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mihanisms · 4 months ago

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endurance test

— you decide to spoil your boyfriend by riding him stuuupiddd :p

— sub zayne, use of "mistress", overstimulation, mindbreak, zayne eventually goes into subspace, biting kink, nipple play

The remaining sanity that your boyfriend was trying to preserve crumbled the moment you pressed his body deeper into the mattress, grinding your pussy onto him for what felt like the hundredth time. The slick that was dripping between your legs, a mixture of your juices from the rounds you had pushed him through, made every movement of yours effortless, your pussy clamping down on him and making him see stars as a strangled moan leaves his throat.

"Love, I think- I thinhaah! are you still n-not-" His cock throbs as you grind down in a particularly harsh manner, cutting off any of his protests. "Not satisfied? Of course not - you can still talk, honey." Your voice was sweet and teasing, yet your actions were anything but, your hands sliding over his torso and finding his nipples, the two pink buds perky and cold to the touch.

Watching his flushed face intently, you start to pinch and pull at his buds, the sudden gesture causing his eyes to roll back and his body to jerk into you, a high-pitched whine slipping past him before he could stop himself. Spurred on by his reaction, you pull harder, causing tears to well up at the corners of your doctor's eyes.

"I-It's too much, please it's too seehns'tive-!" Zayne's words were barely coherent at this point, his words slurred together as he cries and sniffles at all the sensations overwhelming him, from your pussy bullying his cock to your fingers rolling over his nipples and your heated gaze that wanted nothing but to see him driven to ruin - it was all too much, and the doctor found himself orgasming again, spurt after spurt of cum painting your walls and dripping down from you to his thighs.

The tears that he was just barely holding earlier were now spilling onto his red cheeks as broken sobs fell from his lips—pleas for mercy that completely contradicted how he remained rock-hard inside you. A condescending smirk curls up at your lips as your fingers trail up from his chest up to his jaw, tracing it lightly. Your voice dips into something low and sultry, amusement dancing in your heated gaze. "Your words say one thing and your dick says another....Now, I just don't know what to do."

Zayne, parting his lips to reply, gets cut off by a choked whine as you abruptly halt your movements. His teary eyes focus in on your self-satisfied smirk and hooded eyes. Fuck. He knew that look.

Your still-teasing fingers slide back down to toy with his oversensitive nipples, gentler this time but enough to pull a shaky breath from him. "I’ve gotta say, honey….If you really want me to stop because you can’t take anymore, well, I guess I have to respect my sweet doctor’s wishes."

His breath hitches and his expression falls, but he knew he had it coming with all the mindless babbles leaving him throughout the whole session. It only hits him how far you wanted to take it when you slowly start to lift yourself off his cock, a small whimper leaving him as his hands instantly move to your hips to stop you, a pleading look in his eyes. "I...I..." He starts out, the words catching in his throat.

"You….You....You what, Zay?"Your voice is thick with amusement, his hesitance deepening at the smirk on your face. "You have to use your words." To punctuate your statement, you roll your hips, letting the remainder of him inside you feel that brief, fleeting pleasure and earning yourself yet another wobbly gasp of your name.

For a few agonizing moments, his mouth opens and closes, nothing coming out—until he finally caves, his voice barely above a whisper.

"...Please." His fingers dig into your skin, his resolve crumbling entirely. "Keep on riding me…until I can’t think."

His admission brings a wicked grin to your face, one that the doctor knew only spelled ruin for him. Before he could brace himself, you slam your hips down onto his, changing your rhythm from slow, teasing grinds to an eager and relentless pace, your slick pussy easily moving up and down his cock as he writhes beneath you.

This time, his thoughts truly scatter, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of your movements, your voice, and the way you looked at him as you rode his cock—like he was nothing but a pretty toy for you to use.

And oh, that turned him on.

Small pleas and whimpers for more left him like he had never protested against you in the first place. He lets himself get fucked into oblivion, relishing in everything you so generously give him. In between his moans and mumbles of pleasure, a singular word leaves him that lets you know he'd fully given up control.

"Mistress...!"

That one desperate cry of your title sends heat flooding through you, your desire surging into overdrive. One of your hands slide from his chest to his abdomen, steadying yourself as you lean down, biting into the flushed skin of his neck. His breath hitches and breaks into tiny, high-pitched mewls, his hips jerking up instinctively to push deeper into you.

He was beautiful like this.

Wanting more of his delicious sounds, you keep your teeth against his skin, sinking in just enough to leave a mark—something for him to wear long after this was over. When you finally pull away, Zayne lets out a soft hic, his hazy, tear-filled eyes locking onto yours with a look of longing…and unmistakable desire.

You open your mouth to tease him about it, but before you can, he surprises you—his voice needy and utterly wrecked as he stumbles over his words. "M-Miss...please, I- ah-! N-Need more, want t' be marked-"

Even as his consciousness crumbles, his desires remain clear. He knew exactly what he wanted from you now, and he wasn’t afraid to beg for it with each of his shameless moans and hips that were desperately meeting yours with every thrust.

Unable to deny your lover's desperate plea, you bite down, canines marking him as yours once more. Your tongue follows, soothing over the fresh wound, and causing Zayne to break off into a series of fast-paced cries. His body trembles as pleasure courses through his veins, a whimper of gratitude escaping him and sobs wracking his body as he cums, filling you up again and sending a wave of bliss through you, your cunt fluttering in the tell-tale sign of orgasm to seal both your fates.

"....Cumming just from a bite? Oh honey, you really are gone, aren't you?" You receive no answer but Zayne's flushed face, tear-streaked cheeks, and violent hiccups of pleasure let you know exactly what he would have said, anyways. He was completely spent. Yet you keep moving, using his cock to chase the last of your high.

When you finally reach your peak, your body tenses, shuddering through the aftershocks. Even then, you don't pull away, merely slowing to a gentle grind as you catch your breath. By now, Zayne was barely conscious, a hazy look in his eyes as his body twitches from the overstimulation. He weakly attempts to pull away, not wanting to keep his cum in you for too long but you push him right back down, a soft snort of amusement breaking free from you.

"Don't worry about it, honey. Let me stay like this for a little while, alright?" He only whines reluctantly in response but makes no further moves to resist. Instead, he simply lies there, his body spent, mind floating.

As the minutes pass, the heavy rise and fall of Zayne’s chest gradually even out, though the occasional aftershock still runs through his arms or legs. His hands that were gripping you so desperately now rest limply, his fingers twitching with the lingering echoes of pleasure.

You brush a hand through his damp hair, smoothing it back from his sweat-slicked forehead. His half-lidded eyes flutter at the touch, unfocused but filled with something tender—something that made your heart clench despite what you had just made him go through.

“There you go,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Breathe, love.”

A faint hum vibrates in his throat, and after a few slow blinks, his dazed expression melts contentment. His lips part, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “…You're insatiable.”

A warmth spreads through your chest as you giggle, shifting just enough to lie against him without breaking the intimate connection you both shared. "...I know. But you liked it, didn't you?"

He scoffs lightly, burying his face in your hair. Even without a response, the way his hands soothingly rubbed over your skin said enough. And as his body finally relaxes beneath you, you hold him close—letting the night settle around you, wrapped in the heat of each other’s presence.

a/n: BOOOOMSHAKALAKAAAAA I GOT SOMETHING OUT OF MY DRAFTS

#౨ৎ m's fics! ₊˚ෆ #lads zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne smut #sub zayne #lads smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace

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simonz-angel · 7 months ago

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subby boy simon who can’t even keep his tongue in his mouth 😂

his head dips, weighing heavy at his shoulders. and his mind sits even heavier, clouded over in a messy haze of desperation, your sweet figure barely coherent within the bouncy space.

he’s barely able to take deep breaths, tongue slowly lolling from the open space of his popped cherry lips.

his eyes blink in foggy tears, and he’s struggles to make out your pretty face suddenly so close. close enough that he begins to suffocate under your sweet breath.

“you with me, baby?” you whisper, fingers patting at the warm, flushed fat of his cheek. you’re tryna knock him back into reality, your pretty cunt swallowing him up whole until he’s pushed into something of a false certainty.

“yes- yeah,” he puffs, sucking his tongue back into his mouth and letting his throat fill and hydrate with the saliva left building behind the bottom row of his pearly teeth. “m’here, mama, right here…”

you laugh, giggling at his fucked up expression. his eyes bore through yours, gaze clearly occupied with whatevers dancing round in his mushy lil mind, the tip of his nose painted in a soft pink, cheeks flushed the same color. n his soft lips, parted and puffy, red and shiny with spit.

“god, si, you’re so pretty,” you hum, hips slowly rolling back onto the pretty length of his flushed cock, and yours fingers, once grounded at his cheek slip.

slip lower, till your fingertips prod at his parted lips. n he opens his mouth willingly. tongue taking hold of the sweet curl of your digits, and he sucks at them, wetting them up with his warmed spit, tongue slipping between and swirling round the soft skin.

“p- ank you, thank you, mama,” he garbles, struggling to talk coherently round your fingers that dig deeper into the back of his throat, sliding over the back of his tongue till his eyes water and sting.

and you’re both in a trance, hips digging deep against his, thighs accompanying the dip of his hipbones as you rock yourself in a slow motion. you’re savoring the way his moans, whines across your skin, feeling each sound reverberate up your arm and race down to the puff of your clit.

“such a sweet boy, si, you’re so good for me, to me.”

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strang3lov3 · 24 days ago

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Rock You

Dad rocks you to sleep.

Tags - dad!joel, incest, smut, one shot, dad jokes, banter, dad!joel eats slim jim’s (sorry. they’re a certified #dadclassic), road head, blow job, cum swallowing, fingering, piv sex, creampie, cockwarming, somno-ish, Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged in New York lol. Sweet and loving nostalgia. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND ALL CHARACTERS ARE ADULTS. 5.5k words

A/N - He’s back, daddy’s girls 🩷 thank you for your patience. And thank you to all who contributed in the #dadsnacks discussion! That was very valuable.

Joel pulls his truck up next to the gas pump, then puts the vehicle into park and steps out. With your head against the window, you watch him through the windshield that’s all spattered in gnats and flies, Dad rounding the front of his truck. He looks so handsome, brows knitted together as he untwists the gas cap and puts the pump inside, graying hair blowing in the breeze. He pulls out his wallet then, reads a little sign, and then hangs his head back in irritation. “God dammit.”

Joel taps twice on your window, voice muffled as he speaks, “Gotta pay inside,” he says. “Let’s go.”

You roll your eyes. “Dad, let me just stay,” you whine.

But Joel doesn’t budge. “No can do, kiddo. I don’t like ya out here alone,” he says. “Come with, come pick out some junk food with me, huh?”

“I don’t want…whatever.” You can’t fight the smile that grows on your face. Joel knows all too well how to bribe you, his sweet fucking girl. You unclick your seatbelt and Joel opens the truck door, and he takes your hand and helps you down.

He’ll never stop doing that, you know. He knows you’re big now, all grown up. Your legs are longer and you’re more graceful than the little punk kid you once were, but Joel will always, always help you down. You bit it one goddamn time and ended up with a big gash on your forehead and all these scrapes on your knees, and you screamed bloody murder when Joel dumped peroxide on your skin to clean the wounds. It broke his fucking heart, hurting you like that, even if it was to help you in the long run. At least he got a giggle out of you when he let you hurt him - “hurt” him back by punching him in his strong bicep. Ouch, kiddo. Uh huh. Hurts real bad. Yep, we’re even now.

Joel holds the glass gas station door open for you, then points to a stack of baskets. “You know what to do.”

Joel follows you through the gas station, loving that beautiful grin on your face as you grab his snacks first - his preferred junk food never changes. Snickers, sunflower seeds, a honey bun, a couple of Slim Jim’s and some Reese’s peanut butter cups and a big bottle of Arizona Arnold Palmer to wash it all down. You did good, kiddo.

Dad’s turn. Joel picks out Sour Patch watermelons, your very favorite. He grabs you a big bag of white cheddar popcorn, too, and some of those mini powdered donuts. You always had a thing for those donuts. Joel’s standing in front of the refrigerated section, thinking hard about what to get you to drink. You approach him and browse with him. “Could get ya Bug Juice,” he teases, nudging your arm. “‘Member those?”

You laugh out of your nose, “Ew,” you giggle, scrunching your face.

“Ya liked ‘em when you were little,” Joel replies, opening the fridge and grabbing you a cherry Coke. You smile, Dad knows you so well.

You and Joel bring your items up to the register, where the attendant scans everything. Joel reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, then narrows his eyes at an end cap that catches his attention. “Grab me one’a them Paydays, would ya?”

You raise your eyebrow and put your hands on your hips and Jesus, you truly are your father’s daughter. Same fucking mannerisms and facial expressions right there.

“Dad, no. You broke your tooth on one of those the last time you ate one.”

“It was one time,” Joel argues quietly, snatching a Payday himself, and handing it as well as a couple of bills to the attendant, who’s laughing at this argument. “Put the change on pump four, please,” he tells her.

“Dad–”

“Can it,” Joel says. “Tooth was already cracked to begin with. Thank ya, ma’am,” he says to the attendant, swiping the white plastic bags full of snacks off the counter. Then he nods his head in the direction of the door.

“It was not,” you mumble, more for the attendant’s ears than for Joel’s. You wish her a nice rest of her day.

Outside, Joel opens his truck door for you and helps you into it, then fills his truck with gas. When he’s done, he puts the pump away and joins you in the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life as he turns the key. You’re back on the endless highway in minutes, snacking on junk food together.

