#smutty concepts

[ellswritings]

Undercover Heat

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

TW: Regular Criminal Minds violence, mentions of blood, death, and gore, suggestive content at the end (no smut), a bit of foul language, enemies to lovers, Hotch is kind of a meanie.

»»————-　��　————-««

Sitting in the Los Angeles police station for the third day in a row has the entire team from the B.A.U stretched thin and exhausted. They’ve been dealing with a serial killer who targets couples with large age gaps in upscale, luxury clubs. He’s taken out three couples in the past three weeks. Tension was thick in the air, the exhaustion from long hours spent hunting a brutal unsub weighing on each of them.

Y/N runs a hand over her face in irritation as she leans on Morgan’s shoulder. They’ve been driving themselves crazy trying to figure out who this killer is. They’ve gone to multiple different clubs asking if anyone has seen a man between ages 35-50 who tends to sit at the bar people watching rather than engaging in the night’s festivities. But the regulars and employees said they hadn’t seen anything. Their unsub has been strangling his victims in the luxury clubs before dumping their bodies exactly two miles away in very particular positions. They’ve all been found in public spaces. But so far, they were missing something.

Hotch stood at the front of the room, flipping through the latest crime scene photos as Rossi and Morgan finished pinning the map with the last locations of the attacks. Y/N sat across from Reid, skimming through her notes as she analyzed the patterns. With an IQ of 179, a doctorate in criminology and psychology, two master’s degrees in chemistry and law, and a B.A. in history and human resources, her mind rarely rested. She could also fluently converse in four languages—French, Russian, German, and Spanish—which had come in handy countless times in the field. Despite her vast knowledge and sharp instincts, this case had left her unsettled. Something was off, and they hadn’t cracked it yet.

Rossi broke the silence. “We’ve been over this already. The unsub is hitting clubs that cater to the upper class, targeting couples with large age gaps. But there’s still a piece we’re missing. Why these clubs? Why these victims?”

Morgan crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “This guy knows how to pick his victims, that’s for sure. But he’s not choosing randomly—there’s gotta be something more connecting these places.”

Y/N frowned, glancing between the case files and the map. “It’s not just about wealth. These clubs aren’t the most high-profile ones in the city, and they’re spread out across the area.”

Reid tapped his pen against the table. “It’s true. They’re not clustered in one neighborhood, and they don’t have a shared ownership group or any overt connections that we’ve found.”

Emily Prentiss nodded from her spot at the edge of the table, deep in thought. “What about the victims? They’re all couples with significant age differences. That’s part of his ritual, but it doesn’t explain why he’s picking these clubs.”

Y/N was staring at the list of clubs they’d canvassed earlier: Ascend, Bourbon Room, Cielo. She narrowed her eyes, something beginning to click in her mind. “Hold on…”

“What is it?” Hotch asked, noticing her shift in focus.

Y/N sat up straighter, her voice thoughtful. “The clubs… they’re in alphabetical order. Look—Ascend, Bourbon Room, Cielo. He’s not just picking random spots. He’s following a sequence.”

Reid’s eyes lit up in realization. “You’re right. It’s subtle, but it makes sense. This kind of obsessive order suggests a particular form of OCD—a need to control every element of his actions. It’s not about the clubs themselves; it’s about the order they fall into.”

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck, impressed. “Damn. This guy’s not just a killer—he’s a full-on control freak.”

Hotch nodded, his expression serious. “If he’s following an alphabetical pattern, we can anticipate his next move. What’s the next club in line?”

Y/N flipped through the files, pulling out the next likely target. “‘DeVane.’ It’s upscale, fits the profile of where he’s been targeting couples. If he’s keeping to this pattern, that’s where he’ll strike next.”

JJ stepped forward, pointing at the map. “Alright. So we’ve got the next location. Now we just need to draw him out.”

Rossi’s eyes light up with an idea as he looked between Y/N and Hotch, “Well, we know the unsub’s got a thing for couples with big age gaps. Looks like we need a decoy.”

Before anyone could react, Morgan’s gaze landed squarely on Y/N, mischief dancing behind his eyes, “And we’ve got the perfect couple right here.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned. “Wait, hold on, what?”

Emily, catching onto Morgan and Rossi’s plan, chuckled. “He’s right, you know. You and Hotch fit the profile. It’d be perfect.”

Y/N stared, incredulous, before glancing toward Hotch. The man was stone-faced, as usual, but she could feel the tension rise between them. “You want me to pretend to be in a relationship with him?”

Morgan shrugged, his smile widening. “Well, you’re 23, Hotch is… not 23. The age gap fits perfectly.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, frustration building. “You’re seriously suggesting that Hotch and I—two people who can barely tolerate each other—pretend to be a couple?”

Hotch didn’t even look up from his files. “We’re professionals. We can set aside our differences for this.”

Y/N let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Set aside our differences? Hotch, we can’t even get through a team meeting without arguing over strategy. How do you expect us to pull off a believable relationship?”

Prentiss leaned in, smirking. “You two do argue like an old married couple already.”

Y/N threw her a sharp look. “That’s not funny.”

JJ chimed in, trying to defuse the tension. “Look, I know this is uncomfortable, but we need to catch this guy before he kills again. You two are the best option we have.”

Y/N shook her head, frustration bubbling over. “This isn’t just about being uncomfortable. We have to convince the unsub that we’re a legitimate couple—he’s going to notice every detail. And we’re not exactly… compatible.”

Hotch finally spoke up, his tone calm but firm. “We don’t have to like each other to do our jobs, L/N. We just have to be convincing enough to lure the unsub in.”

Y/N stared at him, arms crossed tightly. “Convincing? You and I can barely stand to be in the same room. How do you expect us to sell a romantic relationship?”

Morgan chuckled from the side. “Come on, L/N, you’re one of the smartest people I know. With that IQ and all those degrees, you can figure this out.”

Y/N shot him a glare. “I have a doctorate in criminology and psychology, a master’s in law and chemistry, and a B.A. in history and human resources. None of those degrees cover ‘pretending to like your boss who you can’t stand.’”

Rossi stepped in, his tone more diplomatic. “Look, we wouldn’t ask you to do this if we didn’t think you could handle it. This guy’s escalating, and we need to act fast. You and Hotch are the best team for this.”

Y/N sighed, clearly frustrated but recognizing the urgency. She looked over at Hotch, who met her gaze with that same impassive expression. “Fine,” she muttered. “But for the record, I still think this is a terrible idea.”

Hotch gave a curt nod. “Noted.”

»»————-　➴　————-««

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the skimpy red dress that Emily had insisted she wear for this undercover mission. The fabric clung to her figure, accentuating every curve. The slit on the side revealed a generous portion of her thigh, leaving just enough room to conceal her gun but not much else to the imagination. The sweetheart neckline plunged dangerously low, exposing far more cleavage than she was used to. She felt exposed, vulnerable—but Emily had been insistent.

“Trust me,” Emily had said with a wicked grin. “You’ll knock them dead.”

Y/N took a deep breath and adjusted the neckline again, trying to reconcile the professional part of her brain with the woman staring back at her in the mirror. She wasn’t usually the type to use her looks to her advantage, but tonight was different. Tonight, the mission came first.

She stepped out into the hallway where the rest of the team was waiting. The moment she appeared, Morgan’s eyes widened, and he let out an appreciative whistle. “Damn, Y/N, you trying to kill the unsub or us?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “It’s not that bad.”

Morgan grinned, his gaze trailing over her in a playful, non-threatening way that only a close friend could get away with. “If this guy doesn’t fall for the bait, Lord knows I will,” he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth making Y/N slap his chest.

