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#reminding you every time you hug him that he IS the dANger
sky-is-the-limit · 11 hours
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Jealous!Phillip Graves x Shadow!F!Reader
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The door to Graves' office slams shut behind you, his grip firm as he pushes you up against the wall, one hand pinning your wrists above your head.
The jeans that were hugging your legs a few moments ago are now barely covering your thighs, his impatience only feeding your excitement like a trained animal fighting between obedience and its true nature.
The heat of his body presses into yours, blue eyes blazing with jealousy and before you can react, his mouth is on you immediately, biting at your lower lip, forcing a gasp from you as he pulls away with a menacing smirk.
''You think it’s funny, darlin’, flirtin’ with that Scottish bastard?'' His voice is sharp, low, words dripping with venom dangerous enough to make your heart want to jump out its cage.
He doesn't wait for an answer, his knee forcing your legs apart, pinning you in place. ''Laughin’ with him like I ain’t watchin’? You know better.''
Your breath catches as he pulls your shirt up, exposing the soft skin beneath his greedy hands. Fingers trail down your sides, possessive and rough, a constant reminder of who you really belong to and his touch promises to make the flesh tender.
''Phillip-'' You gasp, trying to catch your breath but he’s not letting up, not giving you a chance to explain while his hand slips down between your legs, palming the heat building there and the smug grin that spreads across his face is promising, a warning.
''That’s right, darlin’. Say my name.'' He nips at your earlobe, breath warm to contrast the cold sweat covering your body now. ''You wanna act out? Let’s see if you’re still laughin’ when I’m done with you.''
The sound of his belt hitting the floor echoes through the room. You’re already soaking wet, your body betraying you as you feel the slickness pooling between your legs and his fingers dip down, teasing at your entrance while he presses his cock against your thigh.
There’s no waiting, no teasing as he thrusts into you, filling you in one rough stroke. The stretch is perfect, your body trembling as you try to stifle the moans rising in your throat. He notices, of course, and his eyes flash dangerously.
''Oh, no. Don’t hold back now," Phillip taunts with mockery. ''You didn’t care who heard you flirtin’, so don’t you dare hold back your pretty little sounds now.''
He fucks into you with a punishing rhythm, his hand coming down to grip your ass, pulling you harder against him.
The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the quietness of the room, along with your panting breaths and his cocky chuckle every time you get too loud for anyone walking by to hear.
''That’s it. Feels good, doesn’t it?'' His hips snap forward, hitting deep inside you, making you cry out. ''You think anyone else could fuck you like this? Think anyone else would know exactly how to make you drip like this?''
You try to find something to say, some form of apology for pushing every single wrong button but all that escapes is a loud broken whimper as he slams into you again, your body already shaking uncontrollably on the edge.
''Yeah, that’s what I thought.'' The Commander sneers, burying himself deep inside, carving his name over and over. ''Remember this the next time you think about batin’ those pretty eyes at someone else.''
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bugintended · 10 months
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This is Menthol, my arthopodic abominable offspring. He's a real tough guy who gives good hugs.
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awxcoffeexno · 1 month
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ain't gon' ever deserve you
mutant!loganhowlett x human!reader one shot
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fic masterlist | nsfw claw worship
summary: logan has a nightmare and hurts you by accident - or - the one where you worship his claws the way they deserve.
content: mostly family-friendly claw worship. logan believes in the animal accusations but reader fixes it. reader is human, logan and reader have an established and v loving relationship, lots of reassurance and comforting for logan.
warnings: logan has nightmares, mentions of blood, logan self-hate, family-friendly knife play??????.
word count: 2.1k
a/n: listen, claw worship has been on my mind for a looooooong time. I'm too chicken to put up any of my nsfw writing yet so here's an sfw version with affirmations for poor baby lo-lo. also this is super inspired by logan and kayla's relationship and even uses some quotes from them.
you're deep asleep, dreaming of everything and nothing when you feel the sudden sharp sting in your arm.
eyes flying open, you open your mouth to hiss in pain but logan's lips are at your ear, snarling and grunting in his sleep again.
you look down to find his claws out, the metal tips digging into your arm. you exhale sharply, watching the warm blood seep down your arm and onto the new white sheets.
"no! n– no!" he growls, and you're forced to bite your lip as you try to pull away from his vice grip. when that doesn't work, you sink your nails into his arm.
"logan–"
"victor, NO!" he screams and sits up, yanking his claws from your arm and stabbing at the air in front of him.
victor creed. logan's brother and the bane of his existence. victor who haunts his dreams every single night, victor whose name you can never forget, victor who is now the reason logan's hurt you.
you sit up with him, aching for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. the burning pain in your arm an afterthought, you hear him swallow and gently let out a breath. he's sticky with sweat and the dry radiator air in the room isn't helping, the moon glowing through your glass walls, creating a halo around his head.
"nightmare." you state, letting him catch his breath and take in his surroundings.
he nods even though what you said wasn't a question but a statement. he twists around and pulls you into his lap, hugging you like he does near every night – chin tucked into your shoulder, arms wrapped all the way around your torso. he smells of soap and cigar smoke and the faintest hint of your shampoo. you smile to yourself and press a kiss to his hair.
"you're so cute." you mutter and a small smile spreads across his lips.
"cute?" he repeats, amused. "that's new." he pulls you closer, further down his lap and you can feel his heartbeat start to steady again.
"you used my shampoo again, and don't you deny it this time."
he scowls at you but lets you kiss him anyway. "reminds me of you," he sighs when he realises you won't stop until he admits it.
"but i'm right here," you giggle, running your thumb over the shell of his ear.
he opens his mouth to explain further but that's when he smells it. the blood he's drawn from your arm in his nightmare-fuelled anger at victor. his jaw tightens as he looks for the source of blood, finding three uniform slices on the outside of your forearm.
"no," he gasps, a thousand emotions crossing his eyes.
you try to wiggle your arm out of his grip, the blood running down your arm now. "hey... i'm okay."
"like fuck you are," he snarls, angry at himself.
how could he have possibly hurt you?! was this a thing now?? was he a danger to you even in his sleep?! god, he'll have to put you to sleep and then figure out a way to declaw himself. maybe if he just slices the back of his palms open–
"james..." you break him out of his thoughts, hand on his cheek. "baby, i'm okay. really. it looks worse than it feels."
"i'm going to rip these out." he whispers, holding his fists up, the back of his palms facing you. his words are as much a promise to you as a command to himself.
you grab his fists and glare at him. he blinks at your expression, looking at you over his hands.
"don't you dare say anything of the sort. these are a gift."
"a gift," he scoffs, "you can return a gift."
"these are a gift," you repeat sternly. "and i will not let you do anything to them."
he opens his mouth to protest but you aren't done. how dare he even think of hurting himself, of declawing himself when you love his claws as much as you love every last part of him.
you run your fingers over the back of his palms and whisper, "take them out."
"sweetheart..."
"take them out, my love" you repeat, kissing his knuckles because you know it hurts every time he does.
he carefully and very very slowly bares them and you look at him from between the blades.
not breaking eye contact, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the base of the middle claw on his right hand. you catch him shuddering and your eyes widen in surprise.
"you felt that?"
you can see him redden even in the dark. "'course i did," he grunts.
"what does it feel like?" you ask, fascinated. everyday you learn something new about him and it never fails to delight you.
you kiss the base of another claw on the other hand and see him inhale sharply.
he groans deeply, humming to come up with the right words. "like... you're stroking every nerve in me to life."
that makes you sit up on your haunches and wrap your fingers around his wrists. he freezes, bracing himself to yank the claws back in the second he thinks you might hurt yourself on the sharp ends. you carefully lick along the length of the claw between his pinky and ring finger on his right hand, making him exhale shakily.
"tryna kill me, sugar?" he says through gritted teeth, every muscle in his body tense.
"trying to show you how much i love your claws, lo. even if they hurt sometimes."
you loop your right hand between both of his, gently pressing the tip of your thumb against the sharp end of a claw. you run your finger up the blade, making him whine in protest as you draw blood.
his eyes implore you, pleading, but you simply take your hand up to his mouth, pressing your bleeding thumb against his lips. he relents, sucking it into his warm mouth and licking it clean.
"logan?" you whisper and he hums around your thumb.
despite the heat in your core, pooling between your legs, you need him to hear this. you'll have time to fulfil that need later.
"every part of you means everything to me. but your claws, especially your claws, have the most special place in my heart. they protect me. they make you feel good. and most of all, they're fucking cool."
and that finally makes him crack a smile again.
"y'think so?"
"mhmm."
"c'mere." he says finally, pulling his claws back in and tugging you back into his lap.
he makes you straddle him and kisses you warmly. he looks into your eyes with such fondness, it squeezes your heart. carefully he pulls his first claw out on his right hand and uses it to gently push your hair out of your eyes. your eyes flutter shut in response, leaning into his metal touch.
he brushes the back of the claw across your cheek and your lips part prettily for him. the air doesn't feel so thick anymore, the quiet humming of the refrigerator in the kitchen not overwhelming him the way it was when he snapped awake.
ever so carefully, pushing his own boundaries, he turns his wrist and pushes the flat of his claw onto your tongue. it's warm and tastes of him, salty and musky and like metal.
"that okay for you, pretty girl?" he mumbles and you can hear the strain in his voice. he's terrified but he so badly wants to be brave for you.
you wrap your lips around the claws and suck softly in response, drawing a groan of pleasure from him.
he shudders beneath you, every inch of him tense and trembling with restraint. you slide your tongue along the metal, tracing the edge of his claw with reverence, savoring the taste of him.
logan’s breath catches in his throat, and you feel the warmth of his exhale ghost across your face. his other hand, free of the adamantium blades, finds its way to your waist, gripping you tightly.
"god," he breathes out, voice rough and filled with a raw vulnerability you hear only at night. "you have no idea what you do to me."
you slowly release his claw from your mouth, letting it slide out with a deliberate slowness that has him biting back another groan. his eyes are locked on you, dark with need.
you reach up, cupping his face with your now clean thumb, and brush your lips against his in a featherlight kiss. "i think i do," you whisper against his mouth. "i want you to feel how much i love every part of you, logan. even the parts that scare you."
his claws retract with a soft snikt, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
"you're something else, darlin'," he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. you can feel the smile playing on his lips. "you make me feel... whole."
you nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. "and you make me feel safe," you reply, closing your eyes and letting the furnace heart of his presence envelop you. "always."
you feel his grip tighten, his hand trembling slightly against your waist. he's always been the warrior, the weapon, the animal, but here in your arms, he's just logan, just a man who’s been through more pain than anyone should endure.
"people see the claws and think i’m nothing but a beast," he murmurs, his voice thick with self-doubt. "like i’m more metal than man. they look at me and all they see is the damage i can do."
you pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands framing his face. he tries to look away, but you won’t let him. you press a soft kiss to his brow, then his cheek, and finally, to the corner of his mouth.
"they don’t make you an animal," you whisper, your voice even and filled with conviction. "they make you strong. they’re not just weapons, they’re part of what makes you you."
his breath hitches at your words, and you feel him struggle against the years of conditioning, the years of being told that he’s nothing more than a killing machine. but you won’t let those words hold power over him anymore.
you reach down, gently taking his right hand in yours. with care, you press a kiss to each knuckle, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. then, you look up at him and slowly, deliberately, coax his claws out again.
you run your fingers lightly over the metal, tracing the curves and edges with the same care you’d give to a delicate piece of art.
logan watches you, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, something like awe. "you don’t see me like everyone else does," he says, almost to himself.
"no," you agree, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of one of his claws. "i see you, logan. the real you. and what i see is a man who’s fought for so long to protect the people he loves, even when it’s cost him everything. your claws, they’re not just about hurting or fighting. they’re about protecting. they’re about survival. and they’re about who you have been for so long."
his chest rises and falls with each breath, the tension slowly easing from his body as your words sink in. for once, he doesn’t feel like an animal. he feels like a man, just a man. and it's nice.
"besides," you say, tone lightening. "so you really think I'm such a baby i can't handle three little cuts?"
you both know you're underplaying it and though he would never admit it in the day, the moonlight across his face betrays his grateful expression. it's easier to believe that he hasn't hurt you too much when you're saying it yourself.
you lower his hand, resting it against your chest, over your heart.
he swallows hard, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go. "ain't gon' ever deserve you," he whispers, his voice thick.
"you deserve everything," you murmur back, holding him just as tightly. "and i’m going to keep reminding you of that, every day."
for a moment, he’s silent, just holding you close. then, in a voice that’s barely more than a whisper, he says, "you almost make me feel human, darlin’."
you pull back just enough to kiss him again, only because you know he'd much rather feel than hear. your kiss is slow and tender, letting him feel the truth in your touch.
he doesn’t say anything more, but the way he kisses you back, the way he holds you, tells you everything you need to know.
he'll be okay. you'll make him okay. you gently push him to lie down and rest your head on his chest.
you love him, you love how he wants so badly to believe you, and most of all, you fucking love his claws.
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this stemmed from a very nsfw thought™ but here we are, all warm and fuzzy. a mostly non-angsty fic is new for me!!
hope you liked this x
love, d <3
--
edit: i wrote an nsfw claw worship fic too 🤠🤝🏽 >> unholy
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yvvxs · 2 months
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Physical Touch...‎ ‎
‎ ‎↪ ft. argenti. arlan. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng & imbibitor lunae. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. luka. luocha. sampo. sunday. welt.
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Argenti brushing your hair, making sure to gently undo any knots found in it. He would help you clean up any dirt from your skin and clothes, making sure you looked even more beautiful than you already were. You were his beloved, and he'd make sure to make you feel like it was so all the time through soft moments just like these.
Being in the infirmary with Arlan, who bandages up any wounds you got. He places soft kisses over small band-aids or bigger scars, making sure to help you feel better. He wouldn't want to let you hurt any longer than you already did. He promises that it'll be all better with him by your side.
Aventurine would hold you close to himself as you both roam the casino. Winning every single game he played, as always. Letting every other patron there know that you were the only one allowed to be so close to the luckiest man in the building. No one would be able to catch his heart just as you have with him as he places a kiss on your forehead, silently reminding you with a smile.
In between missions, Blade would hold you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing soothing patterns into your back. Elio hadn't assigned him to the next thing in the script yet, so he still had time to be with you, to give you some attention before he has to set off for whatever dangers he'd be going through next.
Despite not being able to feel much, Boothill gives you so much love. An arm wrapped around your waist, tight hugs which brings you closer to himself. Whenever he feels like he wants to feel your touch, he just nuzzles his face into you, chuckling gently with a smirk on his face. Knowing you're too good for someone like him.
Caelus clinging onto you while the Crew watches a horror movie together in the Astral Express. He yelps at the smallest thing, holding you close to himself for dear life. Despite going through life-threatening things, he still was a little scaredy-cat underneath all of that, your little raccoon boyfriend would never change, not like you'd want him to.
Laying your head on Dan Heng's shoulder as he types out something on the Data Bank after your last mission. All of you were tired from what you had experienced, but he diligently writes more information for everybody. Also, gently caressing Imbibitor Lunae's horns, placing soft kisses on them as his tail wraps around your hips, silently trying to pull you closer to himself.
Bathing with Dr. Ratio, he thoroughly washes your body, touching you in places only he can. The bubbly sensation relaxing the two of you as you clean up together. Enjoying the soft, alone time, just for the both of you. With no other people to pry or disturb either of you.
Gallagher guiding your hands as you two work at the Dreamjolt Hostelry. Making sure to help you find the correct ingredients to serve to your different customers. Handing you something he was previously using, your fingers grazing over one another's and feeling the small and short touches that you two share every now and then.
Sitting in the Silvermane Restricted Zone with Gepard, as he lets you bandage his wounds he got from the battles with the Fragmentum. He wasn't fully invincible, and him getting hurt would be inevitable. He knew that his job was dangerous, but letting you at least know he was okay, and that you can make him feel better would make himself feel better.
Jing Yuan letting you sit on his lap as he works. His work was usually boring most of the time, but when you were there with him, it made it so much more interesting. He nuzzled into your neck every now and then, smirking against your skin as he inhaled your scent. He could never get sick of these times with you, and no one could take you away from him, not even the Master Diviner.
Cuddles with Luka after he wins his last match at the Fight Club. It's his little reward from you that he always looked forward to. Even if he did lose, which we all know would barely actually happen, he would always be spoiled like this. He would always love having your warmth and comfort after hard work put into his fights.
Luocha's fingers intertwined with yours as the two of you go through the Luofu together. He wasn't anyone else other than your lover when he was with you, and he'd make sure you know it. Kisses on the back of your hand or playing with your hair when the two of you were alone, or even when there was a man secretly watching from behind the scenes.
Holding Sampo's face in your hands as you gently scold him for conning another person. He just wanted to get money for you, but that didn't mean he had to get it through means like this. You remind him not to do that again, though we both know that he would do it again, all for you.