“And ya know the great thing,” Joel starts, pausing to take a swig of his drink, “All this garbage s’only eight thousand calories.”

“It’s not, actually.”

“Yeah, how’s that?”

You swallow the Sour Patch watermelons you were chewing. “Because it doesn’t count when you eat it in the truck.”

Joel laughs at that, eyes crinkling with his smile. “You are wise beyond your years, girl.” He’s got his window cracked, and the wind is blowing his curls back. The sun beginning to set makes his dark eyes shine a vibrant amber in its glow.

Another hour passes. You notice a Volkswagen Beetle and punch Joel in his bicep, snickering. Before he can argue, he notices the car, too. “Didn’t say slug bug, darlin’. Doesn’t count.”

“Does too.”

Joel takes his right hand off of the steering wheel and makes his pointer finger and thumb into a circle, and holds it above the floor of the truck. “Psst. What’s that, kid? That a bug on the floor?” You gasp when you look down and roll your eyes when you see Joel’s circle, and he punches you in the bicep in return, laughing triumphantly. He punches lightly, of course. Dad never rough houses too hard with you, baby girl. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, then shakes out his arm. “Goddamn, girl. Your punch is gettin’ harder.”

More time passes by, and you’re keeping track of the number of flies that smack the windshield. You and Joel played twenty questions - he was thinking about coffee, and you were thinking about a cat. He tried to play again, but you shut him down. “I’m bored,” you whined instead, and Joel told you that you could go play in traffic.

You’re flipping through radio channels now, looking for something to listen to. Remember when Uncle Tommy would sit with you in the truck with some AM station on? Joel hated that. He thinks that’s partially where you got your attitude from, or at least where you learned to argue. Uncle Tommy would beg to differ, though. He thinks you and his brother are the same fucking person. Joel can make all the excuses he wants, and it’ll never change the fact that everything he is - the good, bad, and the ugly - you are too.

Joel reaches over your head for the CD case attached to the mirror above your seat and pulls out Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged in New York. He puts it into the disc drive, humming along to ‘About a Girl’. You don’t remember it, but Joel used to play this album for you to get you to sleep, sometimes. He’d sing ‘Where Did You Sleep Last Night’ to you, too. Not very well, but neither of you gave a shit, because it was your special thing. Just for you and him, you and Dad.

“Are we almost home?”

“Do you see our house, baby?”

“No.”

Joel gives you a silent look in response, and you sigh dramatically. “I’m bored to fucking death,” you complain.

Joel clicks his tongue. “To death, huh? S’a shame. Well, was nice knowin’ ya.”

“Daaaad.”

“Oh, I know, I know, I know.” Joel leans over and pushes open the glove box, and rummages around for a pen and some paper. He finds a napkin instead. “Draw me somethin’ pretty,” he tells you.

You take the napkin, and you can tell it’s many years old by the words ‘a note for your lunch’ that are written on them in faded ink. You chuckle and put that napkin back, and find a different, blank one instead.

You can’t believe it’s still there after all these years. When you were in elementary school, you asked your dad to leave you a note in your lunch box because you liked that the other kids’ parents would write them sweet and loving notes. Notes like, you’re gonna do great on that test! I love you!

And what did your dear old man, Joel, write? A note for your lunch.

Joel would give anything to see the look on your face when you opened it, but in truth, he could perfectly picture it in his imagination when he was at work that day. Your cute little pout, inherited directly from him. When he picked you up from school later, you angrily handed it back to him.

“What? S’what ya asked for, right? A note for your lunch?”

“I hate you.”

“Uh huh,” he smirked.

You put your pen to your napkin before you’ve even got the faintest idea of what you want to draw, you just hope you’ll end up somewhere eventually. A squiggly circle here, a wobbly line there, all accidental mistakes. You groan in frustration, then put the napkin and pen back in the glove box. “I don’t wanna draw. It’s too bumpy.”

Joel sighs deeply and puts his head against his left hand, his elbow resting on the driver’s side door. “You don’t wanna draw,” he starts, “Don’t wanna play games, either. Just wanna complain, huh?”

“Yep,” you answer, crossing your arms and resting your face against the glass window.

“Then f’ya wanna complain, I’ll give ya somethin’ to complain about.”

You look over and see Joel switching his grip on the wheel. He uses his right hand to start to unbuckle his belt, his eyes darting from his crotch to the road ahead. “Gimme a hand here, kiddo. Shouldn’t be takin’ my eyes off the road.” Another one of his do as I say, not as I do moments.

“Now?”

“Yes, now. C’mon now, don’t make me ask twice.”

You huff and puff and sigh as you unbuckle yourself to take care of Joel’s belt and jeans. You poor girl, all bored and antsy. Your generation’s gonna have a tough time figuring that one out, Joel thinks. Keeping yourself entertained without a screen in front of your face. Shoot.

He’s getting hard as your soft, gentle hands undo the leather, patting over his bulge. Joel lets out a sigh when he feels you drag the zipper down, fingers tugging on fabric to free his cock. Joel sucks in his soft belly and pulls himself out for you, giving his length a couple of strokes with his fist before letting you take over.

It’s difficult to keep his eyes on the road with you bent over his crotch the way you are, with one of your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and the other on his thigh. You begin with a couple of kisses pressed against his soft tip, moving your way down his veiny shaft. You are dad’s kind, sweet girl, through and fucking through. He keeps the fact that this is quite an excruciating tease to himself, because he likes your generous kisses, finds it cute that you do this.

You circle his head with your tongue just twice, then take Joel into your mouth completely, gagging yourself in the process. You feel embarrassed as Joel pats your back, softly warning you, “Easy - woah - easy, baby girl. Not all once, honey, that’s how ya choke.” He chuckles after he says it.

It took Joel forever to stop cutting your grapes in half.

He rests the back of his head against his chair as you try again, this time working your way down his shaft a little slower. You’re making a mess of both yourself and Joel, just like he tells you to. “With your hand, baby, just like I showed ya,” Joel reminds you. You move your hand in time with your bobbing head, and the quiet, pleasured groans Joel makes go straight to your core. “Doin’ so good, honey. Attagirl.”

He grunts in surprise when you pull away suddenly, whining his name. Daaad. Joel pulls his eyes from the road momentarily to watch you pull one of his wiry, graying pubic hairs off of your tongue. He laughs, “Oh shit, I know. My bad, kiddo, I’ll trim first thing tomorrow.”

“You better,” you murmur, wiping your hand on his jeans. You bend back over and continue pleasuring him, and look at how quickly you find your rhythm, baby girl. It’s that steady, quiet, mindless repetition that calms you down, regulates your system. Joel tries to stress the importance of slowing down to you, of getting your mind off of stuff and things. It’s those quiet, repetitive activities that help you. Folding laundry, sorting buttons. And then, your oral fixation is satiated when you bob your head up and down on Dad’s cock, too, isn’t it? And it helps that much further, pacifies you in a sort of way. Funny how that works, huh?

Joel gives your back a couple of taps to signal his impending release. You pump your fist and massage the underside of his cock with your tongue, working him to his peak. Joel moans your name with all the love in the world as he cums all over your tongue, and you taste each rope of the very spend you’re made from, swallowing it all with a hum turned squeak when Joel tugs on your hair a little too hard. “Sorry, kiddo,” he apologizes quietly. Dad always did have a tendency of being rough with your hair when he would put it into pigtails or braids, but you were always a little tender headed, too, weren’t you? Christ, he misses doing those pigtails. The smell of green apple scented Suave’s detangling spray, those colorful hair ties he was always buying. Joel always wondered where they’d disappear to.

You take a sip of your Coke, then lay your head on Joel’s lap with the back of your head resting against his soft tummy, all tuckered out, just like he wanted you to be. Dad pushes some hair out of your face and traces the curve of your ear, rubbing the cartilage between his fingertips.

Your father has such gentle, loving hands as he runs one of them down your body, tugging up on your shirt. He rubs the valley between your hip and your waist, where it dips just so, then runs his hand over the curve of your ass. He pats you in time with the beat of Nirvana playing over his tinny speakers, then lets his fingers travel lower. He traces that little diamond shape that frames your pussy so perfectly, and tugs your soft shorts and panties to the side, dipping just his middle finger into you.

Joel can feel you clenching around his knuckle as he pumps it in and out of you, and he can hear that soft murmur of pleasure you let slip. “Yeah, that feels nice, huh, baby?”

“S’nice,” you mumble in agreement, and Joel’s adding a second finger. Dad’s got you memorized by hand, and knows how to touch you to make you come undone for him like you’re meant to. A little wiggling, curling of his fingers and you’re gasping, dripping into your cotton panties. Joel pulls his fingers out and slides them up the warm, wet seam of your pussy, and he finds your clit swollen and throbbing. Poor kid, he thinks. That can’t feel good.

He rubs your clit in steady, expertly made circles to get you off. He’s not looking to make you cum especially hard or anything like that - just a soft, sweet orgasm to soothe you off to sleep for the rest of the ride.

There are days when Dad does just that to you though, where he overstimulates you and fucks you so hard you sob. Sometimes he’ll shove his fingers down your throat to keep you from making too much noise, and he’ll feel a little guilty when you gag on them. Sorry, baby. Dad got ahead of himself.

And then, there are days where you ride him until you’re out of breath and gasping for air, where Joel has to slow you down and force you to take a break. Time out and have a sip of water, kiddo. There’s no rush. Dad’s not going anywhere.

Dad’s taught you the nuances of sex, and you’re lucky for that. To learn from someone who loves you and who’s so patient and experienced, similarly to when he taught you to drive. It doesn’t have to be all rough and grabbing hands, grabbing fistfuls of hair and flesh like you see in some TV and movies. Dad’s introduced you to the simple pleasure created between a body pressing against another body, the special warmth that comes from skin resting on skin, bones resting on bones, muscle twitching against muscle. Heavy breaths syncing as his arms wrap around your shoulders and waist, holding you close. Soft, gentle, never ending orgasms simply experienced for the sake of being experienced.

Joel doesn’t change his pace at all when your clit starts to throb and pulse rapidly. “That’s it, honey. Cum for Daddy.”

He works you through your orgasm, right until you’re whimpering, “S-stop, Dad, please. M’done, all done.”

“All done?” Joel asks, and you nod. He pulls his fingers from you and sucks them clean, then puts his hand on your back again. A little bit of rubbing, maybe some scratching, and you’re out like a light. Joel looks down at your sleeping face and notices a bit of his spend still on your lips. He licks his thumb, brings it to your mouth, then wipes it away.

And wouldn’t you know it, your song is playing. Joel sings along to the lyrics, repeatedly rubbing your cheekbone with his fingers, looking down at you every so often, though he knows he shouldn’t.

Sometimes, Joel will still instinctively look into his rearview mirror and angle it down, looking for your little legs kicking in your booster seat. Those days are long gone now, but the alternative isn’t so bad, is it? His sweet little girl asleep in his lap, drooling onto his jeans. The sun’s gone down, and there’s another two hours before he’ll be home with you. Joel holds his forearm protectively around your body.

When those two hours pass, Joel pulls into his driveway, then shuts off the truck. He puts his keys into the pocket of his soft, worn shirt, and he’s gentle as ever when he lifts your head from his lap, doing this silly and awkward, careful maneuver as he opens the truck door and slides out of the vehicle. He leans over your body and grabs you in his strong arms, then carries you tightly against his chest. Joel closes the truck door shut by kicking it with his foot, then looks down at you.

Your sleeping face, knocked the fuck out. Lips plump and pouting, drooling - there’s a nice stain of spit on his jeans, too. Not that Joel minds any. Lord knows he’s cleaned up worse from you. “Ohh,” he sighs quietly. “What’m I gonna do with ya, my girl?”

Drives in Joel’s truck always put you to sleep. Joel remembers when you were a baby, and fucking inconsolable. Colicky, you poor thing. All out of sorts. Nothing worked to soothe you - not a bottle, not a story, not being rocked or bounced or anything else. And Joel didn’t have the heart to just let you cry it out, either. He just couldn’t stomach listening to you cry like that, all alone and scared because your dad wasn’t there, and you needed him.

You kept Joel awake for days at a time, screaming your little head off. Joel was at his wits end with you, and he needed a break before he screamed his head off, too. So he buckled you into your little carseat and began driving to Uncle Tommy’s. Tommy owed him one, anyway. And you always had a thing for Tommy, too, which helped. You were sweet on him from day fucking one. He just had this special way with you, where he could soothe you and charm you out of your moods in a way Joel couldn’t always do. It made Joel jealous, if he’s being honest with himself. Still kind of does.

On that particular drive, Joel had realized at a point that he could actually hear Nirvana playing on the radio, and not your agonized screams and cries. In however many minutes it was you’d gone out like a light, and it’s like everything clicked in that moment. Whenever you got too fussy to relax, he’d just drive with you, his sweet baby girl. Sometimes listening to music, sometimes not. Sometimes Uncle Tommy would come with and he and Joel would talk in whispers that lulled you off to sleep, paired with the dull roar of the truck’s engine.

Joel grunts when he carries you inside, muscles burning as he brings you up the stairs. “When’d you get so fuckin’ big, huh?” he murmurs, laying you down on his bed. He tells himself you probably would’ve ended up in his bed, anyway. Joel unties your shoes one at a time and slips them off, quietly placing them on the floor. And it wasn’t so long ago that your shoes had velcro straps and lit up when you ran, was it? Good fucking god.

Joel takes off your clothes, one article at a time. Socks and pants first, then panties. He gingerly slips your arms back through your sleeves and the collar of your shirt up and over your face, careful not to disturb your slumber. But of course…

“Dad,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep.

