Thinking about Butcher!Simon Riley with his sweet regular customer..
Simon Riley who doesn’t believe in starting over. Not really. Retired from the military, he’d traded one kind of blood for another. The butcher shop wasn’t much—small place tucked in the corner of Manchester, no fancy signage, no bright lights—but the regulars came. You came. Twice a week, Wednesdays and Fridays like clockwork.
Simon Riley—your butcher—moves with a kind of brutal grace behind the counter, sleeves rolled to his elbows, arms cut from marble and hard labor. You watch him work the cleaver like it’s an extension of his body. Focused. Calm. Every slice is deliberate, clean, respectful. There’s no waste in his motion, no hesitation in his hands.
You tell yourself it’s just the way he works—but your heart tells you otherwise. It stutters every time he glances up and catches you staring. You always look away too fast.
He’s seen things, you can tell. Something in the set of his shoulders, in the way he carries silence like a second skin. They say he was military once, but no one in the neighborhood asks. They just buy their lamb chops and brisket, nod respectfully, and leave him be.
But not you.
Sometimes you don’t even need anything. You come into his shop just to linger by the display case, pretend to think hard when he asks what you’re in the mood for, and always end up letting him choose. You like the way he speaks when he’s talking about cuts—like meat is an art form and he’s the only one who understands it. Like there’s a language in bone and fat and sinew, and he knows how to read it all.
He knows you’re into him.
You think he doesn’t notice—how your eyes linger on the flex of his forearms, how your breath catches when he tightens his grip on the knife. But he does. He knew from the first time you smiled at him over a pound of sirloin, all nervous and bright-eyed.
And he liked—more than he should’ve—how you smelled faintly of sugar and coffee when you leaned in to hand him cash.
It wasn’t anything serious. Not at first. Just a little dance. A tilt of your head, a brush of your fingers when he passed you the package. He told himself it was nothing.
But he starts saving the best cuts for you. Packs a little extra into your order. Keeps the shop open late on days when you run behind, just in case. It’s nothing. And it’s everything.
The day you tell him about your promotion, you’re practically vibrating. He can see it before you even speak. You ask—halting, hopeful—if he’d like to come over for dinner. Just dinner. Maybe.
He says yes.
Later, in your tiny kitchen, you cook with meat he cut for you himself. he watches you handle the meat. Sees the way your hands move, careful, precise, even if you’re nervous. You ask him how thin the slices should be. You ask him if he likes garlic. Ask if he likes bourbon. Fuck—darlin’, are you trying to get yourself a ring?
He’s still all knives and scars and quiet edges—but with you, he doesn’t have to be just that. So when you ask him if he wants to stay a little longer after dinner. With that soft, bright smile like you’re not afraid of what’s under his skin, something in him loosens. Maybe even heals, just a little. And he finds he doesn’t mind saying yes to that either.
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Sylus, who doesn't just call you kitten from the start, but also treats you like one. He can't help it. Not when you remind him exactly of a fierce, scraggly stray kitten, hissing and arching its back at him whenever he comes close.
After coming to understand how uncomfortable you felt around him, he decided to adopt a different approach to getting close with you. A less forceful approach- a plan you didn't realise was implemented even when you were finally pliant and comfortable around him like a relaxed fat cat.
He had to coax you, silently and gently encourage you to put away your claws and start trusting him.
When you were at the base and basically sticking to the opposite side of the room as him as if you were glued there, sometimes he'd pretend to be deeply curious about something in front of him, such as a book or artefact, and pretend to pour over it as he clicked his tongue softly.
As expected, and just like a cat, the sound would catch your attention, and when you realised he wasn't making the sound to gain your attention but just casually clicking his tongue because he was interested in something else, you would slowly approach with a little furrow in your brow. He tried not to laugh as you took slow steps around the edge of the room to come closer, you yourself pretending to be interested in other books and things to seem as if you just casually ended up near him, meanwhile you had been eyeing him from the corner of your eye the whole time, little interest in anything else.
Treats. You hadn't though deeply about why Sylus' pantries were stocked with your favourite snacks. After a few visits to his home, you would naturally make your way to the kitchen to grab your favourite treats without a care in the world, happily munching them like a stray cat that had been lured over by temptation.
At the base, you would also be able to find your favourite toys (the cool guns in his armoury) and your favourite games, such as kitty cards. The blankets and pillows in the guest room you stayed in were all made of your favourite soft material, so expensive it felt like sleeping on a cloud. Sylus even tried spraying his cologne in certain areas of the house so you would become accustomed to his scent.
When in his home, Sylus would make sure to give you plenty of alone time while still ensuring you were aware of his presence, so as not to intimidate you but also to make sure you knew he was around if you wanted to approach him.