You were the only one who was loved enough by Sunday to be able to touch his soft wings, other than his own sister. He would let you clean them up, touch them up and even preen any loose feathers that stuck out from the rest. Normally, he'd do it himself, but if it made you happy to help, then he'd let you do what you want.
Laying down with Welt on the couch in the Astral Express' Parlor Car, cuddling with him after a long day of missions at your current stop. He would brush his fingers through your hair. Your head on his chest, his other arm wrapped loosely around your body. Resting for the next day that would be full of exciting adventures for the two of you.
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Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.
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bbeoms · 3 months
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rugby!simon headcanons
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hello, my sports hyperfixation this summer is rugby union, thus here i present you my rugby player simon riley brainrot! decided to write it cause why not???? someone needed to bring this idea to life. i hope you enjoy <3
fluff, suggestive, slight hurt/comfort
- plays as a forward (more specifically, second row/lock) so he’s always there during a scrum!
- and as we know, forwards are usually huge men 🤭 so 6’4 117kg simon is the perfect candidate
- you have to restrain yourself every time he’s in his kit cause have you seen how tight their jerseys and shorts are?????
- you can’t help but stare at how the fabric hugs his pecs and how the sleeves are lowkey cutting off circulation to his arms cause of how large his biceps are (and the way his tattoos peek out from the sleeves? chefs kiss)
- hikes up his shorts when he knows you’re watching and smirks when he catches you staring at the thick muscle of his thighs
- avoids wearing his kit around you when you’re ovulating cause he’s not sure he can control himself with the way you eye him like you’re ready to pounce
- (he learned his lesson after that one time you went to a match when you were ovulating. simon didn’t think it was possible, but you managed to milk him dry after you guys went home that night 💀 the hormones made you too feral until you managed to make him tap out lmao)
- anyone else become possessed by a succubus during ovulation?,,,,,, just me?,,,,, okay,,,,
- doesn’t usually wear a scrum cap during his matches
- but there was a couple of times he had to wear it (per the doctors recommendation) to protect stitches he had near his ear
- “ohmygod si you look like the end of a pencil ✏️”
- sulked at your teasing, he didn’t want to wear it either 😭
- you cooed and proceeded to shower his face with lil kisses until he forgave you
- felt his heart melt when you squished your cheek to his and took a selfie, your smile wide as you laugh at the way his blond strands were cutely sticking out of the cap (and how he still, looked like the end of a pencil)
- made it his lockscreen immediately
- being a rugby girlfriend isn’t always fun and games though
- it’s an extremely physical and dangerous sport and although you’d like to think simon is invincible, he’s still human
- it’s hard to believe but there are quite a number of players that are taller and heavier than him (you can’t say they have the same skill set though, simon is really good at his job)
- there’s always an underlying feeling of anxiety every time you watch him play
- injuries are a given
- split skin, bleeding ears and broken bloody noses are some of the more tame injuries you’ve seen simon get.
- simon coos at your tears and furrowed eyebrows whenever you tend to his injuries during rest days
- you don’t like seeing your man hurt!!!! :(((
- (okay but it is pretty hot when he gets all bloody in the face like in the first picture like hello??? lemme jump on you)
- straddling his lap while wiping the dried blood off his eyebrow
- “gimme a kiss”
- being cheeky and steals a kiss on your lips after you ignore his request
- reassures you that he’s alright and reminds you that he’s had worse injuries
- you give him a glare, silently telling him to not remind you of that time you thought he died on the pitch
- simon got hit with a high tackle, the fucker that was attempting to tackle him had his shoulder straight into simon’s neck (the guy got a red card deservingly) knocking simon back and motionless on the pitch
- you watched in horror as multiple bodies pile on top of him, not noticing that simon was out cold
- soon enough, the team’s medics were on field and stretching him away for treatment
- simon still feels your gentle touch on his face that day, thumb rubbing his cheek willing him to be okay
- he still remembers the look on your face despite being concussed. distraught, dried tears staining your cheeks.
- you were so scared, you didn’t know how bad his concussion was and what the aftermath of such injury would entail.
- he’d never felt such tenderness before
- he couldn’t believe that someone cared about him that much, didn’t think that he would ever find someone to love him like you do
- whispers i love you for the first time in his dazed state
- decides at that point that he won’t let you go, and has become a simp ever since <3
left to right pics: david pocock, tariq sims, chris robshaw (<- he would lowkey make a good simon riley imo)
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cupcakeinat0r · 8 months
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<3 Valentine’s Breakfast w/ DadBod!Miguel <3
[NSFW]
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With the sun rays flowing in through the curtains, your eyes flutter open, your blurred vision focusing in on the gorgeous man lying on top of you. This is usually how it is. You start the night laying on his hairy and soft chest, but after tossing and turning through the night, you two never failed to end up in this position. It sort of just happens. You believe it’s Miguel’s need to protect you in every sense of the word, so he just absentmindedly engulfs you in his sleep.
Miguel was a big man. In every way. It was sort of hard to breathe when he was on you like this.
But that was more than ok. In fact, you thrived on the feeling of all his body weight on yours, his face snuggled deep into the crook of your neck and his Herculean arms wrapped around you, not too tight, but just enough so that you weren’t going anywhere. And yes, his snoring was loud, but you learned to love it, it becoming the music to your ears on mornings like this.
It only takes you a few seconds for it to click.
It’s Valentine’s Day.
You smile to yourself, excited about all things you have planned for Miguel. But first… to figure out how the hell you were gonna get Gigantor off of you.
Unable to move, your head isolated, you look around for ideas. With your free hand, you reach for the blanket, slowly pulling it off of him in hopes he’ll move off of you to wrap himself in it again. Your idea succeeds, and he frees you just enough for you to sneak off the bed.
In the most cautious way humanely possible, you sneak out of the room (not before you softly kiss his forehead) and into the kitchen. You weren’t too worried, though. Miguel didn’t get to sleep in a lot like this due to his work, but when he did, not even a geographical disaster could wake him. You were safe.
You start listing in your head all the things you remembered you wanted to make him.
Your hands were ace in the kitchen. Everything you made, Miguel loved. One of his favorite parts of the day was coming home after a long day of work and into the arms of his cute sweet little housewife, a plate of delicious warm food already ready for him on the table. It’s kinda funny; it’s you he blames for his weight gain, but you always reply with how much you absolutely love him that way, accompanied by a kiss and a playful smack to his juicy butt (which has also gotten larger, props to you).
You slave away in the kitchen, making sure everything was perfect, even down to exacting the edges of your heart-shaped pancakes, which matched the heart-shaped strawberry slices.
You go to check on the sleeping giant. He’s still knocked out thankfully, except he’s on his back now, hugging a pillow (thinking it’s you no doubt). Aw.
You notice that the blanket wasn’t on him anymore, which allowed you a beautiful view.
His dark wavy hair sprinkled with hints of gray tussled from his sleep. His 5 o'clock shadow framing his perfect, dark, plump lips. His thick neck, chest and arms, peppered with dark hair as well, resting beautifully. His soft midsection, rising and falling with each dad snore. Near his happy trail was a prominent tent, the print of his huge cock tightening his briefs. You bit your bottom lip at his morning wood. God, this man was too perfect for his own good. You could feel yourself salivate as you remind yourself of all the other things you had to get to like decorations or lighting the candles or the rose petals…
It doesn’t take much for you to give into your urges. He won’t miss the candles or any decorations anyways…
He’ll appreciate what you’re about to do way more.
You silently climb onto the foot of the bed, your face dangerously close to the bulge. You give it a small caress, your hands gently molding around the shaft on top of the fabric of his boxers. You look up when you evoke a barely audible groan from Miguel, who’s still asleep.
You apply just a little more pressure in your next caress, this time making his dick twitch and his hips faintly buck up into your hand, his instinctive neediness signaling you to proceed with your lustful endeavor.
You then lift the band of his boxers, his completely hardened cock immediately springing up. You have to literally suck in your lips to muffle a moan.
Your eyes drink in his perfectly shaped bush at the end of his delicious happy trail, the pumped veins going up his shaft, the singular drop of pre-cum already running down, and finally his fat tip. He was perfect.
You use the juice already there as lubricant, slowly stroking his dick, the other hand on his thick, hairy thigh for support.
You start to feel Miguel‘s thighs contract and hips slightly bucking up some more, little grunts escaping his lips. His arms tense up as well, his muscles clenching around the poor pillow.
His small, slow thrusts drove you crazy, not able to wait any longer to put your mouth to use. You test the waters by giving his tip soft licks, swirling your tongue on it in lazy, annoyingly slow circles.
This grants you a few quiet hums from him, his belly and round pecs rising and falling faster, his body telling you to keep going for him.
Faint ‘Ffuuuckkk’s and ‘Mmm’s were sighed in his sleep, brows furrowed, lips in a pout; signs that you were doing amazing.
You then take him in completely, hollowing out your mouth for him as much as you possibly can, because as mentioned before, this man is big.
You bob your head slowly a few times. It’s when you pull him out with a pop! and start treating it like your own popsicle does his eyes finally slowly open, his lips curling when he looks down at his now very cock drunk girlfriend with a satisfied smirk. His chuckle is low and silk-like, his morning voice making your cunt clench around nothing.
“Well,” his breathing remains labored, his jaw hanging open, “Good morning to you too, Mamita… Mmfuck.”
He says as you maintain eye contact, your lips wrapped around his long and thick member, tongue tracing along a vein. You pull away with a wet smack before saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy”, in the most sing song tone of voice.
Miguel tuts at your adorable yet seductive response, “ay, beba, so thoughtful n’ good to me…do that again...” he pleads.
“Like this, Daddy?” You ask, lapping your tongue over his tip just the way he likes it.
“Oh-oh fuck… si, just like that, mamita, así, goood girllll.” his head falls back against the headboard for a moment to sigh before looking back down at you again, seeing his balls in your mouth as your thumb works on his sensitive tip almost making him instantly burst.
You know he’s getting close when he starts panting, propping himself on his elbows and reaching a hand out to your scalp (it practically covers your entire head), gently applying pressure now that he’s in your mouth again. “Aw shit…. I’m close, mama, almost there… fuck, takin’ my fat cock so well, princesa…” He mutters apologies and thank you’s as he relentlessly rams into your mouth, his bush managing to meet the tip of your nose almost every time. He growls as he starts greedily thrusting his hips, face fucking his release into you.
You take your sweet time pulling him out of lips, making sure to get every single drop, your eyes on his the entire time. Once he’s out of your mouth, he sees you swallow, “Open,” and you do as he asks, “diablo, mami, eres tan sucia.” You begin to sit up, wiping your mouth, “Only for you, baby… C'mon, there’s some things in the kitchen for yo-“
“Oye, whoa whoa whoa,” He grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the bed and pulls you toward himself, “I didn’t say we were finished, did I?”
You fall into the bed again, Miguel guiding your hips onto his lap as he sloppily makes out with you, his tongue practically down your throat. “I’m not done with you yet, nena,” he mumbles against your lips.
He lays back down on the bed, “C’mere. Sientate.” He brings his hands up to his face motioning for you to sit on your throne.
You wince, now realizing you forgot that you had meant to shave last night.
“Babe, noooo wait... I haven’t shaved…”
Miguel furrows his brows, a confused scowl on his face.
“Mama. Look me in the face and tell me if I look like I care.” You begin to smile seeing how Miguel was starting to look genuinely mad at you for saying such a ridiculous thing.
“Now, I said sientate. I’m hungry.” He says sternly.
“You sureee? You really don't have to-”
“I don’t like repeating myself.” He commands. This man wasn’t playing any games. He was starving.
Your smile widens at his insistence. Your boyfriend was a real man.
Placing your hands on his hairy, thick body for support, you scoot your way up to his face, Miguel’s grin getting wider as your wet cunt comes into full view.
“So perfect for me, fuck,” His voice is sweet and tender now, planting a few equally tender kisses on your inner thighs, making sure to show them some love before you squeeze his head between them like a melon. “Te amo mucho, you know that, mama? Wanna make you feel good, beba.”
“Mhm,” You nod, biting your lip as the breath of his voice tickles your womanhood.
If Miguel could, he would just live in between your thighs just like this for all of eternity. His absolute favorite place in the whole world. “N' when I tell you to sit on my face, yo nunca quiero ir ese porqueria, understood?”
His stern tone made both your heart and pussy flutter. “Yessir.”
Your hands use the edge of the headboard as support, tentatively hovering your hips over his face as he showers your inner thighs with loving pecks and nibbles, the smack of his lips making your pussy clench again.
One of his big hands steadies your hips with a tight grip, the other moving your panties aside to reveal your unshaven lips.
“Prettiest pussy ever…. y todo es mio. Fuck, you’re so wet, mamita, did I do that?” He speaks mockingly.
You sigh when his lips kiss your clit, his tongue following shortly after by flicking it a couple times. You hear him grunt beneath you after having to lift his head off the bed to reach your hole.
"Baby, sit down. All of your body weight." He's short with his words. It sounds more like an order than a request.
"But Miguel-"
He breathes out, "You're really testing my patience, mama." And with that, his massive hands wrap firmly around your waist and pull you down, a yelp falling from your mouth as he feasts on your sensitive pussy.
Miguel is the definition of a munch. His head movement adds to the stimulation, moving it up and down, side to side; any effort to submerge his face deeper into your folds. His nose, the perfect size and shape that brushes against your clit while he simultaneously slurps and tongue fucks your cunt. The vibrations of his ‘Mmmph’s, the scruff of his face rubbing against your inner thighs, and softly pressing your clit between his tongue and front teeth were the cherry on top.
Your sounds are pornographic as he eats you out. When you're unable to sit up straight anymore due to the immense pleasure, you lean back, hands landing behind you on his soft pecs, pushing into them in an effort to get some kind of break, but Miguel wasn't having it. Plus, he was way stronger than you. There was no escaping him. A small part of you wondered how he was going so long without coming up for air, but you quickly answer your own question when you remember that your man loves to eat, and when he does, he’s like a starved man. Each time you pushed, his grasp only got stronger, but as much as you pushed, you truthfully didn't want him to stop. Ever.
"B-baby, baby… I- I- c-can't," you cry, unable to speak without stopping mid-sentence to let out a whine, "I'm so close, Daddy, don't stop, please, don't stop, don't stop!" You became a broken record, all sense leaving your body. The only thing on your mind was Miguel's mouth ravishing your weeping cunt. You sat forward again, now tugging on his hair, making him hum further and fueling his hunger. "Mmmph fuck! I won't mama, I won't, don't worry... I'll give you whatever you want," You began to literally ride his face, desperately chasing your climax with his hands slapping against your ass. Miguel was in heaven with this view, bucking his own hips into the air from how perfect you looked like this.
“Mmm… such a dirty fuckin’ girl you are,” smack, “wakin' me up like this… ay, que ricoooo, sabe tan dulce,” smack, “puta madre, Puedo vivir de este coño y nada más…” both his voice, an octave lower, and the wet, sucking sounds of his mouth helped uncoil the knot in your stomach, bursting on his handsome face.
Your hips stutter and your jaw falls open when you cum, Miguel drinking in your juices as if he’s been stranded on the Sahara for weeks. You could’ve split his skull into two, that’s how hard you pressed your thighs together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Miguel finally lets you go, allowing you to sit on his chest now, both of you catching your breaths. He smirks back up at you, and you roll your eyes, blushing. "awww, mi princesita gets all shy when I make her cum, eh?"
"Leave me aloooneeee." With Miguel’s big hands as support and guidance, he rolls over, so he’s still in between your legs, but you’re now the bottom, and him the top. With your legs now around his waist, He chuckles at you and goes to kiss your flushed cheeks.
Then he goes in for a sweet, romantic kiss on the lips. You feel safe and taken care of while feeling his body weight on you again, his soft tummy against yours and his big muscly arms wrapped securely around you. You can feel his cock twitch against your overstimulated cunt, completely soaked from his second climax from simply eating you out, no doubt. He moves any hair on your face aside, caressing your cheek when he does.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, princesita. Have I told you how much I love you?” He coos, pure adoration in his eyes.
You manage a soft, tired smile, “Every day. I love you, too.” you chuckle, “Oh! I made you breakfast! You must be hungry, baby…” you say, as you start getting up.
He gently stops you, and you lay back down.
“I am… but not for food.”
Safe to say the feast you prepared was cold by the time y’all got to the kitchen<3
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Hope u liked it <3 It's a bit longer but I've been thinking alottttt about this tee hee!!!
This is a culmination of my thots and the thots of some of my hot moots, so Tysm @mybvalentine @gltzpzy for the ideas <3
Happy Valentine’s season, my loves!!! Wishing everyone not only a day but a whole new year of love. Not just romantic love, but also the love of your friends, family, and above all, the love for yourself <3
Speak to yourself kindly, treat your heart nicely, and consume all the chocolate!!!! You deserve ittt!!!
P.s. n if u don’t have a Valentine’s, I’ll happily be urs 🤭 MWAH!
