Your fingers swirl softly in the burgundy tuffs of his hair, inching towards the nape of his neck where fluff turns into scruff. “Maybe, but I’d love it if she had your hair color.”
Valko’s head rests on your shoulder, slightly atop your chest. Laying in bed together, listening to the soft putter of rain hit the window, staring down at the swell of your stomach. Your precious little pup growing inside.
“I really hope she has your eyes, Val.” Those beautiful amber orbs that you fell in love with, you can only pray that your doting little girl is blessed with the same ones. “You just want her to be a mini version of me? Where’s the fun in that? Maybe I want a mini version of you.”
A large hand splays over your stomach, feeling your little girl’s fluttering kicks as greeting. She loves the sound of her papa’s voice, loves the feeling of her papa’s touch. Just as much as her mama does. “We’ll have more babies. Let me have this though, yeah? I want my first experience with motherhood to be with a mini of the love of my life.”
The first great grandchild no less, and a little girl? Valko’s family had already spoiled her rotten and she hadn’t even left your womb. Now, you were just as bad… though he may be worse. “Still, not fair. I want her to look like the woman I can’t live without.” His thumb caresses your tummy softly, a smile curling his lips when she kicks.
“She’s already feisty like you, look at her go.” You laugh, watching your tummy jump and your little girl jostle. “She’s got her papa’s stubbornness, his determination. She’s really shaping up to be a mini you, Val.”
“Our little pup.” He affirms rather than acknowledging your comment, only proving his stubbornness. Though, the smile on your lips can’t be stopped. Gingerly, you scratch at his ears, sighing as you mutter back. “Our little pup.”
I miss him like he’s my dead wife… trust me y’all regardless of the outcome I will not stop writing for Valko. Lads will always be 6 to me.
EEEEEEEE OKAY WAITUHHHHH i need some gamer!valko vibes 👉🏽👈🏽 i’m getting so much cuteness aggression from seeing him with headphones on WITH HIS EARS 🥹 like with MC having those cat headphones beside him? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
can i just say…this was fun
STREAMER VALKO!
THE FANS WERE CONFUSED.
Two different audiences, two different streamers, shared confusion.
The two of you were acquaintances at the very, very least of the leasts, colleagues of some sort. Valko’s streams coincided with yours from time to time, resulting in collaborations that had essentially become a regularly scheduled program. That was not confusing. What was confusing was the dynamic between the two of you. Flirty words one moment, then a palm to the face the next. Lingering gazes oozing with desire, then an off-hand comment so foul they left viewers wondering why you two kept collaborating. Playful roughhousing accompanied by honeyed shit talking. It was enemies to lovers right before their eyes, cats and dogs.
Literally cats and dogs.
A viewer had sent a pair of headphones to both you and Valko, practically begging you both to open them on stream together. Neither of you thought much of the request. Fanmail was normal. Unboxing streams were not out of the ordinary. Then, the headphones were unboxed, and it all made sense–one pair of cat ear headphones for you, and one pair of dog ear headphones for Valko.
A deep chuckle rumbled from his robust chest, a mischievous glint in his topaz eyes.
“Put them on, pussy,” he taunts.
You exhale sharply from your nose, not quite a laugh, but definitely a huff of annoyance.
“Do you wear your headphones over your actual ears or your wolf ears?” you quip without missing a beat. “Fucking furry.”
The chat blows up, a flurry of keyboard smashes and emojis. Hundreds of screencaps are being taken and shared at the speed of light the second your headphones are secured on your heads.
“Yoooooo,” Valko murmurs, roughly grabbing you and squeezing your head between his hulking bicep and forearm. “Wait, we’re fuckin’ cute.”
A dog. Friendly, boisterous, rough, a little stupid, but well-intentioned.
And you, a cat with self-respect and boundaries, smacking at his arm.
“Can you not for once,” you mutter beneath your breath, shoving yourself free of his death grip.
You turn your head to glare at him. Against your will, your expression softens the second you see how he is looking at you. Really looking at you like you’re not a nuisance who acts as if you can barely tolerate him 90 percent of the time. The corners of your lips tug upward ever so slightly, forming a whisper of a smile.
You hold out your hand for his to take, an olive branch.
Hi! I saw that you are taking requests for Valko, i'm still hoping they are going to change their mind but could you write somethng really sweet about Valko comforting us?
ᯓ★ valko comforts you! <3
You'd had a shit day.
It wasn't a particular thing that ruined your mood. It was just… this weird feeling of wrongness that messed with your mood.
You sat in your living room, curled up on your couch, a blanket draped over your legs and your laptop perched in your lap. You were binging your favorite show in an attempt to feel better, but there was still this restless, anxious energy humming in your chest.
You heard the small jingling of keys, then, your door was creaking open.
Valko.
He stepped in, toeing his shoes off at the door before smiling at you. "Hey, you." He tilted his head slightly, instantly noticing a weird shift in the air. "You okay?"