And you did, sometimes peeping over his shoulder like a curious cat to see what he was doing. Or sitting on the kitchen counter watching him as he cooked. The distance slowly closed before you even realised it. But he knew, and he was torn between smugness and the happy trilling in his heart.
You remained blissfully ignorant as the comforts around you grew. You naturally relaxed into your surroundings and his presence, not even noticing Sylus had planned it this way from the start.
Even now, he watches you- in your own small home this time- lounging on a fluffy, pink bean bag situated in a spot of the living area that catches the sun's soft glows through the window, and can't help but liken you to a cat. Especially when the sun moves through the sky and your eyes crack open, an unhappy frown creasing the top of your nose because you are now in a shady spot and even with a blanket covering you, that will just not do.
He watches you stretch languidly, yawning, before dragging the bean bag to a new patch of sun and once again settling on it, falling into a comfortable nap once more.
He's come from the kitchen, and he approaches you to place a warm cup of tea beside you quietly. One of your eyes peek open to take him in.
"Sylussss," you whine sleepily, rolling onto your back. He squats in front of you and rubs the top of your head.
"Mm?"
You don't say anything else, just falling back into slumber, but he smiles and continues to pat your head. It's something he does often, and he wonders if you even realise that you've come to always expect these head pats, bouncing up to him when you're proud of something you've done and want his praise, waiting for his warm hand to tell you you did well.
Or when the two of you are just relaxing together, sometimes he'll scratch beneath your chin and you'll preen, lips twisting up in contentment and enjoyment, eyes falling shut as you lean toward him for more. You may as well have purred and rubbed against him in silent askance for more.
Of course, if you became aware of the fact he was treating you like a cat, you would start pretending to not like these small affections, so Sylus keeps quiet with his teasing.
Although, he thinks of how cute you'd be, turning away with a pout after discovering he had been treating you like a pet. He could almost see an imaginary tail flicking irritably. Maybe you'd even growl unhappily.
He chuckled quietly. Truly a kitten.
TW: Smut
Part 1 (Xavier)
Part 2 (Caleb)
Part 3 (Sylus)
Part 4 (Zayne)
You were sitting curled up on your couch, having resorted to losing yourself in the pages of romance novels over the last couple of weeks. Rafayel had been away on a work trip, leaving you with an emptiness that you tried to fill with the printed words and the promise of happily ever afters.
The book was just the kind you always liked, romance with some smut. Every time you stumbled across an oral sex scene, your fingers would linger, tracing the words and marking the page with a dog eared corner. It was a habit born out of a desperate need to overwrite the bitter memory of your past lover's words.
You could still hear his voice echoing in your mind, feel the cold sting of his criticism. The first time he had gone down on you, his nose had wrinkled in disgust. "I don't like the smell," he had muttered, pulling away and leaving you craving his touch. The taste, he had said with a grimace, was even worse. Those words had haunted you, making you question your own desire, your own worth.
You sighed softly, your fingers stilling on the page as you lost yourself in thought, remembering the few times Rafayel had tried to worship you with his mouth. Each time, you had pulled him up, stopping him mid motion, a flush of embarrassment painting your cheeks. You could never bring yourself to give him a reason why, too ashamed to admit the truth.
Rafayel had never pushed, always respecting your boundaries even as confusion clouded his eyes. He probably thought you simply didn't enjoy the act, that the idea of his head between your thighs left you cold. If only he knew the truth, that it was the exact opposite. The thought of his tongue exploring your folds, his lips sealing around your aching clit, made your core clench with need.
You shifted on the couch, your body growing warm as arousal began to course through your veins. The book forgotten as your mind drifted to fantasies of Rafayel's mouth on you, his hands gripping your hips as he feasted on your dripping sex. You wanted to fist your hands in his purple hair, wanted to grind your pussy against his face until you found your release.
A soft whimper escaped your lips at the thought, your thighs clenching together as you felt your panties growing damp. You were embarrassed by your own desire, ashamed of how much you craved the feeling of Rafayel's mouth on you.
Unable to focus on the words on the page any longer, you snapped the book shut, the spine creaking softly as you closed it. Rising from the couch, you placed the book on the small wooden table beside the lamp and made your way to the bathroom to shower, footsteps echoing in the empty apartment. Rafayel would be home in a few hours, and already your body was singing with anticipation, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest.
The water ran over your skin, washing away the lingering traces of your desire. But even as the heat soaked into your muscles, you couldn't shake the ache between your thighs, the constant hunger that only Rafayel could satisfy.