- Cupcake xoxo
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!
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bwabys-scenarios · 8 months
Note
helloooo!! I saw ur requests were open and that you were askin for some dungeon meshi x chubby reader....I gotchu covered.
May I please request some Chilchuck(or..Chilchack?? Ive no clue what the spelling is..) x Chubby!Reader and maybe also some Laois x Chubby!Reader? If you dont do multiples then either guy is fine!!
Sfw and nsfw on how they interact and think of your body? Scenarios like you tending to grab Chilchuck away from danger alot so he gets alot of booba action?? Embarrassed flustered old man?? Having to look up at you(if you were to be taller) but all he sees is ur chest?? Him givin Alot of needy attention to them when you do fool around cuz it Has been a big thing on his mind?? Him stiching and adjusting ur undershirt so it actually helps support ur chest a bit better and ur so grateful? Laois having a staring habit when he spaces out...yknow him and his tendencies to be curious(he wanted to Count Izutsumi nipples for gods sake.), he just doesnt know, he doesnt mean for it to be creepy or anything he jus is SO infactuated w ur body its so so so beautiful to him, him getting super happy and starts exploring ur body when consent is given?? Alot of his attention is on ur chest too, weighing it, squeezing. Stuff w warm body heat too, Just all around big loving
Thank you so much if you decide to do this and incredibly sorry if I messed up in my ask in anyway 💖💖💖
Chilchuck x Chubby!Reader SFW/NSFW HCs
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!
a/n: I will do the Laois one in a separate post!! The Chilchuck ideas just… spoke to me!! Also pls send me Dungeon Meshi requests… I’m open to writing for all the adult characters…
warnings: boob sucking, tittyfucking, breeding, cockwarming, thigh fucking, pussy eating
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SFW
-you’re probably the only one in the party that he can sleep next to without complaining. you’re soft and warm, and when you ask if you can share his bed with him for the night because it’s cold, he’s… a bit too eager to lift up his blanket for you to join him.
-he complains that you don’t eat enough, and ends up giving you bits of his lunch and dinner. he just think your chubby cheeks are so cute when you’re chewing and likes to watch you eat. he does worry for you though…
-if it’s dark and you’re a bit afraid, he’ll hold your hand. if you ask him why in front of Laois or Marcille he’ll get all flustered and say he didn’t want you to trip him up.
-he only reaches your boobs, which is both a blessing and a curse for him. he can look at your boobs all day with little to no suspicion, but he also gets pulled into your boobs quite often when you hug him or try and save him from an attack. that might sound good to some people, but to him it gets him all flustered and hard embarrassed, then he gets teased by Marcille :(
-oh my gosh snuggles with him are so nice. he’s rather light so once the two of you are close, he’ll lie on top of you and bury his face in your chest or tummy! he’s actually quite the cuddlebug, and will want to snuggle you every single night after the first time.
-your tummy… he loves it so much. Chilchuck is quite the fan of anything soft, so more often than not, when he’s taking a nap he’ll have his head in your lap and face buried in your chubby tummy.
-he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection in front of the others, so ways he shows he cares are usually subtle unless it’s behind closed doors or away from prying eyes. he peels your apples for you, bandages you up after you get hurt, will tug on your shirt to remind you that he’s here and that he loves you, and give your palm secret kisses when no one’s looking.
-he’s surprisingly possessive? when Laois looks at you, even if he’s just curious and wants to ask you questions, Chilchuck rushes over and finds some excuse to pull you away. he’s the most worried about Laois, but doesn’t like Senshi being all close to you either. he puts up with it more though, but dislikes that Senshi acts like yours and his relationship is like puppy love(Chilchuck is a grown ass man 😭)
-he’s very soft with you, very rarely being sarcastic or short with you specifically. he made you cry once early on in your relationship and it absolutely devastated him, so since then he’s been a lot more careful about what he says
-speaking of crying, he can’t stand your tears, it makes him nervous. if you’re a cry baby be prepared for him to be fretting over you constantly!
-you’re the person everyone in the party wants to snuggle with when it gets cold, so he has to shoo people away, blushing and stuttering about how they’re crowding you. once they’re all pouting and walking away, he huffs and snuggles up to you. you find his jealousy pretty cute, so you lift up your shirt a little so he can duck under it and rest his head on your chubby tummy or breasts.
-your chubby cheeks activate his cuteness aggression. he didn’t even know he liked cute things until he saw your cheeks puffed out and warm after someone made you mad. he nearly stopped breathing, it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t help but cup your cheek in his hands. your face heated up even more when he stared up at your with those adoring eyes, gently pinching your cheeks. “soft… so soft and warm…”
-he can be a bit clingy at times, especially when it gets colder out. when you go to sleep, he has to sleep under your shirt, his head on your chest or tummy. you complain about him stretching your your shirts, but he thinks the slightly oversized look is cute on you. honestly, everything is cute on you, because you’re adorable to him.
NSFW
-boobies… he loves your boobs so much. they’re soft and warm, feeling nice and heavy in his hands when he holds them. loves when he gets to bury his face in your bare chest and just snooze… but he also adores getting to play with your nipples, gently nibbling and suckling on the perky buds. he won’t lie, he can get hard just from looking at your clothed chest…
-he is absolutely a service dom that wants to make you feel good, but he can also enjoy being taken care of sometimes!
-enjoys being between your thighs more than he likes to admit. the first time he tasted your pussy was also the first time you ever saw him look so… in love. he gets pussy drunk within minutes, not able to stop sucking on your sensitive clit until you push his head away. he had a wife so he’s definitely experienced with pleasing a woman, so don’t be surprised when he has you cumming on his tongue for an hour or more! <3
-when he’s feeling a bit horny and doesn’t want to bother you at night, he’ll kiss your temple and hold onto your hips as he fucks your thighs, his cock lightly brushing against your pussy. your thighs are fat and soft, and he just loves nestling his cock between them!
-sometimes he’s just tired and wants some snuggles, so he’ll have his cock buried inside of you while you sit on his lap. the first time he asked for this you were terrified you’d crush him because he’s so small and you’re chubby, but he begged for it, something he had never done before. you relented, and as soon as he was buried inside of you, with his head nuzzled against your chest, he looked just too content. “thank you, love… it’s perfect…”
-he’s embarrassed by how good it feels to hear you moan his name, when you say how his cock feels so nice when it hits that certain spot and how you’re gonna cum way quicker than he expected. you being so attracted to him, feeling so much pleasure by him just thrusting into you gets him feeling giddy!
-he most certainly has a bit of a breeding kink… he has 3 daughters already that he loves, but… the urge to claim you and give you a child as well does make his body heat up and his pants grow tight. Chilchuck would like to get you pregnant, but only when it’s safe to do so. he doesn’t pull out though… he just can’t, it’s too tempting and you’re way too warm and cozy… it’s why he loves cockwarming so much!
-circling back to boobs… he’s definitely the type to enjoy a good tittyfuck, but it’ll take him a while to accept this. he’s utterly embarrassed to have his cock anywhere near your face due to being a bit shy, but once he’s nestled between your breasts and your tongue touches the tip of his cock, he groans, nearly cumming right then and there. he’s already a huge fan of your breasts, so feeling them on his cock is otherworldly, and it becomes one of his favorite ways to relieve stress
-he likes to either cum inside of you or on your tummy… he refuses to cum on your face, and will only cum in your mouth if you ask. when he fucks your thighs, he does tend to make a mess all over you and feels awful since it’s not exactly easy to bathe regularly in the dungeon. but you do look awfully cute, messy and sticky with his cum, puffing out your chubby cheek to give him a pout.
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year
Text
𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭 || (kinda)dark!javier peña x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || he's your dad's best friend, he's a narc, he's the guy you've been calling 'tio' most of your life... so he's not the guy you want to run into when you're out partying a little too hard.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 6.5k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || dubcon smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, reader is under the influence and under duress), age gap (not specified but it's big lol but they are of course both adults), dad's best friend trope, pseudo incest (reader calls javi tio/uncle but they are not related), drug use, jealousy, unprotected sex, orgasm control, rough/aggressive sex, we're talking complete total and permanent gut rearrangement, crying during sex (from overstimulation not like, being sad), hair pulling, 'sir' kink (briefly), creampie, basically just a kinky filthy mess idk what else to say
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The bass was so loud you could feel it in every part of you— like your own heartbeat, but everywhere. The throbbing music, the heat, the sweat; it was an overwhelming experience, even before you took the pill… but now, it was transcendent.
Everything was lit up in electric colors, neon pink and green blending together into some impossible color you couldn’t describe; the dancers around you had their arms raised in the air, jumping and swaying with the music, and it reminded you of the waves in the Caribbean Sea— you know, the ones you never had time to go see even though you lived just a few miles from the beach.
Frankly, you didn’t have time for this either: you should be studying for midterms, but the stress of college was becoming overwhelming and you were reaching a breaking point.
Or, maybe you already had, considering this was your coping method. It wasn’t your usual approach, but you hadn’t needed anything this drastic before. Maybe it was because you weren’t just escaping from the stress of school, but from the tension at home with your parents.
Perhaps what was most frustrating about that situation was that you were pretty sure they didn’t even realize how badly they were driving you insane… especially your dad. He didn’t see any problem with the fact that he tried to control every aspect of your life, regardless of your age. You could appreciate them not wanting you to do anything dangerous or harmful— you could even understand the whole ‘my house, my rules’ thing to an extent— but it went too goddamn far every day. You couldn’t go anywhere else without being questioned, yet you couldn’t exist at home without being criticized.
That was why you were here, and here, you weren’t being critiqued or belittled or micromanaged— actually, you were very… well-received, to put it lightly. You’d caught more than a few glances this evening, and now you were getting more than that: they were dancing with you, pressing against you… touching you.
It should’ve felt wrong, but you’d been craving approval of any kind, and the lascivious looks up and down from the guy in the indigo silk shirt felt like a compliment when you had a couple drinks in you.
A hand covered in gold rings groped your ass, and you hummed through a wide smile. He spoke into your ear, but even so close you couldn’t hear anything— it didn’t matter, anyways; you nodded, dazed. You figured the pill was enhancing, if not creating, whatever connection you felt with this stranger, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care how risky it was to go home with him, either, you just needed to feel tonight.
The voice in your ear mumbled something about how sexy you are, and you were about to melt into the arms of whoever it was— but then you heard another voice, just behind you. This voice was familiar; this voice spoke your name, and you turned around sharply.
"Tio!" you gasped as Javier glared down at you; you'd never felt so small in your life. He could do that so easily, but usually by giving you a big bear hug or calling you niña; this was a less pleasant method. “I— what are you—?”
“Work,” he answered shortly, yelling just to be heard. “You shouldn’t be here.”
No, you shouldn’t be anywhere that Javi was working, but you especially shouldn’t be here— a nightclub, known for wild hook-ups and party drugs. Dancing with guys. Wearing a dress you picked out specifically because you liked the way it showed off your… everything.
“What would your daddy think if he saw you like this?” he growled, grabbing you by the arm, and you whimpered but gave in to him— no point arguing, or denying anything, now.
He dragged you through the club, out the back where you could talk without the music drowning everything out. It was still loud until the metal door shut on its own behind you— and even still, you could hear the thumping of the bass, catch a few notes of the melody here and there, but you weren’t really focused on that with Javi giving you the glare of a lifetime.
“Never thought you were that kinda girl,” he frowned.
“I swear, I don’t usually do this, I just… I…”
“You what?” he snapped.
“Sorry, I…” you trailed off again. “Kinda out of it right now, and you’re so… that light’s really bright…” you complained as you squinted at the streetlight behind him.
He grabbed your face suddenly, forcing you to look up at him; you couldn’t believe how he could basically hold your entire face— and control your entire body— with one hand. He used his thumb and pointer finger to hold one of your eyes open wider; you winced and tried to move away, but he managed to get a decent enough look anyways.
“Are you fucking high?” he realized with a snarl.
“I— just one pill,” you whimpered.
“What was it?”
“I… I don’t know for sure…”
“Jesus,” he sneered, dropping your face and crossing his arms. He looked away from you, shaking his head, then put his hands on his hips in that disapproving way he did so well. “What were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I just never get to do anything fun— don’t you need to be wild sometimes, do something a little misguided?”
“A little misguided— taking drugs from strangers, from men, letting them… touch you like that…” he shuddered as he said the last part.
You gulped, looking down at the ground. You were kind of hoping he hadn’t seen that, somehow…
Grabbing you by the arm again, he all but threw you in his truck; shrinking in the seat, feeling quite shy despite how you’d been acting just a few minutes ago, you watched him walk around the back in the mirror so he could get in the driver’s side.
There was silence as he started the truck and put an arm around your seat to back out of the alley, silence as he started to drive, silence as you went back and forth between looking over at him sheepishly and staring down at your hands in your lap.
But when you looked out the window at the passing scenery, you narrowed your eyes. "You're…not taking me home?" you realized.
"And give your dad a fuckin' heart attack, you coming home at this hour— dressed like that?"
Your heart sank with guilt.
"No, I'll figure out what to do with you later,” he decided. “I'm guessing you snuck out?"
"I… told him I was staying with a friend…"
"Then he must not be expecting you until morning. You can stay at my place."
"Thank you, Tio, I swear I don't usually do this, thank you so much—"
"Hey. I didn't say I wasn't gonna tell him the truth when I bring you back tomorrow."
You swallowed, glancing out the window as your eyes stung.
~
He sighed as he shut the door, and you sheepishly crossed one arm over your stomach to hold your elbow.
Last time you were in his apartment, it was for some dinner… thing… anyways, your parents were there, as were a bunch of other people they worked with, and you were sure the whole thing would be incredibly fucking boring. It was, for a while, until Javi broke away from the others to talk to you— and he made you laugh, he spared you all the dumb questions about how college was going and talked to you about real stuff: music, dreams, life. You always felt like you could talk to him about the things you could never talk to your parents about…
But you didn’t want to talk to him about this. Especially not when he put his hands on his hips and gave you that stern glare.
“What the hell did you think you were doin’ in a place like that—?” he began but you interrupted with a sigh.
“I’m sorry— I just needed a- a release! You know?” you tried to justify.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes before he glanced away from you; you, meanwhile, looked down with shame. You never expected to feel so guilty for this— if anything, part of you had fantasized about your dad finding out just so you could tell him off in the argument, explain to him that it was his overbearing nature that drove you to something so risque. Of course, now that the likelihood of that argument actually occurring had skyrocketed, it didn’t sound so appealing. “Your dad’s gonna have a cow,” Javi warned you.
“I know! I know,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands for a second. “But I’m an adult! I should be able to do what I want!”
He scoffed a bit, and you frowned defensively. He obviously resented those times you referred to yourself as an adult— even if he couldn’t deny it, he always acted like it didn’t really count. You weren’t a ‘real adult’ yet in his eyes, still being in college and a bit starry-eyed according to some, and that always bothered you. It’s not that you thought you really had it all figured it out at this age, it’s just that you wanted more respect and more acknowledgement of your efforts.
The look on Javi’s face made you pretty confident you wouldn’t be getting much of that tonight. "Just don't tell him, okay? Please, Tio…"
"I won't tell your old man what you're up to," he promised, and you sighed. "But you need to."
"I— I can't," you whimpered, "he'll lose his shit! You know how protective he is…"
"Clearly he's got a good reason!" Javi snapped, and you spun around— you couldn't look at him now, not after he saw you like that.
"He's gonna kill me," you whimpered, defeated.
He stepped up behind you, wrapping one arm over your chest and holding your shoulder. “S’gonna be okay, sweetie…” he mumbled to you. “He’s not gonna kill you— he loves you."
"But he thinks I'm still a little kid," you explained with a pout.
"He can't help that," Javi laughed softly, kissing the side of your head. "You're grown up now, but you're still his little girl…"
You smiled a bit. "You really think I'm grown up?" you asked weakly.
"Yeah," he assured, "not sure how it happened, but you are— still young, of course."
You laughed a bit, relaxing in his embrace, soothed by the familiar smell of his aftershave and his strong hand rubbing your shoulder. Without either of you saying anything, the air somehow shifted… perhaps because of the way he moved his head, and you could tell that he was looking down at you. Perhaps because he let out a long sigh through his nose that fanned over the top of your head.
His voice was as low as a whisper when he spoke again. "Can't believe how grown up you look dressed like that…"
The fingers of his free hand traced over your thigh, even starting to move inwards, and out of both nervousness and ticklishness you clamped your legs together.
"Aww, don't be shy now," he pouted. "You'll be a whore for all those guys but you're playing innocent with me? Don't even try it, baby, I know what you want…"
You sighed out a long, shaky breath as you relaxed your legs so he could reach between them. It didn't really feel real, especially when you shut your eyes— then it could be anyone touching you.
"I know what this sweet little body needs," he continued, almost whispering as he spoke in your ear, making it impossible to forget it was Javi behind you. "Those little boys can't take care of you… need a real man to treat you right."