Emily stepped up beside Morgan, her eyes lighting up with approval. “See? I told you that dress would be perfect. You look like a total bombshell.”

Y/N glanced down at herself, smoothing the fabric over her hips. “Yeah, well, I feel like I’m about to flash someone.”

Emily shrugged, unfazed. “That’s kind of the point.”

Morgan shot her a wink. “You’re gonna break hearts tonight, sweetheart. Just make sure it’s the right one.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered toward Hotch, who had been silent since she entered the room. His gaze was locked on her, but he wasn’t saying anything. His eyes were dark, his expression unreadable, but there was something in the way he looked at her that made her stomach tighten.

He quickly glanced away when she caught him staring, clearing his throat. “We need to focus on the mission.”

“Right.” Y/N nodded, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in her chest. She wasn’t here to impress anyone—least of all Aaron Hotchner. He was too serious, too controlled. While Y/N on the other hand tends to handle the job by hiding behind a wall of humor and sarcasm, something Hotch hates. They’d never gotten along. This was strictly business.

Still, as they walked out to the car, she couldn’t help but feel Hotch’s presence looming next to her. He hadn’t said a word about the dress, but the way his eyes had lingered on her—particularly on her cleavage—hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was like he was trying not to look, but failing miserably.

By the time they arrived at the club, Y/N’s nerves had settled somewhat. The loud thrum of music pulsed through the walls as they approached the entrance, and she straightened her spine, trying to adopt the confident persona they needed for the night.

“Okay,” she murmured as they stepped through the door. “We need to sell this. So maybe try not looking like a statue,” she grumbles lowly.

Hotch, staying ever stoic, gave a curt nod. “I know.”

But Y/N wasn’t convinced. Hotch’s body language screamed discomfort. His shoulders were rigid, his movements stiff, and he had the expression of someone being dragged to an event they wanted no part of.

She leaned in closer to him, keeping her voice low. “Hotch, you’re going to blow this if you don’t relax. We’re supposed to be a couple.”

“I’m relaxed,” Hotch said, though the tension in his jaw told a different story.

Y/N huffed in frustration. “You look like you’re about to interrogate someone, not go dancing with your girlfriend.”

Hotch shot her a look. “I’m here to catch the unsub, not dance.”

“You’re here to catch the unsub by pretending to be my boyfriend,” Y/N whispered fiercely. “Right now, you’re not doing a very good job of that.”

Hotch’s expression remained impassive, but Y/N could sense the faintest hint of annoyance in his eyes. “What do you suggest?”

“Start by putting your arm around me,” she said through gritted teeth. “Couples don’t walk into clubs two feet apart.”

Hotch hesitated, then slipped his arm around her waist. It was awkward at first, his hand hovering as if he wasn’t sure where to put it. But Y/N pressed into him slightly, encouraging him to pull her closer. After a moment, his grip tightened, and they moved deeper into the crowded club.

They found their way to the dance floor, where couples swayed and ground against each other in the dim, pulsating lights. Y/N turned to Hotch, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of their target. They had to blend in.

“Follow my lead,” she said softly.

Hotch nodded, though the tightness in his posture remained.

Y/N began to move to the music, her body swaying in time with the beat. Hotch tried to follow her movements, but he was stiff, almost robotic. She bit back a sigh and leaned into him, pressing her body against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“We’ve got eyes on us,” she whispered in his ear, her lips brushing against the skin just below. “Black hoodie, sitting alone at the bar. You need to make this believable. Stop acting like I have some incurable disease.”

Hotch’s hands found her hips, his grip firm but hesitant. Y/N could feel the tension radiating off him, but she kept moving, her body fluid and sensual as she ground against him. Their bodies remain close, she spins around pressing her ass against crotch, and for a moment, she felt his breath hitch.

“You’re too stiff,” she murmured, leaning her head back, her lips grazing the shell of his ear. “Relax.”

Hotch’s hands tightened on her hips as he tried to match her rhythm. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders began to ease, and he pulled her closer, his breath now becoming warm against her neck.

“That’s better,” Y/N whispered, her voice low and teasing.

Hotch’s hands moved more confidently now, gripping her hips with a possessive strength that sent a shiver down her spine. Y/N’s heart raced as she tilted her head slightly, brushing her lips against the skin of his neck. She trails kisses up and down his skin, nibbling at the soft spot that connects his shoulder to his neck. She turns back around, running her hands through his raven black hair, tugging on the strands which ends up pulling a small groan from Hotch’s lips. The music and atmosphere of the club seems to have pulled them in much deeper than they thought. It’s getting harder to breathe the closer they stay.

“We’ve got his attention,” she murmured, her lips ghosting along the curve of his jaw. She fights off every urge to leave a mark. “He hasn’t looked away for the past five minutes.”

Without warning, Y/N moves her attention from his neck and kisses him, her lips pressing against his in a way that was both soft and urgent. Hotch froze for a split second, but then his hands gripped her waist, pulling her even closer as he deepened the kiss. He’ll probably scold her for the unprofessional action later, but they need to keep this guys attention if this is going to work.

It was electric, the tension between them igniting in a way neither of them had anticipated. Hotch’s hand moves upward, gripping the back of her head. If her eyes were open, they’d be rolling into the back of her head with the way he’s dominating her. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she kissed him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. For a moment, it didn’t feel like an act.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their eyes locked. Hotch’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—something Y/N couldn’t quite place.

“He’s hooked,” Y/N whispered, her voice breathless. “We need to get him somewhere more secluded. Before he hurts someone else.”

Hotch nodded, his grip on her waist still tight as they made their way toward the exit. Once outside, the cool night air hit them, and Y/N quickly scanned the area, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the moment. She can’t see if the unsub followed them. The only light illuminating the area around them being the moon.

“We need to keep making this look real,” Y/N murmured as they moved toward a shadowed alley. “Just in case he’s still watching.”

Without warning, Hotch spun her around and pinned her against the wall, his body pressing into hers. One of his hands is still tight on her hip, the other one shooting up to her neck, squeezing it slightly to hold her in place. Y/N’s breath catches in her throat as Hotch’s eyes visibly darken.

“Is this believable enough for you?” Hotch whispers, his voice low and rough in her ear.

Y/N swallowed hard, enjoying the tiny amount of pressure on her throat. “Yeah… that’ll do.”

They stood like that for a few moments, their bodies pressed together in the darkness. Hotch plants open mouthed kisses from her cheek all the way down to her neck and across her chest, the neckline allowing him much needed access. Y/N sucks in a shaky breath, still waiting for any sign of the unsub. She could feel the tension between them, the heat radiating off Hotch’s body as he held her against the wall.

Suddenly, movement caught her eye. The unsub stepped out of the shadows, his gaze locked on them. Y/N’s instincts kicked in immediately. She shoved Hotch to the side, spinning around to face the unsub as he lunged at her.

In one swift motion, Y/N ducked under his arm, grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind his back. The unsub let out a grunt of pain as she swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground.

Hotch was by her side in an instant, helping to restrain the unsub as they waited for backup to arrive.

When it was all over, Y/N stood there, breathing heavily, her heart still pounding from the adrenaline. She glanced over at Hotch, who was watching her with an unreadable expression.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

Y/N nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Hotch’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he looked away, his expression unreadable once again. “Good work.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, despite the tension still thrumming between them. “Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself.”

