#(or maybe he drags out enough creativity to make one up) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bratzforchris · 3 months

Text

Tumblr Girls, M. Sturniolo

Summary: Matt can't help but to visit his favorite fuck buddy on tour, who just can't help but to tease him with her Tumblr posts. Songfic loosely based off of "Tumblr Girls" by G-Eazy<3

Pairing: Matt x feminine and influencer!reader

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, marking, bondage, friends with benefits, fingering, oral (f), dom!Matt, choking, intoxicated sex (alcohol), dirty talk, belly bulge, no aftercare but fluffish (?) ending (i do not condone any of this irl!! it is *fiction*)

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Get your holy water ready girlies...

Ever since you were a little girl, you had been enamored by the idea of being famous. Something about the life called to you, whether that be walking down the street and people knowing you, or simply realizing that you were having an impact on someone, somewhere’s life. Fortunately, you had grown up in the age of the Internet, allowing you to truly harness what you had wanted to do for so long. You loved having creative freedom, and you loved making a persona that was truly you.

You had been making YouTube videos, doing a variety of Instagram influencing, and posting carefully crafted aesthetic photos to Tumblr ever since middle school. Whereas a lot of the girls had moved out of their Tumblr influencer phase, you never really had. You still loved the dark, “grunge” aesthetic of it to this, and had turned your account into a more mature, X-rated theme of what it once had been. You loved doing social media as your full time job for a variety of reasons, from the freedom it gave you to the opportunities.

Perhaps your biggest “opportunity” was your fellow influencer and YouTuber, Matt. Your relationship with Matt was…complicated, to say the least. As much as you were a wholesome, loving duo on camera, you were filled with an almost primal need for each other off of it too. You and Matt had never discussed a true, established relationship, mostly because you were both so young and so busy, and the rough, hard fucking in itself was enough to satisfy the needs in both of your lives.

Your careers had consumed both of you as of late, dragging Matt all over the country for the Versus tour, and leaving you back in LA with a variety of brand deals to film and photo shoots to arrange. There was one in particular that you were heavily looking forward to, mostly because you knew that it would drag Matt back to you, unable to help himself. In a fateful turn of events, you had been emailed about a Calvin Klein intimates shoot that would just so happen to drop on the day Matt was back in LA for a show. In an effort to bring back the Tumblr renaissance and the hold Calvin Klein had had during those days, you had insisted that the photos be posted to Tumblr before any other social media platform.

Matt: i’m back in la tn

You: oh i know ;)

Matt: ??? huh

You: no reason. just focus on winning tonight :)

You smiled to yourself as you closed your text messages out and migrated over to your photo gallery. Your manager had sent you the photos of the shoot to be posted this evening, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t planning on fucking with Matt’s head using them. You had missed your fuck buddy, after all. The late night phone sex wasn’t the same as him in your bed, mumbling in your ear about how well you were taking it.

The photos from the shoot were of you in a gray Calvin Klein bralette with a matching thong. The photos had been toned with a sepia overlay, highlighting the curves of your breasts and hips. Your hair fell back against your shoulders gracefully as your doe eyes stared up at the camera. The shots were nothing short of sexy, making you imagine how Matt would react when he got the post notification. Maybe he would be sitting backstage, getting ready to go on and trying to hide his growing boner both from his brothers and the fans, which only made you smile more.

You and Matt continued to text back and forth for a while, until you suddenly stopped responding. This was part of your game with each other; to make the yearning so painful that it just made the sex more passionate. Once you saw that it had hit the fifteen minute mark until Matt was supposed to appear on stage, you hit ‘post’ on the Tumblr draft of your photos that you had planned out earlier in the day. The caption, come over 💋, was directly aimed at Matt, but no one else needed to know that. Sure enough, less than one minute later, you received a text from the brunette that had your heart racing and your thighs clenching.

Matt: what the fuck, y/n?

You smiled as you typed out your own message, imagining Matt biting his lip and trying to conceal the growing tent in his pants as he studied the photos.

You: what?

Matt: you know what

You: no i don’t

Matt: that fucking post

You: it’s part of my job, matt. quit being ridiculous. have you not heard about tumblr girls making a comeback?

Matt: watch it. i’m coming over and fucking that pretty pussy good tonight.

You knew what your and Matt’s usual routine was, so you grabbed another cup from the cabinet and the bottle of whiskey, migrating over to the gray couch in your living room. You didn’t bother waiting for the brunette to start drinking. Matt had a key to your apartment and would definitely make himself known when he arrived. You slowly sipped at the amber liquid, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks and in between your thighs as you thought about Matt and how much you had missed the feeling of his skin on yours.

Sure enough, the door swung open with a loud bang a few minutes later. In came Matt, hair disheveled and still in his blue Matthew jersey. His growing erection was obvious as he flopped onto the couch, lips immediately crashing into your own. Matt’s hands were all over you as you devoured each other; in your hair, running across your hips, grabbing your ass.

“Fuck, baby. I missed you.” he panted, leaning back against the couch as you passed him a drink.

“I missed you, Matt,” You smiled softly, tucking one of his curls behind his ear. “How has tour been?”

Matt took a large swig of whiskey, before placing the cup on the coffee table. “Good. But not as good as you looked in those goddamn pictures.” he practically moaned.

“I noticed you have my post notifications on,” You teased, despite blushing at his words. “Catching feelings, Matthew?”

Matt rubbed your bare thigh, scooting closer to you so that he could suckle on the sweet spot behind your ear. “Do you know how hard it was?” he asked, leaving a hickey. “To have to go out on stage with my brothers and act normal when all I could think about were your tits and how I want to pound that little cunt to pieces? Huh?”

You whined as Matt continued to trail hickeys down your neck, mumbling things like “missed you so bad” and “gonna fuck you so hard” after each one. You two fell back against the soft cushions of the couch, Matt holding you down by the hips as his lips caressed your neck, the curve of your collarbone, and the dip of your breasts. You went to reach for Matt’s ringed fingers, only for him to smack your hand away.

“No,” Matt said harshly, moving one hand from your hip to your throat. “Tell me how fuckin’ bad you want it first,” he growled, squeezing your throat just enough to make the air catch in your lungs. “Tell me you wanna get off on my fingers like a goddamn bitch in heat.”

You gasped for air as Matt continued to squeeze, your arousal thumping through your veins. “P…please,” You whispered, eyes wide with lust as he continued to choke you just enough to get you going, but not enough to actually hurt you. “Need your fingers.” You whined, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Good girl.” Matt hummed, alcohol hot on his breath as he moved his hands from your throat to practically rip your gray panties off.

With your friends with benefits arrangement, there was no time for gentle caressing or sweet nothings. Matt began to finger you roughly, the cool metal of his rings brushing against your slick folds as he rubbed his thumb across your clit at a dizzying pace. He wasn’t stopping there, either. Matt immediately thrust his middle and ring finger inside of you, pulling you closer to him. It had only been a few minutes, and the ache to orgasm was already building in your lower stomach.

“Matt,” You wailed, nails gripping his back. “Oh my god, Matt,” Tears began to roll down your face as the brunette continued to pleasure you. The combination of his fingers inside of you, the friction on your clit, and the added sensation of his rings were clouding everything in a lustful haze. “Need to cum.” You sobbed.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think you’re comin’ on my fingers instead of tongue.” he chuckled roughly.

With that, Matt threw his head down and forced your thighs apart, burying his face in your pussy. He began to devour you like you were the last meal on earth and he was a starving man. His tongue ran across your slit and clit, before licking your hole. You had no choice but to let out little squeals and whimpers as pleasurable sensations attacked you from all angles. Matt ran the flat of his tongue across your clit and you lost it, sobbing as your hands found his hair.

“Matt, please,” You begged. “‘M gonna cum.”

Your fuck buddy just nodded, still enjoying the taste of you on his tongue. You immediately took it as a sign to let go, releasing the tension that had been building in your stomach. You came all over Matt’s tongue, panting and breathing heavily as your body shook from the pure force of your orgasm. Matt pulled his head from between your thighs, licking his lips and fingers with a smirk, blue eyes hungrily grazing over your body that was still wrapped in the bra and flannel with your bare ass on display.

“You taste so goddamn good, you know that?” he asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you panted.

You smiled as Matt pressed a kiss to your pubic bone, but it was clear that the brunette wasn’t done yet. Matt slowly pulled the red and black material from your shoulders, smiling with more than just happiness. He had an intention and you could see it in the way he was toying with the fabric, eyes lighting up with lust. Matt didn’t speak again until he had removed your Calvin Klein bra, leaving you completely exposed on the couch as he stared down at you.

“Hands.” he said.

It was one word, but the command held an authoritative aire that had you thrusting your wrists to meet Matt’s own. Matt knew you better than practically anyone, which meant he knew all of your dirty little fantasies. Knowing you had a thing for bondage, the brunette quickly and expertly bound your wrists together in the flannel, giving it a tight tug to make sure it was secure. Your breath hitched at the pure filth of everything, but all you knew was that this alone was making your legs clench with need for another climax.

Matt was straddling you on the couch, fully clothed, which just added to the dominance he had over you. You were completely naked and covered in blooming hickeys he had left earlier in the evening with your wrists bound together by a flannel. You truly looked like Matt’s little cumslut, but you couldn’t find the decency in you to care anymore. You just knew that you were at his mercy and that you needed him. Now.

The brunette could sense your urgency and decided to have a little ‘fun’ with you. Matt took his time removing his shirt, allowing you to bask in the glory of him shirtless, all tanned skin and tattoos, but completely unable to do anything about it other than whimper and let out breathy moans. He moved onto his jeans next, painstakingly undoing his belt and throwing his pants to the side. The boy left his boxers on for the time being, teasing you as he stroked his cock through the plaid fabric.

“Wish that was you, huh? Strokin’ my dick and makin’ me feel good?” Matt chuckled, moaning when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

You whimpered and writhed against your bond. “Need you in me, Matt. Please.” You whined.

Finally, Matt slid his boxers off and tossed them to the side, allowing his erection to finally spring free. His dick was practically touching his stomach, making your mouth run dry with a mixture of excitement and nerves. After so long apart and without truly fucking, you had forgotten just how big he was. Matt climbed on top of you once more, rocking his hips back and forth on your own without actually riding you.

“Beg for it. Tell me how much you love my cock, baby girl.” Matt groaned at the friction of your skin against his own, becoming harder by the second.

“I need you inside me. Need your dick, Matt.” You whimpered, the teasing growing straight to your nipples and cunt, making you almost ache with arousal.

“That’s right. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Without another word, Matt slammed into you, making you take him to the hilt. You let out an involuntary scream at the feeling of suddenly being so full, your back arching against the couch cushions. The feeling of him inside you, bare and hard, was enough to push you to the brink of orgasm. Your second always came faster than your first, and right now was no exception. Matt was riding you at an ungodly pace, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust as he straddled you.

“Oh my god, baby,” Matt moaned loudly. “I missed your wet little pussy. So tight, just for me.”

The filthiness of his speaking, combined with your bonds and the feeling of him fucking you was pushing you over the edge. You wanted to tangle your hands in Matt’s hair or run your nails down his back, but instead you were unable to do anything that wasn’t taking his fucking like a slut. Matt pressed down on the bulge in your stomach from being balls deep, a smirk on his face.

“You feel that, baby? Feel you takin’ me like the cockslut you are?” he chuckled.

You whined as tears rolled down your face, bucking his hips up to meet his own. “Matt, I…I–need to, please.” You wailed, unable to form coherent sentences in your intoxicated and lustful state.

“You gonna cum? Gonna make me feel appreciated?” Matt’s blue eyes scanned your face, enjoying the view that was you under him, tied up and sobbing.

“Mhm!” You sobbed.

“Then prove it.” he sneered, pressing on your stomach roughly again.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You immediately let your climax take over, your cunt clenching against Matt’s cock. This caused the brunette to let out a string of curses as you came down from your high, your entire body shaking. He knew he was playing a risky game here, even though you were on the pill, but Matt just loved fucking you bare more than anything in the world. The brunette quickly pulled out, and before you knew it, your stomach was covered in thick and warm, white ropes of Matt’s cum.

He laid down beside you on the couch, panting heavily as you both came down from your shared highs. Once your breathing had returned to semi normal, Matt kissed you roughly and undid your bonds, before rolling off the couch. Without another word, he pulled his clothes on, straightening his hair. Your fuck buddy kissed your forehead as he busied himself around your apartment, cleaning up the whiskey and cups and retrieving a warm washcloth to wipe down your body with.

Once everything had been done, Matt tucked you in with a blanket, kissing your forehead. “I gotta go. We’re driving up to San Francisco tonight and I told Nick and Chris I would be back by two. I’ll see ya once the tour is over, yeah?”

You smiled sleepily as Matt slipped out your front door and into the night. Whereas you would’ve loved for the brunette to stay the night, you knew that you both had jobs to do and that right now, you were just fuck buddies and that was that. But as you drifted off to sleep, a warm feeling spread through your tummy that you and Matt wouldn’t stay “just friends” for long.

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @bunny-cotton @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @faygo-frog @oobleoob @runasvengence

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

1K notes · View notes

xazse · 1 month

Note

Hello! I'm a new reader and I fr love your writing, especially the scara x bunny girl!! Please need more🥺

Maybe when bunny girl got in heat while scaramouche is on a business trip. She kept touching herself but she can't cum. The best she can do probably is hump the stuffed toy scara got for her so she calls scara. However, scara kept on ranting about his day, making bunny needier so she continues her shenanigans while scara is talking. He catches her eventually and punishes her. You can be creative with it.

(I can't really depict scenarios I'm so sorry shshshshshh)

SCARAMOUCHE X BUNNYGIRL!READER

Notes: HI IM SORRY THIS IS SHORT I DIDNT WANT YOU TO THINK I WAS LIKE IGNORING YOU ITS JUST BEEN IVE BEEN IN A WRITING BLOCK SORTA 😭 I’m sorry I didn’t exactly follow the prompt I just wanted to get this out to you, again I’m extremely sorry for the lateness.

I’m so happy you love my writing and our cute bunny girl reader and scars

Pairings: Scaramouche x BunnyGirl!Reader

Tags: Humping, Scara being mean and bossy, just really filthy, hybrid!reader, Fem!Reader, NOT PROOFREAD

It’s been pure torture for you, your body feels like it’s constantly on fire and like you’re carrying a heavy weight as you go from room to room smelling various things Scara owns whilst he’s on his trip. He left you because the doctor assured that your heat wouldn’t come for at least another two weeks, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

The only things keeping you comforted and relieving your body is the stuffed animals that you insist stay on the bed when you and Scara are sleeping, he despises the things but keep them as to not upset you. So they things are filled with his scent, his lavender hair wash and woody smell lingers. You can’t help but inhale the scent in the plushies every so often.

You’ve already called him and told him about how it came earlier and the sneer that came upon his face did nothing but make you twitch, you know he’s enjoying how you’ve been suffering, he is ultimately getting off on the fact that you can’t have his cock to fill you up, it’s so frustrating but he looks so good while scolding you on how you did this on purpose, even though you literally can’t control when your heat decides to come.

One night you’re tossing and turning, when your heat finally hits you full on, moans slip from your lips as your clit throbs with need, you get a whiff of Scara again in the stuffed animal you’re currently whining into, and instantly your horny mind shifts to dirty thoughts, thoughts of his long cock battering your sensitive walls whilst he groans in your ear.

A few moments later you’re dragging your whole cunt against the poor stuffed animal, you feel bad but your hips won’t allow you to stop, won’t let you stop feeling that slight drum in your little clit. You reach your fingers down to add a little more stimulation to find your completely soaked. By now you should’ve cum, but you’re left whining into the pillows as you keep trying to hump away. His smell isn’t nearly enough your heady head deems.

You successfully managed to grab the phone and call Scara, already begging him to accept the face-call. He does and props his phone up so you can see him completely in his element, buried in paperwork with a scowl on his face, so pretty. He’s already ranting about how he hates this place and all the people in it, angry about the annoying escorts they keep sending to his room that he’s meant to fuck, he’s already said he wants nothing to do with them because they think he’ll eventually change his mind.

His eyes glide to the camera, seeing you flushed and naked? He can only see your face and shoulders.

“Are you clothed woman?” He says while closely inspecting the camera again.

Did he completely forget about the fact that you’re literally in heat?

He laughs a little and gets up, the lights in whatever room he’s in goes dark and you’re graced by his appearance again.

“What are you up to bunny?” He questions, you respond with a slight mumble under your breath but the mumble comes out too breathy. The only thing lighting up his face is the lamp by his side, it gives his skin a pretty golden gleam and that makes your cunt twitch.

“I’d forgotten about your little issue, m’sorry, do you want my help? Poor thing.” He’s doing that fake voice where it’s filled with concern but once again hes getting off on your suffering but that spurs you on too.

You hear some slight shuffling before the camera is moved downwards, where you can still see his face until his thick cock is seen, he’s fully hard: even from your conversation earlier he had been thinking and waiting for you to call him. He starts slow when he strokes himself, precise hands slide up and down while he maintains eye contact with you. You feel weird, a good weird.

“Nu, uh, bunny, don’t you dare, keep doing what you were doing before” he manages to get out inbetween stuttered breathing. He knows you were about to touch yourself using your fingers, but no he wants you to keep humping your stuffed animal.

“Won’t work, Kuni” you whine out, god he squeezes his tip, he loves when you get like this but he won’t tolerate you disobeying. “Do as I say” he gives no room for arguments with his sharp tone. Your ears deflate but you do as you’re told and start gliding your messy cunt back and forth. Scara seems pleased to see you further ruin yourself: you can see him start stroking himself faster, saying your name over and over through clenched teeth, calling you a good bunny for listening so well to him.

He tells you to show the mess you’ve made, you don’t protest as you shift to sit up and spread your legs in front of the camera, you really are dripping. He fantasizes about just how good you’ll feel wrapped around him, how he’s going to make you cum so many times on his fingers then you’ll be able to have his cock. Your fingers trail down, he’s about to scold you but you use your fingertips to pry your pussy so he can really get a full view.

Loud moans slip from his lips as his balls tighten hard, and he’s cumming with thick spurts. You don’t hear a few words but you do make out how he’ll be back shortly.

#genshin smut #zsworks #genshin x reader #fem reader #hybrid reader #wanderer smut #scaramouche x female reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer x female reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #scara smut #scaramouche smut #kunikuzushi smut #kunikuzushi x reader

587 notes · View notes

partycatty · 5 months

Text

i was sent an incredibly delicious prompt to use, and i just can't resist it omg. requester wanted to be anonymous, but just know i appreciate u! i won't lie, i ran into so many blocks trying to get this out. writing is hard :( i ended up taking a couple creative liberties anon i hope that's okay

bi-han > new tricks

johnny cage's girlfriend catches him cheating, so she tries to get back at him using bi-han. it's all fun and games, until something new starts to blossom.

warnings: u get cheated on, THIS IS NSFW, author struggles to write johnny in a bad light bc of their favoritism /j, accidental bottom bi-han

notes: i'm rubbing my hands together like a little fly rn, also bi-han's betrayal doesn't happen in this case, also also yes i made a gif of johnny getting his shit rocked for this fic thumbnail

masterlist <3

PART 2 !!!!

•you and johnny got together following the end of the storyline's events. he charmed you to holy hell and back with those dumb sunglasses and pickup lines at the academy. he was a sweetheart at first, love-bombing you endlessly until you accepted his thirtieth relationship proposal. deciding to stop dragging him along like a lost puppy, you finally said yes, and off you went to date a movie star!

•the change from being nobody to somebody was JARRING. suddenly, cameras were up your ass all the time, and you caught yourself staring out of your apartment window on multiple occasions to see people scurry away when they're spotted.

•even so, you can't lie. the parties that celebrities hold rival outworld's temptations. especially if johnny is hosting. despite downsizing from his mega mansion, his new home was still expansive enough to hold a large number of people. and boy did he take advantage of the space.

•everyone was a few drinks deep, you yourself were a little buzzed but with the intention of loosening up and socializing. johnny however, seems to have other intentions.

•johnny is canonically a recovering alcoholic. he'd indulge in a girly drink every now and then, maybe some whiskey on a really shitty day. but today, he must have combined the two flavors of vice and was now fitting his clothed dick into some random C-list actress's ass, grinding to the music. his sunglasses sloppily clung onto his nose and his face was flushed. drunk or not, he was dry humping some random broad at his own damn party, with you only a few feet away.