“Shit, sweetheart. M’sorry,” Joel whispers, stroking the side of your head. “Didn’t mean to wake ya. Go back to sleep, darlin’. S’okay. You’re home.”

You shake your head, wiping your eyes as you sit up. “Can’t sleep,” you argue tiredly.

Joel scoffs a laugh. “Oh bullshit, yes ya can. You’ve been knocked out for a while now,” he whispers, pulling off his own shirt. “Jus’ close your eyes, honey. Be right there to snuggle ya.”

“Mm-mm. Rock me, Daddy.”

Oh, Joel knows what that means. When he looks at you, he’s met with pleading, tired, and big eyes, asking him oh-so-kindly to rock you. You’re a master manipulator with those eyes of yours, you know. It took Joel a long time to learn not to cave to your puppy eyes, and it took Uncle Tommy even longer. If you asked Joel, he’d tell you that you can still get Uncle Tommy with that look.

“Rock you, huh?” Joel’s cock jumps in his denim. “Reckon s’a little late for that, kiddo. ‘Specially for a weeknight.”

“No, please,” you beg, reaching for your dad’s warm hand and putting it between your thighs. “I need you, Daddy.”

“Y’sure like to pull your ‘daddy’ card when you’re wantin’ somethin’ from me, huh?”

Joel loves the way you can’t hide your grin from his accusation. He sighs, then bites the corner of his lip to keep himself from mirroring the same smile. It’s true what they say, about kids making you soft. “Yeah, alright. I’ll rock ya,” he concedes, already pushing down his jeans and boxers. He plops in the seat of his La-Z-Boy rocker recliner that’s been in the corner of his room since you were born, lazily pumping his own cock while patting his thigh. “C’mere.”

You groan as you stand up, pausing to yawn while stretching. “Ohh, you are not long for this world, daughter of mine,” Joel murmurs, eyeing you as you move closer to him. You straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face into his neck, inhaling the warm, familiar scent of his skin. “Scoot, kiddo. C’mon, up,” Joel grunts, urging you to sit up before spitting into his palm. “Lazy ass.” You whine in disapproval but do it anyway, sighing when you feel the blunt head of Joel’s cock prodding at your folds. He passes his cock through your seam a couple of times, then lines up with your entrance.

“Careful, baby. Easy does it,” Joel grunts, easing you down his length, sighing at the feeling of being enveloped in your warm cunt, warm for him and him alone. Joel thrusts up a little to bottom out, soothing your cries with the kindest of kisses pressed against your lips. “There she is. Down here, darlin’. Right here.”

Joel wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, close so that you’re chest to chest, skin to skin. He inhales deeply the scent of the top of your head and rubs your back, propelling the rocking chair with his feet on the ground. He notices goosebumps on your skin.

Rocking used to mean one thing, a long time ago. Joel soothing you to sleep, bonding with you. Your little self pressed against him, with a blanket over your shoulders and tucked under your feet as he read picture books to you. And it still kind of does mean that, in a way. It’s different now, of course, and it was always going to change. But it’s just as special. Maybe even more so, now.

Joel groans as you clench around his length. “Bedtime story,” you murmur against his skin. You’re holding onto him so tightly, warming your hands on his soft body.

Dad chuckles. “What, am I supposed to read your textbook to ya or somethin’? We donated all your picture books to Goodwill forever ago.”

“Just wanna hear a story, Daddy.”

“Mhm.” You moan as Joel leans forward, reaching behind his head to grab a blanket draped over the recliner. He spreads it out, then wraps it around your shoulders. “Let’s see…”

Joel thinks for a moment, quietly rocking you on his cock. With one hand under your ass, he uses his arm’s strength to assist in moving you up and down on his cock, just gentle, easy thrusts. His cockhead rubs perfectly against your g-spot, like you were made perfectly for him. And really, weren’t you? Isn’t this exactly what he brought you into this world for?

One of these things, at least.

“Alright. I know one,” Joel says.

“Tell me,” you breathe.

“I lost ya once,” Joel admits quietly.

You hum in surprise, pulling away from Joel for a moment to look at him. “Really?”

Dad clutches you back against his chest, putting you right where he wants you. “Sure did,” he answers, pausing for a moment. “Felt so fuckin’ guilty, kid. I thought I failed ya.”

Your heart pangs at that. “Daaad,” you whisper sadly.

“You couldn’t’ve been older’n four,” Joel begins. “I was tryin’ to get some work done with Uncle Tommy here in the house and ya wouldn’t leave us alone.”

When you giggle at that, Joel groans softly. You clench around his cock when you laugh.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” he continues in a soft voice. “Every other minute you wanted juice or a snack or you’d be sweet talkin’ Uncle Tommy into playin’ dolls with you,” Joel says. “You were drivin’ me fuckin nuts, girl.” Joel squeezes you tighter, then turns his head and kisses your forehead. “I sent ya outside in the backyard, which Uncle Tommy and I had just fenced in, mind ya. Because of you, if you’ll recall.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never told ya?”

“Mm-mm.”

“I sent that fence up because of you, trouble. I’d be grillin’ us hot dogs or somethin’ for dinner and I’d have ya right by my side, drawin’ me pictures with chalk on the patio. Remember this?”

“Mhm,” you murmur.

“Do you remember haulin’ ass across the yard the minute I turned my back?”

You giggle, “No.”

“Mhm, well - so I’m grillin’ for us, right, and I’d turn my back and pshoo, you’d be gone at the neighbor’s house charmin’ that sweet old lady outta the cookies she made. Miss Rosie was her name, right?”

“Yeah, I remember her,” you say fondly. She passed away a few years ago. You and Joel had gone to her funeral.

Dad laughs at the memory. He remembers stomping across her lawn, “Get your little ass back here,” he’d scolded, and you looked like a deer in the headlights with chocolate all over your face. “Did you spoil your dinner?”

“No, Daddy.”

Joel huffed in frustration as he bent down to pick you up, then held you on his hip. “Well,” he’d said, tickling your chin with his finger, “What do you say to Miss Rosie?”

“Thank you.”

Joel rolled his eyes and apologized to her, but she didn’t mind your little impromptu visit. Joel maneuvered you so that you were sitting on his shoulders, your little fingers tugging at his hair, and he marched you right back home.

“Anyway, you were buggin’ me an’ Uncle Tommy so I sent ya outside to make friends with a squirrel or somethin. And sure enough, you stayed busy out there,” Joel says.

He continues, “An’ then I got nervous,” he explains. “‘Cause I couldn’t see ya, and it was quiet. And quiet usually meant you were troublemakin’, my sweet girl.” He continues, “So I went lookin’ for ya out there and you were fuckin’ gone, kiddo. Gone,” Joel enunciates. “Didn’t know if you’d snuck out through the fence somehow or if some fuckin’ pervert lured ya out with candy and snatched ya off the street. We called the cops an’ everything. Screaming your name, lookin’ for ya in the neighbors’ yards.” Joel sighs deeply before continuing. You squeeze him tight and kiss his neck, and he squeezes you back, almost like he’s trying to remind himself that you’re right here, safe in his arms, and everything’s okay. “I was a wreck talkin’ to the cops. Cryin’ and everything ‘cause I lost my baby.”

Joel inhales deeply. “And then,” he says, “A cop came up to me and asked me what shoes you were wearin’, and I told him that you were wearing your pink Chucks. He told me to c’mere and I found ya in the fuckin’ egress window. Little shoes pokin’ out.”

“What?”

“The egress window, like the basement window,” Joel clarifies. “You’d lifted up the grate and sat down there, made friends with some toads. An’ then you fell asleep, you little shit.” Joel smiles at your giggle, the same sweet laugh you’ve always had. “Oh, you scared the bejesus outta me, baby girl. Think I started goin’ gray that fuckin’ day,” he whispers, then goes quiet as the story hangs in the air. “Anyway. That’s how I lost ya.”

“Father of the year, huh?” you tease quietly.

Joel rolls his eyes. “Uh huh.” He wants to tell you how sorry he is still, all these years later. But he thinks you know. “I love ya,” is all he says when he focuses on fucking you in the rocking chair he used to soothe you to sleep in, working himself and you closer and closer to the edge. You wriggle your hand between your bodies and touch your clit, and the way Joel fucks himself into you provides enough friction that you’ll be coming soon. He can hear it in the way you moan, or rather, the way you’ve stopped moaning. When you go quiet, he knows you’re close. He is too.

It’s only one, two, three long and deep thrusts before you’re coming, whimpering, “Dad, Dad, Dad,” as Joel fucks you through it, finding his own orgasm. Fuck, coming with his baby girl. Is there anything in this world more precious and special than that?

You stay on Joel’s lap, dripping his spend. Just quietly coming down, held securely in Dad’s strong arms. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, and drifting off to sleep.

“Alright. Up, baby, up.” Joel pats your ass to rouse you. “I know you’re not sleepin’.”

But only silence from you.

“I can’t stay like this with ya, honey, my back’ll be all fucked up. C’mon, kiddo. Up.”

You don’t budge. Joel sighs deeply, accepting his defeat. He’ll stay like this with you, his softening cock buried in your pussy, maybe just for a moment longer. Rocking you gently, whispering sweet nothings to you. He’s a fucking sucker for you, baby girl.

More dad!joel here and a playlist here!

Hi ♡ if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or sending an ask, but reblogs are especially appreciated. I get people are hesitant to publicly engage with a fic as icky as this one but it goes a long way in breaking the stigma, because after all, it is just fiction. Strength in numbers and all of that :) It’s been a rough go for me lately. I love you, thank you for reading.

Aaaand cat tax. Say hi to Gizmo :)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #Joel miller x reader smut #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #pedro pascal characters #dad!joel #cw incest

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thegirl20 · 25 days ago

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Deearna's Wide Smile.

I never expected it to be Deearna who was the third cover Dinah because dam her covers are very varied.

Slick, Momma and now Dinah seems like a very odd combo? Granted unless someone posts a bootleg of her Dinah and Slick for me I’m not gonna be able to judge just, they seem very very different vocally

#she was an amazing slick #hopefully someone's got her uncoupled from yesterday #when i saw her as slick #she was so teeny that you could not see her behind the other two in one rock and roll at all #my friend who'd never seen the show was surprised when they shuffled round and she was there #deearna mclean #stex london 2024 #starlight express

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fushiguho · 28 days ago

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warnings! annoying ex boyfriend! gojo, switchy, thigh riding, denial

satoru shouldn’t be here, really.

he should be at home with his new little girlfriend—the one he swears sucks his cock better, fucks him sweeter. but somehow, he ended up right back here, frustrated and wet beneath you, squirming as you slowly work your fist up his aching length. your thumb moves to slide across the creaming head of his cock, and his breath catches in his throat.

“you kinda suck.” you deride, a twisted sense of amusement seeping from your soft, condescending tone. satoru lifts his head, woozily following yours as it dips to the side. your gaze flickers up, catching those familiar eyes, something a little too close to love glaring back at you.

still, you bite. “does your girlfriend know that you’re here?”

“she’s not my girlfriend.” he answers quickly.

“does she know that?”

“does it matter?” he’s impatient, whining through his gritted teeth as his hips buck in pursuit of friction. “you’re bein’ mean, sweets.”

“don’t.”

it’s a warning as you tighten your fist, squeezing the tip of his cock admonishingly. pearlescent bubbles of precum gush from his slick, rounded head. arousal spills down your hand as you begin to languidly stroke him to the base, fingers curling down to caress the fat of his balls just how you used to.

“you don’t get to call me that.” you finally mumble.

“really?” he whispers, delightfully amused. “you don’t like that anymore?” he’s angling his hips toward your fist to shamelessly chase your touch. his long, slender frame slumps further against your headboard, a sleazy little grin curling his lips. “fffuck, not even when you’re jerking my cock like that, huh?”

your body remembers him, he knows it does. the way you handle his cock is instinctive, familiar, like muscle memory. the way he rocks his hips into your fist—how he curls into your touch as you ruin him for anyone else, it’s all so natural. this is how it used to be: just the two of you, up late, desperate for each other, pushing to see who would break and cum first.

a moan swells in your chest at the memory, the throb between your legs an incessant drum. you want so badly to press your cunt against the soft meat of his thigh that you straddle. to rock your hips and relieve the gnawing ache that’s now creeping up your shuddering spine, forcing that restrained moan past your lips.

you breathe unsteadily. “why are you here, satoru?”

“for the same reason you let me in.”

he’s closer now, close enough to kiss you. those pretty lips a hair’s breadth away as he attempts to decipher your torn expression. he can see your reservations, the subtle glint of indignation that darkens your irises, the furrow of your brow. but the way you’re arching into him—subconsciously leaning against his chest as you take care of that cock the only way you know how—he knows you missed him.

there’s a sort of desperation in the way he reaches out for you. his big, hungry hands extending to steal handfuls of the soft skin he’s missed so dearly. slipping them underneath your shirt to take your breasts into his palms, long fingers gliding over your hardening nipples.

he expels the breath he’s been withholding. “how i’ve missed you, pretty.”

with both hands, he’s pushing the fat of your tits together, drawing you closer. lips trailing over your chest, warm, sloppy kisses left in his wake. the heat of his breath seeps through your shirt as he inhales your very being. “how i’ve missed my girls.” he whispers.

“you’re handsy.” you breathe, picking his hands off of your body.

you almost lose yourself gathering enough resolve to shove him away, narrowing your eyes at him like that of a troubled dog. teasingly, you remove your hand, observing the way his cock stands on its own—stiff, heavy. rivulets of hot, syrupy arousal drip onto his abdomen, premature cum slipping between the ridges of muscle that heave with each ragged inhale.