As they waited for the team to arrive, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. The mission might have been over, but the tension between her and Hotch was far from resolved.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Y/N barely made it through the door of her hotel room before she kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief. Her feet ached from the hours spent in the club, and all she wanted was to peel off the red dress that clung to her like a second skin, take a long shower, and crash for the night. The team had successfully apprehended the unsub, and they’d earned a few hours of sleep before their early flight back to Quantico.

As she reached for the zipper at the back of her dress, a commanding knock on her door stopped her mid-motion. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was late, far past the time she expected anyone on the team to come knocking. Confusion settled in her chest as she moved toward the door, wondering if someone had an emergency or a last-minute update about the case.

When she opened the door, the sight that greeted her sent her heart racing.

Hotch stood there, but not like the composed, stoic team leader she was used to seeing. His tie was loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his usually slicked-back hair had a slightly tousled look, as if he’d been running his hands through it. But it wasn’t just his disheveled appearance that threw her off—it was the way his dark eyes flickered with something raw, something he was barely holding back.

He looked… frazzled, but not in a scared or anxious way. No, this was different. It was the kind of frazzled that spoke of barely-contained desire, the kind that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff.

Her heart skipped a beat as his eyes swept over her, lingering on the red dress she was still wearing. His gaze darkened, his jaw tightening for a split second before he quickly looked back up at her face. But not quickly enough.

“Hotch?” she asked, her voice uncertain, her brows knitting together in confusion. “What are you doing here? It’s late—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Hotch stepped forward, forcing her to take a step back. He shut the door behind him with a firm push, the click of the lock sending a shiver down her spine. His entire presence was overwhelming, the space between them growing smaller with each passing second.

“Why are you still in that dress?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his gaze once again dipping to the neckline of her dress. It wasn’t a question borne out of curiosity; it was an accusation, a demand.

Y/N blinked, completely thrown off by the intensity in his eyes, the tension radiating off him in waves. “I—I just got back. I didn’t have time to—”

But before she could explain further, Hotch took another step forward, backing her up against the wall. His hands were braced on either side of her head, caging her in. The heat of his body was intoxicating, the scent of his cologne filling her senses.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice a low growl, “what the hell were you thinking?”

Y/N’s heart was racing now, her breath hitching as she stared up at him. His face was inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin. “What are you talking about?”

“The kiss,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “The way you touched me. What were you trying to do?”

Y/N’s lips parted in shock, her mind spinning. This wasn’t an interrogation—not really. This was something else, something charged with an energy she couldn’t ignore.

“I was trying to sell the cover,” she replied, her voice faltering slightly, though she stood her ground. “We had to be convincing.”

Hotch’s eyes flashed with something dangerous. “Convincing? You were doing a hell of a lot more than that.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as his words hung between them, thick with implication. The way he was looking at her, the way his body pressed so close to hers, sent heat pooling in her stomach. She could feel the tension crackling between them, making it harder to breathe, harder to think.

“What are you trying to say?” she asked, her voice quieter now, her heart pounding in her chest.

Hotch’s gaze bore into hers, his voice dangerously soft. “You know exactly what I’m saying.”

Y/N clenched her fists at her sides, trying to regain control of the situation, of herself. But the way Hotch was staring at her, the way his body was crowding her against the wall, made it nearly impossible to think straight.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You didn’t do anything wrong?” Hotch’s voice was thick with disbelief, and he leaned in even closer, his lips hovering near her ear. “You kissed your superior, L/N. You pushed yourself against me like a dirty whore. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Y/N felt her pulse quicken, her skin tingling where his breath brushed against her ear. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer. The heat between them was suffocating, and her body reacted in ways she couldn’t control.

“You kissed me back,” she shot back, trying to hold on to some semblance of control, even as her voice wavered.

Hotch’s hand slid down the wall, his fingers brushing against her arm, sending a shockwave of electricity through her. His lips were so close to her neck now, she could feel the warmth of them, but he didn’t touch her—at least, not yet.

“You want to talk about what I did?” His voice was a husky whisper. “Or do you want to talk about why you did it in the first place?”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart racing. “What are you trying to get at, Hotch?”

“I’m trying to figure out what was going through your mind,” he said, his eyes dark with intensity. “You could’ve made it believable without kissing me like that. But you didn’t.”

Y/N’s skin flushed, and she fought to stay composed. “I did what I had to do to keep the cover intact. That’s it.”

Hotch’s lips twisted into a smirk that sent a ripple of heat through her. “Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

Her pulse was in her throat now, and she couldn’t ignore the way her body responded to his nearness, the way her mind spun every time his breath ghosted over her skin.

“You’re trying to act like you don’t care,” Hotch murmured, his voice low, predatory. “But you can’t stand it, can you? You’re as affected by this as I am.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, and she pressed her palms flat against the wall behind her, trying to ground herself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You may be able to lie to yourself,” Hotch said softly, his hand brushing over her side, sending a shockwave of heat through her. “But you can’t lie to me.”

Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, her breathing uneven as the tension between them became unbearable. Every inch of her body was attuned to his, and the more they fought, the stronger the pull between them became.

“Maybe it’s you who can’t handle it,” Y/N shot back, her voice shaky, but defiant. “Maybe you’re the only one who’s affected.”

Hotch’s eyes darkened even further, and without warning, his lips crashed against hers, all of the tension, all of the pent-up frustration between them exploding in that moment.

Y/N gasped into the kiss, her body melting into his as his hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him. A certain wetness pools between her legs as his thigh spreads her legs apart. She grounds herself against him as the kiss builds. It’s fierce, heated, and Y/N can’t stop herself, her hands tangling in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

It was overwhelming—the way his body pressed into hers, the way his lips moved against hers, demanding more. She could feel the heat between them building, igniting something deep within her that she couldn’t suppress.

For a moment, everything else faded away. The mission, the team, the rules—they all disappeared, leaving only the fire that burned between them.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to regain control.

“This is a bad idea,” Y/N whispered, her voice breathless.

Hotch’s hand slid up her arm, his fingers brushing against her neck. “I know.”

But neither of them made a move to stop.

[mountsmase]

Ooooh for concept night how about how awful Mason would feel if once he accidentally hurt you during sex. Like maybe he’s been away from you for a couple of weeks and he’s missed you so much when he gets home he just can’t keep his hands off you and ofc you’re so glad to have him home and loving on you but when you get down to it maybe he gets a bit too excited and so he doesn’t give you as much foreplay as usual or he thrusts a little bit too hard and it just catches you by surprise and so you yelp when the pain jolts through you and omg baby boy would feel sooo bad immediately stopping everything and doing all he can to make sure you’re okay, he’d be so apologetic and the aftercare would be off the charts ☹️

Baby boy would feel so bad 🥺

You might’ve even used your safe word? You’ve never had to use it before and when you chose it you didn’t really think you ever would, but it’s there for a reason and the first time you use it he’d be so upset with himself

Maybe, like you said, you’ve not not seen each other for a couple of weeks so of course you’re excited to get into bed and show him how much you’ve missed him, and he can’t wait to love on you all night long, but he gets a little impatient with the foreplay. He loves foreplay but he’s feeling extra needy after being away from you, and he just wants to feel you wrapped around him so he slips in maybe a little to soon, or too hard/fast…

Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, you’re so accustomed to each others bodies and he knows you well enough that normally he can tell when you’re ready, and he really thought you were and so did you honestly, but after a couple of weeks apart you probably needed just a bit more preparation, so when he first pushes in the stretch stings a little and it catches you off guard. But maybe you don’t react quick enough and he’s already pulling back to thrust again, which you can’t fault him for because he’s just excited, but when he does he goes deeper than before and a little jolt of pain shoots up your spine and you say your safe word out of instinct, not being able to stop yourself

You feel terrible for it the second it leaves your lips, knowing full well that you could’ve just asked him to slow down or give you a moment to adjust and he would’ve without question, but it slipped past your lips before you could stop it and you just feel even worse when you see the look on his face 🥺

He’d stop instantly, not pulling out because he doesn’t know why you said it and if you’re already in pain he wouldn’t want to make it any worse. The words ‘are you okay?’ can’t leave his lips quick enough and they’re followed by a ton of apologies and other questions like ‘did I hurt you?’ ‘oh god baby I’m so sorry what’s wrong?’