You tilted your head back, eyes fluttering closed. You bit your lower lip, a soft moan escaping you as you imagined him carrying you out of the bathroom, your naked body on full display as he brought you to the bedroom. You could almost feel his mouth on your breasts, his tongue swirling around the hardened peaks until you were writhing beneath him, desperate for more.
Suddenly you jumped slightly at the sound of Rafayel's voice, a thrill running down your spine at the realization that he was home. You hadn't expected him to be back so soon, figuring you still had a bit more time before his return.
"Just a moment, I'm finishing up in the shower!" you called out, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. Inside, your heart was racing, your body already responding to the mere sound of his voice.
You quickly finished rinsing the shampoo from your hair, the scent of vanilla and honey filling the steamy air. Turning off the taps, you stepped out of the shower, grabbing a fluffy towel and wrapping it around your body.
Back in your room you picked a simple sundress, the soft fabric falling to just above your knees. It was a dress you knew he liked, one that made his gaze linger on the way it hugged your curves.
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you stepped out of your room, your bare feet sinking into the plush carpet of the hallway. You could hear Rafayel moving around in the living room, the soft clink of glass on glass telling you he was likely pouring himself a drink.
You paused for a moment, gathering your courage before stepping into the living room. Rafayel stood with his back to you, pouring a measure of amber liquid into a tumbler. He was dressed in a button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of dark slacks that hugged his sculpted ass.
"Welcome," you said softly, stepping further into the room. "I'm glad you're back early." You couldn't help the way your voice wavered slightly.
The moment Rafayel turned to face you, his striking blue and pink eyes locked onto yours, they immediately darkened with a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat and in an instant, he was across the room, his long strides eating up the distance between you.
He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body flush against his firm chest. His eyes raked over your face, taking in every detail, the flush on your cheeks, the way your lips parted slightly as if in invitation. They drifted lower, lingering on the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts beneath the thin fabric of your sundress. You could feel the heat of his gaze like a physical caress, your skin tingling in its wake.
"God, I've missed you," he breathed, before lowering his head and capturing your lips in a kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the pent up longing and desire of the time you've spent apart, a kiss that spoke of a hunger that could only be sated by the feel of your body against his.
His lips moved over yours, his tongue delving into the warmth of your mouth to tangle with your own. You could taste the whiskey on his tongue, the smoky flavor mingling with the sweetness of his own unique taste.
His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The other hand on your waist tightened, pressing your soft curves against the hard planes of his body until you could feel every inch of him, from his sculpted chest to the growing bulge in his pants. He kissed you until you were breathless, until your head was spinning and your knees felt weak. He kissed you until you were clinging to him, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself against the storm of sensation he was unleashing.
"We can't... not right now, cutie," he said, his tone laced with regret . "Finish getting ready. I'm taking you back to my house, I have something I want to show you."
You nodded, your body still tingling from Rafayel's intense kiss and touch. With a soft sigh, you stepped back and made your way to your room to finish getting ready. As you walked away, you could feel his eyes on you, trailing over your curves, lingering on the sway of your hips as you moved.
In your room, you quickly finished what you had started, brushing out your damp hair until it fell in soft waves around your shoulders. You slipped on a pair of cute, strappy sandals that showed off the delicate arches of your feet and painted nails. A quick swipe of mascara, a dab of gloss on your lips, and you were ready.
You took a deep breath before stepping back out into the living room, finding Rafayel exactly where you had left him, seated on the couch, one long leg crossed over the other as he sipped his drink.
Your eyes widened slightly as you noticed the book was no longer on the side table where you had left it, but instead resting on the couch cushion next to Rafayel. A wave of embarrassment washed over you a deep blush spreading across your face
You hoped with every fiber of your being that Rafayel hadn't flipped through the pages, hadn't seen the dog eared corners marking the scenes you found particularly...stimulating. The thought of him reading them, perhaps even catching a glimpse of the words describing the intimate acts you secretly longed to experience with him, made your core clench and your heart race.
Trying to play it cool, you casually made your way over to the couch, stopping a respectable distance away from where Rafayel was seated. "Ready to go?" you asked.
"I'm more than ready," Rafayel murmured, his voice smooth like velvet. In one fluid motion, he downed the last of his drink, the glass clinking softly as he set it back down on the table. Rising to his feet, he towered over you, his tall body casting a shadow that made you feel small and feminine in comparison.
Without warning, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a teasing kiss. It was a mere brush of his mouth against yours and before you could even react, he was pulling away, his hand slipping down to the small of your back as he guided you out of the apartment.
🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡
As you stepped through the doorway of Rafayel's house, suddenly finding yourself swept up into his arms, you let out a surprised gasp that quickly turned into a fit of giggles. "Rafayel!" you squealed, instinctively looping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. "Put me down! I can walk just fine on my own."