“huh?” he pants, voice pitching in a whimper. “you won’t let me touch you either?” growing frustration furrows his snowy brows.

you shake your head slowly, eyeing him with a hunger that he finds oddly comforting, almost like he’s finally at home. he watches as you chew on your bottom lip, an electrifying heat coursing through your entire being. he’s missed you like this, and he knows you do too. he can see it in your hesitation, in your reluctance. in the way your body tells a different story.

but he knows it’s unlike you to give in so easily.

“please,” he all but whines. scattered wisps of ivory fall before his blinking eyes, something of a pout sagging his bottom lip. his hips rut toward you, searching for any semblance of friction. “why are you being like this?”

“how long has it been? two—three weeks?”

all he offers is an indifferent shrug, casting his gaze to avoid your dagger of a stare. you lean in closer, noses brushing as you tilt your head to better read his gaping expression.

“oh,” you frown. “she doesn’t touch you like this, does she?”

your concern is disingenuous, tone bitter, yet somehow, satoru only seems to grow harder, wetter. if it’s not the cut of your voice, it’s the fact that you know how much power you have over him. he shakes his head blankly, praying you’ll grant him mercy.

the soft hairs at the base of his neck stiffen, a gasp tearing from his open mouth as you slowly skim your finger along the curve of his twitching shaft.

“will you please just touch me, okay? please?” he expels a throttled breath, glossed eyes fluttering shut as he loses a little more composure, a little more sanity. “is that it, huh? is that what you want? me to beg you?”

you opt for silence as the soft pad of your index finger circles over his glistening cock head, collecting the accumulated arousal. your touch is fleeting, but something inside of him breaks—you can see it in the way his bare back lifts from the disheveled sheets, his big thighs spreading a bit wider, hips pushing.

his breath breaks like he could cry, “what? what do you want me to do, baby?”

“am i not touching you?” you act coy as you tilt your head. “greedy.”

you reach a bit lower, skimming along the vein that pumps thick and heavy near the underside of his cock. he’s hot to the touch, warm and wet against the pads of your fingers. satoru purses his lips, letting off a long breath of a whimper, nostrils flaring as his stomach caves in never ending arousal.

“god, it h-hurts,” he whines, swallowing thickly as his hips quiver. a glimmering sheen of sweat breaks across his forehead. briefly, he peers down to where you barely touch him, groaning before roving his eyes back up to yours. desperate, he presses his luck, “can you… can you spit on it?”

“i could,” you shrug noncommittally, reaching a determined hand toward his subconsciously parting lips. “but you’ve got a mouth of your own, don’t you?”

a loud, pitifully desperate groan is drawing his head back to rest against the wooden headboard, letting you invade his willing mouth. you’d almost laugh at the way he hungrily mouths your fingers, sucking so sloppily that saliva begins to cascade down your wrist if not for the way your wet, messy hole tightens at the sight.

god, how you’ve missed this—power. satoru always made you feel so powerful, and your entire body aches at the fond reminiscences of being in charge of a man with such stature. you’re hardly thinking as something irrepressible overcomes you. you settle yourself against his thigh, firmly pressing your cunt to his bulging quadricep, gasping when your clit catches against his skin.

“why don’t you use your mouth for something other than talking for once?” you hum, sinking your fingers a little deeper, pressing firmer against his salivating tongue. a pretty moan leaves your lips as you ghost a kiss, whispering, “spit on your cock yourself.”

it’s condescending in every sense, but the way his body viscerally reacts is like kindle to a rampant flame. your voice sweeps down his spine like a brook of cool water, flooding every fiber of his being as he heaves a breath and puckers his lips to drool onto the head of his cock. saliva runs down his fist as he begins to sloppily stroke himself, gaze fixated on the mesmeric whirl of your hips.

“yes,” he pants breathily, lips so close that you can feel the warmth of his bitten whimpers. he tenses the muscles in his thigh for you, squeezing tighter around the base of his cock before babbling on, “god, use me… use my body to g–get yourself off. ride my thigh until you cum ‘n i’ll leave, i swear.”

you laugh out a sweet, breathless moan, reading right through him. “no you won’t.”

“no,” satoru shakes his head while letting off a breath. “i won’t.” he smiles.

and there’s a part of you that really hopes he doesn’t. it’s the same part that has you eagerly fisting your panties aside. the part that’s humping a little bit harder against his body—that’s parting your lips in a pretty wail of rapture as you succumb to the pressure that pools inside of you—deep and devastating.

“yeeeaah—ah—use me however you want—oh my god,” he’s gasping, words tumbling from his mouth, an endless stream of consciousness as his mind blanks. “rub that pussy on my thigh however you—hah—however you fucking want, baby, please.”

he’s bouncing his leg in time with the depraved jerk of his cock, desperately flitting his gaze between the stretch of your lips around his flexed muscles, and the gape of your mouth as you give into all of that devastating pleasure you’ve been denying yourself.

“gaahh—you are so fucking pretty,” satoru gushes, completely drunk off familiar emotions. hearts flutter in his eyes as he rattles off. “i really, really missed my pretty girl.”

shut up, is what you want to say, but your jaw drops instead. words forgotten in a daze of what used to be, and suddenly everything feels so normal. it’s hot—his wolfish panting against your lips, wet tongue peeking out just a little to greedily taste your breaths until he’s so close that he’s kissing you properly, and you don’t move to push him away.

can’t.

you’re far beyond saving, like gone—using every morsel of your strength to fuck yourself against your favorite toy, arching into his body to feel more, fitting like the missing piece to a jigsaw. and he can feel how wet you’re getting, just making a fucking mess of him. dripping all over his thigh while he strokes himself stupid, inches from your cunt.

god, and those lips. still as sloppy as ever, wet mouth moving over yours in a way that renders you silly. you can hardly breathe, dizzied by his determined mouth, by his undying need to prove himself worthy of your mercy.

it’d take nothing for him to slip inside of you, to slyly pull your leg over his waist and stretch you out just how he used to. you’re so high that you probably wouldn’t notice if he stuffed you full just like this. possessing half the brain to even detect the hand that’s moving to haphazardly guide your frenzied hips, pulling you closer, grinding a little deeper, accidentally pressing the head of his cock to your stomach.

did you really think you could deny him the pleasure of touching you? you would’ve been better off tying his limbs to the bedposts because his hands are insistent. they’re greedy and blatantly needy, one splaying across your hip, the other rubbing his wet cock against your warm, perspiring skin.

his balls ache when you moan his name, poor cock throbbing so wickedly that a delirious moan of his own is forced past his gaping lips. pant after desperate pant falls from your mouths, your breaths synchronous, the grind of your bodies obscene. satoru thinks he might die when your hips begin to tremble, your whimpers unbroken, an omen of your impending orgasm.

“fuck, are you—god, are you gonna cum?” it’s breathless, his crackling voice warbling in his throat.

you nod dumbly, something caught between a delirious moan and a hiccup of pleasure spilling past your lips as you rock your hips sloppier, cunt tightening around nothing. his vacant hand squeezes your hip like he’ll lose you all over again if he lets go. talking in your ear so sweetly that you’re messily cumming all over his leg, body locking up as you arch your back, pressing up against the heat of his cock.

“holy fuck, that’s it—fuck it all out, pretty,” he groans between his panting, rutting up against you, cock dripping between your bodies. “god, i’m yours. use me and cum all over me whenever you want.”

slick smears of his arousal drench your skin, sticky beads of sweat mingling. his fist tightens around the base of his cock.

“can i… can i cum too, please?” he’s whining. “m’ so close—please can i cum for you?”

“yes, baby,” as you nod to him, his big hand cups the back of your head, pressing his forehead to yours and whining because it’s not him inside of you.

“fuck—fuck, thank you,” satoru fists his cock once, twice—barely—and that’s all it takes. “t–thank you—hah,” body tensing, breaths trapped in his chest as his jaw falls, groaning out your name so prettily that it almost hurts to hear him say it. his hips stutter, thick, hot ropes of cum drenching the tight space between your heated bodies.

he drips from your chest to your stomach, your thighs, the outside of your pussy. beads of sweat stick your bodies together, and despite the heat, he doesn’t pull away. instead, he’s leaning in, pressing his forehead to your chest like a man praying—like cumming wasn’t enough. like this was just an offering, and there's still more to he's willing to give—lengths he’s willing to go.

“i miss you,” he breathes, gaze lidded and dazed. “that’s why i’m here.”

you don’t say.

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chiscaralight · 9 months ago

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don't fuck your enemy!

synopsis: you just so happened to end up drunk with your enemy in the club bathroom. what would be more fuck than punching him in the face? fucking him!

includes: nsfw! scara x reader public sex ish. slight degradation. unprotected bathroom sex, p in v sex, mentions of oral sex, reader is under the influence but its all consensual. slight car sex, little bit of regret. this feels new to me, but I absolutely loved writing it! based off a request that I will link here

“scaraaa…”

“quit whining.”

you’re wiggling your hips to him, as he struggles to get his belt off.

“you’re obnoxious. is this how you treat everyone you say you hate? slut.”

“and you’re the one feeding into it. just shut up and-“

the moan you let out is drowned in the music. it’s not loud enough to draw attention, but if anyone else is in the bathroom, they’d definitely hear it. it’s not your fault you’re in this position, after a couple of rounds of shots, this stupid, sexy man wouldn’t stop staring at you in what he says is ‘disgust’. hard to believe when he wasted no time in following through with your advances, pressing you against the stall wall and crashing his lips onto yours.

but yes, you’re a slut for letting him push his cock past your lips, keeping your eyes trained on him as he groaned about how good that felt when you weren’t spewing bullshit, or you nuzzling your head into his hand as he tangles his fingers in your well-done hair.

but no, he’s not a fucking whore for dragging you off the ground and for bunching your short dress up at your hips. nor is he one for pressing his lips against your skin, marking up and down your neck as his fingers glide over your clothed hole before pulling your panties into the side.

you won’t let it get to you now though, because the mixture of the alcohol making your mind spin, with the way the heat from his fingers is dancing around your body, tracing obscure shapes into the fat of your hips before sliding up to cup your breasts is enough to keep any other words out of your mouth, save for his name.

it’s almost insane how good he is because he’s rocking just enough to hit you with enough force, but not enough to shake the plastic frame of the makeshift wall. your hands are finding his wrists, trying to ground yourself to something, anything while he fucks your senses away in the bathroom of some upscale nightclub, trying to ground himself from how good you feel. this has to be wrong on so many levels, fucking you, after everything you’ve said, he’s said, you’ve done, he’s done?

that seems to be the least of your worries now because he can see your eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth as he slides a finger into the heat of your mouth. your reactions to his touch are quick, the way you jerk into his hand, or close your lips around his fingers like it was nothing. like it’s what you were made to do. his wet digits now slide back down towards your swollen clit, applying a certain pressure that has you crying out his name with that grating, gorgeous voice of yours. he doesn’t even have it in him to silence you, he’s twitching at the way it rolls off your tongue. fuck, if he knew you’d be this perfect, he would have cut the bullshit and bent you over long ago! but maybe it was more rewarding like this, fleeting memories of all the times he’s pumped his cock to the thought of your face moving through his mind, as your lewd expression brings him back to you.

he’s craning his head the slightest bit to catch your eye. when he does, you smile. and he could cum right then and there from the way your eyes crinkle at the corners through the flush of your cheeks. you mouth out a silent ‘kiss’, and he’s on you in an instant, tongue sliding against yours as the bitter taste of the alcohol finds its way toward him. but he doesn’t care about that. he’s more concerned about the way you’re starting to writhe and shake against him, becoming more and more unsettled with the lack of your own movement. so you do your best to stop him, pushing him off of you as you finally get to breathe. your words come out with a sweet giggle, finger pressing against his chest as your drunken state blurs your vision the slightest amount.

“wanna ride you, pretty boy.”

if anyone who didn’t know the two of you were to for some reason swing this door open now, they’d think the two of you were insatiable lovers who just couldn’t wait to make it home. to anyone that doesn’t know you, they’d probably have to wipe their eyes twice to pretend they weren’t seeing you bounce on scaramouche’s cock like this. he’s seated on the closed toilet lid, absolutely dazed as you ride him to bits. your nails are digging into his shoulders hard, giving you strong balance as you move with a determination even he can’t fathom. but you’ve been dreaming of this, finally getting him to shut up with that pussy or yours, it’s a shame you didn’t get to shove his face in it; but maybe it’s for the best. even in this mindset you know tomorrow is going to be full of headaches and a lot of unanswered questions, so why not enjoy the now? keep anything from getting too far. what exactly is too far you ask? you’re not sure either, because licking into each other's mouths while he fucks up into you would be seen as pretty far for some people.

and he breaks away first, lazy eyes searching yours as he mumbles about his coming orgasm. you’re smiling that stupid smile that makes his dick twitch again, and giving him a polite nod. his eyebrows furrow.

“inside? you sure?”

you’re rolling your eyes at the obscurity of it all. he can ‘discretely’ slide your expensive lace panties into his pocket, press you up against this gross wall, and even fuck you presumably drunk. but cumming inside you is weird.

“yes-yes! i’m sure. just-just hurry up,”

and he’s smacking his teeth at the tone of your voice, hand coming down strong on the swell of your ass while he starts to chase his orgasm. your breaths are shallow, deep with intent as you grind against him, brushing up close to him so you can release in tandem with him.

it works a little too well, because you’re spasming against him in a way that he’s never seen before. your orgasm, plus the feeling of his cum starting to paint your inside white hot with thick spurts is peeling away any reservations you had about this whole situation before, moans loud and cracking as you ride it out for the two of you. his head is hung back, adam’s apple bobbing only a slight bit as he comes to, the soft bite you give it making him snap his head back down before he pinches your thigh. you pout, but begin to get up nonetheless, because you’ve probably spent way too long in here already.

you're much more sober now, trying to ignore the daggers that scaramouche is glaring into your back as you adjust your outfit in the mirror.