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so concerned 🥺 his eyes sweeping over your body from head to toe as if he’s trying to find what the matter is and the only way you can stop his rambling of questions and apologies is by pulling him down for a kiss. He melts into you instantly, your hand finding the back of his head to trace patterns on the nape of his neck, something you know always helps to calm him down

When you pull away he doesn’t ask any more questions, but theres a look in his eye as if he’s asking you to talk to him so you explain that you were just taken a little off guard and didn’t expect the sting. You tell him that it’s 100% not his fault and he has nothing to feel sorry for because he didn’t do anything wrong, you also apologise for even saying it in the first place because you know how awful he must feel and you didn’t want to make him feel that way, but he just tells you to not be silly and scolds you for apologising to him because that’s what the word is there for and he’s not upset with you for using it 🥺 if anything, he’s glad you did because he wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable in anyway when sex is meant to be enjoyable for both of you. That doesn’t stop him from feeling bad about it though.

You decide it’s probably best to stop for the night, and you cuddle in bed for a while before deciding to go and have a bath together. He’s way more touchy and attentive than normal, and that’s saying a lot because he’s always touchy and attentive. But it’s like he can’t do enough for you, helping you wash and giving your thighs and tummy a little massage from where he’s sitting behind you in the tub, he’s constantly littering kisses over your shoulders and upper back, basically kissing every inch of your body he can reach, and he’s apologising again even when you climb into bed after sitting in the bath until the water goes cold.

He feels bad about it all night, not being able to fully relax until the next morning, when you wake him up by kissing all over his bare chest and a few minuets later he’s fully awake and climbing in between your legs, lowering himself between your thighs and he takes his time loving on you, giving you one mind blowing orgasm before you’re returning the favour and after that you’re climbing on top of him, settling into his lap and lowering yourself down onto his length. He lets you go at your own pace and it’s a bit slower than usual after not being with eachother for a while, but it’s so soft and intimate, your favourite kind. He’s only comfortable taking control after he’s sure you’ve adjusted to him, and then he’s rolling you over to finally love on you how he’s been wanting to for the last few weeks.

[glitchhdxddy]

Cute date idea: I take you to the book store, You pick your favourite smutty book. I then make you read it out aloud In front of me while I edge you with a vibrator and watch how much you stumble and tremble on your words, Progressively getting needy for me. If you manage to get through a chapter I’ll let you cum.

[disastrousdalliance]

[avonnimimi]

Can you write a parallel story of making sevika jealous. How would she react? 😏

of course i can pretty girl😉

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Hers

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a/n: Here you go anon<3 I hope you enjoy, and i switched it up a little ;) I tried to make it extra special since you’re the first to send an ask ☺️ also i’m a firm believer that sevika has a daddy kink. MEN AND MINORS DNI

content: dom!sevika, mean!sevika, strap-on-sex (r!receiving), cunnilingus (r!receiving), face-sitting, overstimulation, semi-public sex, finger sucking, throat fucking, choking, two pussy slaps, degrading, name calling, daddy kink, bratty!reader, multiple + forced orgasms. lmk if i missed anything!

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Ordinarily, you wouldn’t have dared to be so bold, but Sevika had been a really mean to you today. First, she told you no when you tried to get three large ice creams from the truck. Then, she shut you down when you wanted to buy those $300 heels you’d been obsessing over online. And last, like the cherry on top, she hit you with; “You can’t always get what you want.”

It burned. So, you decided to be petty.

Tonight was one of your once-a-month traditions: a night at the club with Sevika. She was already at the bar, ordering her usual drink. You didn’t even wait for her to turn around before heading to the dance floor, your mind made up.

You scanned the room, searching for your victim. It didn’t take long. Dark eyes met yours from across the crowd, already locked on you. He was watching you like he’d been waiting all night. You smirked, letting your hips sway as you walked toward him, the hem of your mini skirt riding higher with every step. When you reached him, you grabbed his hand, pulling him closer until your ass pressed firmly against his crotch. The music pulsed around you, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heart pounding.

You started to move, grinding against him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your rhythm. You felt him harden against you, and for a second, nausea twisted in your stomach. But you swallowed it down. This wasn’t about him. This was about Sevika.

Your eyes flicked to the bar. There she was, sitting with her drink in hand, her gaze fixed on you. She didn’t look mad. She didn’t even look fazed. If anything, she looked…amused.

The heat of embarrassment flushed your cheeks. You were doing all this to get her attention, to rile her up, and she didn’t even care. You watched as she downed the rest of her drink, set the glass down, and stood. Your heart dropped. She wasn’t coming to you. She was walking toward the bathrooms.

The sting of rejection hit harder than you expected, twisting your chest tight. You pulled away from the guy without a word, ignoring his protests, and followed her. The anger bubbling inside you felt like it was about to spill over.

You pushed open the bathroom door, ready to confront her, but before you could even call her name, a strong hand yanked you inside, slamming you against the tiled wall, the door clicking shut behind you. The sound of the lock turning made your stomach flip.

It was Sevika. You didn’t need to see her face to know. Her scent, smoky and electric, was unmistakable. Her body pressed against yours, her hips flush with your ass. You gasped as you felt the hard bulge in her pants press against you. Your knees almost buckled.

“Tryna make me jealous, trouble?” she asked, her voice low and deadly, the amusement in it making your thighs clench.

You didn’t answer, biting your lip to keep the words at bay. That only made her laugh, a deep, throaty chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Cute,” she murmured, before her hands grabbed the hem of your mini skirt and yanked it down your thighs. The fabric pooled at your feet. Then, she spun you around, her hands firm on your shoulders as she pushed you down to your knees.

She unzipped her pants, and her strap sprung free, thick and heavy. Your mouth watered at the sight, but you didn’t move. You just looked up at her, wide-eyed and defiant.

“Open,” she growled, her voice sharp and commanding.

You shook your head, a small, “No,” slipping from your lips before you could stop yourself.

Wrong move. Sevika’s hand shot out, grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks hard enough to make you cry out. Then, with no warning, she shoved her cock between your lips, pushing it deep into your throat.

You gagged, your hands flying to her hips in a weak attempt to push her back, but it only made her thrust deeper. Tears pricked your eyes as she fucked your throat, her pace merciless. Your body betrayed you, heat pooling in your core as the wetness between your legs grew.

“Yeah, that’s it,” she groaned, her voice rough. Her boot shifted, the toe pressing against your clit through your soaked panties. The pressure made you moan around her cock, your hips instinctively grinding against her boot.

“You know what to do,” she taunted. And you did. You bucked your hips, grinding down harder, chasing the friction as you sucked and licked at her tip. You could feel her watching you, her dark eyes burning into you. “Look at you,” she sneered, her voice dripping with condescension. “Such a pretty little bitch in heat.”

Your cheeks burned, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Not until she pulled back, her cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. You whined at the loss, your hips stuttering as you found an angle that dragged against your clit perfectly.