You forced a tiny smile. "Yeah."
He stepped into the living room, his movements slow. Carefully, he picked up your legs to make space for himself on the couch and sat down before placing them back over his lap. "You sure?"
He eyed you carefully. Then, without asking, he leaned over, cradling the back of your head to pull you toward him as he rubbed his nose to your temple. "You don't smell 'okay'," he murmured.
You recoiled. "What? Do I smell bad?"
"That's not what I meant." He placed a hand over your leg, rubbing it through the blanket. "You smell… sad."
You swallowed. "You can smell that?"
He gave a small nod.
You sighed, closing your laptop. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel—I feel sad and I have no idea why." You blinked up at your boyfriend. "It feels so stupid to say out loud. How can I feel sad without having any reason to?"
You barely had time to react before he was shifting. He grabbed your laptop, placed it on the coffee table in front of the couch, and pulled you sideways into his lap, your blanket bunching up on your lap.
"Valko, what are you—?"
"Not everything needs a reason," he said, drawing circles over your back.
You let out a soft exhale. "I sound crazy, Val."
"You don't sound crazy," he countered, moving you so your head was tucked under his chin and your cheek was pressed against his chest. "Sometimes we just have bad days."
You were quiet for a second. And for just a second, you started accepting his argument. But the doubt of the day slowly crept back in.
You opened your mouth again and murmured a quiet, "But I am crazy." You pulled back to look at him. "Do you really want a crazy partner who can't even tell you why they're upset?"
Valko's lips twitched up slightly. "I want you, period."
"But—"
"There's no but's. You're stuck with me. Do you understand that?" You scoffed, about to give another protest, but he continued, "I'm not going anywhere. So just sit here and let me do this."
He didn't give you a chance to respond to that either. He wrapped his arms around you, tucking you back under his chin, pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head.
You finally melted, the tension in your shoulders draining out. "Thanks, Val."
He hummed, sinking back into the couch so you could rest across his lap more comfortably. "Anytime."
a/n: FUH INFOLD AND EVERYTHING THAT CONTRIBUTED THIS SITUATION
valko pays for your claws nails so you'll scratch tf out of his back!
content: fem reader, scratching, blood from scratching, sex, piv, mating press, not proofread
wc: 860
a/n: there is no war in ba sing se. there is no valko cancellation. forget about him being nuked and read this.
your hands smooth over the muscular expanse of valko’s back, dull nails tracing the dips and curves. he shivers and pushes back into your fingers, purring slightly. he shuffles food around in the popping skillet, looking at you over his shoulder.
“i like your back.” you mumble and pepper kisses against it.
valko smirks and steps back, crowding you. “it’s looking a little bare, don’t you think?”
“mmm? looks fine to me.”
“it would look better than fine if someone marked it up.” he turns the skillet off and turns to face you, grabbing your hands and maneuvering them into a clawing gesture.
valko chuckles and ‘grrs’ for you, pretending like you’re some vicious predator.
you raise an eyebrow and look at your short nails. “won’t that hurt?”
he holds your nails in his palms and presses on the edge of them, feeling for the sharpness. “sweetheart, these wouldn’t even hurt a pup. you remember i’m a werewolf, riiight?” he smiles. “i’ve been scratched by newborns with longer claws.”
you hum and consider it. “well… even if i did want to scratch you, my nails would break before they got long enough.”
valko pats the tops of your hands and lets them go, going back to cooking. “i’ll pay for you to get acrylics. any shape, length, color you want- you could even get a design.”
“are you sure?” you ask skeptically. despite knowing that your boyfriend was rich rich, you still felt bad spending his money.
the very next day, you had long stiletto nails in a deep plum color.
valko was ecstatic when he saw them, but paused when he examined them further. you’d gotten his initials painted on your ring fingers- a suggestion from the nail artist. you’d been worried it was too much… what if valko didn’t like it?
…valko liked it. probably a little too much, considering how he was fucking you so deep into the memory foam mattress that you were sure your indentation would be there for years to come.
“nnghhhh!! ‘ko- shit!” you breathed out, gasping for air as his thick cock drilled against your cervix.
your nails pressed dully into his skin, not quite scratching or piercing the skin.
valko groaned and moved forward, pressing your knees fully beside your head into a deep mating press. “scratch me. dig your nails in- hmmmm.” he whined out.
you pressed down harder, raking your nails down the expanse of his back and raising the skin in red streaks.
“yes- fuck, perfect. harder, dig in harder, i know you’re strong. show me how strong you are.” valko’s breath hitched and he let out a pleased moan when you followed his instructions.
you whined and babbled incoherently about how good he felt, how deep he was in you while your nails left scratches on his back in every direction.
you mindlessly clawed at his skin, searching desperately for something to hold onto and he fucked you harder than you’d ever felt.