"was the sex really that bad?"

the statement is supposed to sound snarky, but it comes out more desperate than anything. you clear your throat, focusing your attention on the paint on the floor instead, dreadfully anticipating how he will bite back this time. but he doesn't. instead, you're greeted with the plush of his lips against yours, hands finding a home on your hips omce again as you grip at his collar. you're moaning into his mouth once more, attempting to slide your tongue against his.

but he pulls away before you can, beelining for the exit door instead. your lips are in a hard pout. as you hear him mumble something about needing to go home. you also happen to catch the part where he more clearly states the exact parking space his car is in right now before letting the door swing shut.

you're alone with your thoughts now. your mind is much clearer, and you're visibly torn between doing the right thing, that is, going back to your friends and enjoying the party like you should've been, or going down and potentially making the same albeit lovely, very rewarding mistake twice. the way the 'fuck it' rolls off your tongue now is a secure answer to what you decide to do, quickly making your way towards where you hope your friends are before announcing that you'll be on your way.

it's been minutes, seven exactly, scaramouche is counting. he shouldn't be here, he should've left immediately he stuck the key in the ignition. but he's waiting rather impatiently, in hopes that you'd find your way down. he knows you're not stupid, he knows you would regret it, hell, he should be regretting it too. but that annoying little feeling in his heart won't let him pull out of the space just yet. and thank archons for that, because he can see the pattern of your dress outside his tinted window as you tap on the glass.

the silence once you get in is stupidly uncomfortable. the air is thick with tension, both of you avoiding each other's gazes as the impact of your previous actions weighs in the air. scaramouche takes the initiative to speak first.

"we should-"

"your windows are tinted. can you eat me out?"

he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"you're absolutely insufferable."

"l-less talking, please."

he'll roll his eyes, but dip his head back down between your legs all the same. you're sprawled out in his back seat, fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue assaults your folds. maybe the first kiss was a mistake, maybe him fucking you against the wall was a big mistake. but his fingers sliding into you now? curling just exactly where they should be? there's no mistake here.

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #gi smut #wanderer smut #scara smut #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader smut #gi scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader smut #scara x reader #wanderer x reader smut #wanderer x reader #chiscaralight

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celestemona · 10 months ago

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⋆˙⟡ — FOUR TIMES MUALANI SUSPECTED SOMETHING WAS GOING ON (AND ONE TIME SHE WAS RIGHT)

pairing: kinich x reader

cw: no pronouns mentioned. ajaw is in a vacation. slight but not slight pda. mualani overreacting but she is a sweet. best friends trio. pyro vision reader mentioned. not beta-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Mualani knew Kinich and you were friends—close best friends, just like you two were with her—but lately, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

It started with little things, almost too subtle to be noticeable but somehow it didn’t escape from her perception. Things like how Kinich, ever the quiet guy, had begun lingering a little too long when he talked to you, or how you’d run all your way to the Scions of the Canopy's village just to welcome him back after a mission.

At first, she didn’t pay too much attention thinking you guys were just being more affectionative and caring to each other. However, as time passed by, it has been shown to be more than a mutual friendly appreciation and certainly beyond a mere coincidence.

The first time Mualani noticed something different was in an early morning by the coast, watching the waves curl and crash. She often started her day stretching at the shore and riding the first waves of dawn. But this time, as she rounded a cliff, she spotted Kinich and you sitting on a rock overlooking the sea. The two of you were close enough that your arms brushed every time the wind picked up.

Kinich’s usual stern expression was softer than usual. Mualani squinted at you suspiciously. Were you... holding hands?

She jogged closer, but just as she got near enough to say something, Kinich quickly stood up, putting a considerable distance between you and himself. “You're up early,” he said, his voice in its usual calm.

You smiled warmly. “Hey girl! How are the waves? We were just discussing about it.”

Mualani tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “You were? Really?”

You let out a light and confusing laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course.”

She didn’t quite buy it, but you didn’t give her any reason to push further. “Well, the waves are good today! You guys joining?”

Kinich only gave her a polite headshaking, while you nodded smiling. Maybe she was imagining things.

II.

Except she wasn’t.

A few days later, you were hanging out by Tequemecan Valley' canyons with Kinich standing quietly while you and Mualani chatted. However, every time she glanced toward him, Kinich seemed to be watching you a little too intently. It wasn’t the usual hunter’s focus; it was softer, caring, almost like... adoring.

The girl squinted, pretending to be interested in some flowers nearby while keeping an eye on you two. You didn’t seem to notice anything, or if did, you didn’t mind. You just kept talking, your laughter filling the air.

When Mualani caught Kinich staring again, she couldn’t help but ask, “Kinich, you okay? You’ve been zoning out all day.”

He blinked, his neutral mask slipping back into place. “I’m fine.”

“He’s just tired from all the training,” you teased, winking at him.

Mualani raised an eyebrow, astonished by the scene before her eyes. Something was definitely going on.

III.

The third time came on a day when Mualani was guiding a group of Sumeru’s travelers near the springs when she spotted you and Kinich again, standing by the water. As she approached, she saw Kinich leaning down to whisper something to you, his lips close to your ear. You giggled softly in response.

Wait a minute... Kinich never whispers to anyone. Much less in such an intimate way and even less to make someone laugh. Mualani's instincts flared up immediately. What was he saying? And why did you look so happy about it?

She cleared her throat loudly as she walked up. “Hey. What are you two whispering about?”

Kinich straightened up quickly, crossing his arms. “Nothing important.”

You smiled at her, but there was a glimmer in your eyes that made the girl even more suspicious. “Just a silly joke,” you said lightly.

A joke, huh? Mualani filed it away in her mind. This time she was very determined to figure out what was going on between you two.

IV.

It was late afternoon, and Mualani had just finished surfing when she saw you two by the waterside. Kinich and you stood close, so close as it has strangely been, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn Kinich was about to lean in and kiss you.

She froze, watching from a distance as you smiled up at him, your palm softly pushing his chest away. Were you two really about to kiss? It couldn’t be just her angle view. Could it be?

But just as quickly as it happened, Kinich stepped back, his usual stoic demeanor falling back into place. You turned and waved at her, your smile as bright as ever.

“Lani. Hey! How was the surf?” you called out.

Mualani, still in shock, shook her head. “Uh... good. Really good.”

She stared at you both for a moment longer, convinced she’d almost witnessed something, but there was no proof. Again.

In the several days that followed, Mualani continued to witness that strangeness that kept repeating itself every time you thought she wasn’t around, creating a certain tension between her and you and Kinich—although she doubted that you had noticed any difference, treating her as you always did from the beginning.

Even if it relieved her to know that nothing had changed in your friendship, the surfer couldn't help but feel upset too. Was it that bad if she found out? Didn't you trust her the same way she trusted you? She wanted to be able to release all of her thoughts and ask you if maybe there was something in your bond that was bothering you. But she didn't. And so, things remained the same.

That was a quiet evening, and the moon hung low over the mountains. Mualani had been taking a stroll, enjoying the peaceful night, when she stumbled upon you.

This time, though, there was no mistaking it—Kinich and you stood together under some trees, locked in a slow, deep kiss.

The girl’s cheeks burned as red as the pyro vision you hold so dear closely, eyes widely opening and heart skipping a beat. She gasped, louder than she intended, and both of you quickly turned toward her. You blinked twice before smiling stiffly, even daring to look a bit embarrassed, while Kinich gave her a calm look, his hands still resting on your waist.

“You two!” She exclaimed shaking her head, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier! I mean, I knew something was up, but really?”

You bit your lip while Kinich just blinked at her, slightly starting to look more guilty as well.

“We didn’t mean to keep it from you for long,” you said as you stepped out of Kinich’s arms and reached for her hand. “We were just... taking our time.”

Mualani arched an eyebrow. “Taking your time? You two were being so weird and annoying with all those suspicious interactions for weeks now! I’m supposed to be your best friend!”

Kinich rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “We wanted to keep it quiet,” he said, his voice low. “At first, anyway.”

Mualani softened, her fake scold melting away into genuine affection. “Still, I would’ve loved to know sooner,” she said, her tone gentler now. “You know me better than anyone else. You know I would never judge you,” she sighed as she watches the sorrow on your face. “Nevertheless, I’m really happy for you both. Really am.”

You beamed and even Kinich’s usual stoic expression seemed to relax slightly.

Mualani continued, her voice full of warmth. “I’ve always known you two had something special. And now that I know for sure, you better believe I’m fully on board with this!” She shot Kinich a playful look. “Just make sure you treat (Y/N) right, okay?”

Kinich nodded, his eyes softening as he glanced at you. “I will.”

You squeezed Mualani’s hand, your eyes sparkling with gratitude and pure happiness. “Thank you, Lani. Your support means a lot to us.”

Mualani grinned, pulling you both into a tight hug. “Just don’t keep secrets from me again, alright? I’m always here for you two.”

You all laughed but shared a quick but sweet bond moment, the atmosphere light and easy. And somehow, Mualani couldn’t help but feel like everything had fallen into place just the way it was meant to.

“But just for your information. If the day comes of you get engaged and don’t tell me immediately, I’ll crash the proposal myself, make a huge scene, and tell everyone how long I’ve had to put up with your not so secret glances and not so subtle hand-holding. Trust me, it won’t be pretty!”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kinich #kinich x reader #mualani

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goalhofer · 9 days ago

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Top 10 MiLB RBI leaders: week 13

10: Yonathan Perlaza, El Paso (49) 9: James Outman, Oklahoma City (49) 8: Ryan Ward, Oklahoma City (50) 7: Linton Crim, Round Rock (50) 6: Alex Freeland, Oklahoma City (51) 5: Joseph Mancini III, Reno (53) 4: Trenton Brooks, El Paso (54) 3: Otto Kemp, Lehigh Valley (55) 2: Bob Seymour, Durham (55) 1: Colby Thomas, Las Vegas (59)

#Top 10 #Sports #Baseball #MiLB #Las Vegas Aviators #Durham Bulls #Lehigh Valley IronPigs #El Paso Chihuahuas #Reno Aces #Oklahoma City Comets #Round Rock Express

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baby-yongbok · 2 months ago

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"Let Me Make You a Mommy"

SKZ Maknae Line x Reader

⤷ Smut | drabbles/hard thoughts

⤷ WC - 1.7k [total]

⤷ CW - breeding kink, rough sex, creampie, degradation, praise, teasing, unprotected sex,

⤷ A/N: It's Maknae Line Time! ... Somehow Seungmin and Innie's ended up being the longest ... anyway, I hope you enjoy♡

Hyung Line | ⋆｡‧˚ʚ Masterlist ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Han

He's a mess above you, hair damp with sweat, mouth parted, hands gripping the backs of your knees to keep you spread open for him. The headboard slams against the wall with every thrust, the bed creaking like it’s begging for mercy. But he doesn't slow down. He can’t even fathom the thought of stopping.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he groans, voice cracking as he slams in deep again. “You feel so good, baby. So tight. So wet—shit, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

You’re already half-gone, body rocking with every thrust, barely able to keep your eyes open with how hard he’s taking you. Han fucks you like he’s made for it and you take it like it’s all you know how to do. It’s carnal how he presses you open, fucking a whimper out of your throat every time his hips slam home, like he’s trying to brand you from the inside out—like he won’t stop until your cunt forgets anyone who isn’t him.

He leans down suddenly, forearms bracketing your head, hips still pounding into you without pause. His forehead rests against yours and he moans—loud—like your body’s dragging the truth out of him.

Then he says it.

“Let me make you a mommy.”

Your whole body locks up. His doesn’t. He slams into you harder.

“You want that?” he pants, words slurred and frantic. “Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you?”

“Ji—”

“Bet you’d look so good,” he growls, eyes blown wide, totally wrecked. “Walking around full. Round. Dripping with me.”

You whimper, and that sound breaks him—he starts babbling, so close, completely unhinged.

“Wanna see you take it. All of it. Wanna come so deep you leak for hours. Wanna ruin you—fuck, wanna keep you like this.”

He kisses you sloppily��teeth, tongue, need—and then pulls back just enough to watch your face.

“Gonna give it to you, okay?” he gasps. “Gonna come inside you like you were made for it.”

One more thrust. One more shattered moan.

And then he’s spilling into you—loud, twitching, clutching you like he needs to anchor himself to survive it.

He doesn’t stop moving, just slower now, grinding into you like he wants to make sure every drop stays.

“Shit,” he breathes, blinking hard, chest heaving. “I meant that. Every word.”

And you know he did—because Jisung never says what he doesn’t mean. Especially not when he’s this gone.

Felix

He moans when you pull him in deeper—legs wrapped around his waist, nails scraping down his back. His body is flushed and slick with sweat, golden skin glowing in the dim light as he thrusts into you, slow at first, savoring the drag.

“You feel so good,” he whispers, voice low, eyes locked on yours. “So fucking perfect for me.”

You tighten around him and his breath catches, hips faltering just a bit.

“You’re everything,” he says, like a prayer. “Don’t wanna be anywhere else.”

His hands cradle your face as he fucks you, tender and steady, like he can’t believe he gets to have you like this.