“Pathetic,” she muttered, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet. She dragged you to the sink, bending you over the counter. The mirror reflected your flushed face, your lips swollen, your eyes glassy. Sevika’s hand ran down your back before hooking into your thong and tearing it clean off.

She spread your legs wide, one hand gripping your hip while the other slapped your clit hard. You yelped, the sting sharp and sudden. But before you could recover, her cock was rubbing against your soaked slit, teasing you.

And then she shoved it in.all of it.

You screamed, your hands flying to the edges of the sink to hold yourself steady. She didn’t wait, didn’t give you time to adjust. Her hips slammed into yours over and over, her cock hitting so deep you thought you might break.

“Look at yourself,” she growled, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head up so you were forced to meet your reflection. “You see what a nasty little fucktoy you are?”

Your lip trembled. You wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, but all you could do was whimper as she fucked you harder, her hips snapping against yours with brutal precision.

“You think that little boy out there could fuck you like this?” she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.

“N-no, daddy!” you cried, your thighs shaking, your body already teetering on the edge.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she spat, her pace quickening. “Now cum. Cum all over this dick, trouble.”

Her words sent you spiraling. Your body tensed, then shattered, pleasure crashing over you in waves so intense you couldn’t even think. Your pussy clenched tight around her cock, your moans echoing in the small bathroom.

But she didn’t stop. Her thrusts stayed relentless, pulling you from one orgasm straight into the next. Tears streamed down your face, your body trembling from overstimulation.

“Aww, poor baby,” she cooed mockingly, her hand pressing against your stomach, right where her cock was buried deep inside you. “Too much? Or do you love it, slut?”

“Yes!” you sobbed, nodding frantically. “Love it, daddy! Fuck, I love it s’much…”

Your words only spurred her on. She slapped your ass hard, the sound echoing around you. “Good girl,” she growled. “Now cum again.”

And you did. Harder than before, your body writhing as you squirted all over her cock. You were a mess, completely undone, but Sevika wasn’t finished. She pulled out, spinning you around and sitting you on the counter, immediately dropping to her knees.

“Lemme taste,” she said, her voice rough with need.

Her tongue found your clit instantly, sucking and flicking it with no mercy. Your thighs twitched, your body jerking as you cried out, the pleasure almost too much. She didn’t stop, didn’t let up, her tongue dipping into your cunt before returning to your clit.

Your hips jerk up, desperate, fucking yourself against her tongue until she growls and forces your hips down, sucking your clit so hard you can’t stop the scream tearing out of your throat as you cum again. “F-fuck, daddy!” Your hands tangle in her hair, pulling, holding on for dear life as your body grinds into her face, completely out of control, lost in it.

Sevika doesn’t even give you time to recover. She’s up in an instant, her hand wrapping tight around your throat, pinning you to the mirror as two of her thick fingers slam into your dripping cunt. You gasp, legs spreading wider, chasing the stretch, the pressure. “You wanna cum again?” she growls, and all you can do is nod, your voice gone. You need it, fuck, you need her so bad it’s making you ache.

Her fingers curl, hitting that spot inside you like she’s mapped you out, like she owns you. You sob, your hands clutching at her wrist, thighs trembling as she works you open. “Please,” you whimper, sounding pathetic and raw, but you don’t care. She’s fucking you so deep, so good, you’d sell your soul just to keep her there forever.

“God, I love when you’re a brat,” Sevika groans, her voice low and wrecked, her thumb swiping over your clit just to watch you twitch. “Gives me an excuse to ruin this pussy, stuff it full, make it mine.” Her lips curl into a smirk, her eyes dark as she leans in closer. “Look at me.”

You try, you fucking try, but your eyes roll back as your orgasm claws its way up, your walls fluttering around her fingers. The pressure is unbearable, and your body’s trembling so hard you think you might shatter. “Fuck, Sevika—”

“Yeah, that’s it,” she hisses, watching your body give up to her. Her grip on your throat tightens just enough to make your head spin, and then she’s pulling you into a messy, brutal kiss, her tongue dominating yours, kissing all the air out of your lungs. You cum hard, your whole body locking up as you squirt all over her hand, soaking her wrist, the floor, everything.

She doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, until you’re gasping for breath. Pulling her fingers out, she doesn’t even hesitate before shoving them against your lips. “Open,” she demands, and you obey immediately, sucking them clean, tasting yourself on her skin. You’re still trying to catch your breath when her other hand comes down, slapping your oversensitive pussy, making you yelp.

“Good fucking girl,” Sevika mutters, her voice thick with pride as she leans down to kiss you again, stealing the last bit of air you have left.

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this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2024

[mamajamasquamas]

In the shower with Toji…

WARNINGS 18+, smut, penis in vagina sex, rough kissing, shower sex, original female character not reader insert,

Toji steps into the shower. Hot water hits his skin, relieving the tension in his muscles from fighting for so long. Alicia is standing with her back to him, water dripping from the tips of her curls, down the blue butterfly tattooed on the small of her back, and over her plump ass as she stares out the window. Toji takes a step closer, pressing his cock against her ass. She bites her lip, looking up at him. Her eyes are lit by the glow of the buildings outside of their hotel. Toji cups her chin, pushing his mouth against hers. The water becomes hotter, enveloping all of his senses as he slides his tongue into her mouth, tasting the tea she’d drank earlier, lemon, and maybe a hint of ginger. She slides her hands into his hair, deepening the kiss. After such a long day.. it feels good to hold her, to taste her lips, feel them against his. So soft. So plump. He cups Alicia’s ass, grabbing the shower handle with the other, pushing it back to redirect the stream. Water hits the shower mat beneath their feet, but the only thing separating them now is steam. Squeezing her ass, he places his other hand on the wall beside her as their tongues meet, gently at first. Sweet steam hits his face, smelling richly of mango. He kisses her harder, pushing her thighs apart with his hand. Sliding the fat head of his cock between her legs, he groans against her mouth.

“It feels good to be home,” he whispers before connecting their lips again.

Alicia laughs against him. Her laugh is soft, full of warmth. Pushing his cock further in, he clenches his fist. She’s so tight, so warm. He begins to thrust, the sound of their wet hips slapping filling the tight space between them. Alicia moans, breaking the kiss as she tilts her head back. Her dark, wet hair falls over his shoulder. Grabbing her throat, Toji moves his hips faster, pushing her thighs apart with his foot. Pushing his mouth against hers again, he slides all of his cock into her, thrusting in and out. Slam, slap, thud, their hips meet over and over, Alicia’s ass reddening from every rough, frantic thrust. Yes, it feels good to be home. To be kissing her, fucking her. Alicia digs her fingers into the window pane, her cries swallowed by his mouth as he keeps thrusting. The steam is a bit cooler now, still carrying the sweet smell of mango. Sliding his cock out to the head, he pushes back in, fucking her harder.

“Toji I’m-“ Alicia says against his lips. “I’m cumming!”

“Me too,” he groans, pulling her lips back to his.

The lights of the building grow brighter as they release at the same time, their hips shuddering.

[anto-pops]

I've recently read lots of short fics at wattpad and also some of yours from your masterpost, and since I'm new to the fandom, I can't understand one thing... Why it is common among fic authors to picture Sebastian with a "breeding kink"? To be honest, it's really interesting to read them, because they're all well written and beautiful, but why? It's like every character might be anyone with any kind of preferences, but Sebastian is pictured mostly like this? It's a common joke for fun in the fandom and since I'm new I don't get it? :) (sorry for possible mistakes, not a native speaker)

LMAO you're all good lovie ! Honestly, I couldn't tell you why so many people like portraying him like that. For me personally, I like to characterize him in my stories as someone who's possessive, obsessive, and clingy, so him being into the concept of breeding the MC adds a little ✨ oomf ✨ to that. Like she's all his inside and out.