“s’ good.. such a good mate, so accommodating, scratching the shit out of me.” valko praises, voice gruff in your ear.
“mmhmmm.” you whine. he switches his angle ever so slightly, hitting upward and bullying the spot deep inside you that makes your vision white out.
you screech and dig your nails into his back hard, hard enough to make him groan and stutter.
“fuck! cumming- cu- shit, holy shit.” valko moans out, collapsing on top of you as he fills you the condom full of his thick cum.
you’re both in a hazy sort of bliss that only sex can give for a handful of minutes after. you’re only brought out of it when valko stands to go get a warm towel for you and your eyes meet his back- your canvas.
you gasp and sit up weakly. "valko!”
valko turns, on high alert and scanning the room. “what- what? fuck, don’t scare me like that-”
“your back is bleeding!” you interrupt, crawling towards him on shaky limbs.
valko pauses and reaches to touch his back, looking at his bloody fingers. “oh.”
“i’m so sorry- oh my god, i’m evil, i’m terrible!” you ramble, tears brimming your eyes.
when you look up at valko, he’s… smiling?! ear to ear, at that! “what the hell is the matter with you?! i injured you!” you yell, tossing a pillow at him in frustration.
valko smiles and walks to the edge of the bed, cradling your cheek with his clean hand. “you marked me up, just like every good mate should. here, take a picture for me.” he grabs his phone from the nightstand and hands it to you, turning around.
you open the camera and snap a picture, trying not to drool over it. you’d marked him up good- he had red streaks in all directions, blood trickling from most of them. weirdly, the sight made a new wetness form between your legs.
valko looked at the picture cleared his throat, a flush rising on his cheek. something else rose, right beside your face, thick and leaking pre again.
since that day, your nails were always done and valko’s back was always painted ruby red.
a/n: no one be sad!!!! everyone be happy!! valko lives on, i promiseeee yall everything will be okay. do you really think mama rhi would let anything happen to our valko? no!!
Grand Duke!Zayne and you are so loud during sex that there is an unofficial consensus among the staff to avoid your wing at night completely, and most of the times during day after finishing essential housekeeping💀;
The heavy oak door to your chambers had barely clicked shut before Zayne's lips found your neck, his large hands already working at the laces of your nightgown.
"You're impatient tonight, Your Grace," you breathed, though you made no move to stop him.
"Hush." His voice was a low rumble against your skin. "I've been in council meetings for six hours listening to the old baron droning about grain taxes. Let me have this."
It doesn't take long till both your moans shadow the ominous creaking of the bed and the rattling of various ornaments in the room.
...
Your two handmaidens, Elara and Mina, look up as they hear the noise, before facing each other and shaking their heads, scurrying out before they traumatise their poor ears.
"I swear by the gods," Mina whispered, her cheeks flushed crimson even as she pressed a hand to her chest, "last week I went up to fetch my embroidery scissors. I forgot he'd returned from the border. The things I heard..."
Elara winced. "How long did it take you to recover?"
"Three days. I walked past the door at the wrong moment." Mina's voice dropped to a horrified hush.
They rounded the corner into the servants' stairwell, where the stone walls offered blessed, deadened silence.
"The new stable boy asked me yesterday why no one goes to the east wing after supper," Elara said, adjusting her wimple. "I told him it was being renovated."
"Renovated." Mina let out a choked laugh. "That's one word for it."
...
Down in the kitchen, the cook had taken to serving late-night tea with a knowing look and a sympathetic pat on the shoulder for any servant who emerged from the upper floors looking particularly haunted. The head housekeeper had a rotation schedule that mysteriously exempted the entire eastern corridor from evening duties. Even the guards had been known to draw straws for who had to walk the night patrol past the Grand Duke's chambers.
"The chandelier," one guard had whispered to another just last week, his face pale. "I watched it swaying. And no windows were open."
...
Upstairs, oblivious to the quiet terror they had inspired among the staff, Zayne's hand braced against the headboard as the bed (solid oak, reinforced twice by a skeptical carpenter) protested loudly beneath you two.
"Ah...Zayne...the bed..." He drove deeper, hooked his hips just so, and your warning dissolved into a sound that would have made a nun blush to the tip of her toes.
"Don't worry about the bed, my duchess," Zayne growls against your throat. "It's not more valuable than your pleasure."
He hikes your leg up higher over his shoulder and thrusts deeper, dissolving whatever you were about to say into a loud moan.
...
There is a thud and a sprinkle of plaster and ash, and a porcelain vase wobbling dangerously close to the edge of its console table, and your handmaidens, chef and two of the night guards stare at each other awkwardly.
"Do you think," whispered Elara, "they realize we can hear them from the kitchen?"