•you want to scream so bad, to tear her bleached blonde hair to the ground and beat her, and then johnny. but all you can do is stand there horrified, that is, until johnny looks up from his buried face in her neck and makes eye contact with you, eyes wide.

•"babe — goddamnit — babe!" johnny slurs out, holding your arms tight on his balcony. "it's not... fuck. it's just fun! it's a party! lighten up!"

•after a drunken back and forth, johnny eventually throws his hands in the air and tells you to fuck off because he can find better at that very party. although you heavily disagreed, the conversation abruptly ended when you slurred something back along the lines of "you want some other bitch? have 'em then!" officially ending your relationship and storming out of the party.

•the following few days were rough on your heart, and majority of the time your bed was occupied and loud sobs echoed across your walls. you could've had it all, dammit, and this dickhead just threw you away like nothing! he thinks he can just score any woman he wants, whenever he wants. even if he learned his lesson from cris, his playboy attitude runs in his veins. it's not something he's gonna shake easily, and you were a victim to his unchanging behavior.

•back to living with nothing, you decided to retreat to the one place you knew you were wanted; the lin kuei compound. bi-han, kuai liang and tomas respected your strength when it came to fighting against evil and welcomed you like their own.

•after about three days of living on the lin kuei's land, you check social media. you went ghost online after the breakup since the paparazzi and article rats were prowling the internet (and your home) for details about your breakup with the A-Lister. checking social media proved to be a stupid move, because almost instantly your feed was flooding with photos and videos of your ex-boyfriend partying on yachts and posing with models. he's really out here posting like he's not damaged in the slightest, but literally everyone and their mother can read the post a little deeper and see he's compensating for losing you. you were mature, well-spoken, and well respected, and he was still trying to get his shit together after everything that happened. you were just another crack in his shittily held together glass. and it was time to get back at him.

•it starts off innocently enough, you snap quick photos of the grandmaster when he's not looking, showing only his veiny arms and a hint of his blue uniform. you'd post it to your story to pretend to soft launch this new "boyfriend," linking a romantic song to the post and letting people run wild. this proved effective immediately, as you noticed that "UgotCAGEd" with the little verified mark would view your story almost the exact moment it'd go up. you knew that he knew exactly who was in the photo, and it just had to have been driving him up a wall. he even tried to combat this by posting more and more, each setting getting more lavish and sexy than the last. if anything, johnny was a chronic 1-upper. but you couldn't just post blurry pictures of bi-han forever. this needed to cut deep.

•and you were going to play this stupid game, because if he goes low, you go in the TRENCHES.

•"grandmaster sub-zero, i-i have a favor to ask you," you politely ask, bowing once before smiling up at bi-han. "i have a plan. a... ridiculous one. but it needs your help."

•"you want us to fake partnership?" bi-han asks you, trying to summarize your lengthy explanation. "go ask kuai liang. or tomas. they need something to do these days, with shang tsung imprisoned. i'm busy."

•"it can't be them, it has to be you," you respectfully protest, putting your hands in a prayer position to beg for his help. "johnny is... jealous of you. it would be most effective. and i'll be forever in your debt." bi-han's eyes momentarily widen at your insistence. your desperation for his help caught him a little off guard.

•it's true. johnny was jealous ever since he got his shit kicked in when they first met. they were never really huge fans of each other since then. standing in front of him now, it's easy to understand how bi-han was so superior. his emotions never took control, he was a powerful leader for his clan, and his furrowed brows and gravely voice rumbled inside of your chest... jesus, now that you're getting a good look, he's actually pretty hot. oh, no.

•"this is ridiculous," bi-han groans, trying to angle himself just right in the selfie. he stands behind you, hand wrapped around your neck as you try to angle the photo just right to where it only gives a tease of his face in the mirror's reflection. "how long does one photo take?"

•"it has to be perfect," you reply, eyes focused on your phone as you wiggle it in different directions to get the best possible view. "crouch down a little more, so more of your jawline shows."

•he leans down, and his breath fans across your neck and ear as he sighs in frustration. you can't deny the little tingle it made you feel inside. but hey, anyone would be nervous if a brick wall like bi-han was in breathing vicinity...

•you snap the photo, seemingly satisfied but now fighting a flustered expression. when you look it over, you realize no, this isn't enough. johnny would leak his own sex tape with a model to beat you at this stupid game, and while you weren't necessarily ready to start blowing the ninja, you knew you needed to get one step ahead.

•"can we take... one more?" you ask sheepishly, already trying to put into words what exactly you're going to ask from this expressionless man.

•"only if it's quick," he replies with a frown, crossing his arms.

•you take a deep breath, spinning to face him and nearly chest to chest from the tightness of the small bedroom you were given.

•pointing to your bed, bi-han almost instantly understands. his lips turn into a thin line as his cheeks are brushed with warmth, warmth that he tries to conceal from you with his hand as he rubs his face.

•he sits himself on the bed, propped up on his elbows with a knowing look in his eye. it's difficult to maintain eye contact as you crawl onto the edge of the bed, hesitant to do what you wanted. for a moment, you want to pull away and trash your entire plan. there's no way you were about to climb up and sit on a ninja grandmaster's lap as revenge against your movie star ex. how in the genuine hell did you end up in this situation??

•"come on, woman," bi-han grumbles, sitting up for a moment to abruptly wrap his hands around your hips and pulling you to sit atop his lap. you tense up, realizing you're now straddling him... and lowkey, he looks good under you. he also just manhandled you. hm. curious.

•you try to shift yourself to comfortably rest on his hips before seeming satisfied with the position. shakily, you reach up to snap a selfie, one that conceals his face but shows you sticking your tongue out and flipping the bird.

•and then you felt it.

•at first, it went unnoticed due to your nerves about the uncharacteristic closeness. but, once you settled to snap the photo, you realized that... bi-han was rock fucking hard underneath you. you weren't sure if you should acknowledge it, but regardless, it felt so perfectly sized against your clothed folds, and you make your interest unintentionally obvious when you let out a nervous whimper. bi-han's eyes remained trained onto yours with a hint of hunger in his low-lidded gaze. even though he wanted to initially hide the boner, it was now abundantly obvious and he felt a surge of confidence gauging your reaction. the hands that rested on your hips tightened, his cold fingers digging into your flesh.

•"you feel that?" he grumbles out, his body feeling suddenly incredibly hot against yours. you swallow and nod. as you do, his firm grip starts to rock your hips back and forth against his cock, the friction of the fabric dividing you two sending you wild already. "whose is bigger?"

•"...yours," you answer breathlessly, allowing yourself to be controlled by the cryomancer's hands. your confession was true, too. johnny's dick was long and lean, but bi-han's.... lord. it felt thick. even through layers of clothes it felt like it could tear you down the middle if he pounded hard enough. a new part of you wanted to find out.

•with a sudden haste, bi-han hikes up your skirt and top, holding the clothes bunched around your waist as he abruptly gives you even closer contact to his cock. you could feel it twitch and throb, and every part of you wanted to sink it into your throat to see how well it hugs your mouth's fleshy walls. his hands crawl underneath the bunched up clothes and settle on your hips, this time directly gripping the plush of them.

•a shiver shot down your spine, both with sudden arousal and the frosty trails on your body from his fingertips. even if he wouldn't admit it, he was just as excited as you were. he let out a low growl feeling your pussy leak through your panties and dampen his dick.

•"i hated the way he looked at you," he'd grumble, eyes fixated on the friction he was creating by manhandling your frame to grind against his. "wanted you all to myself — ngh —"

•you wanted so badly to stop and unpack that wild, sudden confession, but you were already fiending for his popsicle like a motherfucker. through your hazy vision, you see bi-han lock eyes with you, a devilish glint present. he reaches between the two of you and palms himself while you try to relieve the pressure on your clit using the back of his hand.

•finally fed up with the foreplay, bi-han pushes you off of him, making you elevate your body on your knees. he tugs his shirt up and his pants down. his member springs free from the tight constraints, and lord help us all, it's as long and thick as it felt through the pants.

•"you wish to get back at that pompous wannabe?" he asks, voice dangerously husky. "get to it then." obeying like a dog, you settle between his parted legs. still holding his dick, he slaps it against your cheek expectantly.

•the tension, the hunger, and the high emotions overtook your strength to remain proper in front of the grandmaster as you eagerly licked at the base of his shaft, trailing kisses all the way to the warm tip. once you feel properly sure of his size, you slowly but surely sink him into your mouth, barely able to get his dick deep enough without causing a strain on your jaw muscles. bi-han tries to keep his arousal under wraps, but when he feels you hollow out your cheeks to give him the greatest pleasure possible, he lets out a little whine of surprise, though it still sounds more animalistic due to his grumbly voice.

•you hold this position for a moment, letting your warmth completely encapsulate his freezing body. you were starting to see stars in the corner of your eyes before bi-han harshly pulls you up by your hair, making you sputter for breath. a thin trail of saliva follows your lips as he raises your head.

•"wait," he commands breathlessly, fumbling with his other hand to find your phone that was discarded onto the mattress. when he does find it, he struggles even more, mind blank from horniness and also his unfamiliarity with smart devices. you chuckle to yourself, climbing back up to his chest and weaving your way between his arms to show him how to record a video. when it's finally figured out, you crawl back down to where you were and grab his cock with a full hand, stroking it lazily. he winces.

•"sensitive already?" you ask in a low tone, giggling to yourself. bi-han didn't have much time to relieve his sexual desires, so it's no wonder that the slightest bit of head nearly sends this man flying to the moon. "i expected more from you, grandmaster—"

•"—shut the fuck up," he replies sternly, not finding your teasing all too funny. "i'll silence that whore mouth."

•woah

•and with that, he holds the phone up, angled downward at you as you angle your lips on his tip again. he grabs the fistful of your hair and sinks you down once more, this time holding you in place. you barely had time to get some air in before getting your throat thoroughly plugged. you put your hands on his thighs to ensure you'd stay upright, but always sure to look at the camera as you gag and drool.

•"that's more like it," he'll purr, pushing your hair from your face as he holds you still. he then directs his voice to the camera. "how about that, cage? taught your dog some new tricks. i'd say she's exceeding expectations."

•when he finally lets you breathe, you only get a couple gasps before willingly taking his cock again, this time bobbing rhythmically. bi-han, as a ninja, is incredibly good at staying silent, so all he can do is let out occasional exhales and sharp intakes of breath as you suck him off.

•you're sure to put on more of a show than usual for the video, looking into the camera with a sultry smile even with your lips stretched out to accommodate for his giant dick. you've got an expression that says "fuck you."

•when bi-han has enough of your pace, he starts to buck his hips into your throat, creating a nasty gargling sound in the back of your head that would be otherwise nauseating. you're surprised he's not ripping the hair straight from your scalp as he death grips a fistful. frosty hands grip the sheets, solidifying them with a thin sheet of ice as he nears the edge. his body can't decide between lurching forward and arching back as you make him cum.

•he's a silent orgasm-haver. bi-han bites down hard on his lower lip as he releases, clenching his eyes shut and knitting his brows together. and boy, does he love to ride the high of fucking your face. he loves it even more knowing he'll have an audience.

•he wanted to cum into your mouth so badly, but even he knew better. he had to make the money shot something memorable. cum painted your face beautifully, dripping down your cheeks and catching in your eyebrows. there was even a thick streak starting from your hairline. with no time to ever do this himself, his jizz accumulated within him for quite some time, now soaking your entire face.

•bi-han stops the video, but only to snap photos of your messied, flushed face. gripping your cheeks to hold you in place, he's sure to make sure every drop of cum is within camera shot as he catches his breath.

•you swipe a glob of his load from your forehead and stick your finger in your mouth, tasting his arousal for you with a smirk.

•"definitely sending that to him," you giggle as he tucks his dick back into his pants. "i'm in your debt, bi-han." normally, he would've protested the use of his first name from an associate of liu kang, but he was too high from his orgasm to really give a shit. instead, he grumbles a small "mhm," and nods, fighting a little smirk himself.

•he stands up and grabs a loose towel, holding up your face more sweetly this time as he wipes you clean. the gesture was oddly soothing. he seemed like a pump and dump kind of man, and he probably is! but you're touching a sweet spot he didn't know he even had. even so, he's silent, never once communicating this and instead expressing it through the minor gesture.

•a relationship doesn't quite blossom yet, but the sexual tension between you two is now incredibly obvious to the lin kuei. his gaze lingers, as does yours. the touches during training last a moment longer. your silly little plan of making johnny angry seemed to have blossomed a new... situationship? we'll unpack that some other time.

•the following morning, your phone rings. it's johnny.

•"DID YOU BLOW THE FUCKING ICE NINJA?!"

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk1 #bi han #bi han x reader #johnny cage smut #sub zero #sub zero x reader #bi han smut

917 notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 2 months

Note

thinking about calling pogue!rafe over because your hot water isn’t working and he’s acting all annoyed but he’s lowkey kicking his feet at the fact that he gets to be in your home. maybe even asking him to stay after your shower so you can cook him something as a reward and play house for a bit 🩷🩷🩷

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

my favourite thing about pogue!rafe is that he acts soooo inconvenienced by your presence. he hates kooks, think they’re so stuck up — so he can’t help but feel to push you away. always referring to you as a ‘stuck up little girl’ whilst he’s only a couple of years older than you. he’d done some work on the house before, and whilst your parents are away you literally don’t know who to call to fix your hot water problem so you try him, pacing around your room.

at first during your call, he tells you he’s got a shit tonne of work to be doing on other houses and doesn’t have time to drop everything for a kook princess. he can practically see your little pout through the phone, but keeps up his attitude until you thank him for his time anyway, sadly throwing out a little “no, i understand it’s okay. i’ll probably just hit up that jj maybank. i heard he’s pretty handy.�� and suddenly he’s changed his tune, physically sitting up from his slouched position to be all “shit, okay fine… fine. i’ll be there in twenty minutes just — just don’t call anyone else a’ight?”

he’s sulking when he turns up with his tool box and that muscle tank and shorts with paint and dirt on them — unable to stop sucking on your bottom lip because he’s just so big and strong. he’s ignoring your lustful gaze with everything in him as he walks through to your bathroom. “lets just get this out the way, yeah?” he drawls as he gets to work.

you sit on the sink and swing your legs, not leaving him alone as he works simply chatting his ear off, seemingly unphased by his blunt replies, finding creative ways to shut you down like reminding you “yeah, uh you’re my little sisters age.” however you seemed totally unscathed, only working harder to prove you’re grown enough to take him.

“should be workin’ fine now so uh… just wire me the money n’we’ll be good. doin’ overtime right now so i kinda just wanna go home.” he waves you off and you step infront of him.

“you’re finished working?”

“di’nt i just say that kid?” he drawls and you grin, dragging him to your lounge.

“perfect! look i really wanna thank you specially for bein’ so helpful to me even though it’s clear you don’t want to. let me cook you dinner. please? i got beer and uh… i’ll make it really good. oh please rafe, my parents are away and i’m all alone.”

he sighs like it tortures his whole being, but he couldn’t deny that your house was super nice — nicer to hang out in than his shitty little fishing shack that he calls a home. he’d heard the cops had been sniffing around for him wanting to talk about a little ‘altercation’ he recently wound up in and didn’t have the energy to deal with that. no one would suspect him in the kook princess headquarters.

he cracks open a beer and lounges on your couch watching tv as you prepare the food for him before sticking everything in the oven and heading upstairs to shower. he doesn’t notice your presence disappear until you’ve returned in the tiniest little night gown and damp hair, leading him to the dining room where you serve up his food.

“some real housewife shit, huh?” he can’t hold back his smile as you seat him infront of a hearty meal. you feel all warm at the implication, shrugging modestly.

it’s inevitable that you wind up in his lap after he’s eaten, having sat with him and flirted — leaning over the table with your tits practically spilling out. you can’t quite recall how you got there, in between telling him you had nothing on under the nightgown and him telling you that it wasn’t his fault that men had primal instincts or some shit like that — but soon he was pulling your dress up to your waist and stuffing himself inside you, roughly fucking up into you.

“oww, rafey!” you whine at how rough he’s being with you, not used to being treated like anything but a princess. he can tell it’s an act though, and you truly do love it from the way your walls contract around him.

“nah, nah you knew what you were doin’ inviting me here. what were — were you just sittin’ around with a fuckin’ wet pussy waitin’ on your moment to invite me round n’let you fuck on me? huh? that was this is?” he bucks his hips, holding onto you to completely take control from below, bashing you against the table with each thrust that was certain to leave bruises.

you whimper, pressing your body to his trying to win over some affection as you sniffle. “just got such a crush on you, rafe.” you mewl and he scoffs, taking that moment to pick you up in his lap and place you on the dining room table instead, gaining more control so he could keep rutting into you.

“sick’a you little kook girls tryn’a — tryn’a use me like im some little experiment that you can toss to the side afterwards.” he complains, gripping your hips and practically using you like a toy. if he wasn’t holding you up, you’d be completely limp.

“dont want you with other girls! not — not gonna get rid of you i just want you.” you defend, and finally he slows his punishing pace to catch his breath, staring down at you analytically with parted lips, dick twitching inside you at the confession.

“that right?” he deadpans and you nod, teary eyed. “that why you let me in this princess cunt raw? huh? no protection or nothin’? just… just hoping i pull out? ha…” he chuckles maliciously, starting to push in deeper once more, upping his pace just a tad. “yeah… yeah maybe i should nut right in here—” he caresses your lower tummy making you whimper, completely at his mercy with your legs split. “knock up some kook pussy. won’t just be a phase then will i? nah baby… nah you’d be stuck with me for life.”

he’s got a sick smile on his face, but what he’s not expecting is for you to grip the back of his neck, your bottom lip wobbling with a serious look in your eyes. “do it.” you command and his face drops a little, realising that maybe he was dealing with a girl that had it bad for him. that, or you’re trying to get some sort of revenge on your parents. either option made his dick throb.

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #pogue!rafe

520 notes · View notes

apollosfavkiddo · 2 months

Text

just a little drunk - hoo boys

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: percy jackson, leo valdez, jason grace and frank zhang x drunk!reader, best friends to lovers

warnings: mortal!au, alcohol consumption, dirty jokes, weed consumption, probably cursing.

a/n: i just discovered that i have a massive problem with writing. i literally took half an hour (at least) to write EACH one of those. terrible. just terrible. but i swear im trying to write more, it’s just cause i don’t have much creativity to write 😭

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

now playing… party in the USA - miley cyrus

Percy Jackson

He was at the party. Of course he was at the party. Everyone says a party without Percy Jackson is not a party. But he was the DD of the night, so he was completely sober - which was a hard task for the party king.

That, until he saw you. On top of a table. Striping down- wait. Striping down?! Jesus Christ, he left you alone for five minutes- oh, you’re taking your shirt off.

Of course there’s a bunch of assholes standing there, telling you to keep going and screaming obscenities at you. But Percy didn’t have the time to be mad right now, he was too focused on you.

If he got there one second late, he and everyone else in that room would see the black lacy bra you was wearing, but thank goodness he got there before you did it.

“Alright, that’s enough for today, isn’t it, sweetheart?” He said, hugging you from behind and taking a very giggly you off the table. All the boys in the room started ‘booh’ing him, and he just flipped him the finger.

“Perce! I was having funnn!!” You complained, your words sloppy and smudgy as he basically dragged you back to his SUV. He just rolled his eyes and chuckled slightly.

“Y/n/n, you were about to strip in front of a lot of people. I’m sure you’d kill me tomorrow if i let that happen.” He said as he pushed you onto the car and pulled the seat down so you could lay against it.

“Hmm.. Yeah, i’d probably do that.” She said, the smile never leaving her face as she started mumbling random words.

He closed the door and walked towards the driver’s seat. He knew he couldn’t drive you back to his house now, since he had to wait for his friends, so he just turned the air conditioning on and pulled a blanket over you shoulders.

“Sleep for a little. I’ll take you to my home, hm? I’ll take care of you.” He said, taking the loose strands of hair off your face. You were just so pretty it was unbearable.

“Fine.. Thanks, Percy.” She said and drifted off to slumber.

After a few minutes of watching you sleep, he remembered that you’d hate to sleep with make up on, so he looked into the glove compartment and- aha! Of course you had left a few of your wet wipes there.