But then your fingers slide into his hair—tug just a little—and the sound he makes isn’t soft. It’s raw. And suddenly his pace changes. Faster. Deeper. More desperate.

“I want—” he gasps, cutting himself off with a groan. “I want something.”

“Tell me.”

He hesitates. Thrusts hard once, and again, and then—

“Let me make you a mommy.”

The words come out breathless. Shaky. Like he’s been holding them in.

You blink up at him, stunned, and his face breaks into this wrecked, needy expression.

“I think about it,” he pants, fucking you harder now, voice dropping into something rough and gritty, close to a growl. “Think about coming inside you. Filling you up. Watching you swell with me.”

You moan—loud—and his grip tightens.

“You’d be so beautiful,” he says, voice cracking. “You already are. But like that? Mine?”

His rhythm starts to lose its smoothness—hips snapping with less control, mouth parted, breath caught on every thrust.

“I’ll be good,” he whimpers, forehead falling to your shoulder. “I’ll take care of you. Everything. Just let me do this. Let me give you something.”

He comes with a cry muffled against your skin—body trembling, cock buried deep as he spills into you. He doesn’t move for a while, just stays pressed against you, breathing hard, whispering soft nothings into your shoulder.

And then, when he finally pulls back to look at you—eyes dark, voice barely audible—

“I want all of you. Always have.”

Seungmin

“Look at you,” Seungmin mutters, voice like hot iron cutting through the haze as he drags his cock slow and deep. “Already cockdumb and I’ve barely even started.”

Your hands are fisting the sheets. Back arched. Lips parted as he keeps you there—legs wide, hips tilted just how he wants them. The way he fucks you is deliberate. Precise. Like every thrust has a goal.

You try to say his name, but all that comes out is a broken whimper.

He leans down until his forehead is brushing yours, hips still rolling in maddening rhythm. “So good for me,” he breathes. “Take me so well. Always do.”

And then he goes still. Deep inside you. Not moving.

His hand curls under your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“You want everything from me, don’t you?” he says, voice low and sharp. “You want me to fuck you full. Fill you up until it sticks.”

You can barely breathe.

His thumb brushes your bottom lip as his cock twitches inside you.

“Let me make you a mommy.”

You gasp. The way he says it—like he’s offering a crown and daring you not to kneel for it.

“I bet you think about it,” he whispers. “I know you do, I do too, all the time. Watching you swell with me. With us.”

Your body clenches around him involuntarily.

He groans, low in his throat—and then it all shifts into something heavier. What comes next is pure fire behind the eyes.

“Say it back.”

You blink, breath shuddering.

His voice drops. “You heard me. Say it. Say you want me to make you a mommy.”

“Seungmin—”

“Uh-uh” He thrusts once, sharp and deep, and you cry out. That was a warning. “Say it.”

You’re shaking, heart pounding, every nerve ending lit up like a live wire—and he’s watching all of it, waiting. Not letting you look away.

“Say it, baby,” he murmurs, voice dangerously soft. “Or I’ll stop right now.”

You don’t even think.

“Make me a mommy.”

He goes still again. Eyes dark. Breathing hard.

“Again,” he rasps.

“Please, Seungmin—make me a mommy.”

And then he’s gone. All restraint snaps as he drives into you with brutal precision, fucking you like he’s trying to etch himself into your DNA.

“Good girl,” he grits. “So fucking good for me.”

You can’t think. You’re crying his name, legs shaking, nails digging into his shoulders as he fills you deep, deep, deeper, like he’s trying to give you every drop he has.

And when he comes—buried inside, panting against your skin—he says it again, this time like a promise:

“We’ll make it real. Just say when.”

Jeongin

You’re testing him—and you both know it.

Feet in his lap, short skirt riding up your thighs, head tilted like you’re innocent. But your smirk says otherwise.

“I don’t know if you could handle me,” you tease, swirling your wine glass, legs slowly parting as he watches, sharp-eyed and far too quiet.

Jeongin doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t bite back. He just shifts—broad shoulders rolling, a slow smirk rising like a storm behind his eyes.

“I don’t want to handle you,” he says low, fingers dragging up your shin. “I want to ruin you.”

You blink. The air thickens.

He sets your glass aside, pushes your legs open with a firm hand and leans in, lips brushing your ear as he murmurs, “I know that’s what you really want too, isn’t it?”

He moves you, you barely register it until your hips are in the air, ass up for him and he pries your legs apart. You moan, gripping the couch cushions like they’ll save you.

“You want it?” he growls, fingers digging into your waist like he’s deciding how rough he wants to get. “You want me to fuck you stupid?”

You look back at him, just barely—biting back a smile, biting back a moan. “You’ve been talking a lot, Jeongin,” you pant. “Still waiting for you to actually do it.”

That’s all it takes.

His eyes go dark, pupils blown, and he’s on you before you can blink.

He flips up your skirt and you yelp when his hand comes down in a harsh slap that makes you jolt. You feel him moving, you can hear the clinking of his belt then the drag of his zipper.

“You keep teasing like you’re not desperate for this,” he says, cock pressing right at your entrance, thick and pulsing. “But I can feel how ready you are. All wet, waiting for me to fill you up.”

“Jeongin—”

“You want it?” he growls. “You want me to breed you?” He slips in easily, groaning at just how ready you are to be torn apart.

You whimper—pathetic and honest.

One hand snaps to your throat, wrapping his fingers around and dragging you up against him, your back to his chest and the breath knocked out of you as he buries himself.

“Still waiting?” he sneers against your jaw. “You’ve got a smart mouth for someone already shaking.”

Your previous bratitude fades the second he thrusts, hard and slow—obscene.

“You’re gonna be sorry you said that,” he whispers, tightening his grip just enough to make your pulse stutter. “Or is this what you wanted?” You whimper.

He’s fucking you like a threat. Every drag of his hips a punishment—every thrust precise, overwhelming, relentless. His hand slips between your legs, thumb circling your clit like he knows just how to end you. And he does—tears slipping from your eyes as your body tightens around him.

“Let me make you a mommy.”

Your pulse stutters.

His mouth finds your throat. He kisses slow—possessive.

“You’re gonna take it,” he hisses, “And you’re not gonna spill a fucking drop.”

You don’t answer—you can’t. But the way your hips buck and your fingers claw at his forearms says enough. He spills into you with a guttural curse, eyes locked on yours like he’s never letting you go.

And he won’t. Not now. Not when you’re his.

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#stray kids headcanons #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #han jisung x reader #jeongin x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz au #stray kids scenarios #skz smut #skz #stray kids smut #stray kids maknae line

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cherrygirlfriend · 2 months ago

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can you do bsf!rafe and reader getting a pregnancy scare and rafe gets a littleeeee excited but its negative at the end.

count the lines

best friend reader and rafe have a pregnancy scare. thank you for the request!! writing this was sm fun

late for 7 days was displayed on your period tracker, your heart beating so loudly you could hear it in your ears, your head in your hands. the doorbell rang, and you rushed to it, already knowing who was going to be behind the door.

rafe had a casual smirk on his face when you opened the door, quickly dropping when he saw the panicked expression on yours. “what’s wrong?” your friend asked, his hands taking hold of your forearms as you let out a sob, “hey, talk to me, baby. what’s wrong?”

“my life’s over…” you mumbled through a sob as rafe pulled you into his chest, letting out soft hushes, his hand at the back of your head, pulling you into him, “‘s okay… just talk to me, baby…”

rafe led you to the couch and sat you down, still keeping you pressed against his sigh as he patiently waited for your cries to subside. you took a deep, shaky breath, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “i… i have to tell you something, rafe,”

“go ahead.” he tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, “whatever it is, i’m sure we can-“

“i think i’m pregnant.” you could basically hear rafe’s jaw drop open at the confession you blurted out, turning to look at the boy who was moving his lips without any words leaving them, making you backpedal, “i-i mean, i don’t know for sure.” you cleared your throat, your voice scratchy, “i’m late by a week. i… i haven’t taken a test yet.”

“fuck…” rafe let out a long breath, his eyes wide, “you, uh, do you have one? a test?”

“i do. i’ve just been busy freaking out.” you scoffed out a laugh and shook your head, “i haven’t been late in… years. i don’t know what else it could be…”

“alright, let’s just… take the test, yeah? we can talk about things after we get the result.” rafe pressed a kiss on top of your head, tugging you close.

as rafe waited for you to get out of the bathroom, tapping the heel of his shoe against the floor, his hands crossed in thought. he couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like if you actually were pregnant. how you’d look with your stomach round with his child, wearing one of those sundresses you were obsessed with during summertime. a twisted part of him thought about how having a baby with you would tie you to him forever, to force you to be in his life for the rest of yours.

he thought about you being a mother, holding your newborn in your arms for the first time, a tired smile on your face, your hair sweaty as you rocked the baby in your arms, rafe’s heart warm as he sat down on the hospital bed, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close to him as he looked down at the baby. “they’re perfect.” he’d mumble into the side of your head as he pressed a kiss there.

if it was a boy, he’d teach them football. if it was a girl, he’d keep a shotgun in hand to make sure no boy would come near her.

rafe’s thoughts were interrupted by the bathroom door opening and you coming out, a wide smile on your face as you held up the pregnancy test, one red line visible, “i’m not pregnant.” you sighed in relief. he got off the couch and walked to you, pulling you into his arms.

“that’s good. that’s a relief.” rafe mumbled, yet a part of him couldn’t help but be disappointed. the boy just knew you’d make a great mother. and you were to have a child with anyone, it better be him.

oh well. rafe would just have to try harder to knock you up.

feel free to send requests and check out my masterlist! 𓏲 ˖ 𓍯 . ⁺ 🪽

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lily-bisque · 19 days ago

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toji know's how to hit you where it hurts. hurt/mild comfort. wc: 3k

A heavy, black mood settled in your living room, with you standing on one side of the couch, and Toji on the other. A wicked snarl painted his face as he leaned forward, making him nearly unrecognizable from the man you knew, the man you loved, mouth contorting as he spat venom in your direction.

He’d been coming home wasted after his shifts recently. Kicking his shoes off in the foyer, stumbling and shedding his clothing right in the kitchen, and collapsing in your shared bed without even a word to you.

Worried as you were, you’d asked him about it after the first couple of nights, but you’d only been met with mutters and huffs, asking you to lay off him.

So you did. Allowed him to process whatever it was he needed to. When it came to his occupation, he never let you in much. Never gave you the details of his missions or showed if it affected him. He liked to keep his work and personal life separate.

But now that carefully drawn border was blurring, Toji teetering on the precipice of the straining overload that was beginning to consume his every waking thought.

Even with you, he couldn’t seem to escape it.

Instead, he stopped at the bar for a drink, which turned into a couple, which turned into a concerning amount where the waitstaff kicked him out routinely from how intoxicated he was and causing a scene.

You didn’t have to know about the brutal nature of his job, he preferred it like that.

In spite of that, you began to nag and itch at him for every fucking thing. Asking too many questions for your own good, and lingering with that pitiful expression that made his skin crawl.

He could barely look at you.

And now you were cowering, fingers twitching at your side as tears cascaded down your cheeks. Saying how you couldn’t recognize him anymore.

It made him sick.

But, in truth, deep down, in the grotesque depths of his gut, twisting in shame and contrite, he couldn’t recognize himself either.

He’d wash his hands of sticky, still warm blood in some cheap motel, wringing his compression shirt of any evidence before staring at himself in the mirror for hours. He wasn’t quite sure who was staring back at him.

At some point in his wrath, he’d lost himself.

And he was beginning to lose you, too.

So why delay the inevitable?

“You stick ‘round me ‘cause I’m your new charity case,” he slurred out with malice, eyes red-rimmed as he gripped the headrest of the couch until his knuckles paled. “You pity me. I fuckin’ see it every morning when I wake up, and every night.”

You scowled, a fresh set of tears flowing down your heated cheeks. “So you’re saying all the time I’ve spent loving you was because… because–” You threw your hands into the air, chest heaving as you swallowed a thick lump akin to a rock in your throat, body rigid and shoulders tensed. “That this was all because I felt bad for you?”

Your pinched face and frigid features unlike your soft demeanor made his body run cold despite the rising heat in the room. But Toji was conscientious. He left no ends untied. He always finished what he started, even if it killed him to do so in the act.

“Or to feed that savior complex of yours. You see anything broken, you’d crawl to the depths of hell to mend it,” he asserted, eyes narrowing like slits as he gave you a once-over short of nothing offended, repulsed.

But he wasn’t done, not yet. He took a sharp inhale, hoping his knees would buckle and the world would swallow him whole before his misplaced anger spoke for him.

“Easy for your consciousness to make you forget just how screwed your life’s always been.”

The nail in the coffin.

Your body went stiff as cardboard, breath hitching as your blurry eyes went wide.

Fushiguro Toji, the sole person in your life you knew you could rely on after all of these years, used the one thing he knew to hurt you. To slide the knife deeper.

You’d always been fragile when it came to your shaky upbringing, and you’d only opened up to him when you felt vulnerable with him and knew for a fact he wouldn’t judge you for your past.

And he hadn’t. He’d held you in his arms, whispering and muttering endearments and praises of just how strong you’d been despite it all. Initially, he even felt empathy as he could relate. You were one of the few people he could relate to in that sense.

Yet somewhere along the way, his mind had become such a muddled mess of his emotions. He was no longer rational. He couldn’t see straight.

But Toji emanated no regret, no remorse, not a sliver of empathy. He just stood there, his body stock, still save for his heaving chest, a prominent, smug grin on his mouth, like he was fucking proud of himself.

Your breaths quickened, the edges of your vision darkening as a horrible sense of dread washed over you.