Mina finishes her tea, and produces a pack of earplugs "Not if I can help it. Take some, and goodnight." she stuffs two into her own and walks back to her quarters.
steve rogers x florist f!reader ⎯⟢ Steve is tired of his friends scheming about his love life, or lack thereof, so he decides to do a little scheming of his own. Now all he has to do is get through the next few months, his schedule full with carefully planned special occasions, all the while pretending to be madly in love with his only friend outside of the Avengers… how hard could it possibly be? Well, as it turns out, not that hard at all.
tags/warnings ⎯⟢ series: coming soon, some coarse language, not at all canon-compliant (takes place in a world where Civil War, Infinity War, and Endgame never happened), fluff, light angst, rom-com vibes, fake dating trope, friends to lovers, language of flowers, mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, meddling kids, absolute idiots in love, tw: some mentions of grief/mourning and minor character deaths, slow burn-ish, she falls first/he falls harder.
instalments:
ꕥ PROLOGUE. the florist and me [2.3k]
ꕥ ONE. four lies and two funerals
ꕥ TWO. pretty in periwinkle
ꕥ THREE. (100) days of spring
ꕥ FOUR. you’ve got flowers!
ꕥ FIVE. steve, enchanted
ꕥ SIX. it was love, actually
ꕥ SEVEN. downright clueless
ꕥ EIGHT. sleepless in louisiana
ꕥ NINE. definitely (not) just friends
ꕥ TEN. what centenarian supersoldiers want
ꕥ ELEVEN. 10 things she loves about me
ꕥ TWELVE. a big, fat avengers wedding (fin.)
6. Forehead kisses with Caleb while he pumps you full of his cum.
Check out the rest of my Horny thoughts list here.
Everything about this restaurant gleamed under soft golden lights, from the polished silverware to the spotless wine glasses on the table. The portions were small enough that Caleb spent most of dinner complaining about them.
"I'm serious," he said, eyeing the plate in front of him. "This can't be the entire meal. I've seen larger appetizers at gas stations."
"Baby, you already finished the bread basket."
Caleb shot you an offended look before cutting into his steak again. He'd finally stopped grumbling about the menu and settled into actually eating, looking far more relaxed than he had when you'd first arrived. His tie was loosened slightly, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and for the first time all evening he seemed content to sit back and enjoy himself.
Which, in hindsight, was probably why your timing was so terrible.
You watched him take another bite before the thought that had been circling your head for weeks slipped out before you could overthink it.
"I want to stop using condoms."
His reaction was immediate.
The fork slipped from his hand and struck the edge of his plate with a loud metallic clang. A streak of dark sauce splattered across the front of his shirt as he coughed violently.
A waiter froze halfway across the room.
An elderly woman nearby nearly choked on her wine.
For a few horrible seconds, the only sound in the restaurant was Caleb trying not to die.
You covered your face. "Oh my God."
"Would you like to repeat that?"
"Maybe after you recover."
Caleb looked down at the stain spreading across his expensive shirt and then back at you, disbelief written all over his face.
"Do you know how many opportunities you had to bring this up today?"
"No?"
"There was breakfast," he continued. "There was lunch. There was the drive here. There was the entire first half of dinner, and you waited until I had my mouth full of food?."
"I didn't plan it."
"You looked across this table, saw me actively chewing, and thought, yes, this seems like the ideal moment for a life changing conversation."
The more serious he tried to sound, the harder it became not to laugh. His composure wasn't holding up much better, a faint flush had climbed all the way to the tips of his ears, and every time he glanced at you it got worse.
"You're serious." It wasn't a question.
You nodded.
"You've thought about it."
"A lot."
His shoulders eased and something in his expression softened so completely it made your chest ache.
"This is embarrassing to admit now, but I actually had a whole conversation planned for this."
Your eyes widened. "A conversation?"
"A very good one. It had structure..."
"Oh no."
"It had bullet points."
You burst out laughing while he groaned and dropped his head into one hand. "Don't laugh."
"You made bullet points?"
His smile finally broke through and the sight of it made your laughter fade into something gentler.
"You're telling me you see a future with me and that's more than enough for me right now"
Silence stretched comfortably between you until a waiter appeared beside the table carrying a clean napkin.
The man glanced at Caleb's stained shirt, then at the two of you holding hands, clearly unsure of what he'd interrupted.
"Sir," he said cautiously, "would you like some assistance with the stain?"
Caleb looked down at the mess on his shirt again, looked back at you, and let out a long sigh.
"Do you have anything for emotional shock?"
🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞
Caleb was the kind of man who brought home the exact chocolates you liked from the store near the station, who tucked your stray hairs behind your ear with a thumb so gentle it felt like an apology. He loved you with the cleanest, lightest parts of his soul.
But that Caleb stayed outside when your front door thudded shut behind you.
The man who moved you against the wall was heavier. Darker. His hands locked onto your hips with bruising leverage that shoved your lower back flush against the plaster. His breathing was uneven, smelling of the dry red wine he’d barely touched before you threw that sentence across the restaurant table.