He started softly running the cloth against your face, cleaning it. When he was finally over, he kissed your nose slightly and smiled to himself, waiting for his friends so he could drive you home aswell.

Jason Grace

He was sleeping, as any normal person would at 2 am. But he was a light sleeper, and he woke up suddenly with his phone raining in his nightstand. He groaned and searched for both his glasses and the phone so he could see who was calling him so late in the night.

When he looked at the phone screen, he frowned in confusion. Why was Kayla calling him, out of nowhere? She usually didn’t call him, unless-

“Kayla?” He said as he picked up the phone, sitting in his bed and rubbing his eyes so he could try and forget the sleepiness that was threatening to win him over.

“Hey, Jason.. uh… i’m sorry for waking you up but, uh… i’m in a party with y/n-“ Y/n and parties? Never ever a good combination. “-And she doesn’t accept to go home unless it’s with you. She’s… drunk. Maybe high, too. Can you pick her up?”

Oh boy, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to do that. “I’m on my way. Just… send me the address and i be there as soon as possible.”

“Fine- shut up, y/n! Stay here, no-“ And then the call was over.

My god, he thought, what’s she gotten herself into this time?

Kayla sent him the adress and he got into his car - a Lambo, gift from his absent father trying to make up for it - and got in the place the party was happening in less than ten minutes.

The first thing he noticed was the loud noise in the party. The second was you, laid down and making a snow angel in the grass. Funny sight.

“Y/n/n? My god, what in hell are you-“ He got cut off with you getting up and jumping on his arms, hugging him.

“Jase! I didn’t think you’d come!” You said, smiling brightly at your best friend. “Come on, let’s go to the party!”

You tried pulling his hand towards the house, but you weren’t already the strongest while sober, and drunk… e didn’t even flinch.

“No, honey, im taking you back to your house. You got enough drinking for today.” He said, pulling you by the waist towards him and placing you inside the car as you tried your hardest to get back to the party.

“As, come on! Buzzkill!” You whined, crossing your arms and pouting at him.

“Come on, i’ll buy you a slushee. What’d you think?” He asked. You immediately smiled. Drunk you was a very easily distracted person.

“Fine. But we’ll talk about that tomorrow.” He said, squeezing her shoulder softly as he drove towards the gas station.

“Whatever you say. Buzzkill.”

Leo Valdez

He was home watching a dumb tv show. He didn’t really bother with sleeping, since he knew his best friend was going to a party. And you plus party equals to a very drunk mess.

So when he finally got a call, he already knew it was you. It happens that he was right.

“Yes, cariño?” He asked, a smile plastered on his lips as soon as he heard your drunk giggles.

“Can you pick me up, fireboy?” You asked, your voice groggy and smudgy. But he knew it would probably be like that, so he was already expecting it.

“Course i can. Send me the address and i’m on my way.”

“Fine. Bye Valdeeezzzz..” You said before hanging up the phone with giggles and smiles.

He got where you were and you were being supported by one of your friends, who seemed pretty annoyed with the drunk version of you, all smiley and clingy to anyone around.

“Oh, thank god you’re here. I can’t stand her anymore.” Your friend said before basically dragging you towards the boy. “She’s all yours now.”

You were all smiles as you held Leo’s neck and pulled him close to you. “Leooooo! I missd’ ya!”

“Hey, cariño. You’re kinda drunk, aren’t you?” He asked before supporting your weight and taking you towards his car.

“What? Me? Nooo…” You said, giggling. You clearly smelled like pure alcohol.

“Sure you aren’t. Get in there, i’m taking you home.” He said, opening the passanger’s seat for you and placing you inside.

He put on your seat belt and kissed you forehead before walking towards the driver’s seat.

When he got inside the car, you were almost completely dozed off in sleep, trying your hardest to stay awake. He chuckled and turned the air conditioning on so you could rest more comfortably.

“Sleep, y/n/n. I’ll call you when we get home.” He said, the smile never leaving his lips.

Franz Zhang

He’s dead worried that you haven’t gotten home yet. Of course he didn’t knew where you were, cause you didn’t tell him.

Come on, you knew that, if you did tell him, he’d try to stop you.

So why bother?

You were having fun. A really, really good time. That was until your best friend came by with a weird cocktail, which was nothing more than a mix of different types of alcohol and syrup. Really fun.

And that’s when you got drunk and wobbly and you just had to call Frank. Common drunk mistake, isn’t it?

He picked up on the third ring.

“Y/n? My god, are you okay?” He asked, his voice laced with concern. He was so worried about you, cause you weren’t home and you didn’t pick up the phone and just called him out of the blue.

“Frankie!” You said and he could hear the smile in your voice. His concern only grew once he realized you were drunk.

“Y/n, where are you? I’m going to pick you up.” He said, already getting up with the car and house keys in his hand.

“I’m at Louis’ house! We’re having a birthday party!” You said, giggling and smiling brightly at absolutely nothing.

“Fine, i’ll… i’ll be there in ten. Just… don’t do anything stupid, and wait for me, outside the house. Don’t drink anything else and please, for the heavens sake, don’t do drugs.” He pleaded.

“I’m not- Frankie! I’m not on drugs. Please.” You said in a fake annoyed tone and giggled again. He rolled his eyes and sighed, driving towards where you were.

When he got there, he immediately saw you on the backyard, playing probably Pokémon Go and yelling when you finally found a pokémon. He smiled at the sight, and then remembered why he was there.

He walked towards you. When you finally saw him, you smiled widely and jumped in his direction, trying to hug his neck. Which wasn’t easy, as he was a little taller than you.

“Hey.” He said as he leaned down so you could hug him properly.

“Heyyy!!! I missed you!” You said, voice muffled by his shoulder. “Can you take me home? Please? I’m tired.” You said smiling cheekily.

“No.” He said, simply. “I’m taking you to my house today, kay? There’s some of your stuff there, and i can borrow you a shirt so you can sleep. But i’m not leaving you alone in this state.”

“Yay! Sleepover!” You cheered excitedly.

He couldn’t deny that the drunk version of you was very cute.

a/n pt2: did you see what i did there? i cut almost all of them in the middle. two reasons: one, for this not be too big and second i have inspiration to write more. lmk if u want a part 2 of those!!

#postcards from leah #jason grace #jason grace x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #frank zhang #frank zhang x reader #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

440 notes · View notes

heavenlyraindrops · 2 months

Text

♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Six ♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Six Warnings: profanity, making out, biting How to find the other chapters in my pinned post.

♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱

A/N: y’all are gonna love this one

[Chapter Six]

“So then I said no, again,” you said, finishing your story on how Adam had proposed to you for the fifth year in a row. Lucifer turned his head to look at you, golden strands falling in front of his eyes.

You were both lying on the floor- the rug, to be exact, of one of the many rooms Lucifer had. You’d dragged him down there with you. He couldn’t say no. The window casted a large square of red light into the room, precisely where you two lay.

It had been five years since you first met.

Five years of sneaking away from the exorcists. Five years of crawling in through conveniently left open windows. Five years of evading the Seraphim and Lute’s questions and five years spent communicating in Morse code through your bracelets, late into the night.

“Is it just me, or is he getting more creative? As far as an idiot like him can get, anyways.” Lucifer murmured. You raised a hand to shield your eyes from the light so you could see him properly.

“As far as an idiot like him can get? I don’t know about you, but he really exceeded my expectations.” Lucifer laughed at that. The sound was beautiful, the most beautiful thing you had ever heard.

“Really. He scared me when he popped out of my ficus plant. Actually, I’m quite sad about that ficus.”

“I’ll find a way to get you a new ficus,” Lucifer sighed, turning back over. You smacked his shoulder playfully.

“You can’t get me a new ficus, Your Majesty.”

“I’m the King of Hell. I’ll get you anything you want. No matter what.”

The words made you blush, as you flicked your eyes back to the ceiling.

“And just call me by my name. Why do you even use ‘Your Majesty?’”

You let out an incoherent string of half-hearted grumbles in response, which made him chuckle. Somehow his hand had found yours, fingers intertwining like they were magnetically attracted to each other.

“How much time until the Pentagram closes?”

“Enough, but not long.”

“Wish I didn’t have to go.”

Lucifer sat up, a lock of hair tumbling down over his pale forehead as he grinned at you. Devilishly handsome. “Do you prefer to spend time with me than all your friends in Heaven?”

Your heart thumped against your ribcage. You were worried he could hear it as you gulped. “Maybe.”

Your hands were still connected.

You sat up too. He stared into your eyes, then flicked his gaze to your lips, then back up. Then his face split into another smirk. “Well, thanks for taking the risk for me.”

You hadn’t realized that you’d both been drawn closer. You could feel his breath on your lips.

A sudden urge to just lean in washed over you. You searched his face desperately, looking for a single sign that he wanted it too. Even the smallest look. He tilted his head, glancing down at your lips again, closer.

You grabbed his collar, pulling him in. “It’s worth it,” you breathed.

His lips felt soft- so so soft, you could have stayed like that forever. You could feel his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, closer. You shuddered, digging your nails into his shoulders, easing a small moan out of him.

“Angel,” he whispered, and the nickname burned hot against your lips as you tangled your fingers through his golden locks, just to pull him in again, as close as you could get.

“Lucifer,” you gasped in response, and felt him shiver under your fingertips.

You both pulled away, breathing heavily. He glanced at you from half-lidded eyes. “Say it again,” he murmured shakily.

“Say what?”

“My name.” He yanked on your hand and you toppled over, into his chest, palms braced on the floor behind him. “Say it again.”

Your mind whirled. “Lucifer-“

He grabbed your face, pulling you in again, kissing you with more ferocity this time. You felt his sharp teeth graze against your bottom lip tantalizingly, and it took everything for you to not bite back. Fingers dug into your waist, balancing you on his thigh.

You let off a small, sharp breath of annoyance as he pulled away, only for him to trail his lips down your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses and bruises, ending at your collarbone. He leaned back up to kiss your lips again. You pushed him away gently.

“Lucifer, we can’t do this,” your voice trembled. His expression dropped and it almost shattered your heart in pieces. “It’s too risky.”

“Angel-“

“No,” you said desperately. “It isn’t supposed to happen. It’s gone too far.” His lips clamped shut. Your eyes flicked up and down his figure, the rumpled clothes, the messed up hair. His face flushed, lips swollen.

“Why?” He murmured, voice dangerously low. You almost gave in again. “I’ll finish what I started. Won’t you? Don’t you want this?”

“I do. I want it so bad. But if they find out- the trouble we’ll get in- they might even come for you-“

“Let them,” he growled, voice riddled with frustration. You stared at him for a split moment, your own breathing the only thing you could hear, and then your lips crashed into his again, with more fervour and desperation than ever before as you clawed at his shirt. He whimpered, the noise making you throb.

“Fuckkk,” you hissed, the word unfamiliar on your tongue, as he kissed his way down your jaw again, then yelped as he nipped at the soft skin. You pulled away. He grinned at a spot on your neck that throbbed, fingers tracing the sensitive flesh. You could feel the bite mark forming.

“Something to remember me by,” he muttered against your neck.

You blushed.

♱♱♱

You pulled your collar up for the fifth time that evening, surrounded by exorcists in the hot, busy bar you were in. The fabric brushed against the bite, making you flinch.

They had wanted to celebrate a recent newly appointed exorcist's first extermination, and it just so happened that you were acquainted with the girl. And also the fact that Adam had begged you to go in his place.

Lute was downing another drink next to you. You’d lost count of how many she’d had, watching in concern as she punched the air, eyes drooping with intoxication. “Carpe noctem, bitches!”

“Right,” you muttered, checking your watch. It was late. Really late. “Lute, are you sure you should have another drink?”

Lute waved over the bartender. “Fuckin’ hell yeah,” she snapped, head flopping in all sorts of directions as she babbled her order in an incoherent mess of words. You smiled at the bartender apologetically and shook your head. They got the hint and left. Lute didn’t even notice.

The two other exorcists with you giggled. One of them leaned on the bar. “Let her have another, [name].” She ruffled the hair of the girl next to her. “In cheers to pipsqueak’s coming of age, right?”

You stared at them, then turned back to Lute, who was in hysterics next to you. “One more, and then we’re going home.”

“Booooringgg,” the exorcist groaned, then opened their eyes wide. “But if you say so, [name].” She nudged her shy friend. “Who are we to disagree with the great [name] herself?”

You coughed uncomfortably. “I… uh, well-“

“Sorry,” the ‘pipsqueak’ mumbled to you. You smiled at her gently.

For the next few minutes you watched over Lute, until you had to rush her to the bathroom to throw up. You had pulled back her short cut hair as she hacked into the toilet bowl, until she drunkenly pushed you away.

“Go away. Leave me the fuck alone- I don’t need you.”

She still leaned on you on the way back to your seats.

As you both approached, you heard the exorcist’s conversation:

“Yeah, so she cut that bitches eye out, just like that. That’s Lute for ya. I’ll tell you a thing, pipsqueak- you see a traitor, you show them no mercy. That bitch Vag-“

“Hey, girls,” you said. They both turned to look at you, and a groaning Lute. “I’m gonna take Lute home now. She’s… well…” you jerked your head at her and they nodded sympathetically.

You gathered yours and Lute’s things before tugging on her arm.

“Come on. Let’s go,” you murmured, fussing with Lute’s hair. Lute groaned dramatically, leaning away from your touch as if she was repelled by it.

“Fine, bitch,” she hissed.

♱♱♱

A/N: what’s gonna happen with Lute? 😨😨😨 stay tuned to find out besties

Taglist: @boredlime, @ica1, @tremendoushearttaco, @sweetadonisbutbetter, @lucky-flowey,@kitty-kei, @thornwolfy235, @w31rd3rg1rl, @marxo5, @lvstyangel, @brainz00, @lukerycyja-reblogs, @dickmastersworld,@everlastprime259-blog, @rain-doll401-blog, @bakugounuggets, @ren-ren23, @mjhehe09,@angelicwillows, @rayyrayysanchez, @luleck, @dellugh-shposts

226 notes · View notes

heich0e · 1 year

Text

bittersweet - vash the stampede/f!reader (trigun stampede): 7k, listen there's only been 2 eps and i don't know the lore so i am loudy and emphatically declaring creative license, in my mind this is set before the start of stampede but not by much, heavy on the wild wild west core here, light angst, smut, fingering, needy vanilla sex, domesticity, mentions of alcohol/alcoholism, boot-throwing related violence. 18+ NSFW MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

The desert smells bitter.

You wouldn’t think that sand would smell like much at all, but the fragrance that hangs perpetually in the air is heavy, singed, and acrid with the heady scent of life and its misery. Waste and runoff make their unpleasantness acutely known on the hottest days, and the fumes from old machinery that’s barely functioning thanks to age and disrepair—that no one can afford to fix, so they have to hold out hope it keeps running—clogs up the already noxious atmosphere as it rattles on throughout the day.

Mama used to tell you that outside of Jeneora Rock, the world smelled different. There’s somewhere else past the walls that mark the edge of the only town you’ve ever known, even past the wastelands—a place where almost no one ever goes, but that your Mama saw once. Or at least she said she did.

She told you it smelled clean. Sweet. Untouched by anything but the sun’s heat and the five moons’ glow.

Mama’s gone, has been for a long time now, and even though she never had much to give to you in the first place, that story is the most precious thing she left behind. You think about it almost as often as you think about her.

The end of another long day is marked by a familiar heaviness to your bones. Between the suffocating heat that makes you groggy and a hard day's work, there’s a palpable weight that bears down on you as you climb the never-ending metal stairs to your front door—your feet drag a bit more with every step.

The lock to your home is getting hard to turn. You’ve noticed it a few times now: a resistance as you slip your key into the keyhole, a pressure as you urge the mechanism to turn and let you in. There may be sand built up in there to clean out, or maybe it needs some oil.

But oil costs money, of which you don’t have much, so you really hope that it’s the former rather than the latter.

You examine the keyhole once you manage to force the lock open, dropping to your knees outside your door to peek into the narrow opening on the tarnished face of the lock. It doesn’t do you much good because the sun’s already dropped dark, and even if the light of day still hung overhead you doubt it would be enough to make the issue any clearer. You drag your thumb idly along a little scratch beside the keyhole that's probably been there for years; the metal is still warm to the touch from the heat of the day that still hasn’t quite broken, the surface a little rougher where the score is chipped in.

You sigh, picking yourself up off the ground and dusting off your skirt, and turn the knob into your home.

It’s dark when you get inside, but something feels wrong.

You shut the door behind you as you enter, pressing your back flat against it as your eyes struggle to adjust to the dark. Your home, like every other one in town, isn’t really much to look at even in the plain light of day. You’re luckier than lots of people though, you’ve got a couple rooms all to yourself where some families have no choice but to cram many people into just one. Papa left you this house, cause now he’s gone too just like Mama, but not much has changed since the day he left it to you—except now there’s less empty bottles rolling around underfoot, and you get to call the little bedroom off the main room yours.

It takes a second for your eyes to get used to the dimness with the door shut tight behind you, so you blink hard to make it happen faster. You see the rickety little table against the wall near the door, and the chair on the other side of the room where you sometimes sit by the window to mend your skirts when they wear and tear—but only when you get home early enough to catch the last few moments of sun, cause Mama always used to warn you about sewing by lamplight. The shutters on the window are closed and locked now, but there’s no light outside them to let in anyway.

Something shuffles in the dark.

Papa left you a gun, too. Even taught you how to shoot it. Mama hated that. She hated how good you were at it even more. She used to say that shooting was gonna be your husband’s job someday, and that even in a world this wicked Papa was teaching you things you didn’t need to know.

But now Mama’s gone. And Papa’s gone. And the world is still wicked. And you’ve got no husband, but you have a gun you know how to shoot.

You keep it and a little stash of 7 bullets underneath your bed where you can get to it quick, but it’s on the other side of the house, and even though that’s not very far away you don’t know what’s waiting for you between the door and your bed. You don’t know if it’s faster than you are, either, so running for it would be a fool’s errand.

Inside your chest, your heart starts pumping a little harder, ‘til you can feel the wet thump, thump, thump right in the back of your mouth.

You know you need light. You need to be able to see. You can’t make any decisions until you know what’s between you and your Papa's gun tucked up safe underneath your bed.

Slowly your eyes flicker over to the lamp on your table, just within reach.

You suck a little gasp into your lungs to steel your nerve. The air is less sour in here—more familiar, a little more comforting—but the acrid scent of the desert still lingers on the edge of each breath. Slowly you reach towards the lamp and flick it on.

“PLEASE DON’T SHOOT ME!”

The frantic plea frightens you so terribly that it sends you tumbling to the hard floor, landing flat on your ass with your back thumping painfully into the wall beside your door. In front of you is a face that has no right being as familiar as it is; eyes wide in panic beneath a round pair of glasses, blonde hair tousled in disarray, two hands (one flesh and one crafted) lifted in innocence.

Your heart is beating even faster now under the tight pull of your laced waistcoat.

“Are you an idiot?” you hiss, instinctively tugging your boot off your foot and lobbing it forcefully at the unexpected intruder. “You scared the daylights outta me!”

The man sidesteps the projectile easily, and it clatters to the floor. The expression on his face morphs from one of panic to something a little more chagrined.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, drawing out the word. His tone sheepish, and his lips pull into an apologetic little smile.

You place a trembling hand on your chest, pressing down on the spot where you feel your heart thumping the hardest and willing it to slow. You stare at your scuffed floorboards and take a few breaths to ease the frenetic beat of your pulse, and feel yourself begin to wilt as the adrenaline in your veins starts to fade.

“How’d you get in here, Vash the Stampede?” you ask, looking up again at the man in front of you from your place on the ground.

“I knocked first,” he says with a grimace, “but you weren’t home and I…”

“Broke in because you’ve got someone looking for you?” you finish his explanation for him, your tone flat and entirely unsurprised.

He sighs, shoulders slumping dejectedly as his head hangs forward.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

He lifts his chin only enough to guiltily meet your gaze.

“It’s just for one night,” he murmurs the plea, his bottom lip weighed down by a pout.

You shut your eyes tight, hands balling into fists over your skirt to hide the way they tremble.

“Fine.”

Vash falls to his knees in front of you, hands pressed to the floor as he gets right up in your face with a wide, cheerful grin. He’s almost nose to nose with you, the light of the lamp glinting in his glasses.

“Thanks so much! I promise I’ll be outta here before you know it!”