There's also the fact that Sebastian's whole family is basically dead. Anne isn't cured by the end of the game, so there's no chance she could possibly have a kid or safely deliver one without dying (in my opinion). In my one breeding-kink-heavy fic End of the Line, Sebastian outright mentions that he wants to build a legacy and pass on his family name so that it doesn't die with him. So that's also a possible reason the theme is so popular if other writers are taking it into account.

For me, Canon Sebastian vs. Fanon Sebastian are two very different people because I'm always incorporating a few years into my fics to make him older. So he's more sure of himself, more confident, and more in tune with what he wants. If the man wants to turn MC into a twinkie to lay some ultimate claim on her, then by God he's gonna do it

Ultimately I think it boils down to all of us being kinky, weird freaks LOL. Out of all the characters in HL, I think Sebastian is the one who tends to be the most emotional, so that kind of translates into him being the one most willing/inclined to go crazy during sexy time.

[harrrystyles-writing]

Oiii amo sua escrita!!

Queria tanto um concept que ela está de tpm e eles estão sozinhos em casa, quero a referência 5 🥰

Frase:"Sorvete? um filme? abraços? o que você quer? Diga qualquer coisa."

NotaAutora: Muito obrigada pelo pedido amor espero que goste 💗 Olha eu voltando com os clichês aí aí Sorry kkkkk

Aviso: Clichê, fofura.

🌹Masterlist🌹

Harry Concept #23

Você estava jogada no sofá, com um cobertor felpudo enrolada em torno de si, neste mês a temida TPM havia resolvido vir com força, tudo parecia estar contra você. – A luz entrando pela janela, o barulho distante da rua, até mesmo a própria existência parecia irrita-lá.

A televisão estava ligada em um programa qualquer, pois com a dor era difícil se concentrar em algo. Seus olhos desviaram-se da tela assim que Harry, seu namorado entrou devagar, observando-a com atenção. Ele sabia que algo estava errado só pelo jeito como estava encolhida em seu cobertor com olhos lacrimejantes.Harry Aproximou-se e sentou-se ao seu lado, sua presença já trazia um pouco de alívio.

— Oi, como você está, amor? — perguntou, a voz carregada de preocupação.

— Eu me sinto péssima... — disse, frustrada — Tudo está me irritando hoje, e eu nem sei por quê.

Harry nem hesitou; puxou-a para mais perto, envolvendo-a em um abraço aconchegante.

— Eu sei, amor. Esses dias são difíceis, mas você não precisa passar por isso sozinha — ele disse, beijando o topo da cabeça dela. — Eu estou aqui.

— Eu só quero que isso passe logo — sussurrou.

Harry a segurou em seus braços por longos minutos, como se pudesse afastar todas as sensações ruins com seu carinho.

— Baby? — disse ele, afastando-se um pouco.

— Sim? — resmungou.

— Sorvete? Um filme? Abraços? O que você quer? Diga qualquer coisa — ofereceu, a voz cheia de paciência e amor.

— Tudo isso soa bem — respondeu, tentando sorrir através das lágrimas.

— Então vamos começar com um pouco de tudo. Primeiro, vou pegar o sorvete. Depois, a gente escolhe um filme e... muitos abraços — disse ele, levantando-se.

Você o observou sair, o coração um pouco mais leve. Harry Styles podia ser muitas coisas, mas um namorado ruim, nunca. Ele era gentil e amável, e talvez por isso você se apaixonou tão rápido por ele.

Minutos depois, ele voltou com uma tigela de sorvete de chocolate e a estendeu para você, sentando-se ao seu lado novamente.

— Chocolate, o remédio perfeito — disse ele, com um sorriso carinhoso.

— Você é o melhor — murmurou, sentindo-se grata por tê-lo ao seu lado.

— Só quero que você se sinta melhor, amor. Estou aqui para tudo, sempre — ele a puxou de volta para seus braços, segurando-a como se nunca fosse soltar.

E com o sorvete na mão, o filme começando, e o calor do abraço dele, você sentiu que, apesar da TPM e do seu dia terrível, tudo ia ficar bem.

Muito obrigado pela leitura! Se você gostou, por favor, considere deixar algum feedback, opinião, sugestão, idea AQUI isso significa muito para mim.💕

Taglist: @little-big-fan @say-narry @umadirectioner @harry-sofrida @lanavelstommo

Quer ser notificado também quando algo novinho sair por aqui? Mande o nome do seu blog AQUI

[mountsmase]

not really a concept but that picture of him with his shirt in his mouth has got me thinking about him ripping a condom open with his teeth and i am not okay 😩

oh my god 🫠 he wouldn’t want to take his hands off you so he’d keep one on your hip and the other would bring the wrapper to him mouth, tearing it open whilst not breaking the eye contact with you

[starythewriter]

BEHIND THE CURTAIN vinnie hacker X Y/N

The music thumped heavy through the walls, bass pulsing like a heartbeat as you slipped through the crowd. Somewhere between the full bottle in your hand and the swirl of neon lights, you’d lost track of your friends — but you hadn’t lost sight of him.

Vinnie Hacker.

He’d been watching you all night. From the couch. From the kitchen. From across the room while you danced, eyes slow and heavy like he was memorizing the way your hips moved. And now, he was close, truth is you’d been eyeing him too.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was low, rough silk laced with alcohol and heat.

You turned and looked up — and he was already in your space, taller than you remembered, hand catching your wrist gently but firmly. “Back inside?” you offered, teasing.

But Vinnie shook his head once and leaned in, breath brushing your cheek. “No. Not yet.”

He guided you toward the hallway — one long corridor dimly lit and quiet compared to the party chaos behind you. His hand never left your wrist, even as he pressed you gently but fully against the wall. It wasn’t rough — it was slow, measured, like he’d been thinking about this for hours.

“Do you want this?” he asked, voice suddenly serious.

Your heart pounded. “Yes,” you said, more breath than sound.

That was all it took.

His mouth was on yours in an instant, claiming and confident. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you in so your bodies pressed flush, no space between you. His thigh moved between yours, and when you gasped, he smiled against your lips.

“Already shaking,” he murmured. “You like being touched like this, huh?”

You nodded, dazed — and he rewarded you with a kiss along your neck, a bite, his teeth barely scraping skin.

“Words,” he said. “Say it.”

“I like it,” you whispered. “I like when you touch me.”

“Good,” he said, voice thick with control. “Because I’m not gonna stop.”

He kissed down your throat, fingers slipping beneath your shirt, dragging across skin. When his mouth returned to yours, it was slower — deep, sensual — and you melted into it, legs nearly giving out.

Vinnie noticed.

He caught your thigh and hitched it up around his hip, pressing closer, grinding slowly. You could feel him — hard, hot, and very aware of how wrecked you were becoming.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your ear. “You feel what you’re doing to me?”

You whimpered in response, and that just pushed him further. His hand slid between your legs, over your clothes at first, rubbing with slow, confident pressure. “You’re already soaked. All this for me?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Only you.”

That broke something in him.

“Say it again,” he demanded, fingers pressing firmer, more rhythmic.

“Only you. Vinnie, please—”

You didn’t even get to finish before he slipped his hand inside, fingers finding you with skill and control that made your knees buckle.