"Tio," you gasped as one finger just barely brushed over your panties, "d-don't—"
"Don't what, sweetie?"
"Don't… touch me like that," you breathed. "It's wrong…"
"But you like it so much," he noticed with a smile right beside your ear. "You like the way Uncle Javi is touching you— you like all this attention from your Tio, huh?"
Too afraid to respond to that, you shut your eyes tight as you felt him rub you through your panties more firmly, pulling up the bottom of your dress enough to expose the white cotton covering you.
“Still a good girl underneath your slutty outfit,” he smirked.
“What— what are you do—?” you began to breathe out, until he ran the blunt edge of his fingernail over the seam of your lips through the fabric— when he traced over your clit, your whole body jolted.
“Oh, babygirl,” he cooed, “you know what I’m doing. Say it.”
“You’re… touching me…” you panted out, rocking your hips as he began to rub slow circles against your panties— each with more pressure than the last.
“Where?” he prompted, his voice rough and echoing against the curve of your neck, which he began to kiss passionately a moment later just to make it that much harder for you to speak.
“My… fuck, my pussy!” you managed to get out, and he groaned with pride as his teeth brushed against your pulse.
He suddenly let you go and spun you around, pressing you to the wall and then pressing himself to you in turn. The hard bulge against your hip made your walls throb, but his face made your heart drop— you couldn’t forget it was him, and it felt so fucked up knowing he had just done that to you. You opened your mouth to tell him this couldn’t happen, that it had already gone too far, that you needed to somehow forget this ever happened.
But no words came out; they couldn’t, when he delicately lifted your chin so you had to stare right at the darkness in his eyes.
He moved closer, closer, until instinct forced your hands to jump up to his chest— god his chest, it was so firm and tanned and you swore you could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt— and stopped him from kissing you. “What’s the matter?” he asked softly.
What kind of dumbass question was that?! What’s the matter? Your Tio Javi, your dad’s best friend since forever, the guy who bought you your first bike and taught you how to whistle— that guy, calling you a whore and kissing your neck and touching you down there?! God, you knew you were messed up over this because you were mentally referring to your equipment as down there, like you were a little kid again.
But by god, you were not a little kid. Clearly, he knew that better than you thought he did. But you couldn’t believe this was really happening— it felt like a dream, but too terribly real.
What’s the matter, he asks, like you couldn’t spend all night listing everything wrong about this. You only gave him one reason aloud, though: “My dad will kill me.”
He smirked, a short laugh coming more out of his nose than his mouth. “Only if he finds out,” he replied. “Are you gonna tell on me, niña?”
Though very little, you shook your head.
“Are you gonna tell him that I brought you here and touched you like that?” he continued, voice lower and rougher, fingers dancing over your hip again. “Are you gonna tell your daddy how you got on your knees for me, let me fuck you like a whore, creamed on my cock over… and over…”
You shuddered as he left the softest trail of kisses up your neck.
“...and screamed my name until you lost your voice?”
"Fuck," you sighed, melting into his arms as he held you at your waist— his hands were so big that you felt especially delicate when he held you. "Javi, we… we shouldn't…"
"But you want to so bad, sweetie," he noticed with a fake pout. "You're a half-second from begging me to teach you how grown-ups fuck, I can tell."
Your thighs clenched together and he smirked.
"Just kiss me," he encouraged softly, lifting your chin with his fingers. "Just kiss me, baby, and I'll show you. I'll give you whatever you want."
You hesitated, looking up at his warm brown eyes, admiring his face and lingering over his lips… they did look perfectly kissable…
Shutting your eyes, you leaned forward and kissed him; instantly, he turned it from an innocent peck to a hungry gnashing of lips and teeth, his tongue dominating your mouth and muffling your moans.
His hands ran all over you and he started to guide you to walk with him— he turned you both and walked backwards down the hallway, dragging you until you toppled into his bed together.
"Lay back, baby," he instructed as he climbed over you, "your Tio's gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetie… gonna fuck you like you need, I promise."
He sat up, almost making you want to chase for more of that kiss, but he reached up under your dress and pulled your soaked panties down your legs.
"Oh my god, look at this cute little pussy," he purred, spreading your lips apart and tracing up the seam of your cunt to find your bud. He traced it gently with his thumb— even the softest, slowest circles over it made you shiver and whine. "Sensitive, too. Poor baby, need me that bad?"
He crouched down lower, and you whimpered with anticipation. "Javi…" you mumbled nervously.
Before he even put his mouth on you, he leaned in close and took a deep breath through his nose. "Smells fuckin' perfect," he grunted, and you moaned just because he said that. "Can't wait to taste you, niña, been waiting too long…"
You wanted to ask if he'd been waiting longer than just tonight, but you were distracted by the wet, sloppy kiss he gave you, right on your aching clit. Instantly your back arched and your mouth fell open into a silent scream.
He was painfully, infuriatingly good at this— like second nature, he just looked up at you and watched while his tongue traced your clit exactly how you needed. You could just tell he did this all the time, that he had made his fair share of women scream and sob and beg with that tongue; you writhed and whimpered, shutting your eyes tight so you wouldn't have to see him looking up at you anymore.
He devoured you with wide, hungry licks, his mouth overwhelming you and his nose poking at the apex of your mound. You could feel his long sigh fan over your sensitive skin when he kept his mouth wide open, lapping at you desperately; you’d never seen him this… lacking in composure. This animalistic. It made you feel hot all over.
Maybe the only thing more embarrassing than how quickly you barrelled towards your peak was how easily he recognized it.
"Wanna come, baby?"
He only broke away from you just long enough to groan it out, and then he was right back to making you squirm and sob. "Yes, fuck, please!"
"Beg," he ordered, muffled by your clit in his mouth, eating away at you mercilessly.
"Fuck, Javi— please make me come with your— with your tongue, I— I've never come from that before, fuck it feels really good… please…"
He hummed around you, suckling harder at your throbbing bud.
"Oh— f-fuck, I wanna— please," you choked, "I'm so close…"
You felt him smile, and then you felt him do this thing with his tongue that made your thighs quiver around his head.
"Please, can I?" you whimpered.
He pulled away, but you could still feel his breath fanning over you and it made your walls tense up. "I like you asking for permission," he praised, "do it again."
"Please let me come," you groaned, arching your back when he latched onto you again. "I'm so close, just don't stop, please don't fucking stop—"
He didn't, which you took as permission— not that it really mattered since it was inevitable now with or without his blessing— and you shut your eyes tight as the electric feeling danced all over your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you only caught one more glimpse of him staring up at you with a scalding heat in his eyes.
Instantly it became too much, the sensations his tongue delivered to your clit painfully forcing your whole body to spasm. Gasping, you grabbed at his hair and sputtered out: “Stop, stopstopstop—”
He broke away and dropped your hips back down onto the bed, his smile glistening with your come. An instant later he sat up to start opening his belt, that grin turning suddenly into a snarl. You looked up at him with wide eyes, still trying to catch your breath, dizzy even as you just laid there watching him lick your wetness off his lips. “Need to fuck you,” he said, simple as that.
You still couldn’t really believe this was happening; the effects of the pill were mostly faded, but this felt like some bizarre dream anyways. Seeing him like this was just beyond surreal.
“Flip over— hands and knees,” he instructed firmly while he unbuttoned his jeans. You wanted to remind him that this was insanely wrong, that you thought of him like family and thought he saw you the same way— but then you remembered that what you’d done tonight was wrong too, and that he was your only hope of getting away with it and avoiding being locked in your room for the rest of your life.
"Shouldn't you… shouldn't we use a condom?" you suggested softly, and he smirked a little.
"We don't need that," he assured.
Doing as you were told, though it took some effort on shaky legs, you stared down at Javi’s bed under you— you’d seen it before, even slept in it before (though when that happened, he always took the couch), but it felt incredibly different now.
Speaking of things that felt incredibly different: getting fucked by your tio. He held your hips and pushed his cock into you, and you whimpered loudly as the stretch challenged you right from the start. You heard a soft moan from behind you, a needier sound than you expected from him, but it was drowned out quickly by your own cry as he buried himself in you completely. “Mm,” he hummed, fingers digging deeper into the plush of your ass as he stayed still for just a moment. “That’s good…”
Shivering, even though you were hot enough to sweat, you hid your face with a quiet whine right as he started to thrust— with a lot less patience than you expected.
"You're not embarrassed, are you?" he wondered, petting the back of your head as if trying to coax you out of the pillows. "Actin' all shy… what have you got to be shy about? Getting fucked on all fours like a slut, the fuck you acting innocent for now?"
"Please just slow down—" you gasped, reaching back behind yourself to try to grab his thigh.
"Hell fucking no, this is what you wanted," he groaned.
Whining, tears stung your eyes and you just tried to hold onto the bunches of his sheets in your fists.
"Wanted me for a while, didn't you? Dressing up all sexy when I came over for dinner, showing off how much you've grown… didn't even wear a bra, I could see your tits getting hard, wondered if it was because you were turned on. Turned on by your Tio…"
You weren't blind, you knew Javier was attractive, and you knew he did well with women— but you honest to God never thought about him like that. He was just your Tio Javi.
And now he was pushing you down between your shoulder blades to shove your face into the bed. Whimpering, you gave in, but the angle forced his cock even deeper and made you arch your back up with a yelp. "Shh shh, no baby, need to take it all," he scolded you softly as he pushed your back down. "Need to keep that ass up for me— show Tio that ass, good girl…"
It was hard to stay like this when it meant letting his cock hit way too deep— it hurt, and you sobbed with every thrust. "Please, s'too much, I need a break—"
"A break? We just started," he laughed. "You can get a break after I come, but you're gonna be in this bed all night showin' me why I should keep your secret."
"God, you're just so deep," you whined, "it hurts…"
"Yeah, but it feels good too, doesn't it?"
Even though you somehow felt guilty, you nodded.
"Yeah," he encouraged again, "you like getting fucked like this, baby. Never had your whole pussy used? Never had a cock this deep?"
So deep that it shot up your spine and made the back of your eyes burn? No, you'd never felt this before; you sobbed with pleasure, already totally overwhelmed.
He grunted as he increased his pace, already picking up speed each time his hips collided with yours; the bed was creaking a bit, too.
"Fuck," you gasped, toes curling. His cock’s fat head was pressing into something so painfully deep inside you, and just as much as it made you want to beg him to give you a little mercy, it made you feel like screaming for more and praying this could never end.
You heard him grunt as he fucked you even faster; he must have heard you sniffling, in turn, tears falling from your eyes near-silently as the pleasure overwhelmed your body. "What are you crying for? Never had a big dick like this, huh?" he chuckled. "Then just say so."
"I never… I-I've never had a… a dick this big before…"
"Mm," he hummed with approval, grabbing a handful of your ass and tilting his head so he could get a better view of his cock plunging into your hole. "Never been stretched out like this? That's too bad, I can tell you fuckin' needed it. Went out tonight cause you needed some dick, huh? Well you got more than you bargained for, honey, it's too much for this little pussy isn't it?"
"Yes!" you sobbed.
"Can't take all this?"
"Yes, Tio, please—"
"Don't tell me to slow down again," he warned. “I know what you need, sweetie.”
He grabbed you by your hair and forced your head back. "Ow!" you yelped instinctively. "Fuck, Javi!"
"Act like a slut and you're gonna get fucked like one," he reminded you, a frustrated sigh falling from his mouth. His pace quickened once more, thrusts coming faster until the sound of his hips and thighs smacking against your ass filled the room.
"I'm sorry," you choked, "I'm sorry, okay?"
"For what?"
"D-doing drugs," you listed, "going to clubs— acting like a s-slut…"
"Fuck," he grunted, "it's okay, baby, I'm gonna— god— gonna make it all better… gonna teach you how to be my good girl, okay?”
You whimpered as you nodded. “Please…”
Another tug on your hair made you whine and arch your back, letting yourself go a bit more limp in his grip as each thrust rocked your body. “First,” he began, “you need some discipline.”
The hand on your hip let go to give you a sudden spank on your ass; you yelped and jolted, the pain somehow only adding to your pleasure a second after the initial sting had faded.
“Your daddy never gave you enough of that— discipline,” Javi chuckled, “I warned him he was gonna spoil you. Guess I was right, look at you now?”
He smacked your ass again, hard enough that you cried loudly— probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear. That thought made your face burn with embarrassment. Anyone who shared a wall with Javi had probably heard his bed partners before, heard women screaming his name— why did that thought make you feel sick and sad and empty?
Of course, you were anything but empty, you were full to the brim and it felt like he might split you in half each time he pressed his hips to yours. “Once you get some discipline,” he continued, “you need to start doin’ what you’re told.”
“Y-yes, sir,” you choked out. You almost screamed when the hand that had been holding your hip slipped down to search between your legs; he grunted a bit as he roughly found your clit and rubbed it in fast circles.
“Then you need to learn some manners,” he continued, “like sayin’ thank you when I touch this pretty pussy for you.”
“Thank you,” you blurted out, your voice hoarse and wobbly— even weaker than you felt. Your hips were instinctively trying to buck away, running from the amount of raw sensation forced upon you, but you were trapped by the strength of his arm.
All at once it all changed: he slowed his pace, though he went just as deep if not deeper with each movement; he leaned down and pressed his chest to your bare and sweaty back, putting his lips against your ear; he kept touching your clit, but the circles were slower, smoother… sweeter. “S’that better, sweetie?” he whispered roughly. “Is that how you need it?”
Biting your quivering lip, you nodded; you fought another wave of tears that burned at the back of your eyes, but you were less embarrassed to cry now than you thought you would be. You’d cried in front of Javi before, plenty of times— skinned knees, dumb boyfriends, failed tests, he’d been around for plenty of that. Obviously, this was much more vulnerable than anything that had come before, and yet it felt bizarrely natural… he pulled out this side of you so easily, a side you didn’t even know existed.
“Such a good girl,” he cooed at you gently, kissing the curve of your jaw, and you finally stopped trying to stop yourself from shaking (it wasn’t working anyways). “So good for me…”
Everything was so blurry now, you barely even noticed him guiding you to lay down and roll over: you just noticed him pulling out, and pouted a little as if you actually thought he might just stop completely for no reason.
Noticing your displeasure, he smirked proudly. "Just wanna see that pretty face, sweetie," he soothed. But when he pushed back in, the new position made everything feel new— and, somehow, even more perfect.
"Fuck, Javi, s'really deep…" you mumbled, though it was deep in a different way than before— not as painful, yet even more mind-numbing.
"Uh huh?" he taunted. "Never had somebody fuck you right, baby?”
You shook your head. You had no idea it could be like this— you thought it was normal not to come, for the guy to jackhammer for a few minutes and leave. You didn't even know you could make noises like this…
"Say it again," he encouraged with a moan, watching your face intently.
"It's really… really deep…" you breathed, legs shaking as he held your hips down and tried to get even deeper; he started to grind up against you to force every last millimeter inside, roughly rubbing his pubic bone on your sore clit.
You squealed, barely able to take all this sensation, and he flared his nostrils. "What's really deep?"
"Your cock," you clarified.
"Whose cock?" he taunted.
"Yours, Javi, fuck! Stop asking me questions when I can barely fucking think!" you whined, and he laughed as he returned to his original motions.
“Just one more,” he promised. “Gonna come for me, niña?”
“Yes, yes,” you admitted through a choked sob.
He leaned down, blanketing his body over yours. "Call me Tio when I make you come," he whispered his demand in your ear, and you shuddered.
Each thrust was faster than the last, harder too, and you sobbed as heavy pulses of pleasure took control of your body. "I'm so close, I'm so fucking close," you panted, unable to speak above a whisper.
"I know, I know," he soothed, kissing your face with more tenderness than you expected or felt you deserved.
"I— please—"
"Shh, you're doing so good…"
It all collapsed at once. "I'm— fuck, I'm coming! Tio, I'm coming!"
He growled and latched his lips onto your neck, fucking you through it; your pussy pulsed in an erratic pattern, a new slickness coating him and running down your thighs. You would've been self-conscious about staining his bed if you had any room in your brain for it— but you couldn't think about anything, you even forgot to breathe for a couple seconds. "Good girl," he groaned, "coming nice and hard for me. Good fucking girl."
Suddenly, your arms wrapped around his shoulders— his broad, heavy shoulders, barely damp with sweat— and your shaking fingers dug into his skin. You hugged him tightly, maybe to keep yourself grounded as convulsions rocked through you, maybe for a little comfort through such an excruciatingly ecstatic sort of feeling.
When it all seemed to gather right in your gut, it finally slowed down and you went all but limp under him— though your arms stayed draped over his neck.
"Fuck, Javi," you moaned lowly, his thrusts faster and less even as he looked down at you with an exhausted smile of his own.