He doesn’t need to tell you that, because the pang in your empty stomach tells you that, even unspoken, you already knew it to be true.

Vash is travelling light again, just like the last time you saw him. He’s only got one bag that he begins to unpack onto the rickety table in your kitchen, leaving you to quietly go about your own business like you would if you hadn’t found him in your home that night. On the other side of the kitchen you unpack the meagre amount of food you’d managed to buy for yourself that day from little satchel you carried it home in. It’s barely enough food for one, and now you’ll have to stretch it between two.

“Where’s your father?” Vash asks as he fiddles with his gun at the table behind you. “I thought it was him coming through the door, and I thought for sure he was gonna blow my—“

“He’s dead.”

The silence that follows is heavy. Uncomfortable, even. Vash’s hands still even as yours keep quietly peeling the sad, withered skin from the vegetable in your hand with the blade of a half-dulled knife.

“I’m sorry,” his next words are quiet. “Your father was a nice man.”

“My father was a drunk who got himself shot in a bar fight with a merchant who came to town and was talking big. He just worshipped you because you saved the plant.”

That same uncomfortable silence creeps in again in the wake of your words, but after a few moments you hear Vash pick up his tools and start tinkering away at whatever he’s working on once more.

“Is the plant still running?” Vash is the first to speak again, though a fair amount of time passes before he risks another attempt at conversation.

“More or less,” you remark, setting a little pot on the stove to boil with whatever ingredients you’d been able to scrounge together into a meal. You watch the flame of the element burst to life as you flick the switch, a little hiss as the fire licks at the edges of your only copper pot. “Some days it’s more reliable than others. But whatever you did seems to be holding up all right.”

“Good!” Vash says behind you. “That’s good.”

You turn to face him, the unevenly mended hem of your skirt swishing around your ankles. You lean against the little countertop behind you, with your arms crossed behind your back.

“I’ll pop by the plant before I leave town—”

You watch as Vash’s fingers nimbly fiddle with his gun, broken down into its component parts to be cleaned and maintained. You’re sure it doesn’t need it—are certain he’s fired less shots from that gun in the two years since you’ve seen him than you’ve heard in town this week alone—but it’s kind of nice to watch him work, to appreciate how certain and precise his every move is, and to see how concentrated he is while he goes about it.

“—just to make sure everything’s still in good shape.”

He looks up at you, like for the first time he feels your gaze as it traces the lines of his profile. He smiles again, that same wide, willful expression of cheer that he always endeavours to wear even though he might be the person least entitled to it.

You hum. “I’m sure everyone would appreciate that. You should stop by to see Rosa too, she’ll box my ear if she finds out you blew though town and didn’t go see her.”

The two of you eat across the table from one another in silence. Just the scrape of cutlery and the occasional loud swallow passing between the two of you. Vash seems hungry, but appears to be trying his best to be at least a little restrained as he eats with you. Even though you’d given him the larger of the two portions, he’s still finished his plate before you’ve finished yours, but he sits patiently across from you waiting for you to swallow your final bite.

“I’ll take these,” he jumps to his feet before you have the chance to even push your chair back from the table, snatching both of your dishes up into his hands. “I’ll clean up, since you’re letting me stay.”

You don’t deny him, and instead slump back into your seat, dragging your wrist along your forehead. Your skin feels grimy from the hot day and the filth outside. Normally you would have bathed before you cooked, but you hadn’t eaten a proper meal all day—and Vash looked like it may have been even longer than that.

“I’m gonna wash,” you say, standing from your seat. You pause, your fingertips tracing against the rough, rutted surface of the tabletop. You know you don’t have enough water for two baths in your tank. You used to bathe with your mother when you were little, then once you were older and Mama was gone, you got the bathwater first and Papa would get in after you were done. It’s never been an issue until now. “Er—Vash?”

At the sink where your uninvited house guest is scrubbing at the dishes in the washbasin that you’d filled ahead of time, Vash pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. He’s taken off his familiar red coat, left hanging off the chair he’d been seated in at the table, and the black turtleneck he wears beneath it stretches taut over the musculature of his back as it faces you.

“The bath… there’s only enough water to fill it once. I don’t…Do you want…?” you aren’t sure what you’re even trying to ask him, but whatever is coming out of your mouth is even less clear than the thoughts running through your head.

“I’ll bathe second, don’t worry about me.”

Vash’s smile is gentle and obliging, his eyes crinkling at the corners as they narrow into little crescents. You nod stiffly, feeling heat flush through you at the softness in his expression, and shuffle off towards the other side of your home while avoiding his gaze.

The walls of your home are paper thin, and you’re certain that Vash can hear the splash of water in the tub as clearly as you can hear the scratchy, garbled sound of his radio from the other room. Once your skin’s been scrubbed clean of the day, you sit in the water with your knees pulled to your chest and your chin tucked between them. You strain to try to make out what’s being broadcast, but it’s difficult to hear since the reception in town is always so piss poor, and whatever coherent bits of news you manage to catch are just as abysmal as always.

It’s strange, hearing someone else in the house. It’s something you didn’t realize had become so foreign to you in the time you’ve learned to live alone. The idle puttering in the other room is a sound you didn’t realize you had missed. You lean back and dunk yourself into the water, where everything goes quiet.

The bathwater never gets very hot to begin with—tepid at the best of times, which seems unfair given the climate—but you know it’s not fair to waste time in the tub when someone else is waiting for it. You pull yourself up out of the metal basin, careful not to disturb the stopper in the bottom of the tub, and dry as much water from your skin as you can. Once you’ve deemed yourself sufficiently towelled, you pull on your nightdress and a threadbare housecoat overtop.

Vash looks up from the chair in the corner by the window when you emerge from the bathroom, and he meets your eyes so unwaveringly it feels decidedly like he’s trying hard not to let his gaze wander elsewhere. You fidget under his stare, fiddling with the fraying ends of the towel around your neck that’s catching the droplets that fall from your hair. He must realize that he’s unnerving you, because he averts his eyes to a point on the wall over your shoulder after a moment.

“My turn?” he asks, his tone chipper but polite.

“All yours,” you nod, stepping into your bedroom and leaving him to his business.

There’s an old trunk at the bottom of your bed where you keep some of the things your father left that you haven’t yet been able to sell or make use of. You find an old shirt of his near the very bottom, soft and worn-thin from years of washing. It’s something you could have easily sold or traded by now, but that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to part with—though you’re certain the day will inevitably come when sentimentality can no longer outweigh your basic needs.

You stand outside the bathroom door for a moment, your father’s shirt clutched tightly in your hands. You can hear the splash of bathwater you’re sure has gone cold from where you stand, only a few feet and a thin door between you.

You muster your nerve and tap your knuckles lightly against the door.

“I have a shirt if you need something to—“

The door opens, and you find yourself unexpectedly facing the bare chest of your one-night housemate, still damp and glistening from the bath, lined with silvery scars that the low light catches on.

You toss the shirt at him unceremoniously and turn quickly away, and Vash himself makes a little sound of surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be—“

“It’s fine,” you answer before he can even finish his apology, still refusing to meet his gaze. You gesture vaguely over your shoulder without turning. “Just take that.”

The bathroom door clicks closed again, and you clutch the belt of your housecoat over your diaphragm.

You need a drink.

You cross your home to the cabinet in your kitchen, reaching to the back of the nearly-bare shelf and pulling out a dusty old bottle that’s been there since your father died. It wouldn’t have lasted a day if he were still living, and you’ve made it years without ever so much as cracking it open.

Today however, you feel it’s well-deserved.

The dust caked on the bottle smears against your palm as you open it, and you wipe the grime furiously against the material of your housecoat as you pour a long glug of the amber liquor into a waiting glass. It’s vile, lukewarm from the constant heat of your home, and burns every inch of the way down—but as you set the empty glass back onto the counter, you still find yourself grateful for it.

You pour another drink.

“Take it easy,” you hear a voice say behind you, accompanied by a breathy little laugh.

You turn and see Vash hovering not far from you, his black turtleneck folded over one arm and your father’s shirt over his no-longer-bare chest. His hair is wet, a towel draped around his shoulders just like yours, and he’s taken off his usual eyewear. The mole underneath his eye seems more prominent now that he’s scrubbed himself clean.

Your empty glass dangles from the tips of your fingers, the acerbic taste of the liquor lingering on your tongue. You hold it out to him in offering, and he scrunches up his nose a little bit.

“I really shouldn’t—“

“It’s rude to turn down a drink your host is offering you, y’know.”

Things like rudeness don’t mean anything to anyone these days, least of all yourself. Decency is a luxury few people can afford.

Vash sighs, still smiling, and takes the glass from you. Your fingers brush as it passes from your hand to his, and then you take the bottle and pour another healthy splash into the waiting cup. He brings it to his lips, wincing against the fumes alone that waft up from the glass.

“It’s better if you don’t sip it,” you offer him, though even then you know the guidance doesn’t help much.

He tips it back and drains it.

Two drinks were enough to have you feeling woozy, but you pour yourself a third for good measure. You spare Vash the pain of another, much to his apparent relief, and let him off with just the one before tucking the half-drained bottle back into the cupboard you’d dug it out of.

When you turn around again, Vash is crouched down, examining something on the ground.

Your boot. The one you’d thrown at him earlier.

He peers up at you from the floor, he lifts the shoe slightly.

“It broke again.”

A memory floods back to you then, unbidden.

Sitting side by side with Vash on the edge of the steps outside the same house you live in now, but when the way you lived was different. The plant had just been repaired, and there was a palpable feeling of effervescent joy sizzling through the town around you. An uncharacteristic camaraderie amongst the people of Jeneora Rock as the celebration of Vash’s handiwork spreading through the narrow, grimy streets. The two of you were away from it all, sitting quietly together in a strange sort of celebration of your own.

You were less a woman than you were a girl back then, but still somehow neither. He’d patched the sole of your boot back on when it had ripped loose. And you’d laughed when he handed it back to you with an endearingly clumsy flourish, the sound as high and bright as the sun that hung in the sky overhead. You still remember the way your laughter had made his smile grow.

The patch job had lasted a year. You’d sobbed the day it came loose again, just shortly after the death of your father. You’d been using twine tied tightly around the toe of the boot to hold it together ever since.

Vash blinks up at you from the ground as you stare down at him with what you’re sure is a vacant look in your eyes.

“I brought you something,” he says, hopping up and skittering over to his rucksack with your boot still in his hand. He rifles around in the bag for a moment, his mechanical arm shoulder deep as he roots for what he’s looking for. His eyebrows shoot up and he grins when he locates it—a wide, brilliant smile splitting across his face as he pulls his arm out.

He holds his find up in triumph.

You look at it with narrowed eyes.

“What… is it?” you ask, after a moment of trying to identify the small, relatively unremarkable little container in his hand.

“Boot glue!” he says excitedly, waving it in front of your face. “I thought of you when I saw it! The merchant wanted an arm and a leg for it but I managed to—”

Tears have sprung up in your eyes against your will, and you quickly turn away from him to hide them from his sight.

“Hey, are you okay?” Vash’s voice is softer now, less enthusiastic and more concerned.

That softness is what upsets you more than anything. Tenderness is a foreign thing in the desolation of the wastelands.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, scrubbing your hand over your stinging eyes.

For thinking of me.

For knowing that you’d come back.

You leave that part off, but you feel it just as much as what you say.

You drain that third glass that’s been sitting on the counter waiting for you, hoping the burn of the liquor as it sloshes down your throat to your stomach will give you something else to focus on. Or, if nothing else, that it might numb the sudden pain that’s laid roots down in your core.

Vash sits at the table as he patches up your boot under the lamplight, much like he had the first time. You watch him from the chair in the corner, under the shuttered window, with your knees drawn up into your seat with you. You’re more shameless now than you had been while he cleaned his gun, observing him keenly as he scrubs your boot with a rag and leftover water from the dish pan. He makes sure no more grime clings to it before he carefully smears a thick layer of the glue along the sole, pressing down firmly to make sure the adhesion takes. He holds the boot up in front of him when he’s done, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth, eyeing it from every angle to survey his own work.

You watch him just as raptly.

He turns in his seat once he’s satisfied, holding the boot up.

“All done!” he says, hopping up to his feet and shuffling towards you. He crouches down in front of you and holds out his hand expectantly. Slowly, you stick your foot out, and he cradles it gently in his roughened palm.

Carefully he slips the boot onto your foot, tightening the laces once it’s fully in place.

“How’s it feel?” he asks you, peeking up at you from his place on the floor.

“Feels good,” you reply, with an equally breathy tone.

The lamplight doesn’t reach this corner of the room quite as brightly as it does at the table, but you can still make out a blush that sits high and pretty at the top of Vash’s cheeks. You wonder if he’s starting to feel the flush thanks to the liquor, or if maybe it’s something else entirely.

“G-good!” he stammers a little, fiddling with the laces at your ankle. “I’m glad!”

“That glue must have been expensive,” you say. “Thank you, Vash.”

He shoots you a smile as he loops his fingers through the laces. “It's the least I could do, especially with you putting me up for the night.”

For the night.

Just for the night.

The reminder makes you ache a little.

Vash helps you slip your boot off again, carrying it over to the door and setting it down beside its mate.

“I’ll leave this here for you, in case you need it again,” he says, screwing the top back onto the little pot of adhesive at the table. “There’s not much left, but there’s some.”

You nod from your seat in the corner, one leg up and one leg still down—your nightdress drawn up to your knee from when he’d helped you into your boot.

Vash ruffles the hair at the nape of his neck, dry now after his bath. Yours remains a little damp, but you’re sure it won’t last long as the residual heat from the day still hangs in the air even though the sun has long set.

“It’s late,” he finally says after a moment. “You should sleep.”

You hum in agreement, moving to stand from your chair. The room spins slightly around you, those three glasses you’d knocked back sneaking up on you while you’d been sitting down. Your foot hooks in the hem of your nightdress because of the way you’d been sitting, but before you can stumble theres a strong arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady. A warmth pressing into you as your face meets a heaving chest.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Vash murmurs, his grip on you tightening for the briefest moment.

Your hands clutch at his shirt, and you don’t meet his eyes as you nod, letting him lead you towards your bedroom.

Your hands fumble at the belt of your nightdress, pulling it off and tossing the garment across the end of your bed as Vash helps you onto the mattress. You tuck your feet under the thin sheet before leaning back against your pillows, and Vash is quick to turn and head towards the door after helping you pull it up to your waist.

“Wait,” you call to him before he can retreat. He pauses in the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Where are you going to sleep?”

You hadn’t thought much about this, and you ought to have considered it earlier. You only have the one bed, but you have two pillows you can share and a spare blanket in the trunk at the end of it that you could offer him if he wants to sleep on the floor.

But you don’t want to tell him that.

“I’ll just take the chair,” he says with a blithe smile, jutting his thumb towards the armchair in the other room.

It won’t be comfortable. You know that from experience, having fallen asleep there a few times yourself after a particularly gruelling day. The stuffing is lumpy and the springs are painful if you press against them the wrong way. You know he won’t complain about it. You even know that it’s probably still more comfortable than lots of other places he’s rested his head over the past two years.

But you want to be selfish.

For once you don’t want to be alone.

“Vash,” you say quietly, and you watch his entire body go rigid at the sudden bare vulnerability of your tone. “Please stay with me.”

You’d asked him the same thing once before, but different. The words once murmured desperately against his lips as you clung to his red jacket. Staring at him with eyes full of hope and a freshly patched boot on your foot.

He’d looked at you the same way back then too. That smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. As gentle of a no that he could ever offer you.

“I know you have to leave,” you murmur, eyes downcast to your hands as they rest atop your lap. “I don’t expect anything like that from you. I know it’s just for tonight.”

“Please don’t cry.”

The bed dips beside you, and Vash tilts your face up towards him. He looks troubled when you meet his gaze, even in the dim light of your bedroom you can make out the conflict on his features. It’s strange to see him not smiling, wrong almost.

But your eyes are dry.

“Stay,” you repeat yourself, meeting his gaze resolutely. You swallow hard over the lump in your throat, bracing yourself for the impending sear of rejection.

Vash cups your cheeks in his hands, and you can’t tell if it’s your cheeks or his touch that feels so warm.

“You deserve someone that can say yes to that and mean it properly,” he says ruefully, not dissimilarly to what he’d said the first time you’d asked the very same thing of him.

“I’m not asking anyone else,” you whisper, “I’m asking you."

You wonder if your mouth still tastes like liquor as Vash’s tongue dips inside of it, hovering over you as you lay sprawled across your bed.

It didn’t start like this, of course. The first kiss had been gentle, hesitant even—like Vash wasn’t quite sure if he was going to see it through at all, poised to flee at any moment. But neither of you could deny how right it felt when his lips brushed yours, an immediate wash of relief and of unadulterated want inundating you all at once. You’d been the one to crane up and bridge the gap, but soon Vash was crawling into your bed overtop of you, easing you back to lay flat as he succumbed to the same need you felt thrumming through your veins.

Your hands are tangled in his hair now—a gesture that earned you a pitchy, needy little groan from him as your fingers twisted through the blonde strands. It only seemed to make him more eager as he parted his lips against your own in a deeper kiss.

There’s something a little clumsy about it all, an eagerness and inexperience to every touch and graze. But it’s not the same as it was at first, no longer hesitant or wary—his reservations have been peeled away as surely as the clothes the two of you are wearing, until you feel nothing but his skin against your own.

Vash’s hands are as greedy and rapacious as his mouth; touching, grabbing, grazing anything he can reach. His calloused fingers cup themselves around the swell of your chest, squeezing lightly, and when you reward him with a little moan it stokes the flames of his curiosity, and his touch moves to the pebbled bud of your nipple next. He rolls it tentatively between his fingers, pinching ever so slightly, and when you gasp against his mouth, arching further into his touch, he makes his own little pleased sound of surprise before lavishing your other breast with equal attention.

His metal hand touches you more gingerly than the other, and he tends to favour the one made of flesh and bone. The contrast in sensations is a little disorienting—smooth, hard metal versus the life-roughened heat of skin on skin. It’s dizzying. You want more.

“Vash,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your lips are stinging now from the constant kissing. He’s scarcely left your mouth uncovered by his own since they first connected, but at your hoarse whisper of his name he pulls back slightly, watching your face for any sign of reproach.

“Touch me more, please,” you say to him, cupping his cheeks as he presses his forehead into yours, both of you sharing the same breath in the little space between you.

He makes a sound halfway between a grunt and a hum, nodding a little, and kisses you again as his hands slip further down your willing, waiting form.

If he’s surprised by the wet wet heat he finds between your legs, it doesn’t stop him. One finger and then two find their way inside you slowly; he moves in gentle thrusts and scissoring motions that have your jaw going slack. His palm presses against the swell of your clit, and each time your hips jump it grinds into the heel of his palm, earning a keen from the back of your throat.

“Feels good?” Vash trails kisses up the top of your cheek until his lips are by your ear. His breathing is laboured and the air of each breath is hot as it ghosts across your skin. Your tongue feels leaden, but you nod repeatedly, wrapping your arms around his neck and keeping him close.

“Yeah,” you finally manage to breathe out, “’s good.”

It’s even better when you feel the stretch of him pressing himself inside.

The sound that’s pulled from the depth of Vash’s broad chest as he carves his way into you makes your toes curl—high and sweet and desperate.

“’S hot,” he slurs, his hips giving a shallow, desperate thrust.

He’s needy, pulling you closer as he moves you how he wants you. He loops your knees up over his elbows, his mouth frantically finding it’s way back to yours as the weight of his entire body bears down on you.

The next thrust is harder, deeper. And the pace only increases after that.

The rickety headboard of your old bed knocks against the wall each time he brings his hips down against yours. It’s loud, but so is the sound of skin on skin, and you have the distant thought as the bed frame creaks that it sounds like it might splinter underneath you—but you don’t find it in yourself to care as the pressure in you core steadily builds, threatening to burst. It blinds and deafens you to anything but the pulse that pounds in your throat. It makes your fingers curl against the skin of Vash’s shoulder blades until your nails dig into skin.

He’s still kissing you, wet and messy and noisy as his tongue presses into your mouth. He never stops kissing you.

It's nice to be with someone. To be touched. To feel wanted and needed.

Especially by him.