He growled softly, biting his lip as he worked you open. “So fucking tight. You’re gonna come just like this, huh? Right here, in the hallway, with my fingers?”

Your eyes fluttered. The pressure, the praise, his dominance — it was overwhelming in the best way.

“Vinnie,” you gasped. “I’m— I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” he whispered. “You’re gonna come for me, baby. Right now.”

And you did — shuddering, clenching around his fingers as he kept going, kept whispering filth and praise into your ear. He kissed you through it, tongue stealing your moans.

But he wasn’t done.

He unzipped himself, eyes never leaving yours.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

You obeyed without thinking, heart racing. Hands flat against the hallway wall, you felt him line up behind you, his body flush to yours.

Then he slid in.

Slow. Deep. A growl low in his throat.

“Fucking perfect,” he groaned, dragging out, pushing back in. “You were made for this.”

His rhythm built — hard and unrelenting — but never rushed. One hand gripped your waist, the other tangled in your hair, pulling just enough to make your back arch.

You moaned his name again, and again — a chant, a plea — and every time, he rewarded you with harder thrusts, more praise.

“You’re doing so good,” he said. “So fucking good for me.”

You felt it building again, second orgasm crashing over you harder than the first. He felt it too — the way your body clenched around him, the way your legs trembled.

“Fuck— come with me,” he gasped. “Come now.”

And you did.

Together.

Bodies shaking, mouths colliding, hips grinding through the aftershocks. He held you there, still inside you, breath warm on your neck.

For a second, neither of you moved. Just breathing. Just feeling.

And then he chuckled, soft and low. “Well,” he said, kissing your shoulder. “That was… scandalous.”

You laughed, breathless. “You started it.”

Vinnie grinned, nipping your ear. “And I’ll finish it next time, too.”

[disastrousdalliance]

[1800titz]

18+

potteryinstructor!Harry who has bulging arms covered in ink, and a fun little, red-tinted pearl earring dangling from one ear, and dried clay over his lengthy fingers all the way up to his forearms.

He owns the unit below his apartment, but instead of a restaurant or a bar the staircase from his front door leads down to a pottery shop. It’s tucked away in a busy plaza downtown and when he washes his hands in one of those big utility sinks in the back the muck rinses away to reveal red polish decorating his nails.

The first time Y/N meets him she’s just wandered into the store alone — it’s empty of people and quiet besides the soft notes of RÜFÜS DU SOL leaking from the overhead speakers. She roams beside the line of wheels to admire the variety of little statues adorning the shelving, some obviously crafted with expertise and elegant artistry, and some lopsided efforts that probably deserve one of those meme you trieded stickers. She’s just about to head out, but then a very, very — ludicrously, practically — handsome man steps out from some room in the back, bi’s and tri’s working with rigid muscle as he wipes his hands off into a navy little rag. His skin is tanned and clean but streaks of dry clay still coat his white graphic tee. The gray staining on white feels sort of like a sin, but something about his nonchalant nature in the way that he regards her gives her the impression that he doesn’t really give a fuck.

potteryinstructor!Harry who convinces Y/N to hop on the wheel for a lesson because he's bored, and she's pretty, and no one's come in for the last two hours, and he's just been messing with clay. Who tells her, “Take your bracelet off for me,” in this totally innocuous manner, solely to preserve the condition of her jewelry, but the way he tacks on the for me in combination with his sexy, sexy, sexy demeanor has this warmth blooming in Y/N’s chest.

potteryinstructor!Harry whose jade irises bounce from the lump of clay as he cups over her palms with his own warm grip and works it into a shapely cylinder to her own concentrated expression.

potteryinstructor!Harry who manspreads on the little stool across from her and explains the different stages of pottery making, who laughs softly when he stands up and turns away for a second and the cylinder Y/N’s cradled starts to wobble and collapse, who helps her by pressing his much larger hands back over her own and sculpting it back up into something more even.

potteryinstructor!Harry who makes charismatic small talk — who the fuck can manage to make small talk charismatic? — cheek propped in his hand behind the counter as he watches her shape the clay.

potteryinstructor!Harry who doesn’t disrupt Y/N’s work as she carves swirls into the clay after its torched despite the fact that the shop has been closed for half an hour.

potteryinstructor!Harry who does great work with his hands on a wheel and possibly even greater work with his fingertips roaming between her sticky thighs. Who sinks the digits into her and thumbs over her clit. Who licks a stripe from the outer border of her collarbone all the way to her ear, nipping back down over her jugular.

potteryinstructor!Harry who bends her in half and grapples over the back of her left hip with his right hand as he tucks his cock into her, whose red-lacquered fingertips scratch at her scalp when he bunches her hair, when he tugs on it as he twists her head to the side to share a sloppy, open mouthed kiss, licking into her mouth. Who switches positions and sits back in a chair and coaxes her until she’s leant back with her palms propped over the sturdy muscles of his thighs, who cradles over her throat with ring-covered digits and seemingly effortlessly ruts up into her, brows pinched and strawberry mouth parted in ecstasy.

potteryinstructor!Harry, potteryinstructor!Harry, potteryinstructor!Harry.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Hi! I would love to see Billy Hargrove and #37 👀❤️ Maybe also a secret relationship? I love your writing!

(37. Public sex) This had me going feral! Enjoy, lovie xoxo

Warnings: basically just smut. NSFW

It was a Saturday night out at the cocktail club on the high street and you had arrived on Nancy’s arm. Two intelligent and strong independent women— or so you led everyone to believe.

The bare truth was that you and Billy had been seeing one another secretly for a few months now. It was this exciting game you liked to play with one another; who could resist the other the longest? And how much could you drive the other insane?

You found ways to tease and toy with Billy’s emotions. You knew exactly what to do to earn his attention and Billy was often shameless with how he eyed you. It was as if he had been starving for days and you were a whole banquet of the most delicate and exquisite foods. He couldn’t wait to devour you.

And you made it all too easy for him. The short dress you had chosen for the evening barely covered your ass and it granted Billy smooth access to your pantie clad core beneath the dinner table.

His dark lustrous gaze drank in your facial expressions as you bit down your bottom lip hard enough to possibly draw blood; luckily your red lipstick would campflauge that if it were to happen.

You were already so wet for him, your lace panties damp with arousal as he skilfully pulled them to the side and plunged his fingers deep inside of your aching hole, thrusting his two digits softly and revelling in how your eyebrows frowned together in frustrated concentration as you fought to keep your pleasure hidden from your friends.

“Are you alright? Was the food not any good?” Nancy peers down at your empty in complete confusion before her eyes rest on your strained features. You looked as though you were in pain, but really, you were just in heaven.

“She loved it, didn’t you? Must’ve tasted so good for the plate to be clear, right?” Billy mocks you with his tone, a concealed teasing that only you were familiar with as his fingers twitch and curl into you, stretching you out so well that your lips almost elicit a moan and the sound of your wetness threatens to meet uneasy ears.

“Y-yep. It was so so good…” You choke down a whimper and decide to take a swig of water from the glass you had perched on the table. Billy lifts a forkful of chicken from his plate and places it onto his tongue casually, like he isn’t finger fucking you beneath the table cloth.

Nancy hums in approval and turns her attention back to her glass of wine which she necks back quickly before waving a waitress over for a refill. It was her third glass of the night and you were hoping she would be drunk enough to totally overlook the way your hips were swirling and bucking down onto the leather booth seat beneath you.