"Fuck, I wanted to make you come again," he admitted, "but I can't last much longer— you're too fuckin' tight, baby, little pussy's too fuckin' good, gonna make me come…"
"Please," you whined, partially out of submission and acceptance of your desire to make him come, partially out of excitement for a chance to breathe after he finished.
"Gonna come inside you," he warned suddenly, and you gasped.
"Wait, pull out," you pleaded, a small bit of your sanity coming back as the height of your pleasure had passed, "come on my face o-or something…"
He grinned when you said that, and you sort of regretted it. "That's cute," he decided, "but I wanna fill this pussy— see you nice and stuffed with my come— and I know you want that too, baby…"
You whined, hating how right he was, but you panted as you tried not to let the pleasure completely override your logical reasoning. "But I'm not— I don't—"
"I'll get you a pill in the morning," he promised, his voice rough and needy as he fucked you even faster— he hissed in his breaths through his teeth, almost snarling at you. "Fuck, I'm so close— tell me who owns this pussy now, princess."
"Yours, Javi, it's yours," you sobbed, hating how true that really was. "Yours to fill— you can come inside me, Tio, nobody's ever…"
You didn't even finish the thought, and he moaned as his grip on your hip tightened. He seemed pleased by the fact that you'd never been creampied before, even more excited to empty himself into you. "Beg," he ordered.
"I— I want you to come," you blurted out, not really sure what you were doing and struggling to put a thought together anyways. "Please, I want… want it inside—"
"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck," he rushed, and a moment later he stopped as deep as he could go, letting you feel every pulse as he filled you.
You gasped, almost wanting to squirm away out of instinct and try to stop him from filling you, but he held you down and kept you helpless.
"God, yes," he moaned in a breath, grunting as he started to grind his hips on yours to get himself that slightest fraction of an inch deeper.
He let his weight relax onto you and though it made it tricky to breathe, you just accepted it, finally shutting your exhausted eyes.
You were probably more than half of the way to sleep when he brought you back to reality by carefully rolling off of you; you winced as he pulled out, first from the soreness and then from the gush of sticky heat you felt coming out a moment later…
Javi stayed on his side, propped up on one bent elbow, and looked down at what you could only assume was a completely gaping pussy— and all his come leaking out.
He swiped two fingers through the mess he'd made, letting them linger on your throbbing clit until your hips jolted away; smiling, he brought the fingers to his lips and tasted his own come from your hole. "Fuck, Javi," you sighed, taken aback by the erotic, sudden gesture.
"You wanna taste too, princess?" he smirked, moving his fingers back to your pussy— but this time he didn't just scoop up what was leaking out. No, he suddenly slid two fingers into your incredibly sore cunt, making you wince from the sting and watching your face carefully with a sigh.
When he pulled his fingers out, after twisting them around inside you for a moment, they were coated in both of you. His free hand held your chin and tilted your mouth how he wanted it, guiding you to take both his fingers onto your tongue.
"Lick it off— good girl, like that…"
His praise made your exhausted walls clench just one more time.
"Taste how good we are together, baby?" he cooed. "You did so good for me… I haven't come like that in a long time."
I haven't come like that ever, you wanted to reply, but your mouth was full. When his fingers were cleaned off, he laid down beside you and wrapped you up in his arms. The strangeness of it hit you again: you, him, naked in bed… you still couldn't quite believe it was real.
"How much sleep do you need before you can go again?"
You widened your eyes and looked at him, amazed to see that he clearly wasn't joking. "Again? Javi, I'm gonna be sore for weeks already—"
"You're young, you can bounce right back," he promised, "I bet in a couple hours your pussy's gonna be even tighter than it was when we started."
You bit your lip. "I guess I can— I mean, maybe one more time, if you let me sleep a little first…"
He smiled and kissed your head, making you sigh and hide your face in his neck. He smelled the same, that's what was so weird— he smelled like he always had, the same aftershave as you remembered from all those years ago, and now you were naked and sore and used. "Okay, sweetie, get some sleep," he offered. "I'll wake you up when I'm ready to give you another load— I bet you're gonna like the way I wake you up, too."
As he chuckled lowly, kissing your neck right by your ear, you shut your eyes and tried to ignore how bizarre this was so you could rest.
His fingers gently tickled your thigh, tracing random shapes that left goosebumps behind, and whispered praises in your ear to lull you to sleep. "That's my good girl," his low, gentle voice blended in with the growing darkness of slumber.
Even mostly asleep and exhausted like you'd never been before, you got the sense that being his good girl was on ordeal that lasted more than just one night. In fact, you hoped it did.
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littlelamy · 23 days
Text
toxic!rafe x reader
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a/n: this reminds me of s1 rafe so much :) enjoy!!
you step out of the fitting room, with the dim lighting casting a warm glow over your skin. the lingerie clings to your curves, the delicate lace hugging you in all the right places. rafe is seated on a plush armchair, his posture relaxed, but the intensity of his gaze gives him away. he’s been waiting for this moment, and you can feel the weight of his stare as you approach him.
rafe’s blue eyes are dark, stormy, as they travel over your body, lingering on every exposed inch of skin. there’s a tension in the air, thick and heavy, as if the entire room is holding its breath, waiting for him to speak. you know rafe well enough to know that silence isn’t a good sign—it means he’s thinking, calculating, deciding how far he can push you this time.
as he gets up, you feel his hands on your waist as he spins you, his touch both possessive and rough. it’s a stark contrast to the softness of the lace, a reminder that no matter how delicate you may look right now, you’re his, and he won’t let you forget it.
“mhm, I like this one,” he murmurs, his voice laced with something darker, something that makes your heart pound in your chest. “but you know what, babe? i think you like it because you know it drives me crazy.”
you glance over your shoulder at him, and the look in his eyes makes your breath catch. there’s a dangerous edge to his gaze, a mix of desire and something more intense, more possessive. It’s the way he’s always been with you—intense, overwhelming, like a storm you can’t escape. but beneath it all, you know he loves you, even if his love is twisted, tangled up with his need to control.
“do you like driving me crazy?” he asks, his voice soft, but you can hear the teasing beneath it. he’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll play along or push back. and the truth is, you’re not sure which one he wants.
“i like wearing things that make me feel good,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady, but you can see the way his eyes narrow, his jaw tightening.
his grip on your waist tightens, pulling you back against his chest, his breath hot against your ear. “you feel good because you know I’m looking, because you know I want you,” he growls, his lips brushing against your neck. “don’t pretend like it’s just for you. you and I both know better.”
his words send a jolt of electricity and desire through you, the raw intensity of his hunger both thrilling and terrifying. rafe has always been like this, walking the fine line between love and obsession, and sometimes you wonder if he even knows the difference.
“rafe, I—” you start, but he cuts you off, turning you around to face him. his hands grip your hips in a rough but gentle way, making your knees weak.
“no,” he says, his voice cold, but his eyes burn with heat. “you don’t get to play games with me, not when you look like that. you know what you’re doing, and i won’t let you act like you don’t.”
you swallow hard, the intensity of his gaze almost too much to bear. there’s a part of you that wants to push back, to remind him that you’re your own person, but there’s another part—a darker part—that craves and yearns his possessiveness, that feels satisfied when he claims you so completely.
“i didn’t mean to—” you begin, but again, he cuts you off, his grip tightening just enough to make you feel it, to remind you who’s in control here.
“don’t,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous. “you know exactly what you’re doing, and so do I. you’re mine, and don’t you ever forget it.”
the words hang in the air between you, heavy and charged, and you can feel the tension crackling like a live wire. rafe’s eyes soften slightly, and he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s both possessive and tender, as if he’s trying to convey all the things he can’t say out loud.
when he pulls back, there’s a softness in his gaze that’s almost startling. “i just… i can’t stand the thought of anyone else seeing you like this,” he admits, his voice a low rumble. “you’re too beautiful, too perfect, too sexy. i can’t lose you, do you understand?”
you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. you know that beneath the harsh exterior, rafe’s love for you is real, even if it’s wrapped up in his need to control. and in moments like this, when his walls come down just enough for you to see the vulnerability underneath, you can’t help but forgive him, even though you know you probably shouldn’t.
“i understand,” you whisper, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. “im not going anywhere, rafe.”
he closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch, and you can feel the tension slowly going away. when he opens his eyes again, they’re filled with a softness, and you know that no matter how toxic his love might be, it’s still love—and in his own way, he’s trying to protect you, even if it’s from himself.
“good,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “because you’re mine, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”
and as he pulls you into his arms, holding you close, you realize that as twisted as it might be, there’s something intoxicating about being loved by someone like rafe—someone who’s willing to fight for you, even if the battle is against his own demons.
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froggiewrites · 1 month
Text
Did I Say That Out Loud?
Pairing: Ace x Reader
SFW
Summary: You and Ace get lost in a snowstorm. While Ace is fine in the cold, you need warming up, and he's willing to help. Warnings: Fluff, Huddling for Warmth, Accidental Confession Word Count: 1.2k Notes: This is a short thing I wrote to break myself out of a funk I got into with a different, longer piece. I just had to write about Ace huddling for warmth, he's perfect for it! Crossposted from Ao3
There are few things you can rely on in the Grand Line. There’s danger around every corner, both from the environment and the pirates filling every inch of it. There’s few people you trust, and fewer who deserve it. But up until now, you would have said you trusted Portgas D. Ace with every fiber of your being.
And then he got you lost.
“I could have sworn it was around here.” You have no idea where here even is, your vision filled with nothing but white as the snow continues to fall. You’d always trusted his directions, knowing his survival skills were finely honed from his childhood, but you’re suddenly reminded he grew up in a jungle nothing at all like the snow capped peaks of the mountain you’re currently stuck on. He’s scratching his head, checking a map that looks absolutely nothing like the terrain around you.
“Ace.” You try to keep the anger out of your voice, but with the way his shoulders tense you can see you failed. “Do you have any idea where we are right now?”
“Um.” He looks back at you, puppy dog eyes wide and asking for forgiveness. “We’re on the mountain?”
“Oh my god.” You put your head in your hands, which are rapidly losing feeling from the cold. Your gloves are not thick enough for the temperature right now, the gentle snow from when you docked slowly growing closer and closer to a blizzard. “We’re gonna die.”
“We’re not gonna die.” You feel a warm hand on your head, grounding you and pulling you from the panicking bubbling in your chest. “We brought food and water, we’re gonna find shelter, and we’ll wait out the storm. It shouldn’t last long.”
“How do you know that?” You peek up at him through your lashes, and see nothing but his smile, soft and reassuring.
“A storm like this shouldn’t last longer than a day at most.” He sees the panic on your face again, and he continues. “I know a day sounds like a long time, but we have enough supplies for at least a few, if we ration, and we passed a cave on the way here that seemed pretty protected from the elements. We’ll really be fine, I promise.” He gives you that boyish smile that makes his face light up like the sun, the one that always makes your heart race.
You nod at him tiredly. The hand on your head shifts to fall around your shoulders easily and effortlessly, and he pulls you under his arm for a quick side hug. You expect him to pull back, but you see his brows furrow as he pulls you closer. “You’re freezing.” His free hand grabs one of yours and he hisses slightly at the feeling of your ice cold fingers. “Oh god, you’re really freezing. Let’s hurry.” His hands warm further, the heat seeping through your thin gloves and inadequate coat, and he begins to pull you forward in the snow.
You find the cave relatively quickly, thankfully, and Ace quickly makes a small fire for you two. He looks especially beautiful in firelight, like he was born for it. You don’t often get to admire him like that, usually only seeing him bathed in flame in battle, but in this peaceful moment you finally get to take your time memorizing his face in the gentle orange light. His freckles look particularly charming like this, and you suddenly have the urge to kiss them.
The cold must be getting to you. Another shiver racks your body, and you realize that it really is, your lips feeling numb and the cold floor beneath you doing nothing to help the situation. You wonder how long it would take for someone to die of exposure. 
“You alright over there?” He gives an easy smile, but you can see the tension behind it. He’s genuinely concerned.
“I’ve been better.” You struggle to speak over the chattering of your teeth. He seems entirely unbothered by the cold, of course, with his powers, though he’s still wearing a thick black coat just for the sake of it. His face is painted with concern as he approaches you, nose scrunched adorably in thought, but you see his eyes light up with an idea. He reaches you, settling close, before he begins unbuttoning his coat and revealing his bare torso.
“Ah–um–Ace?” He slips his coat off, and you’re torn between admiring his physique and worrying about him catching a cold, no matter how impossible you know that is. He doesn’t acknowledge your confusion and concern, instead wrapping his coat tightly around you, engulfing you in his scent.
“Are you still cold?” He leans closer, and you can barely focus on his words over the smoky scent of his coat.
“Um, a little?” It comes out as a question.
“Hm.” He puffs out his cheeks a little in displeasure. “Well. I have one more idea.” Without any warning, he abruptly pulls you into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around you as your frantically adjust to keep your head from pressing directly between his pecs. You end up with your thighs on either side of his hips, your hands on his chest, your noses brushing together.
“Is that any better?” He’s staring intently into your eyes as he asks. You can feel his breath on your face, feel his heartbeat beneath your hands, see every freckle painted across his face.
God, what I wouldn’t give for you to kiss me right now.
“What?”
Oh.
Oh no.
“I–” You try to push away in panic, but his arms keep you in place.
“Do you mean that?” His breath is against your lips, so hot compared to the chill around you.
You want to tell him no, to insist he misheard you, salvage some of your dignity, but then you register the intensity of his eyes as something you weren’t expecting: hope.
“Yes.”
His lips crash against yours as he pulls you impossibly closer, the heat radiating off of him seeping into you down to your very bones. His strong hands come to rest on your hips, and your hands wander up to tangle in his raven hair. You can hardly feel the icy cold anymore, can hardly feel anything but Ace pressed against you and his soft lips on yours. He nips lightly at your bottom lip, and you easily part to allow his tongue to explore.
His hands begin to wander up your back, under your shirt, and you feel your skin heat beneath his touch. You can’t tell if he’s using his devil fruit or if it’s simply the chemistry between you, but either way you feel warm and safe. You’d stay like this forever if you could.
Eventually you’re forced to part for air, panting, and he gives you a cheeky smile. “Are you warmer now?”
“Hmm…” You trace your fingers down his chest, trying not to grin too widely when he shivers. “I think I’m still a bit chilly, actually.”
“Want some help with that?” He’s smiling so wide the edges of his eyes are crinking with joy.
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
His lips meet yours once again, and you completely forget about the storm raging outside.
517 notes · View notes
ama0310 · 2 months
Text
Bubblegum Bitch
Character: Aaron Hotchner
Requested: No
Type: Song Fic, Angst/Fluff
Summary: Hotch never thought he'd fall in love again—until he met Y/N.
Author's Note: Based on Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA
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***************************
Meeting the Unit Chief should have been terrifying, but for you, it was exhilarating. Strauss had recently transferred you to the BAU from the Counter-Terrorism Division.
You suspected she added you to the team to ruffle the Unit Chief's feathers. It might have bothered you if it hadn’t come with a nice bump in your paycheck.
The moment Hotch saw you, he knew you were trouble. He just didn't realize how much trouble until your very first case.
Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all
You stood before the mirror in a dingy motel bathroom, applying the finishing touches to your makeup. The skin-tight leather mini dress hugged every curve, transforming you into the perfect bait for the unsub who had been terrorizing local nightclubs.
Hotch's reflection appeared behind you, his face etched with worry. "Y/L/N, I really don't think you're ready for this."
You turned, cocking an eyebrow as you placed your hands on your hips. "And why is that, sir?"
Hotch's response was immediate and brutally honest. "You're still new, never been face-to-face with an unsub, let alone undercover. You're reckless, difficult to control, and frankly, a loose cannon. Need I go on?"
I'll chew you up and I'll spit you out
A smirk played at your lips as you sauntered towards him, invading his personal space. The scent of your perfume mingled with the tension in the air. "Look, Hotchie," you purred, noting how he stiffened at the nickname, "I was transferred here for a reason. I know what this job entails. So be my boss and let me do it."
You could see the internal struggle playing out behind Hotch's eyes. His professional concern warred with something else – an attraction he was clearly trying to suppress. You were a walking danger sign, and part of him was drawn to that fire.
"First," he said, his voice low and controlled, "don't call me that. Second, I'm not trying to offend you. I simply think Emily might be better suited for this operation. You can take points next time."
You scoffed, taking a step back. "Next time? With all due respect, sir, I fit the victimology perfectly, and you know it. I've spent the last hour transforming myself into exactly what this creep is looking for. If I don't do this, he'll likely claim another victim before we can catch him. So again, Hotchie," you emphasized the nickname, watching him bristle, "let me do my job. Don't make me have to disobey orders."
Without waiting for a response, you slipped on your stilettos and brushed past him, the warmth of your body tantalizingly close for a moment before you were gone.
Hotch watched you go, a mix of admiration and trepidation swirling in his gut. You were brilliant, fearless, and undeniably effective. But you were also unpredictable, pushing boundaries at every turn. As he followed you out, preparing to oversee the operation, one thought echoed in his mind:
Definitely trouble.
Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored I'm the girl you'd die for
Over the past few months, you had become the team's radiant beacon of positivity, your presence a cure for the often-dark nature of their work. Even the usually stoic Hotch, though he'd never admit it aloud, had fallen under your spell.
It was impossible not to be drawn to your infectious energy. Each morning, you breezed into the bullpen, a whirlwind of warmth and enthusiasm. Your greetings were accompanied by compliments, tailored to brighten each team member's day. After particularly grueling cases, the aroma of your famous blueberry muffins would fill the office, a comforting reminder that there was still sweetness in the world. You even patiently endured Spencer's lengthy tangents, sparing the others from information overload.
As the team prepared to head out for a new case, you sprinted across the parking lot, your laughter echoing off the concrete walls. "Shotgun!" you called out triumphantly, playfully shoving past Spencer to claim the coveted front seat next to Hotch.
Your friendship with the young doctor had blossomed quickly, bonded by your shared status as the "kids" of the team. While the others sometimes found his endless stream of facts overwhelming, you delighted in his knowledge, often engaging him in spirited debates that left the rest of the team both amused and bewildered.
The unit chief's lips twitched, fighting back a smile as he watched your antics. Spencer, mock indignation coloring his voice, appealed to their leader. "Hotch, come on! She rode shotgun last time. It's my turn, isn't it?"
Hotch cleared his throat, his tone stern but his eyes betraying a hint of amusement. "Y/N, you know the rules. It is indeed Reid's turn to sit up front."
You turned to face Hotch, unleashing the full power of your most irresistible puppy dog eyes. Your lower lip jutted out ever so slightly as you pleaded silently. Behind you, Spencer let out a resigned sigh, already knowing he'd lost this battle. Your ability to wrap Hotch around your finger was legendary among the team, even if the man himself was loath to acknowledge it.
Hotch held your gaze for a moment, visibly wavering. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, he started the engine, tacitly allowing you to keep your place.
Victorious, you twisted in your seat to face Spencer, sticking out your tongue in a childish display of triumph.
"Y/N!" Hotch's voice held a note of warning, though it lacked any real heat.
You straightened immediately, your voice dripping with faux innocence. "Sorry, sir!"
The apology was hollow, and you both knew it. As Hotch pulled out of the parking lot, you caught the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Your sunny persona had once again melted the ice around the unit chief's heart.
Oh, dear diary, I met a boy He made my doll heart light up with joy
The realization hit you like a thunderbolt – you were hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Aaron Hotchner. For the first time in your life, you felt a fear that chilled you to your core.
How could someone like him ever reciprocate such feelings? The cons seemed endless: a decade age gap, your extroverted nature clashing with his stoicism, your wild spirit at odds with his controlled demeanor. Not to mention the professional boundary – you were his employee, AND  he was still navigating the aftermath of his recent divorce.
Your newfound awareness of your feelings for Hotch led to a desperate attempt at avoidance. It was hard, given how intertwined your lives had become over the months. For a week, you'd been dodging his texts, offering only cursory greetings, and maintaining a physical distance that felt painfully unnatural.
Hotch noticed the change immediately, and it gnawed at him. Your vibrant presence had become a constant in his life, a source of warmth he hadn't realized he'd come to depend on until it was suddenly gone.
He found himself missing the little rituals that had naturally developed between you. The morning car rides, once a practical solution to your car troubles, had evolved into a cherished start to each day. Your habit of bringing him a piece of candy during lunch breaks, with the excuse of "sweetening up his day," never failed to bring a smile to his face. Most of all, he missed the casual physical contact – the way you'd unconsciously place your hand on his arm when standing close, a gesture that grounded him more than he cared to admit.
As the week progressed, Hotch's concern deepened. Had he unknowingly offended you? He wracked his brain, trying to pinpoint any misstep. Perhaps the latest case had affected you more than usual, or maybe you were simply exhausted. Whatever the reason, he was determined to lift your spirits.
During his lunch break, Hotch made his way to your favorite café. The aroma of freshly baked goods enveloped him as he ordered your usual – a ham and cheese croissant and your preferred coffee blend. Back at the office, he noticed your empty desk and quickly left the bag before retreating to his office.
When you returned from the restroom, steeling yourself for an afternoon of paperwork, the sight of the familiar bag on your desk stopped you in your tracks. With trembling hands, you opened it to find the still-warm croissant and perfectly prepared coffee. Atop the container, a piece of candy was taped to a note that read: "To sweeten your day up! – Hotch"
Your heart swelled, a mix of joy and ache flooding your chest. Looking up, you caught Hotch watching you from his office window. Despite your best efforts to maintain distance, you couldn't help but offer him the radiant smile he'd come to cherish.
In that moment, the truth was undeniable. You were completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with Aaron Hotchner. As your eyes locked with his, a flicker of something – hope, perhaps? – passed between you, hinting that maybe, just maybe, these obstacles weren't quite so impossible after all.
Oh, dear diary, we fell apart Welcome to the life of Electra Heart
Aaron Hotchner never imagined falling in love after Haley left. His life revolved around his job and Jack. He didn't need anyone else. That is, until you entered his life.
You were the first to sense something was wrong when he didn't answer his phone. Racing to his apartment, you found it covered in blood. With Penelope's help, you tracked him to a hospital, learning he'd been stabbed nine times.
When he opened his eyes and saw you, Hotch thought he'd died and gone to heaven. You looked angelic - an angel he couldn't bear to see harmed.
So when George Foyet shot him in his own home, Hotch realized he needed to end whatever was blossoming between you before you got hurt.
But you made it difficult.
The moment he was released, you were there every day, before and after work. Groceries, cleaning, anything to ease his burden. You knew how hard it was for him to send Haley and Jack away, how alone he must feel. You were determined to show him the team - and you - were there for him. For anything.
Driving him home after the Darrin Call case, where he'd recklessly entered a house without backup, your anger finally boiled over.
"What the hell were you thinking, Aaron?" you demanded, following him into his apartment. "No gun, no vest, no backup. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
Hotch turned, his face a mask of stone. "I knew the profile. I had it under control."
"Under control?" you scoffed. "If it were anyone else, you'd have suspended them! This isn't you, Aaron. What's going on?"
His eyes flashed. "What's going on is I'm the Unit Chief, and I don't answer to you. I think before I act, unlike some people."
The barb stung. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," he said coldly. "Just find it ironic you're lecturing me on recklessness."
"I've never walked into a hostage situation alone and unarmed!" you countered.
"I don't have to explain myself," Hotch snapped. "Especially not to you. Get out."
Your eyes widened. "No. We're talking about this. You're spiraling, Aaron. This obsession with Foyet-"
"Stop. You have no idea what you're talking about."
"I know you're not alone in this!" you pleaded. "The team needs you. I need you."
Hotch laughed bitterly. "If you haven't noticed, I am alone. My son is gone. I have no one. And I won't rest until Foyet is dead."
Tears welled in your eyes. "You have us. You have me. We can figure this out together."
"There is no 'we,'" Hotch said, his voice cold and final. "There never was."
The words hit like a physical blow. "Don't say that. You know that's not true."
For a moment, his mask slipped, revealing the pain beneath. But then it was back, harder than ever. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."
You stared at him, hurt turning to anger. "Go to hell, Hotchner," you spat, before storming out, leaving him alone with the wreckage of what might have been.
I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips Hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss
Your relationship with Aaron had crumbled to dust. Since that night you stormed out of his apartment, you'd made it your mission to avoid him at all costs. Difficult, considering he was your boss.
You understood he was facing unimaginable challenges - the loss of his ex-wife, becoming a single parent. Part of you ached to support him, but you both needed space.
That space stretched into a year.
You'd left transfer papers on his desk days ago. Despite your love for the team, staying had become impossible. It wasn't fair to you or Hotch. Counter Terrorism Division beckoned - a fresh start.
You hadn't told the team yet, dreading their reactions. You'd become their wild, sassy, overdramatic little sister. But tonight wasn't about goodbyes. It was Spencer's birthday, and Derek had chosen a club to celebrate. You wouldn't miss it for the world.
Arriving in a hot pink mini dress and matching heels, you spotted the team immediately.
"Happy birthday, Boy Genius!" you exclaimed, hugging Spencer tight.
"Please," he whispered, "get me out of here. Derek's trying to set me up with his friend."
You laughed, ruffling his hair. "No can do, Spence. It's your night. Go crazy. I promise not to film anything too embarrassing."
Turning to greet the others, you froze. Hotch was there. You hugged everyone but him, pointedly avoiding his gaze.
"Damn, girl! You're on fire!" Penelope gushed, clearly tipsy.
Emily nodded appreciatively. "I'm borrowing those heels."
"You know how to make a girl feel special," you winked. "First round's on me!"
An hour later, you were dancing with Penelope and Spencer, the alcohol buzzing through your veins. Suddenly, Spencer spun you – right into Hotch's arms. You glared at Spencer, who mouthed 'Karma' with a smirk.
The tension was strong as you and Hotch swayed silently. You wanted to escape, yet craved his touch.
"You requested a transfer," he stated, his voice low.
You quirked an eyebrow. "Did you sign it?"
"No."
You pulled back, stunned. "What do you mean, no?"
"We need to talk first."
Anger flared. "You're unbelievable," you spat, pushing past him and out of the club. He followed close behind.
"Y/N, please-"
You whirled to face him. "There's nothing to say. It's been a year, Hotch. Whatever we had is dead."
"You don't mean that," he insisted, his eyes burning into yours.
The alcohol amplified your emotions. "I do. I'm over it. Over you. There's nothing left to talk about."
"Then I'll talk, and you listen," he said firmly, gripping your shoulders. "There was a 'we'. Everything I said that night – it was a lie. To keep you safe from Foyet. He was targeting everyone I loved. I couldn't risk losing you."
Your heart stuttered. "You... loved me?"
"I still do," he breathed, cupping your face. "This past year has been hell. Not having you by my side – our carpool chats, sneaking candy, just... you. It was torture. I'll do anything to earn your forgiveness."
You wanted to resist, to make him suffer longer. But the alcohol, the longing, the raw emotion in his voice – it was too much. You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.
You both exhaled, tension melting away. It felt right. It felt like coming home.
"I love you too," you murmured, then pulled back with a stern look. "But you've got a lot of making up to do."
He pressed his forehead to yours. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. You deserve the world, Y/N, and I intend to give it to you."
Your lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, full of promise and the weight of a year apart.
As you parted, you whispered, "This doesn't mean I'm not still furious with you."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch
Again, you were trouble. Even after two years together, you definitely kept him on his toes. Not transferring and working alongside your boyfriend made for an interesting way to live.
“What you did was stupid and reckless, Y/N.” Aaron's voice was stern as the team boarded the jet to head back home. The case had been a success, but it came at the cost of you getting into the unsub’s car without any weapons. Fortunately, you had your team.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Y/N. I’m serious.”
“Ooooo, Mom and Dad are fighting,” Spencer teased from across the jet.
“Shut up, Spencer,” you snapped, making him raise his hands in mock surrender. Then, you turned to Hotch. “You know damn well I needed to get into his car. If I didn’t and you caught him, he would’ve acted like he was just trying to get with me.”
Aaron rubbed the side of his head. Migraines. You gave him migraines. “The plan was for you to walk down the street, and the moment you were alone with him, we would get him. You went rogue.”
You rolled your eyes again. “Well, technically we were alone, and you did get him.”
He was about to argue again, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him your infamous puppy dog face. “Aaron, I’m okay. You know I did what I had to do to catch him. I’m sorry I worried you, but I’m not sorry for helping bring him in.”
He sighed, knowing you were right, and he could never stay mad at you. “I hated every second of it. My heart stopped the moment you got into that damn car.”
You smiled and pecked him on the lips. “Hey, you always said I was going to give you a heart attack.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes before he kissed you. “You have, and you most definitely will again.”
“Hey, that’s what you love about me.”
“That is true.”
573 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
Text
range
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words: 700
warnings: mentions of violence, takes place in s3, gun range, shooting (just targets), protective!rafe, soft!rafe, established relationship
“rafe, i really don't know about this…” you sigh, hands twisting around together, trying to combat them shaking and appearing weak in front of your boyfriend.
“i just think this would be a good idea.” rafe says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i don't expect you to become a fan or do this fun, but it would make me feel better.”
“is this because of whatever you're doing with barry?” you question, placing your hands on your hips. “or why you were in carribbean for “business” and all of a sudden stop answering my calls?”
“what do you know about barry?” rafe questions, his face turning pale, voice dropping as his tone turns serious.
“i heard you talking to him on the phone. you thought i was asleep.” you admit sheepishly, not proud of what you did, but you knew rafe was hiding something from you.
“okay.” rafe says, hands dropping to your shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “yes. it's because of bad men that i want you to at least learn how to shoot a basic handgun. i will be here to protect you but if anything happens to me…”
“rafe, you're really scaring me.” you gulp, eyes suddenly darting around, wondering how safe you are in tanneyhill.
“im gonna get shit sorted out. soon. until then, i need to know you can protect yourself.”
“okay.” you pout, knowing rafe will suck his head and kiss you. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and find comfort in his hold, slight relief knowing that what he was hiding from you wasn't another girl, but knowing hes in danger sends a chill to your very core.
“as far as i can tell, no one knows about you. as much as i want to show you off to the world, i need you to just be sheltered for a little bit. until things blow over.”
“rafe,” you coo out, placing your hands on the smooth planes of his cheeks. “im not mad. i trust you. just tell me this stuff so im not sat here questioning.”
“i love you.” rafe says earnestly. he used to see it as a flaw, how deep his love runs for those he cares about, especially when it turned sour against his family, but when you came into his life everything turned around and began looking up, his growing love becoming a strength instead of a weakness.
“i love you too.” you press another kiss to his lips. “so, when are we going?”
--
rafe has the guns laid out in the case, all pointing down range. two pistols and one revolver, all handed down to him by ward, who of course only bought the highest of quality.
“okay.” you nod, listening intently to rafes safety lesson, purposely looking at the guns and not his face as to not get distracted and remind yourself of the importance of what you're doing.
“ill fire the full magazine first that way you can hear it and see it.” rafe explains. “and then ill reload and you can fire. this one doesn't have a lot of kickback.”
you nod and take a couple steps back, jumping when the first shot is fired, but your flinching slowly settles as rafe fires down the range until the gun clicks.
“ready?” rafe turns, placing his hands on your shoulders. “remember, when you pick up a gun, you're doing it to save yourself. you're shooting to kill.”
“i know.” you nod somberly, moving to the edge of the shooting area and picking up the gun, making sure to aim it towards the target the whole time as you adjust your grip before flipping the safety.
your finger hesitates briefly over the trigger before you fire, gasping at the power held in your hands.
you finish off the magazine and set the gun down with a staggering step back, right into rafes hold.
“i got you. you did good.” rafe hugs you to him, sliding your ear protection off to place kisses all over your face.
he continues comforting you after every round is fired, reminding you of the importance and reassuring you you're doing well.
“i know you didn't enjoy that.” rafe says as you get back into the car, having picked up all your shell casings and fully cleared the guns. “but im glad you did it, baby. i pray nothing ever happens but if it does, you'll be ready.”
sfw tags: @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @bejeweledreverie @drewsephrry
426 notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 9 months
Text
Part 2 of Neighbor!Johnny!
(Feeling a bit ✨naughty✨ this Christmas Eve so… here.)
After the fight with Ryan, you try to keep your distance from Johnny — keep the peace and all that. The more you think about the accusations your husband made… the more that guilty pit in your stomach grows.
It’s all been platonic, at least on your end. Sure, you let Johnny get away with a bit more than the average stranger, but he’s a good friend! Nothing you wouldn’t let one of your other friends do. (Even if you would find the lingering touches and general disregard for personal space a little strange from someone else.)
Sure, you have a suspicion every now and then that Johnny has more than platonic feelings for you… but they’re fleeting. Every time you worry that he’s about to cross a line, he always draws away from it. Evens out his smile, break his gaze, drops his hand. You’re close, that’s all.
But… if it’s bothering your husband. Well, you’re obligated to take that into account, aren’t you?
Even if you ache, missing your friend. Missing his silly little jokes, his cheeky grin. Miss his company while you do laundry, a helping hand in the yard, even just someone to chat with over podcasts and tv shows.
Hell, you miss hugs. Ryan’s never been big on… affection. Especially not in public.
(Barely in the house, either, really. You’ve tried talking to him about it. He swears he loves you, he just doesn’t show affection that way. You struggle to figure out why that’s so with you when he has no problem hugging his mother, sister, hell, even his secretary.
Actually… you struggle to figure out how he shows you affection. So you’ve stopped trying to figure it out at.)
But Johnny. Oh, Johnny is just so sweet to you. A hug when he greets you, a hug before he leaves. A kiss to your cheek when you hand him a drink or a snack. A hand on your hip when he leans past you to get things from high shelves. Nudges to your thighs during good parts of shows.