Your eyes flutter open, and as though he can sense your gaze on him Vash’s do the same. His expression is heavy-lidded as he pants, a little drop of sweat sitting high on the edge of his blushing cheek. He smiles a little, a soft, gentle expression you’ve never seen before.

A tenderness in his gaze unlike any you’ve ever experienced.

The pressure in your core comes undone.

He takes your face in his hands as pleasure rips through you like a sandstorm, blistering and unescapable. He’s still kissing you. Keeping you so near. In the haze it’s hard to tell where you end and he begins, everything clouded into something thats both and somehow neither. Something new.

“Close,” Vash whines, grinding his hips down against your own.

Your muscles ache, the pleasure has worn you raw, and your lungs are pricking with the need for a full deep breath you haven’t been able to draw into them now for some time. But even so, you don’t want it to be over. Can’t bear the thought of being apart.

The headboard rattles a few more times, and then the pressure between your legs is gone as Vash pulls out and spatters his spend across your stomach with a long, low groan.

It’s hot. The mess on your skin, the sweat that clings to you, the paltry breaths of air you draw into your lungs. Even the sheets of your bed have absorbed the heat from both of your bodies, sticking to your skin as you collapse into them in boneless heaps, chests heaving and hearts racing side by side.

You tilt your face towards the boy crowded into your narrow bed beside you, and find him watching you expectantly.

“You okay?” he asks, brushing a piece of hair away from your eyes.

You hum, leaning into his touch.

Vash’s gaze travels down your body, eyeing the mess he’s made of you with wide eyes. He pops up suddenly, clambering out of bed and tripping clumsily over the sheet that’s fallen half-way off the mattress as he skitters out the door. You’re not too worried that he’s going far, considering he’s still stark naked, but you watch the doorway curiously as you wait for him to return.

When he does, he has a cloth in hand—still damp from your bath earlier in the evening. As gently as he can, Vash cleans you up; the cloth cool is against your sticky skin, and feels nice. Once he’s satisfied with his handiwork, he presses a kiss to the valley between your ribs, lifting his face to smile up at you.

You shoot him a feeble smile back.

He slips into bed beside you once more, crawling up towards the pillows and pulling the rumpled sheet up to your chins as he goes. He settles in, and with one sweep of his arm he tucks you safely against his chest, with your ear resting over his heart. His hand pats gently along the back of your hair down your spine, keeping you close to him.

Vash smells good. Clean and comforting. It makes you think of the place your mother told you about once. You wonder if he smells like that place, or maybe even better.

You wonder if he’s ever been there before.

You wonder if he’d tell you if you asked.

You open your eyes, though the effort pains you in your exhaustion, and you see him peering back at you. Vash’s lips pull into a smile, but it's one of the ones that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. An expression that you know is more for you than it is for himself.

You think the two of you have a lot in common, then. That maybe the two of you understand the same loneliness. The same feeling of being haunted.

Your ghosts live on in the trunk at the end of your bed and at the back of your cupboard, covered in dust, tucked away out of sight.

Vash’s live on inside of him, and it’s where he seems determined to keep them.

In that moment you know that even if you were to ask, he’d tell you nothing—and he’d do it for your own sake.

Tomorrow you’ll wake and the air will smell bitter and burnt, and he’ll be gone, but your boot will be mended, and the little pot of glue will remind you he was there. But tonight you’ll dream about the place your Mama told you about, and tomorrow you’ll still have the smell that clings to your sheets. So for now, the world smells different.

And that has to be enough.

#vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #vash x reader #vash x you #vash the stampede #trigun stampede fic #trigun stampede writing #writing

1K notes · View notes

peachsukii · 2 months

Text

『 ♡ 』 fem!reader thinking about her crush...

no pairings used, fill in the thoughts of your favorite man instead. 🔥

I keep these longings locked In lowercase inside a vault

there he was again, walking into the coffee shop without a care in the world. you knew his order by heart - he doesn't even have to tell you before approaching the register.

"thanks doll," he says with a wink, making sure his fingertips brush over your hand as you hand him his coffee. "see ya tomorrow."

infatuation floods into your cheeks while you smile, painting them with a pretty rose flush. your co-workers don't notice when you tighten your legs, hugging your thighs together at an attempt to keep yourself from shaking in anticipation.

the next four hours are a brutal test of strength.

Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk

your shoes are barely off when you enter your apartment before you're darting to the bedroom, desperate for release.

it's almost embarrassing how wild this man drives you.

almost.

the coffee shop uniform crumbles next to your bed, hair undone against the pillow while your fingers are rushing to the hem of your panties. you can't help but notice the wet fabric as your pointer finger finds purchase on your clit, a shock of pleasure surging through your system. it's unbearable at first, the bud too sensitive to touch until your free hand cups your breast, tweaking your nipple softly to disperse the lightning bolts coursing through your body.

there's no harm in this sea of lewd thoughts, it's only intoxicating satisfaction.

These fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me

he's gorgeous - eyes that illuminate the room and flawless skin with a body to die for. his features are etched into your mind, every curve of his muscles, angle of his jawline, thickness of his fingers...

oh god, his fingers.

you stuff two fingers into your soaked entrance at the thought, imagining that it would only be one of his. wanting to feel how he fills you up with such ease, molding to his burning touch until he moves up to two...maybe three.

you could take it, you're a good girl.

you've heard enough of his voice, the way he enunciates, to vocalize his praise in your mind. that's it princess... so good for me, doll... you open up so well for me... your sighs are so pretty.

the thought of his tongue running along the shell of your ear as he coaxes out your first orgasm has you squirming beneath your own fingers.

If it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

sweat has your back sticking to the sheets, the blaze in your abdomen hotter than hell itself. your fingers aren't reaching deep enough, aren't thick enough, to fuel your desire further - you're feeling too empty.

the nightstand wobbles intensely as you rip open the top drawer, favorite toy now in your sticky grip. you kick off your panties and drag the silicone cock down your belly, stopping shy of your drenched mess of a cunt.

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh only in my mind?

you wish you possessed unlimited hands - something to stimulate the yearning for touch, turning the daydream unfathomably realistic. extra hands to grip your thighs, dig blunt nails into your hips, push and pull the fake dick in and out of you for hours.

for now, you get creative with the fantasy.

you tap the silicone tip against your swollen clit, mimicking him teasing you before he slips inside of your tight hole.

look how wet you are, baby... just for me.

the moan that falls from your lips is voracious, begging yourself for more.

i suppose i can reward you with my cock after being so patient.

My bedsheets are ablaze, I've screamed his name, building up like waves crashing over my grave

the words swirl in your head as your juices coat the toy, the gratifying slurp of your pussy sucking it in to the hilt with no resistance. you clutch the base and begin with a slow, teasing and tantalizing pace, screwing your eyes shut to replace the dildo with the mental image of his dick filling you to the brim.

it's not long before your tempo increases, ferociously fucking yourself while slurring his name, mumbling curses while your release builds. the thread is pulled taut, threatening to snap any moment. your free hand moves back to your puffy clit, harshly pinching around it to push you over the edge.

you ride out your orgasm, continuing to massage your slick covered walls with the toy through the sensation, quivering from the adrenaline. cum drips from your used hole, dribbling down to your ass and staining your sheets.

Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

blissfully lying in your own mess, you let the dildo slip out of you and sit between your thighs, the sheen of your arousal glistening under the sunlight of your bedroom window.

does he masturbate to the sight of you, too? has he memorized your every curve, the shape of your face, and the silk of your voice? you can't help but picture him sitting in his own bedroom, white knuckling his cock with his pink tip beading with pre-spend to the thought of you - aching for a chance to touch you.

you sigh, wiping the back of your hand across your sweat covered forehead. a surge of guilt begins to settle in-between your trembling thighs...does this define you as an obsessed, lovesick fool?

no. not in the slightest.

it's been a month, there's nothing wrong with fantasizing. you think of it as manifestation, desiring something forbidden until it's graciously presented for you to take.

and one day, you'll take him back to your apartment and into your bedroom, where you can show him just how eager you've been for him.

maybe tomorrow, you'll finally give him your number on his coffee cup.

thank you taylor for another masterpiece of poetic smut to inspire this little drabble ♡

#x reader #fem!reader #x reader smut #reader insert #fem!reader smut #fem reader #x fem!reader #smut #x reader headcanons #☆.rei daydreams #sorry if this is too bakugo kirishima or eren jaeger coded lmao

79 notes · View notes

seventeenpins · 30 days

Text

a little domesticity

pairing: Tess x F!Reader word count: 2.3k summary: You discover it's Tess's birthday. You decide you want to make it special. Tess fingers you while you cook her dinner. Same universe as Drive Me Home if you like?? content/warnings: basically just porn, no implied age gap, this is so domestic!!!!, established but new-ish relationship, lil bit of daddy Tess, fingering, very mild degradation, no outbreak or pre-outbreak AU, pet names (baby, honey), Tess works at a high-powered but undefined job a/n: For @ozarkthedog 🩷 Congrats on your 11k, and happy birthday Ozzie!! You've given us so much with your celebration, but you should be the one getting gifts! I know this is pretty extraordinarily late (sorry, love) but I hope you like it 😚

You are determined not to have to make two trips. Tess's apartment is up five flights, the elevator is on the fritz, and your legs already ache from the gym yesterday. You want to do anything you can to not have to go back and forth.

Three grocery bags hang off your left hand and two on your right, slowly cutting off any remaining circulation. A bottle of wine and a gallon of milk are tucked into your elbows as you heave yourself up the steps. Grocery shopping is a truly Sisyphean task, and the slog up to the apartment only confirms this.

By the time you turn the corner past the fourth landing, you're cursing yourself. It's so much. You know your arms will be aching, but of course you're stubborn enough to overdo it.

Finally, you make it to the fifth floor landing, and Tess's door is the third on the right. It's inelegant, trying to keep the bags steady while shoving your hand into your pocket to dig around for your keys. Your fingers are verging on numbness, and right as you move the key to the lock, you fumble and drop it.

That's the moment you hear the phone ring inside.

It sends you into a rush, and in your haste, you drop half the bags and still don't manage to open the door before the ringing stops.

Instead, you swing the door open right as the beep of the answering machine sounds, a bunch of bananas and a bag of English muffins fallen at your feet.

A man's voice chimes out, tinny and a little distorted.

"Tess! It's Joel. Happy birthday! We're gettin' old, huh? Let's get dinner soon, on me. Tommy's wishing you well, and Sarah, too. I'll catch you later."

Then you hear the click of a receiver, and the machine stops.

You frown. Leave the groceries where they're sat and rewind the tape a few seconds. Hit play.

"'S Joel. Happy birthday! We're gettin' old, huh? Let's get dinner soon, on me. Tommy's wishing you--"

You click it off.

He definitely said Tess. And 'happy birthday'.

So why the fuck didn't Tess tell you it was her birthday?

You know it's not really a big deal. Maybe she's just not a birthday person. It wouldn't really surprise you; there's a nonchalance that she exudes that sometimes throws you off .

If you're honest, though, you love birthdays. The gift-giving. Getting to make a fuss over your loved ones. And, you reason, if the Millers can wish her well, then it's probably not a sore spot for her.

More than anything, you've been wanting an excuse to celebrate her. Maybe this can be it?

As you prop the door open and begin to drag the grocery bags in, as you scrubbing the produce and putting everything away, you allow a plan to form.

It's been a long day but a good day. Work was a series of tasks that required some creative problem solving, and Tess felt like a fucking magician the way she'd been kicking ass and putting out fires.

Trekking up the innumerable steps, she felt suddenly lighter when she remembered that you had offered to make dinner.

From the moment she turns the key in the lock, she immediately starts salivating.

"Babe?" she calls, shucking off her shoes and shrugging off her jacket.

"In here-" you call back.

A moment later, soft footfalls are padding into the kitchen, and she's slipping her arms around you. She rests her chin on your shoulder and surveys the scene in front of you both.

"Shit, hon, this smells amazing."

You do a happy wiggle against her and start pointing out everything in turn. "So, we've got garlic tossed broccolini. Parsnip ravioli in that one, only has a minute or so left. I'm just starting the sauce now, so it'll be a few minutes before everything's ready, but you've made it in perfect time."

"Ugh," Tess groans, appreciative, "You spoil me. What's the occasion?"

"OH, don't let me drain the pasta water without saving some."

"I got you," she promises, sliding past you to grab two beers from the fridge. She notices when your eyes linger on her hands as she pops the bottle caps. "Careful, don't burn-- whatever you've got on the flame there."

With a shake of your head, you roll your eyes. "But seriously, is that a real question, or are you testing me?"

She frowns. Hands you a bottle and takes a swig of her own, sliding back behind you. She presses against you and wraps her arms around your waist.

"What are you talking about?"

You grind your ass back a little more and she puts one hand on your hip, but now she's smiling at you, mildly puzzled.

"Do you know what the date is today?"

"Oh shit, did I forget something important?" she detaches. "Did I forget our anniversary?"

"You tell me." You nod your head towards the calendar hanging on the fridge. "I'll help you out, it's a Tuesday today. And we've only been together six months. And you brought me flowers for that, like, a week ago."

She stares at the calendar for a moment and then looks at you. Looks back and forth.

"I--"

She's frozen in an incredulous frown.

"Happy birthday, honey," you tell her.

"I can't believe I fucking forgot. And how did you know?" she laughs.

"Hah," you laugh, "Answering machine went off when I got in. Your friend, Joel, he was calling to wish you well."

She snorts. "Fuckin' Miller saves the day?" Then she looks you up and down. "And you, baby, you've definitely saved the day." She looks over the spread again and notices the counter covered in flour, the kitchenaid with a roller attachment, a piping bag nearly fully emptied, and various pastry cutters. "Shit, did you make all this yourself?"

"The ravioli? Sure did. Just wanted an excuse to spoil you."

Tess plants a kiss on your lips and you moan into her mouth. When you pull apart, you're panting.

"Now," you tell her, suddenly serious, "I prioritized dinner and didn't have a chance to get you a present."

"Oh, hon, you don't have to-"

You cut her off, waggling your eyebrows. "But you do still have someone to unwrap."

"Don't have to tempt me, honey," she grins.

"Just let me finish up with dinner-"

She has a different idea. "I bet you can finish up while I open my present."

You snort. "Be patient."

"I don't have to be patient--it's my birthday."

"Tess, I-"

She ignores you, pressing gentle kisses down the side of your throat.

She know's it's a guaranteed horny button for you, and she exploits that weakness mercilessly. You have to fight not to melt. Even so, you let your eyes flutter closed, bathing in the sensation and not wanting anything to stop or change. She lets you relax into it for a moment, before bumping her hip against you, nudging you forward.

"Go on, baby. Better keep cooking. I'm hungry."

You let out a deep breath and snap yourself back. You spark the cooktop and place down the sauté pan. (You prefer cooking at Tess's apartment. Hers has a gas range. Yours has electric.)

After checking the temperature, you place a stick of butter in the pan. Tess runs her hands up and down your sides at a leisurely pace. Just her touch is enough to make you weak kneed again.

She passes you a slotted wooden spatula and you start to push the stick of butter around, watching it sizzle and melt as Tess makes you melt. You hear the clink of her own belt before you feel her undoing the button of your jeans.

Your pasta timer dings and the moment is broken. You grab the pan and are about to drain it in the colander you have set up in the sink, but before you can tip it out, Tess stops you.

"Hold up, hon, save that pasta water."

"Shit! Yep, nearly forgot it."

You set a liquid measuring jug beneath the colander and let the pasta drain, before taking the pasta water and turning back to the melting butter.

Tess's hands are back on you, pulling down your zipper now. She shimmies your jeans past your hips, kneading your ass with one hand as she trails the other from your belly button lower and lower and lower-

You start to lose focus on dinner and can only pay attention to her.

Tess slips her hand down your front and gasps when she gets to your bare cunt, hot and wanting. You're wearing no underwear, clothed only in the curls between your thighs.

"Naughty girl," she praises, and you swoon as she starts stroking her fingertips along your cunt, collecting your wetness and smearing it on your clit before pressing harsh circles into you that make you shudder and squirm deliciously.

"Don't let the butter burn," Tess chides, and you blink your eyes open, reaching for the utensil and moving the last of the unmelted butter around the pan, watching it start to foam at the edges.

"What else do you need, hon?" she asks, "Got all your ingredients?

You glance around. The sage is there. The pasta water. Garlic. Pepper.

"Uh-huh."

"Good," Tess says, "'Cause I'm gonna need you to stay put and focus."

A surge of heat pulses through you and you feel Tess's breath on your neck, a delicious sigh.

You add sage leaves to the browning butter, savouring the sudden aroma as the sage begins to heat, releasing its fragrance.

Tess resumes her work, slipping your jeans down to your ankles and guiding you to step out, all the while you stir the pan.

As the sage sizzles in the butter, she presses a finger against your folds, finding your opening, and eliciting a gasp from you as she enters you with two long fingers.

Finding a rhythm, she starts pumping the digits, pulling whines and moans from you, pausing only to let you smash the peeled garlic with the palm of your hand against the flat of a chef's knife and mince it a little more. You toss it into the pan and, once the knife is out of your hand, she resumes.

Two fingers become three, and as you splash the pasta water in with the butter and sage and yelp as she picks up the pace.

"Love those lovely little whines you make for me. All those sweet noises, that's all for me, huh?"

"For you," you agree, another whine escaping.

"Messy fuckin' hole, taking my fingers so good. Such a good girl, baby," she praises, and you don't realise she's not referring to you until she says, "Look at her, gettin' all puffy and wrecked."

You let out another sound, this one closer to a growl. You can feel yourself beginning to drip down her hand as she fucks her digits into you, pressing into you so nicely, working you open, making your knees quake.

"Sweet little pussy opening right up for me. Think she can take another?

"Fuck, daddy, please-"

Trying to keep stirring while she works on you is a near impossibility. With a focus that can't be anything less than witchcraft, she smacks your cheek while you're moaning, eyes closed and keening.

"Don't let it burn," she scolds, and your eyes snap back open.

The sauce has started to thicken, and you turn down the flame so you can take a moment to grind yourself deeper onto Tess's hand.

"Wanna put on the strap?" you ask. "Want me to put on the strap?"

"I'd take either," she admits with a laugh, "But the dishwasher's running."

"Fuck."

"Did you just put the cycle on?"

"Yep. Are our dicks in the dishwasher?"

"Our dicks are in the dishwasher."

You let out a whine. She just maintains her pace and rubbing a fingertip in blinding, tight circles around your clit.

"Poor baby," she teases, "I barely have to play with you and your cute lil hole soaks me like a fuckin' whore. You're so fucking easy."

"Hnnnggg-"

"My pretty little slut. Just gotta give me one, baby, just one and I'll let you finish dinner."

Another whine.

"C'mon, honey, I feel you gettin' close. Clenchin' on daddy's fingers. Fuck, cum for me baby, let me feel you-"

She reaches around you and turns off the flame, the fingers of her other hand pumping faster and rougher. You're bent forward, gripping the counter for support, as you feel yourself start to tip over.

"Fuuuuckkk-" you cum with a cry, Tess's fingers working you through it as her other hand wraps around your waist, steadying you. You hear the splash of your release against the laminate floor as she keeps going, pumping her fingers fast and deep, hitting just the right spot, dragging your orgasm out longer than you knew yourself capable of.

It takes a couple of minutes, coming back down. You feel your slick cooling on your thighs and turn around to see Tess leaning against the hallway behind you, grinning wickedly as she licks her fingers one by one.

"You're gonna be the death of me," you tell her, and she slides back behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Not allowed to die. It's my birthday."

"Hmmph," you roll your eyes and begin to plate up.

The groan Tess lets out as she takes her first bite is more than worth it.

"Fucking fuck, honey, I mean- holy shit this is so good."

You grin. "Glad you like it."

"I know what I'm having for dessert," Tess smirks, waggling her eyebrows.

"Yeah," you agree, "I made you a tart."

"You're my tart."

You roll your eyes again. "I am, but I made one special for you. Dessert first, then you can eat me as much as you like."

Tess nods solemnly before breaking into another grin. "Thank you honey."

"Happy birthday, baby."

#tess servopoulos fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tess servopoulos x reader #tess x reader #tess x f!reader #okay it should PROBABLY be your birthday rather than hers but this is what flowed pls forgive meeeee

72 notes · View notes

spookyrea · 10 days

Text

face of gold, heart of coal (my cross to bear, baby!)