"You don't get to say things like that out there" your knees shook, the silk of your dress bunching up around your thighs as his fingers tore at the fabric "You don't get to put those images in my head while I'm trapped in a room full of strangers and then expect me to hold back." you were trembling, and he looked down at the tremor in your thighs with cold satisfaction. A quieter shadow had taken him over—the part of him that didn't know how to possess you without wanting to ruin you. He’d been holding that part back for years, keeping it chained behind soft words and careful boundaries.
Now, the chain was gone.
He dropped his trousers, hooked his forearm under your left knee, hoisting your leg high over his hip, and drove himself inside you.
The entry was dry enough to sting, a stretching heat that caught the breath in your throat. You let out a small, fractured sound, your fingers clawing at the rough wool of his jacket, looking for the Caleb who always asked if you were okay.
This version didn't ask. He gripped the back of your skull, his fingers tangling in your hair to hold your head still, and buried his mouth over yours to catch the noises you were making. He tasted like wine and years of starvation.
His hips slammed forward in a brutal rhythm that used the wall behind you as support. Every time he went deep, the heel of his palm pressed harder into your hip bone, keeping you pinned, making sure you took the full length of his cock.
"Look at you," he rasped against your lips, his teeth grazing the tip of your tongue before he pulled back just far enough to look into your eyes. "Taking my cock so well"
He lifted your other leg until you were entirely dependent on his strength to stay off the floor. The tip of his dick, in one unyielding thrust that went past the usual limits, pushed hard against your cervix.
"Caleb—wait," you cried out, your fingers tearing two buttons from his shirt as your head banged lightly against the plaster. " 'S too deep, baby. Ah, god..."
"How do you expect me to breed this tight little pussy, uh?" he leaned his full weight into you, pinning you immovably against the wall as his breath came hot against your ear. "I need to reach that spot so it takes."
To prove his point, he withdrew slowly, leaving you empty before bottoming out inside you again, harder this time. "Take it," he whispered, burying his face into the crook of your neck where he bit the soft skin over your collarbone. "Stay right here and take it."
He was turning your thighs into a collection of dark, finger shaped bruises as his control fractured under the tight clenches of your body.
The weight of his body, combined with the deep thrusts of his cock against your womb, broke something open inside you. Your walls spasmed, clamping down on him with an involuntary tightness.
That tight clench broke him. He let out a ragged groan, thrusting into you so hard the frame of the hallway mirror rattled. His whole body going rigid as he started to come.
But while his lower body held you trapped his hands softened. His fingers moved to cradle your face and he pressed his lips to your forehead.
The kiss was remarkably soft, tender and lingering— just the way he kissed you when you wake up on Sunday mornings. Below your waist, he was ruining you, his cock twitching and pumping you full of his cum. Against your skin, his lips were gentle, brushing over your damp hairline while he whispered "You're going to hold every single drop of me inside you tonight..."
He pressed another soft kiss between your eyebrows, his chest heaving as the final pulses shuddered through him "Think I can get you pregnant by morning?"
Out of all moments you could utter those words, you truly didn’t think it would be right now.
You just couldn’t help yourself, not when he had you bent into the mattress like this. The brutal pace of his hips falter, eyes widening slightly as he stares down at you. The intensity of his aether core had you squirming.
“You what?”
He bottomed out, pressing the dull head of his weeping cock into the soft, velvety wall of your cervix. He has to swallow a groan, you’re fucking ovulating.
“I-I want a baby, Sy…” you feel your lips trembling as you speak, one hand shaking as it detaches from his shoulder to cup his flushed, sweaty cheek. “Don’t say things in the heat of the moment you don’t mean, kitten.” He presses a little harder, punishingly, as if testing your resolve.
You mewl, hips instinctively jerking up but he grips your hips harder to drag you back down. “M’not saying something I-I don’t mean, Sy.”
You’re gasping, clenching around his throbbing cock as he mercilessly keeps you pinned in place.
“You’re speaking from a place of clouded judgment.” He reasons, not hurt or turned off, just trying to rationalize your sudden confession. “Sylus, I’m being s-so serious…!”
Still, he looks down at you quizzically. It sets a fire in your stomach, anger bubbling through the pleasure as you draw your other hand from his shoulder to grab on to the other side of his face. It was nearly a slap, enough to startle him into blinking down at you as if he’d just realized what predicament you were both currently in.
“Why is it so hard for you to believe I’d want to have a baby with you? You’re my husband, Sylus.” You were so full of him, so pressed together it was truly impossible to tell where one started at the other ended. Those words seem to rattle something deep within his core, the crimson of his eye grew blinding for a moment. “Say that again.”
“You’re my husband, Sylus. I want to have your babies.”
The metal of your wedding band had long since adapted to the heat of his skin, resting smoothly against his beautifully flushed cheekbone.