You miss it. Him. The friendship you’ve built in your too-quiet home, where the other neighbors seem to like your husband so much more than you.
“What’s goin’ on, hen?” Johnny asks one morning. You’ve been keeping coffee dates meetups on the porch. Which is almost worse, because it’s cold and you find yourself cuddling up to the heat he exudes like a furnace. “Hardly seen you in a month; miss my best girl.”
“Sorry, Johnny,” you sigh, rubbing at your face. Ryan’s been working late most days this week, comes in so late and wakes you up. “Just… Ryan, ya know.”
His jaw tightens, eyes flashing dangerously. You’re reminded suddenly, inexplicably, of just what Johnny does for a living. How often you’ve seen him just back home with blood still buried in his nail beds.
“Dinnae, hen,” he replies. “What about ‘im?”
You fidget, eyes on your half-empty mug. It feels wrong, admitting relationship quibbles to someone outside of family. You used to have a policy that marriage matters should stay within the marriage. But… it’s hard when it feels like you’re the only one working on the marriage. It’s a lot of work to do alone.
“He just… he doesn’t think it’s proper,” you admit, “how… how often you’re over. How close we are.”
“That so?”
You hunch your shoulders, feeling wrong. Feeling guilty for a whole new reason; for disappointing Johnny.
“Look at me, bonnie?”
He has to tip your chin up with his hand to get you to meet his eyes. His expression is softer than you expect.
“What about you, eh?”
“Me…?” You blink, peering up at him through your lashes.
“Yer feelings are all I care about, hen.”
“Johnny,” you sigh, trying to reprimand, but sound more pleading instead. He shakes your head a bit, gently; his own reprimand.
“Answer me, bonnie.”
“I like spending time with you,” you whisper.
The corners of his mouth twitch up as he hums.
“‘Course ye do,” he hums, “‘n I like spendin’ time with you. It’s not fair of ‘im, is it?”
You blink, brows pulling together in confusion. Johnny continues, the thumb on your chin gently stroking.
“Not fair of ‘im to keep you all cooped up here, come home so late, neglect ye when he is around,” he coos. “And now he’s tellin’ you to keep away from your best friend.”
He tsks, that dangerous glint in his eyes again.
“Wastin’ his tongue for bullshite when he should be usin’ it to lick your pretty pussy.”
Your mouth drops open, shock and heat flooding you hotly. “Johnny!” You gasp, scandalized.
He finally cracks a grin again. “Tell me I’m wrong, bonnie, ‘m not! When’s the last time he worked you over the way you deserve, huh? When’s the last time he made you squirt all over your sheets?”
You shove at him and then cover your burning face, trying not to squirm. Can’t answer because it would be proving him right and you don’t want to encourage his scandalous teasing.
“Bet he’d try to make you change ‘em even if he did,” Johnny grumbles, shaking his head. “Disgraceful. You ought to be put to sleep on a nice, thick cock.”
Whack!
“Oi! What was that fer?!”
“You’re being a creep, Johnny!” Your stern tone in undercut by your embarrassed laughter. “Quit talking about my shitty sex life.”
“So it is shitty!”
“Shut up!”
When a discreet box shows up at your door two days later, you know exactly who it’s from.
…that doesn’t stop you from using the (shockingly detailed and realistic) dildo inside the packaging.
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manikas-whims · 3 months
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LADS men when you start dating someone, who later on mistreats you
got this idea and wanted to get it out of my system ♡
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ZAYNE
❄️ He isn't thrilled by the revelation at all but he won't say it outright because its not his place to tell you who to date or not.
❄️ However, his dislike does show with the way his brows knit together, the flare of his nostrils with every sharp intake of breath or how his lips turn down just slightest every time you bring up this person’s name.
❄️ Every single praise for this person will arouse a sense of self-doubt in him. After all, it's better you date someone like them. Their evol will never put you in danger like Zayne's can. And they would never skip meetings due to their schedule. (Ofc if you could hear his thoughts, you'd immediately shun them from Zayne's mind.)
❄️ If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then best believe he'll freeze hell itself if he has to in order to track this person down.
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“How dare you do this to Y/N!?” Zayne’s voice is harsh, cold radiating off his arms in dangerous yet controlled wisps.
And it takes you hugging him from behind, your head resting on his back, tears from your eyes soaking into the fabric of his coat, to stop him.
“Zayne, stop. You don't need to hurt yourself.” You mumble into the fabric of his coat, your arms slipping down to entwine your fingers with his chilling ones. You can already see the hint of a fresh scar developing on the back of his hand, and you won't be able to live with yourself if you see him getting hurt because of you dating a horrible person.
The prickly sensation begins dissipating from his hands and despite the scars, the softness returns into his skin. He turns around, drawing you into a hug with one arm. You can still see his chest rising and falling due to how much he'd been exerting himself.
“Fine.” He lets out a deep breath and finally flashes you the rare warm smile he only keeps for you. “Let’s go.”
And the two of you leave together.
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XAVIER
⭐ Not that you're supposed to stay in this “will they? won't they?” situationship with your apartment neighbor forever but Xavier is just so jealous. His eyes darken, and his mood becomes sullen at the mere mention of this person.
⭐ Every time you try praising them, Xavier is going to interrupt and nitpick on how "they're always late on dates", "don't even check up on you at work", "give off a shady vibe",...the more he shit-talks about this person, the more ridiculous his words get.
⭐ He definitely gets a little touchy. After all, seeing you with someone else makes him feel as if he isn't as close to you. He makes sure this person sees his hand casually around your waist. And petty as it may seem, he's also deliberately gonna leave his hoodie and his other stuff at your place to remind you of himself.
⭐ If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then no amount of prayers will spare this person to see the light of another day.
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Xavier happens to see this person trying to approach you once more outside the apartment complex with words that barely sound like an apology. Swift as ever, he steps in front of you.
“You got some nerve showing up here after what you did to Y/N.” He says to them, an edge in his usually gentle voice.
He is as silent and deadly as you've seen him in the throes of battle, cutting down the Wanderers without a hint of mercy in his strikes. And you gulp down the tension in the air.
You know what he's capable of. You can't let him unleash the power of his evol simply because of your ex-partner maltreating you.
You bring your hand out and place it upon his heart, just like you'd done on your first encounter with him. Only this time it's not to resonate your evol with his but to push him back.
You force a smile on your face despite the messy state of your emotions. “Xav, let's grab a bite. I'm craving hotpot.”
His eyes are unflinching, and for a moment you wonder if even the bait of some tasty meat will fail to lure him. But then, a moment later he scoffs at the person and looks down at you, his gaze softening as he does so. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”
He wraps his fingers around your hand– the same one that's still resting upon his chest– and pulls you along.
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RAFAYEL
🌊 He's jealous but even more than that, he's disappointed in your choice. You can do way better than this. Actually, in his opinion, you are way out of this person's league, and deserve nothing but perfection when it comes to a partner.
🌊 He's quite vocal about his dislike, openly saying how suspicious he finds this person and how if you wanna indulge in wasting your precious time, you'd rather waste it on him.
🌊 He complains how you've changed. How you don't hang-out with him as much and pay less visits to his studio. Seeing you with someone else makes the ache in his heart more agonizing than ever. Rafayel wonders what you see in them? Do they cherish you more than him?
🌊 If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then he won't hesitate from raising the tides of the Whitesand Bay in order to drown them.
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You frantically chase after Rafayel as he corners this person. You've never seen this magnitude of fury in his beautiful eyes.
Rafayel grabs them by the front of their shirt, his voice scalding as he smirks in annoyance, “So you've finally shown your true colors to Y/N, huh?”
You can feel the temperature rising just a little, the atmosphere around feeling a lot warmer than before. Your nose catches the whiff of something burning and you realize there's smoke emanating from that person's collar.
It's scary.
Seeing someone who holds even a paintbrush so tenderly act like this. And no, you're not afraid of him for you know Rafayel will never hurt you. You're afraid for this person. You're afraid of what Rafayel is capable of becoming if you let him go on like this.
Cautiously, you wrap your hand around his wrist and free this person from his hold. The fabric of their shirt appears to be slightly charred but there's no harm done otherwise.
“Come on, Rafayel, ” You tug his wrist to pull him to you. “We shouldn't bother with the likes of them.”
He fixes his gaze on the person one last time. “Count yourself lucky Y/N is here! Or else..”
He pries his hand out of your grasp and pats your head. His smile returns, as does the warmth in his eyes and he puts an arm around your waist. “So, where are we going?”
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SYLUS VERSION [HERE]
» MASTERLIST «
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lilacwants · 3 months
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gibson girl.
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18+ notes: ethel cain is one of my favourite artists ever and this song really reminds me of homelander and how a relationship with him would actually be. summary: caught in the web of Homelander's intense charm and power, you find yourself swept up in a dark, consuming love. warnings: themes of manipulation, obsession, and dark romance. word count: 1.4k
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part 1. part 2.
You’d always been a small-town girl, living in the shadow of towering skyscrapers and the omnipresent gaze of Vought International’s superheroes. Homelander was a distant figure, a god among men, his blue eyes and perfect smile plastered on every screen. You never imagined you’d catch his eye.
It started with a simple act of bravery. A bank robbery gone wrong, and you, a mere bystander, had thrown yourself into the chaos to save a child. Homelander had arrived in a blaze of glory, dispatching the criminals with effortless precision. When he looked at you, cradling the child in your arms, there was something in his gaze—a flicker of interest.
“You were very brave,” he’d said, his voice smooth and commanding. “Not many people would have done what you did.”
From that moment, your life changed. Homelander began to visit you, always unannounced, always when you were alone. His presence was overwhelming, his charm intoxicating. He made you feel special, and chosen, like you were the only person who truly mattered in his world.
“You’re different,” he’d whisper, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re not like the others.”
The more time you spent with him, the more you realized how dangerous he was. His love was all-consuming, a dark abyss that threatened to swallow you whole. He’d appear at your doorstep with gifts, flowers, anything to make you smile. But there was always a possessiveness in his gaze, a hunger that could never be sated.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself alone with him in your small apartment. However, solitude was now a foreign concept, as it didn’t take too long for Homelander to come and see his dearest.
“I could take you away from all this,” Homelander said, his eyes burning with intensity. “We could be together, always.”
“But what about your responsibilities?” you asked, your voice trembling. “The world needs you.”
“The world can fucking wait,” he replied, cupping your face in his hands. “I need you.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine. You knew he was dangerous, that being with him meant walking a razor’s edge. But the way he looked at you like you were his salvation, made it impossible to resist.
You leaned into his touch, your lips brushing against his. “I’m yours,” you whispered, sealing your fate.
From that moment, you were caught in his web. Homelander’s love was a prison, gilded and beautiful, but a prison nonetheless. He watched over you, and protected you, but his protection came at a cost. You were his, completely and utterly, your life entwined with his in a twisted dance of obsession and desire.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Homelander's visits became the highlight of your life, a mix of excitement and dread. He would arrive unannounced, his presence filling your small apartment with an electric energy. He brought you gifts, each one more extravagant than the last. Jewellery that sparkled like his eyes, dresses that hugged your curves just right, and once, even a small, fluffy puppy that he said reminded him of you.
But with each gift came a reminder of his power. He would tell you stories of his exploits, the people he saved, and the enemies he destroyed. There was a darkness in his tales, a ruthless efficiency that sent chills down your spine. You knew he was capable of great violence, and that knowledge made his affection both thrilling and terrifying.
“You’re my hero,” he would say, his voice a soft purr as he held you close. “You saved that child, and you saved me. You’re the only one who understands me.”
You tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, going to work, and seeing friends, but it was difficult. Homelander's presence loomed over every aspect of your life. You stopped going out as much, afraid of missing his visits. Your friends noticed the change, and you could see the concern in their eyes, but what could you tell them? That you were in a relationship with the most powerful man in the world? That he loved you, but his love was suffocating?
One night, you decided to confront him. It was late, and he had just appeared at your door, a bouquet of roses in hand. You let him in, and as he placed the flowers on your table, you took a deep breath.
“We need to talk,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.
He turned to you, his blue eyes narrowing. “About what?”
“About us,” you replied. “About what this is.”
He took a step towards you, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”
“This… relationship,” you said, struggling to find the right words. “It’s… it’s too much. I feel like I’m losing myself.”
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you feared you had made a terrible mistake. But then he sighed and took your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“I know it’s overwhelming,” he said softly. “But I love you. I need you. You’re the only thing that keeps me grounded.”
“I love you too,” you said, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “But I need space. I need to feel like I still have control over my life.”
He studied you for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. “Alright,” he said finally. “I can give you space. But don’t ever doubt how much you mean to me.”
You nodded, relief flooding through you. “Thank you.”
True to his word, Homelander gave you more space. His visits became less frequent, and you began to reclaim some of your independence. You started going out with friends again, picking up hobbies you had neglected, and for a while, things seemed to be getting better.
But even with the space, he was never far from your thoughts. You found yourself looking over your shoulder, wondering if he was watching. Sometimes, you would catch a glimpse of his figure in the distance, a reminder that he was always nearby, always watching over you.
One evening, as you were walking home from work, you felt a familiar presence. You turned to see Homelander standing a few feet away, his expression intense.
“I missed you,” he said simply.
You smiled, your heart fluttering. “I missed you too.”
He closed the distance between you in an instant, pulling you into his arms. His kiss was passionate, filled with all the emotions he struggled to express. You melted into him, your fears and doubts momentarily forgotten.
As the weeks passed, you found a new rhythm. Homelander still visited, but he respected your need for space. You began to understand him better, seeing the vulnerable man beneath the powerful exterior. He confided in you, sharing his fears and insecurities, and you realized that his love for you was genuine, if not a bit overwhelming.
But there were still moments of darkness. Times when his possessiveness would surface, and you would see the flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. You learned to navigate these moments, soothing his fears and reassuring him of your love.
You became adept at reading his moods, knowing when to give him space and when to draw him close. It was a delicate balance, but one you managed to maintain. You realized that being with Homelander meant accepting all parts of him—the hero, the lover, and the monster.
And despite everything, you loved him. You loved him with a fierceness that surprised even you. He was your hero, your protector, and the man who had stolen your heart.
In time, you found a strange kind of happiness. Your life was far from normal, but it was your life. You were no longer just a small-town girl living in the shadow of superheroes. You were Homelander’s girl, and that meant something.
It meant danger, and it meant love. It meant walking a razor’s edge every day, but you were willing to do it. Because in the end, you had made your choice.
And as you stood by Homelander’s side, his arm around your waist, you knew that you had become an actual Gibson girl—beautiful, desired, and forever trapped in the arms of a man who could destroy the world with a single thought.
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faun-the-fawn77 · 4 months
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"𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃"
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Lucifer Morningstar x F!FallenAngel!Reader
Genre: SMUT
Word Count: 4.0k
Warnings: oral(m! receiving), creampie, breeding, mentions of having kids, clit play, overstimulation, squirting, brief fingering, whipped!Lucifer, Lucifer being a sweetheart, reader is horny 25/8
Desc: A one night stand is a one night stand... right? What happens when Lucifer keeps going back to the same fallen angel just for a taste of Heaven? Oh no... seems the Devil has caught feelings once again!
Note: Lucifer smut;) like there isn't enough already. Requests are open now! This is third and final fic of the votes. Don't worry to those who voted for others! I will be working on all those fics:) Next after this one is a part two to "Lips Of An Angel". Just have to...find a song that will match the part two:)
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I’m so addicted to
All the things you do
When you’re going down on me
In between the sheets
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
When you’re loving me
Another shitty day in Hell. Sinners were offing each other in the streets of the Pride Ring. The angelic building in the middle of the city shone brightly in the red light, the clock on each side had big letters reading ‘36 DAYS’. 
Lucifer, King of Hell himself, wandered the streets of Cannibal town, a mission in his mind. He tried to avoid Rosie ‘cause she’s a talker and would only make him late for where he needed to go after getting the thing he came to this lovely town for. He scoured the shops looking for the one thing that stood out to him last time he was here. It reminded him so much of Her. Of the one person he couldn’t get out of his mind. 
“Well, hello to our dear king! How are you on this hellish evening?” Lucifer growled lowly at the sound of that radio prick's voice. He turned to the red deer demon and pulled him down by his collar.
“Listen, I don’t have time for your theatrics today. I have places to be and things to get and I don’t need some lowlife sinner messing that up for me,” Lucifer let go of the demon’s coat and strided off to the jewelry shop he spotted out of the corner of his eye, waving behind to the overlord, “Hope you have a bad day!”
Later that evening, Lucifer turned up at his daughter’s hotel. He always came under the guise of seeing his daughter but everyone knew he came for one particular guest of his daughters. Knocking on the giant doors, he waited ‘till either his daughter or the deer prick opened up. 