You and Loki have an agreement - just sex with absolutely no feelings. None. Nu-uh. Zero.

(Unfortunately you both signed that agreement with your fingers crossed)

Word count: ~2k

Warnings: fem reader - plot? what plot? p-i-v sex, oral (f receiving), hate sex (kind of. 'hate' if the definition of hate was 'longing so profound it makes you mad'.)

“If only our team could see you right now. Whoring yourself out to me. Your big, bad villain.”

“Not so bad,” you bit out. “You’re nothing but a lap dog.”

“Boo. Another lazy insult,” he snorted. “Big, though?”

He pulled your hand down to palm at the length of him, straining against the fabric of his trousers. You shrugged, even as your thighs clenched in anticipation. “Eh.”

Loki laughed, closing his mouth over yours in a wet kiss. “I seem to recall you singing a different song a few days ago.”

“Your memory is failing you. Dementia, maybe? That’s pretty common with men your age.”

His upper lip curled. He dropped your wrist to gather your skirt in his hands, hiking it up to your waist. “Hold this,” he commanded.

You bunched the fabric in one hand. With his hands now unoccupied, he traced the inside of your thighs slowly, tipping your hips upwards to get a better look at your clothed mound. Both of his thumbs slid over the cotton fabric of your underwear, reverently in comparison to the way he had demanded your submission. They pressed gingerly, barely pulling your folds apart before pressing them back, working in circular motions around your clit but not quite over it. His eyes were half-lidded, transfixed on the way his fingertips spread wide over your hips, on the twitch of your tense muscles, on how you gave yourself up to him angrily and willingly.

You stifled a whine, hoping he wouldn’t notice - but he did. Loki always noticed; every gasp, every lingering look, every shiver when his hand brushed over yours - he saw it all. He could read you like a book, something that both infuriated and secretly delighted you, to be seen and understood so completely.

Loki mimicked you, scrunching his face up in a patronizing pout. One hand rose to pinch your cheeks, holding your head still while he pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple. “Oh boo hoo. Woe is me. Please, Loki, have mercy.”

You hissed, digging your knuckles into his abdomen. He laughed in response, dragging his nose across your jaw before sucking a mark under your ear. Your voice came out thready despite your best efforts, a casualty of the way his other hand was drawing figure-eights across your thigh. “You cocky bastard.”

“Careful. You speak to me like that again and I might just leave you wanting.”

“You won’t.”

He dipped his head, laving his tongue over the junction of your shoulder and throat. His thumb slid to the side, tracing the damp seat of your underwear with lazy intent. “I won’t?”

“Nope.” You swallowed another embarrassing sound when the meat of his palm ground against you with delicious friction.

“What makes you so certain?”

You tilted your head; distracted as he was by marking up your throat, his hold on your face had loosened enough for you to get your lips around the webbing between his thumb and pointer finger. You scraped your teeth over the delicate skin, delighting in how his body tensed against you. “Because you want me just as badly.”

“You’re finally right about something. Looks like you do have some coherent thoughts in that pretty little brain of yours.”

“Asshole.”

“Tsk. Try harder. I’ll make you a deal - if you call me something creative, I’ll let you come tonight.” He pulled away, his head tipped ever so slightly to the left to admire his handiwork. No doubt your lipstick was smeared across your face at this point, considering how it stained his pale skin from the tip of his nose to the sharp point at the corner of his jaw. “I warn you though, mortal, I’ve been alive for many centuries. I’ve heard it all.”

“Monster,” you tried.

“Old news.”

“Duplicitous snake.”

“Boring.”

“Evil, traitorous coward.”

“It’s starting to look like tonight will only be about me, little thing.” Loki grinned, sliding the tail of his belt through the buckle. It fell open with a clatter against his thigh as he worked the zipper of his slacks down and pushed on your free hand, urging you to take him in your fist and pump him slowly.

“Lover,” you spit.

He paused. “Excuse me?”

“I said ‘lover’.” Even without his hand guiding yours, you drew your hand back and forth in lazy tugs, arousal pooling, hot and wanting, at the way his stomach jumped, muscles visible through his open shirt. “What a pathetic god. To love a human.”

His eyes crawled down, then back up the length of your body. Slowly, achingly slowly, he slipped from your grasp and sank to his knees in front of you. “Truly debased.”

You ran your fingers through his damp curls, heavy with the humidity of want. “It’s sad, really.”

He tapped the back of your calf, shouldering your leg until you draped it over his back, and pressed a loud kiss to your lower belly. “Clever girl.”

Loki pulled your panties to the side; you would have been embarrassed by the threads of arousal clinging to them if it wasn’t for the way his expression darkened, a clear reverence rolling off of him while his thumb slid over you, pulling your folds apart to get a better look. His pretty eyes were awash with desire, burning a hot and syrupy trail as they traveled from the mess between your thighs to your face.

You smoothed a curl out of his eyes and watched him tip his head, pressing a loud kiss just beside your clit. He took his time teasing his mouth over you, alternating between licking long stripes and sliding sloppy kisses over slick, heated skin. The hand around your thigh clutched you in a bruising grip, holding you against his shoulder like you might slip away if he let go. His other hand slipped between his own legs and worked slowly up and down his cock.

You tipped your head back against the wall. “You’re enjoying this.”

His grip tightened. “Shut up.”

Loki squeezed his eyes tight, desperation clear in the way he tipped his head for a better angle. He closed his lips around your clit and sucked, pulling a thready gasp from your chest. You felt a familiar coil between your hips, winding and winding as he worked you more urgently; occasionally you felt his forearm bump against your shin while he pumped his cock in time with rolls of your hips.

You grew delirious. Your legs shook, struggling to hold you upright. You planted your hand on his shoulder for support, back bowing off the wall with the force of your impending orgasm. Loki laughed against you, the sound humming over your skin in the most delicious way.

You found no relief in his mouth; he seemed only to wind you higher and higher but never to the edge. Your chest heaved, pleasure turning desperate and achy. You pushed on his forehead, tears welling in the corners of your eyes. “Stop. Loki, it’s not… I need…”

He paused, his mouth still pressed against you. His eyes scanned yours curiously, brimming with mischief, before he gave one final flick of his tongue. You clenched, hissing through your teeth, and squirmed away. His shoulders shook with laughter under your leg. Loki turned his cheek into your thigh and drew his wet chin across your skin, leaving an uncomfortable sticky path in his wake.

“Get -” Your order stuttered and died on your tongue when he bit down on your hip. “Get back up here.”

“So bossy.”

“You want me so bad, Laufeyson.”

“So, so badly,” he hummed mockingly.

You let him nudge his way between your legs, lining his hips up with yours to guide himself inside you. There was an initial pressure, that familiar press before your body yielded to him and he slid down to the hilt.

He groaned once his hips met yours and, privately, you agreed. There was something electric about him, as if he had rewritten the polarity of your nerves so they yearned in his direction. He was an asshole - arrogant, stubborn, untrusting - but there was such an aching kindness in the way his fingers trailed over your skin that it left you feeling raw and oozy.

A self-deprecating laugh hissed through his teeth when your fingers wound through the curls at the back of his skull. Very quietly, he murmured something against your skin.

“What was that?”

“I said I hate you.”

“Right.” His hips rolled against you slowly, testing you. “Come on, lover,” you goaded him on. “Fuck me like you hate me.”

He groaned. “One day you’ll let me make love to you.”

You gasped when he thrust into you, jolting you up the wall. He set a brutal pace, tugging your body down onto him with every sharp jerk of his hips. You twined your arms around his neck for support and tried to leverage your weight against him, shifting so he was angled to bump against that soft spot inside you that made your knees buckle. The sob that ripped through you when he finally connected seemed to spur him on, working him into a frenzy.

“One day you’ll let me do this in a bed. In my bed. No, actually, in our bed. Now, tell me what you feel.” Loki punctuated the order with a kiss, though you were both moving too much to get any further than a brush of open, panting mouths.

You nodded dumbly. “It’s- it’s good. So- oh, right there. Please.”

“Yes. Beg for me.”

Annoyance turned over in your belly. You scraped your teeth along his jaw. “Asshole.”

Loki pulled your body to a sudden stop, his cock buried to the hilt deep inside of you. His head cocked menacingly to the side.

“Hmm.” He gave an experimental roll of his hips. “You’re lucky you make the most fantastic sounds when you come. And I do so very, very badly want to hear them. So sing. Praise, this time, little mortal.”

His thumb pressed meanly against your clit. Each jerk of his hips against you made you bump against the calloused skin, a delicious but not-quite satisfying pressure.

“You want me so badly. I could have you eating out of the palm of my hand. But I’m merciful. I won’t make you do that.” Loki licked a hot stripe up the side of your throat. “I’ll just fuck you instead. Now come on.”

Your face scrunched up, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. You’d given up on stifling any sounds you made, letting broken, wanton sounds tumble from your mouth with each nudge of his thumb against your clit. Your chest ached, your breaths thready and gasping, barely sucking in air before it escaped you as a squeal or a sigh. Your thighs shook with the force of it all, body gone taut and boneless all at once.

You pulled him in as tightly as you could as you came, burying your nose in his throat, seeking some tether to ground yourself by. It was all too much - too hot, too sweaty, too bright, too good. You needed him to come. You needed him to stay. You needed, needed, needed.

Loki stumbled into his climax and stilled after a few more sloppy thrusts, winding his arms around your back to properly ensnare you. His breath licked over your skin and left goosebumps to rise in its wake.

You stayed tangled like that for an eternity, slowly winding down back to Earth in the other’s arms. Your fingers traced a shy path down his nape while his hands slid up and down your sides placatingly.

Eventually, he set you down on your feet. His hands smoothed down your skirt before tucking himself away in his slacks. Your voice was small as you watched him loop his belt back through the buckle. “I get closer and closer every day.”

“To what? First-degree murder?” He turned his face up to yours, a joking tilt to his brows. Something in your expression gave him pause, the smile melting off of him. He smoothed out the front of his slacks and then put his hand on your shoulders, leveling you with an unreadable look. “Really?”

You nodded mutely, turning your eyes to the floor. He tipped your face up to keep them trained on him.

“Ask me,” you murmured.

“Make love to me, darling.”

You paused, drawing the moment out. “Maybe. If you’re a good boy.”

He sighed, a long-suffering sound. “You vex me.”

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki smut #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki x female reader #SO MAD THAT IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO FIGURE OUT FORMATTING #im gonna have to get out of the habit of double tapping the enter key r i p #anyway found this in my drafts and completely forgot I wrote it lmao

124 notes · View notes

xomakara · 9 months

Text

Closet Fun

SUMMARY | Taeyong drags you into a closet for some fun quality time. PAIRINGS | Taeyong/Fem!Reader GENRE | smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, public sex, pet names RATING | Mature LENGTH | 2,344 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | This is the first time I wrote something about Tae lol. I hope it turned out better than I expected.

Bubu: Let’s have some fun together. We haven’t spent much time together. I miss you~

You scolded yourself as you walked down the hallways of your company. You were late, definitely late. You forgot about your date with Taeyong! You had a meeting with the creative department about your next album and were supposed to hang out with a few of the NCT members later today. You forgot to tell Taeyong ahead of time. You hoped he didn’t leave already.

You: Taeyong, did you leave already?

No reply.

You looked around the hallway and poked your head in a few of the studios, but no Lee Taeyong anywhere. You sighed. He must have thought you ditched him.

You decided to head home.

That’s when you spotted him walking down the hallway by himself, his dark hair disheveled and the first three buttons of his shirt undone.

“Taeyong!” You jogged towards him. “I’m so sorry! I forgot I had a meeting today, and I’m supposed to spend time with the boys. Maybe tomorrow?”

Taeyong shook his head and gave you a frown. “I’m supposed to be hanging out with Johnny and Doyoung tomorrow. They’ve been complaining that I’ve been ignoring them lately.”

You sighed.

You wanted to spend time with Taeyong.

You both had begun dating a little over a year ago and now that you were both busy with promotions, concerts and making music, you haven’t had time to properly go on dates. You had countless meetings with the company about your new album, while Taeyong was busy with NCT promotions. You’d try to catch him at lunch but he’s often whisked away by his members and you were often in conversations with other SM artists.

You both really needed a break.

He gave you a pout. You really wanted to just hug him and just spend some quality time with your boyfriend. You hated the idea of work always being the priority instead of your loved ones.

“This sucks, I really wanted to spend time with you today.” You thought for a moment. You could leave the boys alone for one day. Right? “I could tell the guys I have to stay late for work. They’ll believe me.”

Taeyong gave you his adorable smile. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go sweetheart.”

Before you both can take one step, you heard voices.

“Y/N-noona, where are you?” Mark yelled.

“We have to go soon!” Jisung yelled out through the hallway.

"Noona!" Haechan called out. "Where are you?"

“Aish, where could she be?” Jungwoo said to the boys.

You and Taeyong could hear the others’ footsteps getting louder and louder. Taeyong grabbed your wrist, and entered the nearest supply room, quietly closing the door behind you. The room was small and narrow, but it gave you enough room to move around just a little bit.

“I could have sworn I saw her with someone.” Jisung muttered.

"With who? One of the hyungs?" Haechan asked. "Thought they were busy?"

“Eh, I guess not. Let’s go.” Mark voiced out.

They walked away from the area. Both you and Taeyong sighed in relief. You listened to the footsteps fading away. Taeyong was behind you breathing on the back of your neck, his body touching yours.

Once you knew for sure that they were gone, you opened the door. You were about to open it wider until Taeyong stopped you. He pushed the door back close again.

You looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Why'd you do that?"

Taeyong gave you a playful smirk. He leaned in towards, his mouth near your ear as he whispered seductively. There was a hint of teasing laced in that sentence that made your knees weak. “Let’s stay here for a while. We can have fun here.”

“Doing what?” You asked but you kind of knew what he was up to. Taeyong was always horny and tended to slip his hands under your shirt on numerous occasions.

He didn’t reply, instead he licked your earlobe before biting it. You gasped and jumped a little. No, you couldn’t do this right here, you needed to set an example to the kids.

Even though you knew this was coming.

“N-no, Taeyong, we shouldn’t- ah!” Taeyong sucked on your neck, hard. He lightly pushed you back against the door, your back only facing him. He licked your neck and gave you a light kiss.

“Don’t worry Y/N. They don’t have to know our little secret.” He whispered before tilting your neck, sucking and biting it. His warm hand went under your shirt, and unhooked your bra. Once the bra was loose, he used his free hand to grope your breast, causing you to moan.

Shivery feelings were swirling around your body. His other hand went to your other breast and the most extraordinary sensation shot through your whole body, making you tense. You reached up to grip at his hair but not too pull him away as he lathered kisses on your neck.

As he continued to mark his territory on your neck, he started to play with your nipples, pinching and rubbing it with his thumb. Using his other hand to go down your skirt, he slowly touched the hem of your panties.

“You want me to stop, princess?” He asked, licking his lips. He went under your panties, and stopped when his fingers lightly touched your throbbing pussy. You didn’t answer but bit your lip and waited.

Taeyong put one finger inside of you. “Do you want me to stop, Y/N?” He asked again, massaging your clit with his thumb.

You immediately shook your head.

“N-no... Oh god, keep going, Taeyong.” He added another finger, pushing his fingers in and out of you, fast and quick. “Fuck!”

Taeyong used his fingers to roam through your now wet core, hitting your g-spot again and again. You moaned and tilted your head back. His fingers were doing magic inside of you. Caught into the moment, you didn't know how or when, but the next thing you knew, Taeyong turned your head to face him.

He crashed his lips into yours, his fingers still pushing in and out of you fast. He dominated the kiss, entering his tongue inside of your mouth. Taeyong's other hand roamed your body. You moaned from his soft touch, continuing on kissing him back urgently.

He took his fingers out of you and grabbed your waist. Taeyong broke away from the kiss, and picked you up, legs now straddling him around his waist. He pushed you hard on the door. You gripped his waist more tightly with your legs and drew his head down for a kiss.

You thought you heard him groan. His hands traveled you and you shivered when one traced the underside of your raised thigh and brushed along the edge of your buttocks.

He pushed you up a little so you were steady. Taeyong put his hands on your ass, and cupped it.

You tensed for a moment and you felt your pussy pulse with the need to be touched. "Taeyong..."

“Hold on babe, give me a minute.“ He told you as he unbuckled his pants. He needed to be inside of you. And you were wet and ready for him.

Before his hard length could enter your wet pussy, you heard voices and footsteps again. You both stopped and listened.

“Y/N- noona!”

“Yah, where are you?!”

“Sigh, don’t tell me she ditched us.”

"You think she's with Taeyong-hyung?"

"Can't be. Hyung has a schedule. At least I think he does."

The boys continued to stand in the hallway and talk. Jungwoo complained that he was hungry, Jisung and Haechan also agreed to the idea. Mark said he was bored and just wanted to sleep. It looked like they were not about to move for quite a long time.

“Screw this.” Taeyong whispered as he entered his length inside of you. You gasped and moaned.

This wasn't the first time you had sex with Taeyong. Your first ended up at NCT’s dorm when the rest of his members were out. Although it was the first time having sex in a public place.

“Keep quiet, princess.” He told you as he rocked his hips against you. You could feel the control in him, the tension, and you almost begged him to do it, to release whatever it was before you exploded. “You don’t want them to hear you moan. The fun would be ruined if we got caught.”

You bit your lip hard.

God this was hard, but Taeyong was making you feel really good. He went slow, steadying his pace so he wouldn’t cause too much noise. He got tired of it once he realized that his dongsaengs wouldn’t leave!

"You're so cute, babe. But get ready." He whispered in your ear and you began to blush furiously. "If they get their innocence ruined, it's not our fault."

Taeyong began slamming inside of you, hard, making you hit your body against the door. The feelings you were sitting in yourself were thrilling, but the look on his face was more so. You began to rotate your hips. He thrust fast and quick, continuing to hit your spot that made you melt and really moan his name.

“Did you guys hear that?” Haechan asked.

“Yeah, it’s coming from the supply closet.” Mark replied.

Taeyong didn’t care if the boys heard or not. It was their fault for not going away. He continued to thrust hard and fast inside of you. You bucked your hips and bit your lip hard.

It was getting too hard to control your moans. "Please..."

“Fuck, babe.” Taeyong whispered as he looked into your chocolate orbs. “Moan for me, princess. I want you to say my name. Scream my name.”

"N-no..." You shook your head. No, the boys were not going to hear you moan his name. You still had some dignity left. "Not with the boys there…"

Taeyong snorted. Fine, he was going to make you then.

You were about to come soon. He could feel your walls closing, tightening around his length. Using his right hand as he continued to thrust and hit your g-spot, he used his thumb to rub and pinch your hardened clit.

Oh fuck.

That sent you flying.

“Taeyong!” You screamed as you both came at the same time, causing the whole damn company to hear you call his name. "Oh fuck, Taeyong!"

“Oh my god, they're in there doing it.” Jungwoo uttered.

“Jisung, did you bring the recorder?” Haechan loudly exclaimed.

“No one told me anything! Why couldn't you bring it!?" Jisung countered. He covered his ears, not believing that his hyung was having sex in a public place.

"Because I never imagined this situation..." Haechan replied back.

"Y'all nasty, you hear me?! Ughh!" Mark yelled out.

After you had come down from your pleasure, Taeyong thrusted into you one last time before he released himself. He let you go as you both panted, helped you gain your composure and support your weak legs.

He adjusted his shirt and buckled his pants as you hooked back your bra up, smoothed down your shirt and fixed your skirt. You both looked at each other to see if you looked presentable enough. It was close enough although your hair was quite disheveled and his shirt was wrinkled.

Enough evidence on what took place in the supply room.

Knowing who was waiting for you both at the door, you opened it. Jungwoo, Mark, Haechan and Jisung were standing in front of the door with grins and shock on their faces.

“Enjoy your time, hyung?” Mark asked, looking at them up and down. "I hope you feel bad for corrupting Jisung’s innocence."

“Lucky.” Jungwoo mumbled under his breath. "If only I had a girlfriend."

"I think I'm scarred for life." Jisung voiced out, scratching his head. "Please get a proper room next time."

"You should be proud of yourself." Haechan pouted and crossed his arms. “You're so lucky I forgot my recorder. I was going to use it as blackmail.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “Like it wouldn’t matter. We still had fun. Right, honey bear?”