“Give me a baby, Sylus. I want your baby so bad, I want to have a family with you. M’not just saying it because you’re making me feel so-so good…”
He’s twitching, every word is sending his body into overdrive and yet his mind can’t seem to catch up. He’s staring at you, mouth cutely agape, unable to make his hips restart their motion. “Sylus, please.”
You attempt to move for him, but his grip is still iron on your skin. He’s keeping you in place, breathing heavy as he tries so desperately to sort himself. “Sylus, if you give me a baby, I’ll finally do it. I’ll join Onychinus.” Your last ditch effort, before adding oh so softly “Unless… you don’t want to have babies with me. I understand…”
There it is, the actual slap back to reality.
No words can convey what he wants to say in that moment, but thankfully, his body finally obeys him. You’re smothered by his mouth, lips melding perfectly against your own and swallowing up any doubts that had begun to creep into your mind. His hips move with brutal force once more, pounding you so deeply the bed creaks.
“There is nothing…” he’s gasping into your open mouth, your jaw having gone slack from pleasure. “…I’d want more in this life…” he’s so close, and judging by the way you’re clamping down around him, so are you. “…than to have a family with you. Don’t you dare ever think otherwise.”
If you weren’t melting from the pleasure radiating in your lower half, you’d give him shit for giving you such major whiplash. Though, you couldn’t necessarily blame him, could you? You did kind of spring this on him mid-fuck…
“Sylus m’gonna…” your hands slide back, leaving his face to bury themselves in the damp strands of silvery hair. You tug hard, crushing his lips against yours once more. You don’t need his verbal encouragement, not when his hand is slipping between your bodies to start circling your clit.
Your orgasm ruins you, stars spotting your vision as you nearly tug a chunk of his hair clean from his scalp. You barely process the fact that he’s cumming with you, filling you just as you asked him to.
“Thank you, thank you…” you manage, a lazy, breathless smile on your face as you pull away from him. Sylus, however, is smirking down at your fucked out expression.
“Don’t thank me until we know it sticks…” thumbing the sweat from your temple, he mutter softly. “Maybe a couple more rounds? Now that I know what you’re looking for me to do, I have to make sure I’m thorough…”
I’m tryna find my writing style again and now that I’m not flagged (yes imma bring this up all the time because I’m still so excited that my appeal was finally approved after two months lol) I have the motivation to write again… hopefully this is an okay read!
Check out the rest of my Horny thoughts list here.
5. “yeah? right there?” in a mocking voice with Rafayel.
Somewhere outside of Rafayel's room waves rolled against the rocks, the sound drifting in through the open window. He brushed a damp strand of hair away from his face, his skin warm from the heat. One hand remained tangled with yours against the sheets, and you could feel his steady pulse knocking hard against your palm.
He wasn't breathing through his nose anymore. Every intake of air was a short, dry rasp against the column of your neck. He didn't bite to leave a mark, he bit because his jaw was locked too tight to do anything else, his teeth catching the skin above your collarbone until you felt the sharp, stinging pressure of his incisors.
Nothing about the way he moved felt graceful now. The mattress creaked beneath his weight, the headboard knocking softly against the wall. He adjusted his position, one knee sliding between your legs to force them further apart.
Then his hips shifted.
The tip of his cock pushed against a rigid knot of nerves deep inside.
Your breath caught instantly. Your spine straightened, lower back lifting off the mattress, every muscle tensing around him in an involuntary clench.
Rafayel froze.
His rhythm broke. He didn't move for three full seconds, his chest rising and falling hard against your breasts. His eyes, usually half lidded and distant, dilated until the dark almost swallowed the color. He looked down at you, your mouth still hanging open from the shock of it.
The corners of his mouth twitched up, sharp and dry. The tension in his shoulders didn't leave, but that familiar, mocking lift returned to his brow.
He drew back slowly—just enough for the friction to tease the very edge of that spot—and then nudged it again with a hard thrust.
Your entire body reacted before you could think, trying to force him deeper.
"Yeah?" The rough amusement in his voice was unmistakable, the vibrations rattling through your jawbone. It wasn't soft, it was the smug tone he used when he caught you cheating at a card game. "Right there?"
"Don't—" You swallowed "Raf, move."
"Move where?" He stayed exactly where he was, shallowly grinding his hip bone against yours, the heat of him burning through the point of contact "Here?"
"You're doing it on purpose," your hand left his to dig into the slick skin of his shoulder, trying to pull him down.
"I'm not doing anything." He let out a breathy huff that was almost a laugh and pressed his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours, his breath hot and smelling faintly of the wine from dinner. "Tell me what you want, cutie."
You didn't answer. You arched your back again, a clumsy shove of your pelvis against his.
The playfulness vanished from his jawline, his teeth clicking together. "Fine."
He braced both forearms on either side of your head, his chest crushing down onto yours again as he drove forward. He didn't pull back out this time, he kept the pressure heavy, his hips rotating in small circles that caught that exact ridge of flesh with every single turn.