You needed to get out of here.

Looking back, you couldn’t remember much, how you scrambled to shove your things into a small duffel bag and the loud sobs that left your lips as you did so.

You didn’t remember to grab your toothbrush or any underwear.

Didn’t grab a single photo to keep with you.

All you could make out of that night was the way Toji didn’t move from where he stood. He was like a statue, feet planted in stone behind the couch, imbued in the very ground below him. Not sparing even a glance in your direction.

He became a ghost in his own home.

You didn’t care that it was freezing outside. Nothing could rival the icy chill in your bones.

Didn’t care that the motel that you checked into probably scammed you in your frantic state.

Didn’t bother changing out of your clothing littered with your tears and snot.

Didn’t bother sliding beneath the blanket, the itchy linen would do nothing of comfort for you now.

You just curled up, a pillow in your arms as your eyes became dry wells, empty and staring blankly ahead.

There were some things with Toji you could forgive, like his spending habits or snarky attitude, but this was too simply too much.

You knew his words had now torn the already frayed edges of your psyche. You were inconsolable, and left to mend the shattered pieces of yourself all on your own.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You weren’t sure how many days you’d now spent at the motel. In truth, you didn’t care if it drained your savings.

There was nowhere else for you to stay, no second home you could go to to get back on your feet. You’d managed to leave your personal documents back at your place with Toji, but you’d be damned if you took a step inside of there right now, a home haunted by memories with the person you thought you’d be buried beside.

So you went to work. A bleary job at the convenience store around the corner. Selling cheap cigarettes, gum, beer and gas for hours on end. Mind mushed and eyes puffy and blank as you punched something into the screen you weren’t quite registering.

Small talk was stifling, like a vice to your throat.

You felt like you’d been submerged in ice water–your head just beneath the surface as everything dulled to a murmur, your body settled in a consistent, stabbing chill. You were slowly suffocating, the one thing that made it easy to breathe now wrapped around your ankle and tugging you deeper.

You took on extra shifts, terrified to go back to the motel alone and stare at the wall, nothing to distract you from the ache in your chest.

Your manager asked if you were alright after eyeing your withered state. You gave them feigned reassurance and a smile that hurt your cheeks.

Your appetite was practically nonexistent. You’d pick at the reheated pasta you attempted to shove down your throat the previous night before tossing it out.

Sleep was of no evasion–restless nights spent tossing and turning, sweat like a second skin, as you replayed moments and were unsure if you’d made them up or if they were true.

You began to shuffle through life, enduring one day after another as they blended depressingly into each other, a montage of gloomy moments strung together.

Until something out of the ordinary fizzled into your reality–your detached mind wasn’t quite sure if you were dreaming or not. An issue you’d become familiar with as of late.

You ignored it, walking past it without a second glance and shut the motel door behind you before dragging your heavy limbs towards the shower.

But then there it was again. Same place, but it looked different, new clothing.

You squinted your eyes, clearing your hoarse throat, then stared blankly ahead at your door before stepping in your room and locking the door.

Then, on the third day, they walked towards you and wrapped a firm, familiar hand around your wrist and pulled you towards them. You couldn’t make it out, their voice muffled as you were still in the depths of that lake, before your vision cleared and you deciphered their face.

Your heart rate quickened as your eyes went owly, pulling away from his grip. But he held fast, still speaking but you weren’t hearing a word of it. Like a Chinese finger trap, each wringing movement only made him tighten his grasp.

“Let go,” you coughed out, mouth desert dry as you hadn’t had a lick of water in days. You were too weak to free yourself from his unrelenting grip from days of not taking care of yourself.

His forearms that looked to be cut from marble, flexed when he saw how you trembled in his grasp, bile tasting on his tongue as he made it known to himself exactly whose fault it was that made you like this.

You were unrecognizable, that gleam in your eyes he’d seen when he first met you, the fire in your eyes snuffed out.

You fought against him, strangled shouts of demanding he release you, face coiled in anger with something fractured just simmering beneath the surface, your cries broken and shrill.

He couldn’t meet your eyes, nor could you meet his.

He averted his gaze, his composure faltering by each passing second, his tongue a thick wad of muscle resting in his mouth. He was far too ashamed to utter anything to you.

The sky was now tempestuous, a deep and dark grey that held heavy above your heads, mocking the turmoil coiling between the two of you.

Toji was too ashamed of an admission that if he could take it all back, he would. That he desperately needed you, not the other way around. That he’d been pulverised to something he couldn’t recognize in your absence.

That the one thing that remained true was that you didn’t pity him, but he pitied himself to accept such unconditional love. He was so deeply insecure that he pushed away anything when it got too hard, when it began to puncture the bubble of safety he’d wrapped so carefully around himself over the years.

Your fists pounded into his chest, and he wanted to claw at the ache in his chest that seemed to grow with each passing second.

In your flailing state, a man of such formidable strength could easily have subdued you.

But Toji was weak when it came to you–you’d stripped him bare to his smallest, most repulsive layers and still loved him when you held them in your palm.

His teeth gritted against each other each moment he recalled just how spineless he’d been when you were simply reaching out. Toji couldn’t even reach you halfway, no. He sliced any tether that held the two of you together.

But he’d rather meet an early demise than not have you in his life. He was going to work at it, every single day, until he could hold you in his arms as his again. Until he could pepper kisses against the column of your neck in a way that made you squirm, until he could trace the dips and curves along your form, until he could watch the expressions you made as you unraveled beneath him, whining and exposed to your rawest nature as he pushed into you.

Your body began to tremble as you exhausted your efforts, out of breath and muttering cries to yourself under your breath mixed with curses condemning Toji to hell.

Until your tears worked their way up again, your body weakening as you convulsed in his tight hold of your arms. Until you collapsed against his chest.

Your fingers curled in the fabric of his jacket, face digging into his chest like you’d done thousands of times before, pleading to Toji something neither of you could understand.

Did you want him to free you from this hellish torment? Spare you from any more of his hurt? Or for him to hold you like his again?

For the first time Toji could count, his hands trembled. They wavered above your back with reluctance. Your tears stained his shirt, wetting the skin beneath and burning him. Reminders that these were tears he caused.

He felt like he couldn’t breath, his lungs stuffed with cotton. His legs were rendered useless as he could barely take a step forward, or backward.

He needed to move. He knew it, he repeated it over and over in his blank-slated mind until he was able to will himself to do so.

The two of you had yet to notice the drops of water that sprinkled onto the pavement, slicking the ground.

With apprehension, his hand brushed against your back, a warmth suddenly heating his palm, calloused from years of strain. He began to question if he even deserved such an act, rendering him foolish as he started to skim his fingers through your hair.

He had been so catty and abrasive with you, pouring anything good he had with you down the drain with a couple sentences of words to hit you where it hurt.

He tugged his bruised bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing at the same spot he’d been doing for days. The difference was he tasted copper on his tongue now.

You don’t know how long the two of you stood there, bodies drenched from the rain, hair matted with water, clothing that clung uncomfortably to you.

A hiccup left your lip well after your sobs died down.

Toji slipped a hand into your pocket, pulling your motel keys from them before lifting you into his arms.

You didn’t fight him this time, resigned to your exhaustion and something else you didn’t want to address.

He kicked the door shut after stepping in, expression sober as he walked straight for the bathroom, not even caring about all of the mud and rainwater he’d tracked in.

He sat you on the counter, then turned the shower faucet on.

You sat limp, nose stuffed and sniffling, skin paled.

He began to undress you carefully, tugging your top over your head and slipping your jeans off along with your panties. He unclasped your soaked bra and tossed it on the pile on the ground, then began to undress himself.

You weren’t entirely focused on all of his movements, something akin to familiarity wrenching in your chest.

He pulled you off of the counter and carried you into the shower before letting you settle on your own two feet.

He grabbed the measly bottle of motel shampoo and began to work it through your hair, the hot temperature he’d always shower with scalding your skin.

You stood there, letting him work the suds off before he began to scrub away at your body.

Toji had always been a rough-handed man, but the way he tended to you so delicately, like you were a prized piece of China he held in his palm, afraid to crack it with his brute, made you nauseous.

You stood there as he cleaned himself off.

The air was steamy and suffocating, a humid temperature billowing before he shut the water off.

The two of you smelled of the same soap.

He wrapped you in an abundance of towels, making sure to wipe away any lingering tears. His feather-light touch made you shiver as he dried you off.

He propped a window open, before making the bed.

Sifting through the cabinets, he found a hairdryer and did his best to figure out how exactly they worked before ruffling it through your hair.

You shut your eyes, for a moment pretending like everything in the world wasn’t wrong when it was starting to feel right.

His meaty fingers attempted to braid your hair back, but it looked disheveled and disarrayed.

You didn’t care.

He lifted you up once again, the both of your bare skins grazing against each other in a matter so intimate you could feel your heart sinking to the depths of your gut.

He lifted the sheets, before laying you down.

Then he laid beside you.

Without a moment of hesitation, like it was second nature, he pulled you against his chest, his bulky arms engulfing you in his large form.

Your breath stilled as his breaths began to pick up, his heartbeat quickening beside your ear.

You felt something wet touch your scalp.

He cradled you like a dove.

And then he began to whisper your name out, heady and abject. His voice was swimming with repentance as it started to crack.

He apologized profusely, in a hushed tone for only you to hear. Swore on you like you were his salvation. In his misery, he beseeched you to curse him, a promise that he’d never forget, whispered in the night.

Nothing was fixed, not right now. You weren’t sure if it ever would be.

You weren’t sure how to describe the gnawing feeling in your gut.

Toji could barely rest without your forgiveness, but for now, this would have to do. Your breaths synced, chests rising and falling in tandem, as slumber took the both of you.

910 notes · View notes

dirtylilspawn · 3 months ago

Text

ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴏᴀᴅᴇᴅ sᴇɴsᴇs

Summary: Rafayel can't seem to get enough of your body.

Fandom: Love & Deepspace

Paring: [Rafayel x Fem!Reader]

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: NSFW (18+), porn w/o plot, slight obsession, intense smut, heavy biting, marking, previous multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, over stimulation, nosebleed, dumbification, dacryphilia, bits of fluff, bulge, lots of cum, heavy squirting, praise, pheromones, blood licking, saliva trade, reeeaally horny & degenerate dom!rafayel, doggy & mating press, rough sex, passing out

"More...give me more princess~"

The room was humid, filled with the scent of lust and sex. Your body rocking with his hard thrusts, as you lay on your stomach, head buried into the sheets while your artistic boyfriend held your hips up to his pelvis with an iron grip. Both of you were you fully naked, as Rafayel took you from behind, his cock ramming itself deep within your tired yet stimming walls. You were on your fifth round with him, two of those rounds involving his mouth ravishing your juicy cunt as he drank up all of your essence.

"Raf! I-I can't -aagh- any mooore..."

Rafayel continued to pound into your pussy, his eyes hooded and clouded with desire. His purple hair damp, bangs falling over his eyes, clinging to his forehead. He watched as his hands grip upon your, spreading your cheeks just to see the delicious site in front of him. There down below was his big cock splitting you wide open for him, he could see his previous loads mixed with your cum coating hid dick. The dirty sounds of your pussy squeezing him, the sick squelching noises filling his ears. And dear god, the smell! Your scent surrounded this man with no hesitation or warning, filling every pour of his. It was enough to make anyone insane, he was truly pussy drunk of your pheromones.

"Ngh! You can...you're my strong bodyguard after all~"

You gasp as you felt Rafayel right hand come in contact with gripping your wrist. He then pulls your arm from behind your back, making your chest rise up from bed. Your knees back in full motion as you have to use your abdominal muscle to sit up. Your right hand grips the sheets as you balance yourself to stay up right, but Raf made it easier as his left and was placed around your waist, holding your tightly. While his chest was slightly pressed against your back. Your breasts swayed below you as he thrusts hard, balls slapping against your ass.

"Fuck [Y/N], I love your body so much!"

His lips were pressing soft kisses along your back, his tongue licking the stripes of sweat that dripped down your back. His mouth moves to your arm he held prisoner, lips sucking on the delectable skin of yours. Rafayel then moved his mouth towards your neck, instantly taking a hard bite to the jugular. You head snaps back, teeth biting your lip from the pain and pleasure mixing into one. His teeth digged into the flesh, making an indent mark whilst drawing bits of blood to the surface. Tears roll down your cheeks, covering up the old tears that dried up.

This wasn't the first bite mark he made on you. There were multiple hickies and bites littered around your skin. Ranging down to your ass and thighs, to your stomach and breasts. He even suggested you mark him, as there were a few bites visible around his neck. The red circular indent gracing his pale soft skin made your stomach turn.

Rafayel lifted his head from your neck, watching as the bits of blood stream down your shoulder. He grins at this before using his slick tongue to gather the blood up, moaning from the taste. Would it be wrong for him to think how he wanted to melt into your skin and become one with you. Because that's what he wanted, to spend this blissful moment with you forever, remaining this drunk on you, and getting you drunk on him. Oh, how the though got him even harder inside you causing you to whine, feeling him hit all of your sweet spots.

His face turns to your face, seeing your fucked expression displayed only for him. Tears falling all for him alone, he couldn't help but smirk at your helpless self, sticking his tongue out to lap up your precious tears off your cheek.

"Such a cutie, my cutie." Rafayel whispers in your ear, giving it a good teasing bite at the end. Your body shook, face hot as you suck up all of his compliments and praise.