The doors opened a few minutes later and Lucifer was greeted by, thankfully, his daughter’s voice, “Oh! Back again, dad? But I jus-”
“Charlie! You know I’m always here to see you! I just missed you so much that I couldn’t wait a few days!” Lucifer walked in and hugged his daughter. Vaggie stood off to the side, peering out the door for any dangers. 
Charlie gasped before smiling nervously and patted her dad’s back. She pulled away and held him by the shoulders. 
“Dad, you know I love when you visit. We all do! But uh- Everyone, especially Angel, has noticed that you only come here for a certain someone…” Charlie trailed off. Lucifer stood there silently and blinked slowly, almost frog-like.
“Ah…” He didn’t know what to say. Was he that obvious? The weight in his suit pocket seemed to weigh down on him immensely. He gripped the apple on his cane tightly. 
“Is she here?” Charlie smiled. She wanted her dad to be happy. After her mom had left them, her dad was in a slump. She checked up on him as much as she could but she could tell he wasn’t getting any better. After finding Y/N, a fallen angel just like her father, Charlie brought her with to her family home in hopes of them becoming friends. After that, Lucifer has been stopping by more than he used to. Charlie thought it was because they were good friends but after what Angel told the group last time…Charlie knew her father had fallen once again and this time harder than he fell for Lilith. 
“She’s here. Last I spoke with her, she was working on a secret project. She wouldn’t tell me what it was.” Lucifer looked about ready to bounce off the walls of the hotel lobby. 
“Well I’ll just uh- yeah…” Lucifer ran off towards the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse at the top of the hotel. He rocked on his heels as the lift made its way up to the top. He stuck his clawed left hand into his suit pocket and clutched the velvet box.
“Well, hello there, handsome.” Y/N’s voice was like smooth silk. It calmed Lucifer’s nerves down, the breath stuck in his throat was exhaled as he stepped foot into his…friend’s penthouse. He wouldn’t call her friend with the amount of times they’ve gotten intimate but, he didn’t know what else to call it. 
“Hello, darling. How is your night going?” Lucifer plopped a seat on the sofa in her living room. He watched as she rounded the island in her kitchen, holding a cup of coffee and wearing nothing but a white silk robe. 
“I’m doing wonderfully, Luci. What prompted the visit?” She folded her legs as she sat on the other end of the sofa. Lucifer cleared his throat and shifted his legs. The robe was a bit see-through which made her breasts very noticeable to him.
“Just wanted to see you…” Y/N smiled cheekily. She knew what she was doing to him. With the way she sat to what she was wearing, Lucifer couldn’t believe he had this much self-control to not jump on her.
“Is that all?” Lucifer gulped. He shifted in his seat once again and gazed away from Y/N’s intense stare. Her eyes darkened with lust as she continued to stare right at him. 
“What do you actually want, Luci?” She placed her mug down, sliding her bottom over and closer to her partner. She watched him cross his legs and grip the arm of the sofa.
“Come on, Luci. Tell me what you desire~” She ran a hand up his arm and over his chest. Lucifer watched with bated breath as she undid his bowtie and slipped the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Her fingers snuck under the shirt and touched all over his pale chest.
“Luciiii~” Lucifer felt the last thin thread snap at the tone of her voice. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down onto the couch. He roughly kissed her and made sure to slide his forked tongue between her lips and into her mouth. He heard her moan and felt her hands run up his arms and into his hair. 
Lucifer pulled away with a dazed look in his red eyes. He was straddling her lap, his erection pushing painfully against his suit pants. 
“Need help with that?” Lucifer sat back as Y/N leaned over him, running her hands from his hair, down his semi-exposed chest, and to his tightened pants. She undid his black belt and slipped it from his pants. She popped the button on his pants and unzipped the zipper. 
“Please…” Lucifer whined. Y/N looked up at him and smirked. She made sure to go slow when she pulled his pants down his legs. Her knees hit the carpeted floor when his pants did. Her soft hands slid from his ankles and all the way up to his boxers elastic. 
“Be patient, Luci.”
“God, I’m addicted…” Lucifer mumbled. He was very addicted to her. To all the things she does to him both in and out of the sheets.
Y/N hummed and brought her mouth closer towards his erection. Her breath fanned across the dampened tip and she quickly tore through his duck-printed boxers. The shreds of fabric fell to the carpet. 
“Oh, Luci…” She licked a stripe up from his balls to tip. Lucifer moaned loudly and rushed to cover his mouth. Y/N laughed, pulling his hand from his mouth.
“You can be as loud as you want, my dear. No one can hear us.” With that, she took the tip of his dick into her hot mouth. Lucifer gripped the sofa, tearing streaks into it with his claws. His breathing became laboured as Y/N made work on his cock. She swirled her tongue around the tip, her hand coming up and wrapping around the base. She wanted to antagonise him. Make him want her.
“Oh my Lord, please! Please do something…” Lucifer could feel his patience run thin. Patience was definitely not one of his virtues, if he had any left. 
Y/N hummed. She removed her hand and placed both of them on his thighs, bracing herself, before taking him whole. 
“OH, Y/N/N! Plea~ah,” Lucifer moaned. He bucked his hips up into her mouth and down her throat. He wanted to feel guilty but he was so into the pleasure that she was giving him. Her nails dug into his thighs, her moans vibrated down his length which caused him to gag her once again. 
“I-I’m sorry! You just-hah-you just are so good,” Lucifer praised. She may have been an angel but by God was her mouth sinful. 
Ohh, girl, let’s take it slow
So as for you, well, you know where to go
I wanna take my love and hate you ‘til the end
It’s not like you to turn away
From all the bullshit I can’t take
It’s not like me to walk away
It’s been a few days since Lucifer has been intimate with his partner. His friends with benefits as he has learned from Angel Dust. He was scared. Every time they’ve gotten intimate, Lucifer was on the verge of telling her he loves her. It took all it had in him to not shout it when he came. 
“Oh, Rosie. I don’t know what to do!” Lucifer plonked his head on the table face first. His glass of whiskey shook at the action. 
Rosie, the one who made sure the cannibals in her town stayed in check, patted her king on his head. She smiled down at the fallen angel and watched as he mumbled to himself.
“Honey, if you don’t tell her how you feel, then how is she supposed to know you feel this way? What if someone else sweeps her off her feet? She is nothing like that ex of yours, ya know.” Lucifer grumbled. He knew she wasn’t like Lilith. Lilith was a cold-hearted bitch who cared about no one but herself. 
“I’m trying to take it slow.”
“Is having a one night stand and then becoming friends with benefits ‘taking it slow’?” Lucifer glared at the smiling cannibal. She was right and he knew it. He sighed and dug into his pocket. He brought out the velvet box and slid it over to his friend. 
“I wanted to give her this when I confessed… I don’t know if it’s too much…” Rosie gently took the box and opened it. She gasped when she saw what it was. 
“Lucifer! This is gorgeous! I’m sure she’ll love it, honey.” Lucifer felt his shoulders sag with relief. The piece in the velvet box was beautiful. It was a silver ring detailed with leaves. Deer antlers were what held the moss agate stone in the middle. He learned from Husk and Angel that she only wore silver jewellery and that her favourite stone was moss agate. It may not have been the most expensive but he wanted it to come from the heart and not from his wealth. 
“I know she will. I just…I hate how much I love her. It’s suffocating with her not knowing.” Lucifer was still scared. Scared that she’d walk away and leave everything they’ve built behind. Just like Lilith. He knew it wasn’t like Y/N to turn away. He knew because he’d attend some of those silly exercises his daughter hosted. 
“Tell her. Let her know and don’t bullshit your way outta this.” Rosie slid the ring back to Lucifer. She watched as he breathed in deeply, pocketed the box, and made his way to the door to her shop. 
“I won’t walk away from her. Not like I did to Lilith.” With that, Lucifer exited the shop and made his way to the hotel.
I’m so addicted to 
All the things you do 
When you’re going down on me
In between the sheets
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
When you’re loving me
Yeah
“Well, if it isn’t my favourite king! How are you today, my dear?” Lucifer had arrived at Y/N’s place in seconds flat after leaving Rosies. He had spider lilies in one hand and a stuffed black cat in the other. Both being her favourite things she’s seen in Hell. 
“Good! I just wanted to have a chat with you. Hangout for a bit after all the paperwork I did this morning.” Lucifer watched her eyes light up at the sight of the flowers and stuffie. She grabbed them from his hands and raced to get the flowers in some water. She placed the stuffed cat on her loveseat near her bookshelf. 
Lucifer stepped out of the lift and slowly walked towards the kitchen of her penthouse. Y/N was humming as she cut the bottoms of the flowers and placed them in the black vase. Her fingers were nimble and held the flowers delicately to ensure they didn't get damaged. 
“What did you want to talk about, sweetheart?” Lucifer took a seat at the island, snatching an apple from the basket of fruit in the centre. 
“Nothing important… uhm, how was your day?” Lucifer was nervous. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t drop the L-bomb on her. She was too important to him to lose. 
“It was amazing! Your daughter is such a sweetie! She’s helped me adjust to life in Hell wonderfully. I wish I could pay her back somehow…” Lucifer looked at the angel. This angel was of pure heart and faith. He knew Y/N was still struggling with being in Hell. He knew because he could see the way she hid behind his daughter when they went out or when she would quote from the bible only to grow embarrassed when the others looked at her in confusion. 
“She is a sweetie, isn’t she? I’m glad you’re adjusting to Hell. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable while you’re here.” Lucifer bit into the apple. Y/N watched as the juice dripped from his chin. She licked her lips, walking towards the island and having a seat on the stool near Lucifer. 
Lucifer continued to munch on the apple, not noticing Y/N’s hand creeping towards his thigh. When she made contact, Lucifer jumped and choked on a bit of the sweet fruit. 
“Surely you didn’t come here just to talk.” Lucifer felt flushed. He cleared his throat and set the apple core down. 
“I promise it was only just to talk. I know I said it was nothing important but-”
“Shh, Luci. I can see how tense your shoulders are. Why don’t I-”
Lucifer stood up abruptly causing Y/N’s hand to fall from his lap. He stepped back and sucked in a breath. He reached into his pocket and produced the black velvet box for Y/N to see. He could see the confusion in her eyes. 
“Y/N, I love you. I love you so much that the thought of you not knowing was suffocating me. I know it only started out as us being friends and delving into a one night stand that then turned us into friends with benefits. After a while, it wasn’t just the sex for me. I wanted all of you. Heart, body, mind, and soul. I wanted to feel what it was like for you to love me for me and not for my body. I hope this doesn’t scare you off but I wanted you to know how I feel about you.” Lucifer finished up and placed the small box in front of her. He was sweating profusely and his hands gripped the apple on his cane tightly. He watched as Y/N lifted the box up gently and opened it. Her eyes glittered and he swore he saw tears in her eyes.
“Luci…” Her breath was airy. Like he took her breath away.
“Luci, thank you. No one has done this much for me since I’ve been created. You don’t have to be scared ‘cause I love you just as much.” Lucifer could cry. She felt the same! He smiled brightly and bounded up to the tall angel and hugged her tightly. 
“Oh my Hell! I could bounce off these walls in happiness! Oh, I love you so much, my angel!” Lucifer could feel the vibrations of her laugh. She hugged him back just as tightly, the ring he gave her glittering on her right hand. 
“Thank you for accepting me, Y/N/N,” Lucifer mumbled into her breasts. He felt her fingers run through his golden locks as she hummed.
“No need to thank me, honey. I love you so very much.”
“Let’s head to the bedroom. I need to get this energy out~”
And I know when it’s getting rough
All the times we spend
Trying to make this love something better than
Just making up again
It’s not like you to turn away
All the bullshit I can’t take
Just when I think I can walk away
They’ve only had a few fights but they were only about Lucifer's work. He was the king and every time he went to sign off on a meeting paper to say he wouldn’t be able to make it, Y/N scolded him and told him he needed to go or the residents of the seven rings of hell won’t take him seriously anymore. 
She was right. Every time they went out on a date, Lucifer could hear the whispers and snickering. He was gone for years when Lilith left and everyone had assumed that he was gone. Now that he’s back and appearing more in the public eye, the sinners in Pride casted snide remarks his way. 
“Honey, a letter just came in from Ozzie. Have you always had a family dinner every month with the seven sins and Charlie?” Lucifer paled at the mention of the dinner. He hasn’t been to one since Lilith left him. Charlie had tried to get him to go a couple times only for him to turn her down and go back to wallowing in his sadness. 
“Uh- yes… yes we do. Ozzie was the one that actually wanted it to happen.” Lucifer bounced his knee nervously. Y/N hummed and made his way into the study and up to his desk. She set down the letter and looked down at him.
“How about we go? Ozzie seems to want to meet me and to introduce us to that little imp of his. This’ll be good for you! We can see family and maybe we could invite the residents of the hotel? Have the sins come from their rings and hang out in Pride?” Y/N has been encouraging him to get back into contact with his family since they’ve gotten together. Seemed she was very family oriented. I mean, she had always had him finish inside her whenever they were intimate. He had a sense that she wanted kids but she hasn’t said anything to him yet. 
“Fine. How about you write the letter back to Ozzie. Have him send out a message to the others that we’ll be having the dinner at our place. I’ll fly over to the hotel and inform Charlie.” Y/N squeaked and pulled a blank paper from her lover’s pile of papers on the desk. She produced a quill with the snap of her fingers and wrote out the letter. Lucifer was happy that she was excited to meet his family. Every time they had the petty arguments about his work and paperwork, she would ignore him ‘til she got too horny and then seduced him into bed. He didn’t want this love to be about fighting and making up with sex. He wanted it to be more than that,
“I told him that we’ll have the dinner this Friday! Make sure you mention to Charlie that I invited everyone from the hotel to be there!” Lucifer smiled as she leaned down to kiss his rosy cheek. She bounced off to who-knows-where while Lucifer sat back in his desk chair and sighed. He had to talk to her. 
I’m so addicted to 
All the things you do
When you’re going down on me
In between the sheets
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
I’m so addicted to
The things you do
When you’re going down on me
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
When you’re loving me
Yeah
When you’re loving me
“Oh fuck! Lucifer, right there!” The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and ragged breathing. Lucifer was pounding mercilessly into his lover’s pussy. He watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head as his dick hit just the right spot inside her. Her moans echoed off the walls, her hands clenching the silk sheets beneath her. 
“Come on, baby. You have one more in you, don’t ya?” Lucifer groaned out into her ear. His stomach tightened when he felt her clench at his words. He smirked and brought a clawed hand to her pussy. His pointer and middle finger rubbing circles on her clit. She moaned loudly at the contact before she started to shake as her orgasm crashed through her. Juices squirted from her dripping pussy and coated his lower abdomen and thighs. 
“Oh fucking hell…” Lucifer moaned. His dick throbbed and he finally came into her clenching hole. His seed spilled out while he was still in her and when he pulled out he made sure to take his fingers, scoop up the mess, and push it back into her. Y/N moaned and tried to push his hand away only for him to grab it and shush her.
“It’s okay, honey. Just wanna make sure it takes…” Lucifer held still inside of her and when she calmed her breathing down, he made ‘come hither’ motions. She squeaked out and tried to squirm away only for Lucifer to pin her down. 
“One more. One more time, sweetheart. I need to make sure it takes,” Lucifer whispered. He leaned up and over her, pulling his fingers from her pussy and replacing it with his hardened dick. He saw her eyes tear up from overstimulation. He kissed her lips, holding onto her hips and slowly drove his hips into hers. 
“That’s it, sweetie. You can take it. I got you.” Lucifer whispered sweet nothings into her ear as he began to pick up his pace. His grip tightened on her hips when her pussy clenched around him. He moaned out, dropping his head onto her breasts. 
“I’m c-close, Luci! Please!” Lucifer thrusted his hips faster, making sure to hit the spot that made her see stars. Her eyes clenched shut and her hips moved to meet his hips. Her moans grew louder as her orgasm grew closer. 
“Oh, Hell…” Lucifer almost whined when Y/N tightened around his length, her moans loud as she shuddered. Her orgasm hit her full force, her pussy squirting out juices once again. Lucifer sped up until he finally released another load into her abused hole. 
“I want you to be a mama. Charlie already loves you, why not have another?” Lucifer mumbled. He dropped down on top of her, his dick still in her to keep his load inside to make sure it takes. 
Y/N ran her fingers through his messy hair and smiled down at him. He was such a softie for kids. Whenever they would visit the other rings, Y/N made sure they at least went to the circuses that were held that day to support the kids. 
“I love you, Luci.” 
Lucifer snuggled into her more and murmured out tiredly, “I love you most.”
How can I make it through
All the things you do
There’s just gotta be more to you and me
I’m so addicted to 
All the things you do
When you’re going down on me
In between the sheets
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
It’s unlike anything
I’m so addicted to
All the things you do
When you’re going down on me
Oh, the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It’s unlike anything
I’m so addicted to you
Addicted to you
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WOOOO SECOND LUCI FIC!!! Hope I did him justice:')
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