keeps it nestled between your folds as he pounds into you. Your hips shudder violently as you coast out of your first climax and straight into another one.

It all starts to blur together now, wave after wave of orgasm washing over you until you’re drowning in it. You come and come and come until it feels like you’re melting into the bed, pinned through by this massive cock and the endless mind-numbing buzz on your clit. You can distantly tell that you’ve soaked a wet spot into the sheets beneath you, that your thighs and even the muscles of your ass are shaking from overstimulation.

“S-S-Seokjin.” It takes you three tries to get his name out, and you’re still not really sure if you said it until the toy switches off. The humming sensation is still reverberating through your body even in the absence of it, enough to make you tremble all over as he picks up the pace.

“Gonna fucking— fill you up,” Seokjin grunts, voice thick with effort, and then his cock twitches at the very back of you, buried deep as it can go, pulsing heavy as he paints you with rope after rope of his release.

You’re still not here, not really, not when he pulls out with a heavy sigh, when the cum starts to drool down your legs, when he drops onto the mattress beside you and pulls you into him. It comes back to you in pieces: you’re shivering all over, breathing hard, your face is wet— fuck, when were you crying?

It takes you several moments to realize Seokjin is murmuring in your ear, that his fingers are carding through your hair, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Just breathe, baby. Did so well, it’s over now. You’re safe.”

As the post-scene comedown settles into your bones, you bury your face into his shoulder, trying to breathe through the myriad of emotions and chemicals flooding your system. He pulls the blanket up over your chest, and the warmth of it and his body help to gently bring you down from the high.

You don’t know how long you lay like that until you finally manage to squeak out a question. “Y-you’re not really mad, right?”

Seokjin laughs gently as he presses a kiss to your hairline. “No, baby. I know you didn’t really forget. The birthday cake in the fridge kinda gave it away.”

The words take a second to hit you, and then a dazed giggle bubbles up in your chest. It’s like you’re floating as you start to laugh, your face still pressed into Seokjin’s skin, and you can feel the rumble of him laughing too. It didn’t even occur to you that he would’ve seen the fucking cake when he grabbed himself a bottle of wine.

“Oh,” is all you can think to say, and you keep giggling as his lips move over the line of your jaw, trailing kisses.

“You’re cute when you’re trying to get punished,” he says softly. “It's part of why I love you. You’re my perfect little brat. And this was the perfect gift, seriously.”

A warm glow blooms in your chest at the praise, and you sigh happily as you curl up against his side. “Can we eat cake in bed?”

Seokjin leans down to brush his mouth over yours, sweetly adoring. “Anything you want.”

#seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #seokjin x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #💜 happy seokjin day 💜

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