"Please, stop calling me that." You whined. Taeyong had such a weird habit of calling you by different nicknames. Who calls their girlfriend honey bear?

"Okay then... Momma Honey Bear~" He gave you a smirk and playfully slapped your butt. “You especially enjoyed it huh? Right, babe?”

"Oh shut up, Taeyong." You rolled your eyes and pushed his shoulder as he began to chuckle. "Although it was in a supply closet, at least we managed to spend some time together. Sorry about that, boys."

Taeyong chuckled before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss, the boys showing their disgust. "Why don't we spend time with the boys together? Dinner’s on me."

"Yes! Feed us hyung!" Jisung screamed out, happy that he was finally getting fed.

"CHICKEN!" Haechan yelled out as he skipped down the halls, Jisung running after him.

"Jungwoo, we should order the most expensive item and let Taeyong-hyung pay for it!" Mark called out.

Jungwoo turned on his hyung. "Good because you had us waiting for a long time."

Watching as the boys ran ahead, Taeyong wrapped an arm around your waist as you both headed to whatever restaurant the boys decided to drag you to. He kept looking at you, a grin on his face.

"Why do you have that stupid look on your face, Bubu?" You asked.

"Because you're my moon and stars." He boldly said. There he goes making you blush with his cheesiness. "I love you, babe."

"I love you, too." You leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek. "Now shut up and walk before the boys end up getting carried away and order everything on the menu. They eat a lot."

Taeyong chuckled and gave you a light squeeze. While you crossed the threshold of the restaurant, he leaned down and whispered, "But honestly, princess. Did you enjoy yourself?"

Hell, yeah you did.

#nct #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong smut #nct smut

295 notes · View notes

yaut-jaknowit · 1 month

Note

Begging you for some more smut with Mai’tuiudh. Could start off as angst and follow up from the same male soldier reader idea, thought it could be fun and I love your creativity (I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t kicking my feet the day it was posted.) And as always, drink some water and take care:D

Returned to Him Part 2

Pairing: Mai'tuiudh (male Yautja) x AMAB!Reader

Warnings: Hate sex, rough sex, seems mean but they love each other (promise), no prep, use of lube, lots of teasing, biting, blood (from biting), marking, knotting, mentions of breeding, Mai’s a possessive cunt, forceful cum eating.

Word Count: 2998

Summary: Shortly after you return from battle, Mai'tuiudh in on the verge of never letting out of his sit. He's damn near ready to kidnap you and take you to his ship. But, you were able to talk him down. Yet, he still presses the issues. He doesn't understand. He doesn't understand you are afraid. You don't know if you could survive out there. This leads to a heated argument.

Author Note: Please forgive me for how long it took me to get to you! But I hope to make it up with writing hate sex. Enjoy! Ehehehe

Masterlist

Ao3

After three days of bed rotting with Mai nearly refusing to move from on top of you, he finally allowed you to have some space. For an alien who sits alone in his ship for months, he’s a needy, greedy creature. He needs you. He wants you. He’ll stop at nothing to have you by his side for the rest of his life. Nearly going as far as kidnapping you and dragging you to his ship.

When he attempted that trick, you had to talk him down from fulfilling that idea. The life he wants to live with you, out in space, that’s too much of a leap right now. To leave everything behind was something you couldn’t just do without preparing first, talking about it.

Plus, there’s people’s lives in your hands. You work with your military brothers and sisters to protect this nation from any threat. To the point, you’ve even lost your arm for it. This far deep? You couldn’t just abandon your life without thinking about it, talking about it.

But Mai? He doesn’t understand. The lifestyle is completely different. The differences between livelihoods and cultures. He knows at a young age already, he’ll be exploring the stars one day, hunting. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t expect to even leave earth’s atmosphere at any time. Mai believes that’s complete horseshit.

“Come live with me. We can hunt together. Get away from here. We can be together,” Mai argues and giving you a desperate look. One he would deny until his days end. He’ll also deny the fact he was pleading with you, wanting nothing more for you to join him.

You groaned and placed down the spoon, the noodles being stirred enough. “Mai-“ you about faced on your heel “- I’ve told you already: I’m not ready.” Mai growled, face morphing with frustration. His nails dragged across the kitchen counter. “I’ve never expected to live out there. Who knows the dangers? Or the fact if I could even survive?”

Had he not thought about that? The two of you are completely different species. Could humans even survive beyond the atmosphere? Or would you just be confined to his ship? Those are the worries that hold you back. But Mai’tuiudh doesn’t understand this. Not when his life revolves around space travel.

As the ignorant male he his, Mai rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion and leaned against the counter. His one arm holding up his upper body. “Do you think I would take you out there if I didn’t know it was safe?” he snapped and glared at you, brows lowered.

“You know what, Mai! I don’t know. I know so little about you that it makes me nervous.” You threw up your hands. “You can’t get mad at me for randomly leaving when you do the same or you just show up in my room out of nowhere.” You dragged your hand down your face then gave him a pointed look. “You know out there. I don’t.”

Mai huffed and rolled his head again. Maybe he could find his brain while he’s doing that. “And I could teach you. I don’t know why you think this is such a big deal. It’s space. You’ll have me every step of the way. I’ll teach you the ways to protect yourself.” The blue Yautja made it sound so sweet. Like this was a life you’ve always meant to.

The frustration hit a boiling point inside of you. With less than a week to cooperate your life after loosing your limb and him hounding down on you like that, you snapped. You marched over to him and shoved your finger into his chest. “You know what?! I’ve had it. You are not even thinking about me. Just your fucking self.”

“You fight a meaningless war. If you join me amongst the stars, I can give you a reason to fight, to hunt. You would never have to worry about anything with me,” he argued and stepped forward. That forced you to step back. Mai kept pushing you until your back met the wall in the kitchen.

Both of your hands, metal and not, were curled into fists as you angrily stared up at Mai. “At least I fight for my country. What do you do? Kill and hunt people! Good people. They don’t deserve to die.” He hunts for trophies. Those trophies include people from your kind. Humans.

A growl echoed around you. The blue Yautja leaned down and got into your face. “You don’t seem to hate it when I gift said trophies to you.” The only human skull you accepted was sitting upon a shelf in your bedroom, above your bed. His growl morphed into a purr. One of his hands rested on your chest, pinning you effectively to the wall.

Other courting gifts were around the small space offered to you. A space that you only needed.

Blood instantly ran south, your cock twitch in the confines of your pants. “I hate you,” you snarled at him with less fire than before.

Mai smirked an alien expression and brushed his lower mandibles against your jaw. His hand slid up to ensnare your throat. “You don’t. Not when I’m balls deep in your ass,” he purred into your ear. You couldn’t help the shuttered that controlled your body for a moment. Your heart beat increased, thundering under his fingers.

“I don’t know wh-what you mean,” you sputtered and attempted to keep your angry façade on. Yet, when his knee nudged between your legs, it was hard to focus on nothing more than the pleasure he was creating with little touches. “You kill people. You hunt people.”

“And?” he dismissed with smug look still on his face. The blue Yautja jerked his knee up. You instantly grinded down on it. “Clearly, you don’t mind I hunt your species. That I take their skulls. Like I could do to you at any moment, but I don’t. Because you’re my mate.”

Fuck, you were losing yourself so quickly. You reeled back your thought and tried to remember the current argument. “I can’t just… just leave my home. This is all I know.” You grinded your hips down, your cock beginning to harden and growing a bulge in your pants. A noticeable bulge that Mai reached down cupped. You grunted, teeth clenched shut for the moment. “I hate you.”

“You say that as if your dick isn’t twitching against my hand,” he taunted and squeezed your shaft till it nudged a painful degree. He pulled the limb away and only offered his thigh to rut against.

“You caused this!” you snapped at him, jerking your head forward to get into his space. Yet, the hand still pinning your neck to the wall prevented that. “This is all your fault.” The inside of your pants were starting to grow sticky the longer this went on. He growled and crowded your space against with his face in yours.

His upper mandibles widened to press his snout to your nose. “It’s your own destruction, little one.” You pressed your nose harshly to his snout and glared daggers. Until, he twitched his thighs between your open ones. The harsh expression on your face instantly melted away as you moaned and began to pant.

The strength you once held fell away. You leaned back against the wall and kept rutting your hips down on his thick thigh. “I hate you,” you groaned and let your eyes drift shut. The Yautja chuckled and trailed his tongue from your jawline down your neck once his hand was out of the way. His muscle left behind a wave of goosebumps. You shuttered in his hold and reached for his shoulders.

Your hands were snatched up and pinned above your head before you could register the movement. “You don’t get to touch. Not with that attitude.” Heat from both desire and anger flared its ugly head inside of you. You pulled on his hold but he was an unmovable statue.

Mai grasped the front of your pants and swiftly tore it off of you. You yelped as your cock met the cool air of your apartment. You squirmed in his hold, rubbing your hard shaft against his thigh the best you could in this position. The head leaking pearls of white beads. You couldn’t help the whine when he refused to touch you further.

“You’re such an ass. Fucking teasing me when you can see how hard I am,” you spat at your mate who only smirked in your face in return.

A chuckle erupted from his throat. Mai squeezed his hand around your captured wrists then dragged his other hand down your torso. He purposefully ran a talon over your already perky nipple. You had to stifle a moan to not give him the satisfaction. His sharp nails left goosebumps in their wake. He stopped just shy of your aching cock.

“Look at you. Poor thing, just making such a mess,” he teased and palmed at the area above your dick. The skin still slightly sensitive due to how thin it was. You rutted up, cock slapped against your torso. “A need little ooman, desperate for my touch.”

Fire flickered alive in your eyes. “Fucking touch me, Mai! I swear to god,” you demanded and pulled at the makeshift restraints. Yet, his hold didn’t falter.

He used his thumb to rubbed over the leak tip of your cock. The sudden, intense pleasure had your breath hitching and back arching off of the wall. Then, the touch was gone. You whined and jerked your hips forward, demanding for more. “Asshole. Ass! Hole!” He just brought his thumb up to his face and licked off the bead of precum staining the finger.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fucking your asshole soon enough.” If you had the chance, you would strange him for that retort.

The blue Yautja grabbed at the leftover clothing still hanging off of your hips and tugged it off in one clean pull. Your lower body was free from anything covering it. He pulled his knee from between your legs which caused you to whine. Next, he let go of your hands, his own finding their way to your waist. They were massive, easily engulfing your hips.

One of your hands grasped at one of his tresses, the other finding a place on his shoulder. Then, Mai lifted you off of the ground. Your thighs pressed tightly to your chest, effectively pinning you in place. It only took on arm to hold you up while the other fumbled with his waist band. The Yautja was able to pull it down enough for his engorged cock to slap against his toned abdomen.

“Is this what you’ve been wanting this entire time?” He ran the tip of his own leaking cock around the tight rim of your asshole. You tried to push down enough so the very tip could push inside of you, but that failed.

“You know what I fucking want.” Mai purposefully teased you by sliding his cock between your cheeks, rubbing his slick and scent all over you. He was just as hard as you were. The two of you desperate for one another.

“Might need to remind me again,” he purred, head bowed as he watched himself scent mark you. You would smell like him for the next upcoming weeks just from this.

From his belt, he popped open a bottom and dosed his hand a little. The cold touch of lube around your puckered hold had you squirming his hold. Despite your anger for him in the moment, he wouldn’t do a thing to harm you when you didn’t consent. He did his cock next and lined up the head.

“Still hate me?” he snickered, both of his hands returned to the back of your thighs.

A glare continued to be set on the Yautja. “Fuck you.” Your head tipped back when the Yautja shoved as much of his length he could on the first thrust in. He stretched you out nicely, only able to fit half at first. Something he had to remedy swiftly.

Mai pulled back till the head was still lodged inside before surging forward. His entire shaft finally fit perfectly inside. His hips were flushed with yours, cock twitch deep inside your channel. You moaned and pulled on his tress, gaining a grunt from the alien. Mai’s hands tightened for a moment as he forced himself to stay still. “I prefer it when I’m fucking you instead,” he purred deeply, torso flushed with yours. Your cock trapped between the two bodies. The pressure adding a nice hint of pleasure to this feast.

With him deep inside of you, your resolve finally fell away. The anger that hung on you washed away. You tugged on his tress and pulled him towards your face. “Fuck me, please,” you begged him and pressed your forehead against his in a soft gesture.

“Happily.” Mai found the perfect rhythm and angle to hit your prostrate with each harsh thrust. He claimed you like many times before, knowing your body better than you did. His size offered you the ability to feel his veins each time he pulled out.

Your mate leaned down and latched his fangs onto your neck with a growl. One of your legs was leg go to hook around his waist instead. With his newly freed hand, he wrapped it around your engorged cock and teased the tip of his thumb. You smacked your head against the wall, the pain quickly forgotten about. “Mai!” you called his name in surprised, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulder.

His fangs dug deeper into your neck, not yet piercing the feeble skin. “Good boy. Keep begging. You’re mine, mine to fuck, mine to breed. You’re never allowed to leave.” The teeth on his inner mouth sunk into your flesh, drawing both a cry and blood in the same second. “I’m keeping you on my ship. Never allowed to leave me again.”

All of his words went over your head at the growing pleasure boiling in the pit of your stomach. Blood ran down from the new mark he left on you, continuously marking you as his. Forever. He snarled a deep tone and quickened his pace. His rough hand slickened with lube moved at the same pace, keeping up the speed.

The double assault turned your brain into a puddle. He ran his teeth down your neck to your shoulder and snapped his jaw shut. More blood dripped from another wound he created.

“You’re pauk-de mine, little one!” he snarled and pinched the head of your cock. More precum leaked out to stain his fingertips.

This time, he forced his fingers into your mouth and made you taste yourself on them. They were shoved to the back of your throat. You gagged on them, throat tightening around them. “Yeah, you take anything I give, don’t you?” He had unlatched from your shoulder and licked at the shell of your ear. The taste of your own precum salty on your tongue.

Mai’tuiudh pulled them out and resumed to jerking you off. The saliva on his fingers adding to the slick covering your shaft. You mewled. Your metal hand still holding onto his tress while your flesh one gripped his shoulder with a deadly hold.

“Are you going to come? Already?” He could feel the telltale signs of your muscles pulsing around his thick shaft. Not that he was doing so hot either. His knot already expanding, waiting for his seed to spill into you awaiting body.

“So-so are you,” you retorted with a snarky response and kept panting. Your head rolled back, exposing the column of your throat to him. Blood already stained your skin. His teeth have already laid their claim on you.

A chuckle escaped from the alien. “Yeah, yeah I am. Because I know I’m going to knot you and fill your ass with my seed. I’ve marked you, my mate.” By gods grace, he was good at that.

Close to edge, he focused solely on your tip with short, quick jerks. You were instantly spurting cum all over his hand and chest, running down his toned abs. Your eyes rolled into your head as every muscle tightened and locked down on his still pounding cock.

“That’s it, good boy. Coming around me. Yeah,” he said with a breathy tone and rested his forehead against your shoulder. “You’re going to take it. You’re going to take every drop or I’m going to fuck it back into you. Don’t you dare waste a single drop.” His pace quickened, throwing you into oversensitivity. You tried to squirm, anything to get him to ease up or at least stop touching your cock. But, Mai get’s what he wants.

With one last thrust, he buried his knot passed your tight ring of muscles and filled you with his seed. He groaned deeply, body twitching. His cock throbbed, pulsing as his seed fills you. Not a single drop allowed to drip pass the knot sealing everything inside of you.

You groaned and let your eyes fluttered open once he stopped twitching. A lopsided grin washed over your features. Mai picked up his head to look down at you and mess he made of you. A grunt sounded from the giant. He leaned down and rubbed his forehead to yours in a sweet manner. “You always look so good with me knotted inside of you,” he chuckled and laved his tongue over the marks on your neck and shoulder.

Pain shot across the marred skin. You couldn’t help the whine that sounded from the back of your throat. He kept licking, silently telling you his apologies. Not that he meant them when he would do them all over again.

Smoke filled your senses. Your eyes snapped wide, head whipping towards the kitchen. Shit! The spaghetti!

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #predator x reader #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Mai'tuiudh #Mai

99 notes · View notes

ageofbajabule · 9 months

Text

Curtain Calls | Sam Kiszka

Sam Kiszka x F! Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (F! and M! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (WRAP IT UP PLEASE), Cockwarming

Masterlist

Want to join my taglist? Fill this form out!

Author’s Note: Hello my lovelies!! Here it is, the highly awaited request! Inspired by this anon, as well as having this moment included by this lovely anon. Also sorry if its poorly edited :(

Everyone was scattering around the hallways, the show was in approximately 45 minutes. Josh and Danny had already gotten their makeup done, and ready for the show. Jake had you touch up his eyeliner, and straighten out his new suit.

“Where is your brother Samuel?” You shook your head, Sam always got ready last minute. Even when it came to makeup, you were always yelling at him for being late for his makeup session.

“Probably snoozing with Rosie in the greenroom.” Jake shrugged, chuckling softly.

“Ugh…” Your feet began dragging you near his greenroom, knocking loudly. “Samuel Francis Kiszka, get your ass in the dressing room.”

Hearing a groan from the other side, “I’m coming Y/N.”

You huffed making your way to your station, everything was already set up to put his makeup on. And you had hoped he was smart enough to put his suit on, since by the time you would finish with him he would only have a few minutes till they had to be on stage.

Surely enough you hear footsteps making way to you, turning around your met by the handsome brunette. And he was indeed wearing his suit.

“Wow, you actually listened for once…” You clicked your tongue.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam sat in the chair looking at you.

“Sam I’ve been working on tour with you these past two months, how are you still forgetting to show up early enough.” You started to prime his eyes, before getting the eyeshadow palette in your hands.

“I’m sorry, I'm just still new to all of this.” He slouched a bit.

“Sit upright, I need to make this look perfect.” You poked his shoulder.

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked at you, in response you roll your eyes.

Sam always did have the younger sibling personality that everyone would talk about. Sometimes you found it utterly annoying but deep down, you found it cute about him. But he was in fact an adult, who just liked to have his childish fun antics.

The relationship between the two of you this tour had been wonderful. Anytime there was a small break between shows, he’d take you around the cities or small towns to show you his favorite places. He even had you join him on a small vacation to the Carolina’s with Rosie.

You tried to get out of it, but he was consistent with getting you to join him. And you figured if you said no, you felt that would’ve changed your relationship and made work awkward. The only reason you didn’t particularly want to go, was simply that you had feelings for Sam.

There had always been casual flirting between the two of you. But nothing more than that, in fact the one time in the green room the two of you had fallen asleep on the couch and were woken up by Jenny. She was another makeup artist for the guys, she mostly worked with Josh and Danny but you would help assist her.

Ever since then, Sam and you have talked more. Sending recipes to one another, he even taught you how to make pickles. Sam was just a kind hearted man, that you truly didn’t know how to express your feelings to him.

“So, are we going with what we’ve been doing? Or are we taking a new approach tonight?” You looked through your palette and the liquid eyeshadow you had.

“The usual…” He said softly, taking a sip of his Topo-Chico.

“You know, I really think we can get more creative…” You smiled softly, applying a layer of the glittery liquid eye shadow to put on his lids.

“You’re the mastermind here… Not me.” He chuckled softly.

“Maybe in the next show we’ll try something new. If you’re up for it that is.” You smiled at him softly.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” He smiled softly his cheeks turning a rosy tone.

You giggled softly, grabbing a palette, taking a brush and dapping it into the silver shadow. You gently apply it to his eyelids, dragging it out, blending it softly into the underlayer.

“You’re really good at this ya know?” He kept his lids closed, fearing you would scold him for opening them while you worked on his look.

“I’d hope, I didn’t go to beauty school for nothing.” You giggled softly, grabbing another silver shadow packing it onto his lid.

Earning a chuckle from him, “Hard work pays off.”

You smiled softly, finishing the rest of his eye makeup. “Should I add rhinestones?” You pulled away from his face grabbing the pack of rhinestones.

“Yeah, might as well. Can’t out-do Josh though.” He smiled softly looking in the mirror at your work.

“Josh creates his own look before even having Jenny or I do his makeup.” You giggled softly, applying makeup glue to the rhinestones applying them gently to his cheekbone.

“He likes to be prepared, I guess.” He chuckles, you smiled back to him finishing up his look with about 15 minutes left till they hit the stage.

“Well, what do you think?” You asked as you cleaned up your workspace.