You can feel another orgasm trying to escape your body and Raf could tell by just how much your pussy was quivering. His hand that was on your waist moved lower between your thighs. His finger finds your throbbing clit, giving you a nice rub from his index and middle finger. Coxing you to cum around him and his cock. And it really didn't take much long before your body convulses with a powerful orgasm. You could feel yourself creaming around the base of his dick, head hanging low as you whaled a pitiful cry. Sweat dripping down your forehead, mouth open as drool rolled down your chin. your boyfriend came right behind you, filling your pussy with his white liquid. Raf's eyes closed as he lowers his head on your neck, giving you butterfly kisses along your shoulder. The hot load made you moan, as it added with the previous load Rafayel dumped inside you. You were so out of it that you didn't notice Raf was still hard around you. Pulling you off his dick, releasing you so he can move you onto your back.

You let out a sigh of relief feeling the cool sheets against your back. Your head on the soft pillow for a rest as your hair spilled messily around your head. But your eyes suddenly catch Rafayel in a very erotic position. He was on his knees, looking down at you with such intense gaze that sent a deep shiver down your body. You're breathless as you watch him pant heavily, his body glowing with sweat from the bed-side lamp. Chest heaving as well as his abs, his right hand now wrapping around his long dick. He pumps himself slowly, his cock still wet and dripping with your juices, while also his own come dripping down from the tip. It created a very slimy and wet sound with each pump he made. His dual purplish pink eyes never leaving your own eyes, and that made your pussy throb and clench over nothing. His cum pooling down your folds and to your ass.

He smells it again, your arousal, your pheromones still bombarding his nostrils.

He curses under his breath with a low whine exiting his throat. His left hand running his fingers up along his sweaty bangs, smoothing it over his head.

"R-Raf, are you okay?"

He doesn't really say anything just staring deeply, and you swallow a wad spit stuck in your throat. The fear and anticipation bubbling up in your chest, heart pounding so hard that you wouldn't be surprised if Rafayel could hear. Before you could say or do anything else, Rafayel pounced on your body. His hands lifted your legs from underneath your knees, pushing them all the way back till they were almost to your head. Having your folded into a restrictive mating press making you yelp in caution. His hands gripping the back of your thighs tightly, as your ass you lifted up a bit due to the position. He looked down at you with such a craved hunger, his breathing already ragged and desperate. His cock was moved between your puffy folds, his hips thrusting along your pussy. It easily glides with both of your drenched genitals with each other cum. The tip would hit your sensitive clit making your back arch from the pleasure. You could see the sick strings from your arousal stick from his cock to your pussy.

"W-Wait wait Raf! I-I don't know if I can do another-"

"Yes you can...please baby, just one more I promise...one more~"

His voice in a low whisper but you could still hear him. He was begging you for another round, pleading to stuff you full once more, to feel you around him so close and intimate. You whimper, your mind knowing that you should stop this, but your body was aching so much for your boyfriend to ruin you.

Seeing your willing submit on your face, Rafayel smiles all before his cock slowly pushes it way inside your hot walls. The stretch of his cock intense then the last rounds as you can feel him go even deeper. His tip hitting your cervix straight away, brushing up against the organ. Your eyes rolled back into your head, arms clentching the sheets and pillow right under your head. You were so distracted in your own bliss that you could see how Rafayel was fairing to all this pleasure. The boy head fell, as his eyes were closed, feeling every inch, curve, and depth inside you amazing walls. It was so hot he felt as if you'd will leave burn scares -not that it would happen to him-

All of this had stared because the two of you haven't seen each other for a while. And Rafayel, being the dramatic man he was didn't take well from being away from his dear bodyguard any longer. That damn job of yours really was going to be the death of him. Out there, risking your life on a day to day basis, him worrying for your safety even though on the surface he puts on an act. Berating you through banter everytime you get injured, calling you dumb, even though deep down all he wanted to do was hold you tightly in his arms and never let go. You were literally going to be the death of him.

Hell you weren't even injured badly or anything. He just missed you over the past month, cursing your busy schedule just to see you again. Miss having to hang around his art studio while he painted, miss having you do tedious tasks of finding new paint colors for his artistic experiments, miss having you body this close to his, skin to skin. And all that waiting, all that yearning, and patience. All the times he had to hear your voice over the phone, instead face to face made things become a bit more maddening. He almost forgotten what you smelled like, (which he definitely cried over the phone to you, whining how he needs you to return to him immediately) and you rolled your eyes, saying how you'll be over there soon enough.

And so he waited.

Boy did he hate it.

You surprised him the moment you came over to his place, calling out his name with glee. Rafayel made a beeline towards you, his hands grasping your shoulders tightly as he had a pout on his plush lips. His breath heaving, as his face was red, as if he was in heat. His clothes dishevelled, as his white buttoned shirt was open to view. Showing off his lean muscular physique and abs. He then kissed you desperately, trying to get your taste back into his mouth and memory. Sweet, you were so sweet and addicting. He hands moved along your body, grasping it's fill, whining how he was going to die if you hadn't came back. Which was false, but you knew how dramatic your boyfriend could be, especially when it came to you. So you let him have his way with you throughout the late evening.

What you didn't know was how much he was going to take from you.

Rafayel was still inside you, his hips not moving as his cock was motionless. You bite your lip as you wiggled your hips helplessly, wanting him to move. But you soon found a soft plop of liquid falling down chest. You slowly open your eyes, angling them to see what had fallen on your skin. Your eyes instantly are wide as you recognize the red liquid. Your gaze meets with Rafayel only to be shocked at what you were seeing. His nose, with one nostril leaking the crimson blood, rolling down to his own lips and chin.

"R-Rafayel! Oh my god, your nose!?"

You are concerned seeing your boyfriend have a spontaneous nosebleed out of nowhere. Probably due to all the hormones, maybe the blood rushed to fast into his head.

As if realizing this, Rafayel's right hand lets go of your thigh for a moment. His hand rising to his face, finger wiping away the blood that leaked down his upper lip, mouth, and chin. The blood smears against his cheek, his nosebleed stopping. Rafayel blinks for a few moments as he glances down at the small plop of blood that streaked across one of your breasts. He even looks down at his own hand that was smeared with blood that he wiped off his face. His eyebrows furrowed, as he looks away from you.

"Damn it...this is all your fault...getting me so worked up like this."

He whispers this while pouting, embarrassed by his own actions. All you could do was look up at him, and soon after you smiled. A breathless giggle rippling through your chest and out your mouth. He looks back at you with a soft yet annoyed expression on his features.

"Hey stop-"

"Hehe sorry, it's just.."

You smile at Rafayel as your hand reaches to cup his cheek gently. His eyes look at yours in surprise but soon caves in, and he closes those pretty eyes of his. His face leaning into your touch, cool hand against his heated skin, kissing the palm softly. Your thumb caressing a bit of the smeared blood along his cheek.

"I love you so much Raf."

You say this with full genuine love and adoration for the man above you. Rafayel takes in your words, as his eyes were still closed, head nuzzled up against your palm.

You were immediately taken back when Rafayel took your hand away from his face. His hand placed back underneath your soft thighs. Pushing your legs further in-between your head, making you note how you were defiantly going to sore for a few days after this. His hips slowly grind and thrust into your sweet spot, making you squirm in his tight hold of you. His cock digging inside your gut, making a noticeable bulge sticking out from your lower abdomen. You cry and Rafayel curses as he continues to ground himself slowly, swirling his cock around your walls, driving you crazy all over again.

"Shit, I love you so much too princess, -Nngh- you drive me insane~"

His thrusts were hard yet tantalizing slow, taking his time to etch his cock into your pussy. Just so you have the shape of him inside of you forever, ruined for anyone else to take -not that he'd allow you to leave him-

Your head felt so hot, as you couldn't think or say anything. Only letting Raf use your body as you moan in pleasure. But your body trembled for more, for him to just pound you senselessly otherwise you'd might explode. And Rafayel could sense that, he could feel how needy you were for his cock to take you. And he loved it, he wanted to give you everything you deserve. He wanted to make you feel just how he felt waiting for you for that long month. Though he himself was getting antsy and impatient, the urge to fuck you silly and stupid still raging inside his head and body.

"My pretty girl getting frustrated hehe."

Rafayel chuckles watching your facial features clench as his sent a hard thrust to your core. Your body shaking for him to just go faster.

"Open your mouth for me."

You hear his demand and obey him, opening you mouth wide for him, tongue sticking out waiting. His eyes crazed with lust as he watched you do this. He too opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out as he aligned his head above your mouth. Gathering up some saliva in the back of his mouth, he used his tongue to let the saliva drool down creating a slow stream into your own mouth. A moan erupts your throat, eyes lidded as you watched him drool into your own mouth, letting the saliva pool inside. Your pussy clenches heaving around him, causing the man above to groan knowing your aroused from his actions. He then stops himself, pulling his tongue away and closing his mouth with a sly smirk. Closing your mouth, as his own saliva swished inside before going down your throat and into your stomach when swallowing. Once you swallowed the mouth full of his saliva, you re-opened your mouth to him, tongue sticking out showing that you swallowed it all down. A stupid lewd grin carving your lips.

Rafayel watches this in amazement, he could feel himself getting even more harder inside you if that was even possible. The shaft throbbing, wanting to be stimulated more by your sweet cunt. His hips then move faster, his speed crazy and rough. Dick repeatedly punching your cervix with no mercy what-so-ever. Your eyes roll back as your mouth hanged open with cries and moans. Back arching so deliciously while he ruined your pussy.

"Aagh! R-Raf...uugh~!"

"Fuck princess~!"

Rafayel's cock drilled inside you, the bulge protruding from your flesh, making Rafayel go deranged. One of his legs were kneeling, while the other was propped up the bed, his foot digging into the mattress to get a better angle in your cunt. Your pussy in full display for him as it sucked him up, both your cum spilling out from the sides making a nasty mess all around your folds and thighs. The creamy seed dripping up to your navel. Balls slapping onto your ass, sending a loud smack with every thrust he did. The two of you were fucking like animals, very rough and high of each other's bodies. Especially Rafayel, who was drooling with his eyes full blow with lust as he watched your body rocked with his. Your arms above your head, breasts jumping heavily, as well as your legs and feet that swayed in the air.

Rafayel leans in more, his body weigh heavy against yours. He lips crashed with your, tongue violating your own mouth. He wanted to ruin your face as much as he was ruining your body. Both of your tongues swirling together messily, his heated breath mixed with yours. All while he muttered his dirty thoughts between kisses.

"C-Can't say anything can you princess?"

Kiss.

"Has my cute bodyguard turn dumb on me~?"

Kiss.

"-Nngh- Don't worry...you don't have to say anything...shit!"

Kiss.

"Just let me take care of you."

Kiss. Kiss.

"Don't you ever leave for that long..."

Kiss.

"Mm, I-I'll make sure you'll never forget my shape~"

Kiss.

Some of the blood that was staining his cheek moved to your own face. Some wiping along your own cheek and nose, making it look as if you too had a nosebleed. Honestly with the amount of blood flow rushing up to your brain, you figured that was bound to happen. You gasp in pain when you felt Rafayel teeth bite down along your calf. His head kissing your skin that held the new bite mark.

Rafayel can feel your pussy start to flutter around him, making him let out a whine. You were starting to get close to your orgasm, and so was he. He starts to pick the pace up causing you to squeal with much delight. His strong arms holding you close and tight as your toes clench in pleasure.

"Cum for me my bride...I want you to spill all over my cock! Do it for me, make a mess~!"

You let out unintelligible nonsense, babbling slurs that were probably Rafayel's own name. You couldn't tell as you were too fucked out to know anything but pleasure and bliss surrounding your whole body. All you could think about was your boyfriend Rafayel and his thick cock sending you to the edge. Your orgasm came like a hurricane, taking up all your senses and pouring out of you violently. Your back was arched, eyes crossing over as your hands above you gripped the pillow that rested beneath your head. Nails digging in, fearing you may tear it due to how much you were gripping it. Legs shake yet stiffen as your cunt gushed around his cock hard, your cum spraying out of you. Drenching both you and Rafayel, your thighs, pussy, his lower abdomen, dick and balls dripping with your sweet essence. You were crying, as globs of tears streak down your cheeks,

Rafayel shuddered, head dipping down as his teeth gritted. His thrusts were non-stop, and he prolonged your orgasm and entered into his own. His hands gripping to your thighs harshly, a bruise to come later. His tip was pressed up along your cervix, come shooting load after load inside. Filling your pussy to the brim to the point semen snuck out through the crevasses that connected you and him. Rafayel shook, as his thrusts start to slow down, sweat dripping down his body as well as yours. Rafayel kept muttering "I love you" whispering with every pump of his cock made inside you, moaning pathetically. The man then finally stills himself, too overstimulated to move anymore, your whines and sniffles making him stop as you were to overstimulated yourself.

His grip on you lessens, as he slowly lets go of your thighs and places them down on the soft bed. You let out a sigh of relief, eyes closed and tired. They felt so heavy, and it was too much to open them. Rafayel pulls out of you, hissing at the cool air that hits him when coming out of your warmth. He watches as spurts of his own cum squirts out of your stretched hole. He was amazed at the site, and he would have pushed his seed back inside you if it wasn't for the overwhelming exhaustion that pulled him down. Rafayel pulls the bed sheets over you and him, his head toppled over between your breasts nuzzling in them. His breath settling as well as yours, he can hear your heart steady, as your breath slows. Soft snores indicating that you had passed out. He sighs a content sigh, kissing your chest softly while wrapping his arms around your body. Rafayel starts to drift to sleep on your chest, a well knowing thought on how next morning, you'll probably scold him for how sore he made you.

A scolding he was definitely looking forward to.

#love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel smut #lads smut #smut

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