“Soaking my fingers, pet,” Billy’s voice is low and husky as he whispers slyly into the shell of your ear, his lips brushing your skin and setting your body alight, “Can’t wait to fill your sweet pussy with my cock later. I bet you’re so excited, hmm? Dirty fucking girl.” His thumb finds your clit and your eyes roll involuntarily to the back of your skull, forcing your eyes to pinch closed as you chase your high against the palm of Billy’s large palm that is massaging against you in such an intoxicating way, “Cum for me, slut. Cum all over my fingers in front of our friends.”

And as Billy’s teeth gnaw on the flesh of your earlobe you feel your thighs tremble against the leather seat beneath you and your hips buck mercilessly as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave; causing your thighs to clench around Billy’s wrist and lock his fingers inside of you as you pulse hungrily around his long meaty digits.

“Good girl,” He purrs reassuringly into your ear, his fingers still sliding slowly in and out of you, “I can’t wait to see how fun this night is about to get.”

[watermelonlovershigh]

Apologies and Giggles (SMUT) /concept/

AN: just another scene that kept playing in my head so i wrote it out. it's a little silly piece with a loving touch. enjoy.

This story contains: sex, giggles, apologies, mentions of ass play, kinda angsty?, harry being as sweet as ever

{ boyfriend!harry - softrry - current harry era }

word count- 389

During sex you accidently touch Harry's bum hole to which Harry finds hillarious but you get embarrassed and apologize.

"Baby, if you wanted to play with my ass you could have just told me." Harry says through giggles with his face in your warm neck.

See, you'd had your hands gripped on both sides of Harry's butt cheeks as he thrusted into you. But from his aggressive movements your fingers slipped between his crack and accidently touched his tight hole. After the initial shock of the touch, Harry fell forward and couldn't stop laughing.

"Har, I..... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean too, my hand just slipped." you try to apologize.

Hearing that you're not on the same page in this situation, Harry finishes his last giggle before sitting up, still inside you might I add.

"Y/N, love, why are you apologizing for? You've literally ate my ass before. You know I'm all for a little bum play." Harry says to consul your worried mind. He honestly didn't care one bit, even if it was only an accident.

Looking up to make the first eye contact since the accident occured, you rebuttal, "Yeah but it startled you. Like I should have asked to touch you there first and I didn't."

Harry leans back down so you're chest to chest again and speaks softly in your right ear, "Baby, we-are-havin' sex. We know each other's limits and do's and don'ts. As far as I know, I've never gave you a rule to not touch certain parts of me. I'm all yours. Whatever you wanna do or touch, I'm here for it. You don't have to ask. Just do what you know would make me feel good and I'll do the same to you, alright. And it only startled me because I just wasn't expecting it, didn't mean I didn't like it."

Very quietly, you mutter, "Okay, thank you for being so kind. Now can you start moving again because before I accidently touched your ass hole you were about to make me come."

Giggling again, Harry answers, "Yeah, want me to keep fuckin' you baby? Make you come?" You only nod your head and he continues, "Course I'll make you come, m'love. But like, can you do that thing with your fingers where you reach behind me and like, touch my bum hole." Now he's only mocking the incident.

You catch on to the giggles and gasp, "Harry!"

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

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My Masterlist Masterpost

[avonnimimi]

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Bigger the Better

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a/n: guys idk where this thought came from but here you go you lesbian bitches😚😚 honestly i think if ellie had a dick it would most definitely be 8 and half, maybe even 9😩 MEN AND MINORS DNI

content: strap-on-sex (r!receiving), dom!ellie, kind of non-con, dumbification, drooling, weed, intox. lmk if i missed anythinggg

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Two years with Ellie. Two years since she’d taken your virginity, shown you the ropes, the pleasure of a strap-on against your skin, between your legs. You loved her touch, the six inches of silicone she’d always used, the way her fingers and tongue knew just how to make you unravel. So when she brought up the idea of something bigger, you froze.

“Babe, we’ve been using six inches forever,” she whined, her voice laced with a need you recognized but couldn’t quite understand. “It’s like… I’m not fucking you to my full potential. My dick’s too small.”

“It’s not small, Ellie,” you’d whispered, your voice soft, trying to soothe her insecurity while secretly battling your own. Truth was, you were terrified. Six inches had been your world. Anything bigger felt like an unknown, a potential world of pain.

Weeks passed, the conversation buried, until one night, after a particularly long smoke session on the porch, Ellie came back inside, eyes red and heavy-lidded, a predatory glint in them as she focused on you.

“Hey, baby, I have a surprise,” she murmured, kissing your cheek softly. Like the trusting girlfriend you were, you followed her into the bedroom.

She rummaged in her bottom dresser drawer, pulling out a strap you’d never seen before. “Where did you get that, babe?” you asked, a knot of unease tightening in your stomach. She ignored you, tossing it onto the bed before picking you up, kissing you deep. You kissed back, your body reacting to her touch despite the growing anxiety.

She carried you to the bed, stripping your clothes off, her gaze lingering on your exposed pussy. “Got a bigger strap,” she mumbled, and that’s when you really saw it. It was significantly thicker, longer. Panic flared in your chest.

You clamped your legs shut. “Ellie, I don’t know if I’m ready for that. How big is it?” Your cheeks flushed hot.

Ellie pried your legs open again, a determined glint in her eyes. “Not that big, baby. Just eight and a half.”

Eight and a half. Your mind raced. Eight and a half was practically nine. And nine was basically ten, right? The numbers swirled in your head, amplifying your fear.

“Gonna fuck you real good, babe. Fill you up real nice.” Her words, husky and low, sent a shiver down your spine. Your clit throbbed, a traitorous response to the promise in her voice, even as your fear spiked.

She picked up her strap, shedding her own clothes and putting it on. The sheer size of it made your breath catch in your throat. Her fingers grazed your slick folds. “See, you’re already wet. You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

You bit your lip, looking away. “I-I do, but won’t that hurt, Ells?” Your voice trembled. “I’ve only ever had… what you’ve given me.” The reminder hung in the air, six inches had been your first, your only experience with anything that size.

“Don’t worry, babe. It’ll feel good.” She rubbed the tip of the strap-on against your entrance, pushing in just a bit, then pulling out. The squelching sound made her want to bury herself inside you.

Small moans escaped your lips, involuntary and needy. She pushed a little deeper, and you gasped, clenching around her. “Gotta relax, babe. Stop pushing me out.” She leaned down, kissing you softly, and you tried to obey, your body thrumming with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

She started fucking you with what she had inside, not all the way, but enough to make you moan her name. “E-Ellie, w-wait!”

But she couldn’t hold back. With a final thrust, she buried the entire eight and a half inches inside you. Your walls stretched, burning, accommodating the sudden fullness. You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

But then, the pain subsided, replaced by a stretching, filling sensation that made you arch your back and whimper. You were so wet, slick against the silicone. It was intense, overwhelming, unlike anything you’d ever felt.

Ellie grabbed your face, forcing you to look at her. “See? You love this shit,” she growled, her voice thick with satisfaction.

“O-oh my god!” Your thighs trembled, your back arched, your body reveling in the feeling of being so full.

“See, I know what’s best for you. You don’t gotta worry about nothing. I’ll take good care of you and this greedy pussy.”

And before you knew it, you were coming undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you, your orgasm a messy, chaotic release. You came hard, your muscles clenching around her strap, drool dripping from your lips, your hair a tangled mess. Ellie rode out your orgasm with you, her own pleasure building until she, too, came, her hips bucking against yours.

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this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2024

[amtrak12]

Niles 'conditioned to believe his pleasure ranks last if at all' vs Daphne 'loves touching and being an active participant and seeing her partner enjoying themselves' -- Fight.