He stood up, looking at himself in the mirror. “It looks great, as always Y/N.” He smiled, turning towards you, his stare focusing towards your tits.

“Sam… my eyes are up here.” You snapped your fingers at him.

“You wore that top purposely. I know you took your sweatshirt off before I came in here. Don’t act all innocent. You wanted me to stare at your tits, didn’t you?” He chuckled softly.

He knew you all too well, you always wore a light sweatshirt no matter what. Sue me is what you thought to yourself. You couldn’t deny the attraction you had towards Sam. In fact your feelings had only gotten stronger towards him after the small trip you took with him.

“No… I just got hot.”

“Uh huh… I’m sure that’s what it is.” Sam drags his finger up your thigh, moving it slowly towards your center. The one day you chose to wear a skirt to work, and he pulls that stunt.

You stop him, grabbing his wrist “You at least gotta kiss me first.”

“Say less.” Sam straightens himself, putting both hands on the side of you, pressing you up against the counter, trapping you in.

“I was-“

“Look at you stuttering angel. Don’t get nervous now.” He smirked at you.

Sam looks deep into your eyes, leaning forward. You move your head a bit. “Playing hard to get are we? Or is that you retreating because you’re scared you might like it.”

Sam goes to move away but not before you pull him in tightly for a kiss. He places a hand on your waist pulling you closer to him deepening the kiss.

That is when you hear a knock, disrupting the kiss. The two of you break apart from one another.

“5 minutes till show!” Richard yelled through the door.

“Fuck…” Sam sighed softly, resting his forehead against yours.

“You should probably go, don’t want to be late to the stage.” You giggled softly.

“Josh already was, what would the difference be if I was.” He laughed softly.

“The difference is he is vocals, and can at least sing off stage. Whereas you play the bass and should be on the stage already.” You shoved him lightly to get him towards the door.

“Don’t think this is over…” He rubbed your cheek softly with his thumb.

“I’ll be on the sides cheering for ya Sammy.” You blushed.

He smiled, pecking your lips softly before making way out of the room. You sighed softly, shaking your head. Did that really just happen?

You cleaned up your workstation, getting everything packed up to be set on the trucks before making way to the side stage to catch the next song after the opening.

The guys weren’t kidding when they said they liked to blow shit up. The shows were always electrifying and exciting. Keeping the fans on their toes for what was next. Sam running back and forth between keys and bass.

It was absolutely amazing to see them live their dreams, and of course you were to. When you had been asked to be a part of Greta’s team you were absolutely thrilled after seeing Josh’s looks for the Dreams In Gold tour, not only that Jenny had put in a request for you to be a part of the team. She had liked your technique in makeup.

After an exhilarating show, you make your way back to Sam’s dressing room with makeup remover and cleaning cloths to remove Sam’s makeup after his show. He always had you helping him as he claims he doesn’t really know what to use, or what skin care products to apply afterwards.

But you lately have been finding it to become an excuse for him to spend more time with you. And after what happened earlier this evening, there was no denying it now.

Sam came into the room, locking the door behind him pressing you against the counter immediately pressing his lips against yours.

You were taken back a bit, but wrapped your arms around his neck kissing him back hungrily. It was like you were both starved and deprived of one another.

Tangling your hands in his hair, you tugged slightly earning a groan from him. Letting you slip your tongue into his mouth, exploring it for a bit not until you felt Sam’s hard-on pressing against your thigh. Earning a moan from you. He was lengthy, and average in girth from what you could feel.

“Sammy…” You whisper against his lips, panting softly.

“Angel, please…” He said with honey in his voice.

“Don’t stop…” You blushed, kissing him again, as he reaches to pull your top off. Lifting it over your head, breaking the kiss just for a moment. He then returns back to kissing you, while groping your breasts with his hands.

Moaning into the kiss, you feel his dick throbbing against your thigh. He wanted this just as much as you did. You began to palm him through his pants, he bucked his hips forward from your touch. Causing you to giggle softly.

“Eager aren’t we?”

“I’ve been dreaming of this ever since that trip…” He muttered under his breath.

“Then I guess all this pent up sexual frustration will make this worth the while.” You smiled softly, as his hands wrapped around you back to unclasp your bra.

He ran his hands over your shoulder and down to your breasts again, massaging the one with his hand and taking the other into his mouth. He licked over the mound of your hardened nipple, sucking and biting softly. Earning nothing but words of pleasure from you.

“Sam…” His name falls off of your tongue like sugar.

He looks up at you with his brown eyes, pupils blown lust filled. You bite your lip from the sight, as he removes his mouth using his other hand to pinch your nipple softly.

“What baby…” He smiled softly.

“I need more…” You tilt your head back slowly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you angel…” He smiled, kissing your lips softly. Moving you towards the couch in the room.

Once the back of your knees hit the couch you, Sam stood above you smiling down at you softly.

“You better remove those pants, I don’t think you want to be questioned on how they got dirty…” You giggled softly tugging lightly at his satin pants.

“They get dry cleaned anyways…” He chuckled lightly, removing his pants, leaving him in his briefs. His cock strained against the fabric. You felt your breath hitch in your throat from the sight.

Sam knelt down in front of you, moving his hand over your center. You had soaked through your panties already, practically pooling in them. He ran his fingers across collecting some of the arousal.

“You already made such a mess… Should I help clean it up?” He looked up at you, placing his hand on the hem lining of your panties.

You nodded your head fervently, “Please…”

He smirked, pulling them off of you, putting it with the rest of the discarded clothes. He placed your legs above his shoulder’s his face coming close to your center. You could feel him breathing against your thighs, causing goosebumps to rise.

Sam began kissing the insides of your thighs, biting softly leaving marks behind. Your head lolled back, as he licked a strip up your center. Causing a whine to slip from your lips. He continued to lick slowly, and languidly.

Your hips bucked forward against his face, causing his nose to brush against your clit. Making another noise slip past your lips. He held your thighs tightly, getting to work quickly. He flicked his eyes up at you watching the faces you made as he ate you out. He slipped two fingers inside tightening around him, as you were already close to the brim of your first orgasm.

He started to pay more attention to your clit, sucking and licking it more than before. Earning pornagraphic sounds from you, trying to keep your voice to a minimum as to not alert anyone potentially walking by the room. You felt the band start to break.

The next head nuzzle Sam made, had been the pushing point of your orgasm. Spews of, Oh fuck, Sammy… leaving your lips as he calmed you from your high. Your legs tremble above his shoulders as he slips away placing them down.

He looked back up at you, your arousal covered his lips. “Come here, taste yourself.” You met his face kissing his lips roughly. He kissed you back, biting your lip softly.

“Tastes like sugar…” He smirked against your lips.

“Sit…” You stood up looking at him.

Sam nodded, taking a seat on the couch. You knelt before him pulling his boxers down his legs, throwing them with your pile of clothes. His dick sprung up, hitting his abdomen. He was painfully hard, throbbing and some pre-cum spilling from the tip.

You moved your hands up his thighs slowly, and wrapped your one hand around him pumping him slowly. His mouth agape, letting out a quiet groan. “Y/N…”

“Don’t worry Sammy, I’ll make you feel good.” You blushed softly.

He nodded his head, caressing your cheek with his hand acknowledging you to continue. And so you do, licking the tip slowly teasing him. He shuddered underneath you, giggling softly. You wrap your mouth around him, inching your way down as you take him in. Careful not to make yourself gag, he let out another groan.

You moved your hand downwards to Sam's balls, gently cupping your hand around them, moving them around in your hand. He huffed, his head rolling back.

“Fuck angel…” He closed his eyes, feeling you work on him.

You hummed as you continued to bob your head, swirling your tongue around his shaft. Earning praises from him as you continued your little moves, getting him closer to release.

That’s when he tapped your cheek with his fingers. “Not yet, I want to fuck that pretty cunt.”

You removed your mouth from him, a string of saliva as you continued to pump him with your hand. You straddle his waist lining yourself up with him.

“Don’t worry, I’m on the pill.” You smiled softly at him, before sinking down on his length. Gasping as he bottoms out in you.

“Like fucking velvet…” He grunts, grabbing your waist softly.

After adjusting to his length, you started to ride him slowly. Wrapping your hands around his neck, he moved his face towards your breasts paying close attention to them as you started to gain some momentum.

He latched his mouth onto your right breast, licking and sucking on your nipple. Biting softly, earning moans from you. Starting to rotate your hips in figure eights, Sam starts to moan the vibrations against your breast making you wetter.

“Shit, Sam…”

He removed his mouth from your breast, cupping your face with his one hand. “Come on baby… I know you're close.”

You nodded, starting to bounce more on his cock. Everytime you would come down, he’d meet you with a particularly hard thrust, sending you over the moon.

Sam then held your waist tighter, picking up the pace by thrusting faster and harder into you. You pressed flush against his chest, running your hands into his hair pulling slightly as pornagraphic sounds left your mouth.

You felt yourself getting closer, and by Sam’s breathing you could tell he was near as well.

“I’m so close…” You moaned into his ear quietly.

“Let go… I'm almost there. I want to feel you all around me…” He groaned softly, rubbing circles on your clit.

Within the next minute you went into overdrive. Praises flew from your mouth as you clenched around him, seeing colors as you came. “Sam…” Your head rolled back.

“That’s it baby…” He moaned softly, within a couple more thrusts that became faltered and slow. He was spilling his release into you.

The two of you sat there on the couch, chests pressed against one another. Sweaty, and panting as you both came down from your high.

“That was…”

“Exhilarating…”

You giggled softly, kissing his cheek.

“Oh, Sam… Your makeup...” You went to move, but he kept his grip on your waist keeping you from moving.

“Sam.” You looked at him.

“Just let me stay inside a little longer. You feel like home.”

As He softens inside of you. And you can’t say no to such a pretty face, so you obliged.

With his strength, that surprised you he had stood up holding you not slipping out of you. Moving over to the chair where you had the makeup wipes and remover to clean his face.

“There, now you can take care of me.” He chuckled softly.

You blushed and started to remove the makeup off of his face while you sat there as his little cock warmer….

After cleaning him up, you moved off of him, wincing from the loss of him.

“Come on, let’s shower. I’m tired.” You motioned to him.

He stood up, following you to the shower off the right of the room. Then you heard pounding on the door.

“Next time, can you do that in the goddamn hotel!” A crew member yelled.

You and Sam looked at each other busting into fits of laughter. You blushed slightly from embarrassment.

“Well… I guess we’ll have to work on that pretty girl.” He pulled you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind the two of you, pulling you in for another kiss.

Finished

Taglist-

@lyndszee @fkfearandliveyourlegend @starcatcherry @hi-hi-hello11 @myleftsock @thunderstomp-and-tequila @sinsofstardust @holybananafuck @thecoldwind @gretasfallingsky @laneygvf @sacredthefran

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van smut #gvf smut #sammy kiszka #sam x reader #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka #sam gvf

159 notes · View notes

jadeee · 5 months

Text

Living with Nanami - Part 2

feel free to read part 1 here 🛋️ I poured my heart into the first one and what do you know, I did the same thing here. this is incredibly long so consider youreself warned.

Not a lot of pillows on the couch or bed. It's just not practical. Honestly, he doesn't really care too much about this so he lets you have free reign. As long as it's comfortable enough to relax on, he's happy.

If you're like most people, your plants are barely surviving. They only get water when you remember. You don't think much about re-potting them, fluffing the soil, or moving them toward the sun from time to time; so, that unintentionally becomes Nanami's part time job. He can'r just leave them to die! Because then you'll complain, then buy another plant only for it to wilt within a matter of days.

The routine he develops is actually quite nice. He takes care of your plants every Saturday morning while you're still in bed - wiping their leaves of dust, checking how damp the soil is, looking for pests. When you comment on how well they're growing he simply says "Yes, they are," feeling a bit of pride swell in his chest.

Self-insert: One night, you two paint some terracotta pots together. Nanami isn't really sure what he's doing. He's not very artsy or creative; it comes so naturally to you and he's a bit envious because you make it look easy. The corner of his mouth was tight as he dragged the paint brush across the fragile pot in his hand. When he pulled back, he eyed it with obvious disappointment. {** pls read the footnote to hear the inspo behind this}

You sensed your husband's uneasiness like an incoming storm. "Ken, let me see." your voice was soft as you leaned over and he turned his handiwork toward you. Your eyes tried to make sense out of the shapes and lines.

"It's supposed to be an animal."

"... oh..."

"Is it really that bad?"

Heat filled your face "What?! No! It's," you studied the piece "abstract."

A soft grumble left him then but he perked up when you grabbed his artwork from him then started to add to it. After a moment, you flashed him the newly improved piece which was another little creature by the animal along with your shared initials. A remnant of a smile flashed across his face.

If you read part 1, do you remember that special framed object I mentioned? It's actually a memento from one of your earlier dates. You're cleaning your purse out one day when Kento walks over and notices an old receipt. He's a bit surprised when you don't throw it out. A smile forms when he hears you say "It means a lot to me." Because it's personal, it's in the bedroom away from prying eyes. Whenever he looks at it, he remembers that moment and it makes him feel warm, safe... loved.

Please don't hang those pictures and things on your own. He doesn't want you to accidentally fall or hurt yourself, so he prefers to do it. Maybe it's just me but I get the feeling these would be perfectly hung. Nice and straight, not slightly crooked.

Always interested to see how you'll redecorate the place when you get "bored". He'll study your Pinterest board and even search for things in his free time -- although he may not tell you. When I say 'search', I mean he's a collaborator on your board so he's adding notes and inspiration when he has the time but he's also searching for what you have so you can actually put it into your home. Imagine coming home one day to a package and he's not there yet. You: Hey, did you order this? *image* Kento: I did. I was hoping to get home first so I could set it up as a surprise. You: Aww! What is it? Kento: Don't open it. Just wait until I get there. You: Okay .... but what is it? Kento: Don't. Open. It. You: But.. Kento: 🫥 You: 🧍‍♀️... please? Kento: No. You: .... just a peek? Kento: (y/n), no. ~His sixth sense kicked in when you didn't respond right away.~ Kento: You did it anyway, didn't you? You: Sorry, I couldn't help it but aaahhhh I LOVE IT! TYSM! 🥰 Kento: You can be so impatient. You're welcome ❤️ Just don't set it up without me, ok? I don't want you to hurt yourself. You: Okay 😊 thank you, dear darling husband💐 Kento: You're welcome, sweetheart ❤️ I love you. You: I love you too, prob more Kento: Oh, don't start. You: 🤭

Side note: he really loves when you call him sweet little nicknames or things like 'darling'. No one's ever seen him in that light so you calling him something so soft and endearing makes his heart sing.

In regard to texting and all things tech, he's a fast learner but he doesn't dedicate himself to keeping up with these kind of things. So when you mention a new game system or getting a DVD player or projector {I saw a tiktok months ago where this lady's living room setup was a projector instead of a TV and now I want one} he's a bit indifferent. He doesn't really care as long as it's not costly and smthn you'll only use sparingly, go for it. Don't be surprised when he starts using it though, after you teach him ofc lol. Imagine coming home early after runngin errands and he's playing your switch 😂 I can also see him using emojis without knowing their intent {example: the sweat emoji}. If you get a DVD player or have anything similar, he actually loves it. He's a milennial {hope I got that right} so the whole thing is nostalgic for him. It makes him feel young again.

He'd have a few special movies that are close to his heart and remind him of better days before he met you. I'd bet everything I own that he has a DVD of the movie(s), he and Yu would watch. He doesn't watch it at first because he already tears up just holding it in his hand so it sits on the shelf for a while. When you inquire about it, he briefly talks about it. He's already told you about Yu and his entire past so you're not surprised. He loves how you don't push him to talk any further though, you're a quiet comfort and he couldn't ask for anything more. One day, he does watch the movie though, I'd imagine it's when he's by himself. 9 times out of 10 it's some horrible comedy. Yu loved it and Nanami only suffered through it for his friend's sake. As the movie plays on, he chuckles at some horrible joke then gets teary eyed when he hears the echoes of Yu's laughter in his mind. "Y'know he'd be proud of you, right?" he hears your words playback in his head then wipes his tears.

He's a laundry wizard. I remember seeing a post a long time ago that said smthn like 'we know he's great at laundry because how does he get all the blood off his clothes'. Can't find it but shoutout to the OP. This would honestly come in clutch for whatever period incidents you have {bc it happens}. I love this though bc he's completely unfazed when it first happens. He sees you rushing to the bathroom and watches you try to get it out then just says he can take care of it. Imagine just watching him to learn 😭he gets a little flustered but tries to maintain his seriousness.

"Wait," you move closer to him until you're peering over his shoulder. Your scent envelops him and he hates how quickly the blood rushes to his cheeks.

"Hm?" he stops working at the stain then looks back at you.

"How much of that stuff did you use?"

"Just a capful."

"Oh, okay." you remain close to him "Continue."

He didn't speak. He couldn't so he just did as told, rubbing out the stain with you hovering over his shoulder.

Actually gets a bit upset when he sees you taking the trash out for the first time. He doesn't yell but he simply stands by you and takes the bag out of your hands with a "I've got it". Tradition gets the best of him at times. His reasoning is that he "doesn't want you to get your hands dirty".

Everything has a designated spot. He'd prefer if you don't move things but if you must, at least tell him first. This actually made me think of the "Honey, where's my super suit?!" scene from The Incredibles lol.

The welcome mat at the front door is what solidified it for him. Seeing it everyday when he unlocks the door just makes him feel so warm. When his eyes land on you popping your head out of the kitchen to greet him with a brief "hey!" they tear up just a bit. He sheds his coat and shoes then walks into the kitchen to wrap his arms around you and bury his head in the crook of your neck. You chuckle out of surprise then wrap your arms around him "Are you ok?" Your fingers find their way to his undercut to give him that comforting caress. He blesses you with one of those low hums of contentment.

Domesticity really brings out the softer side of him. Don't get me wrong, it was always there but the fact that you two now have a place to call your own. It's not an apartment or a small shared space but a house that you've turned into a home. He can paint the walls with you, build a garden, maybe a nursery... he can live here. He can be happy... he can be happy with you.

You don't know he's thinking all of this though. All you know is that one morning, you're glancing out the window and see your husband painting the mailbox. The fabric of your houserobe feels warm on your skin as you step outside. "What are you do-" your eyes land on the white paint of his unfinished work which reads "Nan" in white paint. "I figured we'd be here for a while." he glances at you with rosy cheeks, still holding the paintbrush in his hand. "Where's mine?" He chuckles and hands you his paintbrush then places a kiss on the top of your head. For once, and more to come, he let himself smile fully as he watches you add "a" to your shared last name. "Y'know darling, you shouldn't be out here dressed like that. People may want you for themselves." "I guess you'll have to let them know I'm your wife then." you glance back at him with a smirk then face forward to finish the last detail of your work. When you turn around to hand him the paintbrush, he barely grips it before pulling you in for a brief kiss. The morning feels cool on his skin. The birds are chirping... are they bluejays? He'd find out tomorrow when he wakes up by your side and hears them again.

Author's Note: I think we've established I'm sick for this man made up of lines and colors.

** In season 1, episode 3 of Life Lessons with Uramichi Oniisan, there's a scene where Uramichi is watching TV and a commercial pops up for the viewer to take a psychological test by drawing simple pictures. One of the pictures is an animal and he draws a dog. He then has to send the picture to other people to see if they can accurately guess what it is and it's meant to show if he/the viewer has personality issues. You should be able to watch the full clip here, just go to 21:00! Lmk if the link works or not - this is honestly such a favorite of mine and I haven't even finished it.

p.s.: I found out about the show when I used to work at the mall, LUSH for pple who are curious, and one of the girls/a customer had this really cool tattoo of this funky looking bird. Idk what it was so ofc I had to ask - then she tells me that her and her friend, who was by her side, have matching ones and that it's from Life Lessons with Uramichi Oniisan! I made sure to watch the show when I had time and even though I haven't finished it, I plan on it. He's so relatable, too relatable lmbo, and I can see some similarites between Kento and he; so now I have to finish it, right?

p.p.s: if you read all that, here's your reward lol 🧋🌼🥠🍎🫂

#going back to my hidey hole. i really write then dip - ok byee!!!#madebyjade #kento nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk kento #kento x reader #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons #jujutsu nanami #jjk x reader #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen nanami

90 notes · View notes