The sound of your breath turning into whines filled the space between your faces. Rafayel watched your eyes roll back, your focus splitting as the coil in your stomach tightened to a knot. His mouth came down on yours hard, his tongue forcing its way past your teeth to catch your moans, swallowing them down while the tip of his cock kept hitting the same spot over and over again until you were struggling to keep hold of a coherent thought and your walls began to shiver and give way.
⁀➴☕︎ | Papa!Caleb won't stand for his son disrespecting his wife
"Hey" You greet your son, ignoring the bag he's just flung onto the couch as he storms into the kitchen "How was your day?"
"What do you think?" He snaps, coming to stand across from you around the island "Everyone- and I mean, everyone went to the concert last night! No no-" He retraces his words, shaking his head "Not everyone because I was stuck at some dumb airshow I didn't even want to go to!"
You sigh, one of long suffering as you come around to put a hand on his shoulder "Hon, we talked about this. Your Dad was being commended at the event and as family, if we didn't go-"
Your son's obviously not listening to reason as he goes on, shrugging your arm off "Yeah? Well, then you should've gone alone! Do you know what it was like to sit there and hear everyone talk about what a great night it was and how much fun they had?" Flinging his arms around, he huffs "Steven even got to go backstage and grab signed posters"
Your usually sweet boy behaving in such a flippant manner was surprising but then again, going to highschool and adjusting to the workload obviously was not easy on him and you were trying your best to be understanding "How about next time they're in town, I'll get you VIP tickets?"
"God knows when that will be" He rolls his eyes, scoffing as he pulls off his hoodie "I'm sick and tired of missing out. You won't let me join the summer camp, I can't apply for the exchange program and I didn't even bother asking if I could participate in the annual fest because-" Making air quotes and twisting his face in a sneer, he spits out "-I have curfew"
Your brows furrow at that, frown pulling at your lips "Why wouldn't you sign up for that? We'd have given you permission and even swung by to check out the scene"
"Because you never let me do anything! I can't stay out a minute past my curfew without getting grounded. I have to trade in schoolwork for free time because you guys are too wound up. Cut me some fucking slack, Mom"
"Language" You immediately snap, like a reflex, and your son's face twisting further into annoyance is clear indication that you're proving his point "We let you do tons of other things, alright? Just because we have some non-negotiables doesn't mean we're being too much"
"Like what?" He's getting agitated by the second, voice pitching higher as a vein protrudes on his temple. And in that moment, with his amethyst orbs glinting with anger, he looked like a spitting image of his Father, almost making you do a double take.
"We took you to that gaming event you wanted to go to! And and- bought you the Lego set you wanted" Sighing, you step closer to him again and put your arm around his shoulders this time "You know we just care about your safety and that's why we want you home on time. When you go to college, you'll have all the freedom to do whatever you want. Is it so bad that we want our son to spend time with us right now?"
Slapping your arm away, your son picks up his hoodie from where he'd tossed it, seething in a scalding voice "Ever wondered if I wanna spend time with you, Mom? I'm kinda sick of you guys"
You can still feel the sting on your skin from where he'd slapped it away. Looking into his enraged eyes, you want to be patient with him, understand that it's coming from a place of burnout and stress with a heavy dose of feeling left out. But you can't help the hurt seeping into your bones at his flippant behavior, wondering when it became okay for him to dismiss your feelings.
He's brushing past you but stops short and even steps back. Not because he heard the sniffle you'd tried to suppress but because someone else had.
"Hey, buddy? Disrespect my wife again and you and I will cease having any blood relations till I put you in your place"
You hadn't even heard Caleb come in. But suddenly the entire room filled with his presence. Especially with the words he'd just delivered to his son, speaking in a tone so low that it was more threatening than if he had yelled.
"Now apologize to her immediately and never, ever speak to her like that again. You hear me?"
You want to tell him to stop. That you know your son was going through a rough patch and all teenagers behaved this way but you were too busy trying to hold the tears in to interrupt. Next to you, your son looks visibly pale. Sure, he admired and respected his Dad and almost never suffered any dire consequences for any mistakes he made but to see his father so visibly vibrating with the effort it took to suppress his anger, he was terrified.
When he fails to respond, Caleb's voice claps into the room like a lightning strike "Speak up, did you hear me?"
"Yes, sir" Your son is also on the verge of tears as he turns to you "I'm sorry, Mom"
You're about to respond but Caleb cuts in "Good. You're grounded for two weeks and will hand in your phone every night before bed. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir"
"Go to your room and tidy up. I'll be with you in a minute, we're going to address this little behavior properly" Your son has never faced his father's wrath this way and is desperate to make amends as he grabs your arm so you could shield him away like you always did.
Caleb's eyes drop to his trembling arms and he pulls you back against him, making him let go of you "No. You don't get to speak to her like that and use her as your defense too. She'll forgive you when she wants to"
You almost want to comfort your son when you see the kicked puppy look in his eyes as he sniffles, moving past you both to go upstairs and await further scolding.
For a long moment after he leaves, neither you nor Caleb move. He's still got his arm wrapped around your shoulder and after a tense moment, you lean into him "When did you get home?"
"Just in time to hear enough. We didn't raise him to be ungrateful like that. I almost threw him out of the house"
"Caleb-"
"No, Pips. He needs to learn that just because his Mother pampers him, he can't get away with talking to you like that" Turning you in his arms, Caleb bends to your eyelevel "And you need to stop letting him"
"He's just a little boy. Our little boy. You know he's had trouble adjusting since we moved last year. He's right, maybe we should cut him some slack"
"We can do that without excusing the disrespect" Kissing your shoulder, Caleb straightens "Let me talk to him, alright?"
He's about to walk away when you grab his arm "No matter what conclusion you come to, my son is not sleeping outside as punishment"
Smiling, Caleb presses a quick kiss into your hair "I'll try" When you give him a stern look, he laughs "I promise I'll try to be more...lenient"
You hear his footfalls on the staircase, a quick knock followed by the quiet thump of the door closing. As you start prepping for dinner, you relax more. Caleb pampered his son just as much, if not more. You trusted him enough to know he'd handle the situation with care.
You're putting the lid on the pot and clearing out the space when you feel arms around your waist, hugging you tightly from behind as your son sniffles against your back "I'm really sorry, Mom. I'll do better from here on out"
Smiling, you turn to hug him back "I'm really glad to hear that and-" You pull back till he's looking at you, nose red and eyes slightly puffy that indicated that he really did feel awful "-I forgive you, okay? Don't beat yourself up over it anymore" You squeeze him tightly once again and ruffle his hair before kissing his head "Now go freshen up before dinner"
He's exiting the kitchen, nodding at Caleb who was leaning against the doorway watching the entire exchange. Once he's gone, Caleb takes his place and wraps his arms around you, sighing deeply into your hair and making you laugh.
"How'd it go? I'm guessing good?"
"Hardest thing I've had to do in my life" Caleb admits as you run your fingers through his hair, patting his back while he tightened his arms around you "Thank God we didn't raise a troublemaker though I did promise we'll revisit the discussion for summer camp"
"You handled it well" You praise as Caleb pulls back to look at you, your fingers mussing up his hair into that cute, dorky look you'd first fallen in love with "Really well" At your conspicuous grin, your husband's eyebrows nearly touch his hairline when your fingers start twisting in his shirt "No one gets away with disrespecting your wife, huh?"
Caleb's fingers reach under your shirt, drawing patterns on your skin as he pulls you closer "You're my wife before you're his mother. He needs to learn that" Kissing your jaw, he nips at the skin as he whispers "So yes, nobody talks to my wife like that without facing consequences"
"Nobody?" You grin up at him.
Lowering his mouth against yours, Caleb's also grinning "Some of us have special privileges-" You jump when you hear your son's bedroom door shut again, trying to pull out of your husband's grip but he's insistent "Relax, babe. He knows how he was made and that the stock story isn't true"
Swatting his arm, you chastise "Caleb!" You're trying to escape his hold but it's hard to remember why you want to when he's got his hands on you like this and is kissing that secret spot under your ear like that "He could come downstairs at any time and- and...and dinner- oh"
Caleb's smirk is marred into your skin as he's bending your back over the counter "If we can make a baby when I'm D-12 minutes away from being wheels up, then this should be a piece of cake, right?"
1. Getting railed in every sundress you own to make up for lost time, with Caleb.
2.Hide and Seek with Sylus but then it turns into Find and Fuck.
3. Xavier's skincare is you sitting on his face.
4. Zayne loves your lingerie so much he doesn't take it off. He just pulls the top down and your panties to the side 90% of the time.
5. “yeah? right there?” in a mocking voice with Rafayel.
6. Forehead kisses with Caleb while he pumps you full of his cum.
7. Forced eye contact, chin held between fingers and being told in a calm, but firm voice "dont look away, I want to watch your face when you cum, with Sylus.
8.Cuddles that get sexual then sweet again with Xavier.
9. Bulge pics from work to show you that he misses you, with Zayne.
10. Rafayel kisses every single birthmark, scar, mole and freckle as he undresses you.
11. "I know baby" while you are cumming with Caleb.
12. Sylus fucks you so good you masturbate the next day thinking about it.
13. Thighjobs with Xavier
14. Suck on my fingers before I slide them inside you with Zayne.
15. Cockwarming while he sucks on your tits with Rafayel
16 Stroking his cock and not breaking eye contact until he cums all over you with Caleb.
17. Cockwarming after creampie with Sylus.
If you have any more ideas feel free to share them in the comments or anonymously 😉
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