Despite your protests, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement course through you at being held so effortlessly in Rafayel's muscular arms. He carried you bridal style, your dress riding up slightly to reveal a peek of your smooth, bare thighs.
Rafayel grinned at your laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made your heart flutter. "But I want to carry you," he insisted playfully, giving you a little squeeze as he held you close to his chest. "Buuuuuut, don't ever expect me to give you a piggyback ride, it will only make me look like a sea turtle" he teased, making you laugh even harder.
As Rafayel carried you into the living room, your laughter faded, replaced by a sudden gasp of surprise as you took in the romantic scene before you. The table was set for a fancy dinner, complete with a crisp white tablecloth, gleaming china, and a vase of fresh roses as a centerpiece.
But what caught your eye and made your cheeks flush a deep, telling pink was the painting hung on the wall behind the table. It was a stunning portrait of yourself, captured in a moment of unguarded joy and laughter. Your eyes sparkled, your lips were curved in a radiant smile, and your hair danced around your face as if caught in a soft breeze. The painting was breathtaking, his skills evident in every brushstroke.
"Rafayel..." you breathed, a mix of emotions clogging your throat. "When did you... how did you...?" You were at a loss for words, deeply touched that he had not only thought to create such a romantic setting for your dinner but had also painted your portrait and displayed it so prominently in his home.
Your heart raced as you met Rafayel's gaze, seeing the love and adoration shining in his eyes. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. "It's... it's wonderful," you managed to say, your voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, Rafayel.
"Puh-lease, you deserve much more than this" He said as he carried you closer to the table, letting you take in the romantic scene. "But I wanted to start by showing you, in my own way, how much you mean to me"
He set you down gently on your feet, keeping his arms around your waist as he looked into your eyes. The portrait loomed behind him, the painted version of you smiling down at the two of you, a silent witness to this intimate moment.
"Please, have a seat," he said softly, pulling the chair out for you like a true gentleman.
As you settled into the plush seat, he pushed the chair in, his hands coming to rest lightly on your shoulders. Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head before stepping around to take his own seat across from you.
As you both savored the delicious meal, Rafayel talked about his trip, painting a vivid picture of the places he'd seen and the people he'd met. He spoke of the beautiful landscapes, the fascinating art he'd admired, and the new techniques he'd learned, all while his eyes never left yours.
As the plates were cleaned and the wine glasses drained, Rafayel set down his napkin and rose from his seat. "It's time for dessert," he announced with a playful grin, turning to head towards the kitchen.
As he walked back to the table, he stumbled slightly, his hands both occupied with holding two small, beautifully decorated cakes.
Instinctively, you jumped up to help, not wanting him to struggle alone. "Let me help you," you offered, hurrying over to where he stood, trying to regain his balance. As you approached, Rafayel lost his grip on one of the cakes, watching in horror as it tumbled to the floor with a soft thud.
"Oh, damn it," he cursed under his breath, his brow furrowing in frustration. But before he could bend down to clean up the mess, you were already on your knees, carefully gathering the pieces and setting them aside.
"Hand me that napkin..."
Suddenly you felt Rafayel's hands slip under your armpits. Before you could react, he was lifting you effortlessly to your feet, his fingers splaying across your back.
Startled, you let out a soft gasp as Rafayel began to walk you backwards to the table, his eyes darkening with a hunger that made your skin prickle.
With a gentle push of his hand, he swept the empty plates and cutlery aside, clearing a space on the table in front of where he stood. Your heart raced as you realized his intention, a blush spreading across your cheeks at the thought of what he had in mind. "Rafayel," you whispered, surprise and anticipation coloring your voice. But any further protests were silenced as he sat you on the edge of the table.
He stepped between your legs, his hands coming to rest on your thighs, his fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh. There was a small, enigmatic smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"I have a different kind of dessert in mind," His hands slid slowly up your thighs, pushing the fabric of your sundress higher and higher until the cool air kissed the bare skin beneath. "And trust me, cutie... Im going to love every single bite."
Rafayel sat back down in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly spread your legs apart, revealing more of your smooth skin.
As he leaned in closer, his face was hovering inches from your knee when you suddenly clenched your thighs together.
Rafayel paused, his hands still in between your thighs as he tilted his head to the side, his expression a mix of curiosity "Wait," he said softly, "How is it that you have no problem reading such...delicious filthy things in your books, but when I want to make them a reality for you, you suddenly get all shy?"
He leaned back slightly, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he studied your face, trying to understand the contradiction in your behavior.
You took a deep, shaky breath, your cheeks burning with a fierce blush as you tried to find the right words. The truth hung heavily on your tongue, but you knew you could no longer hide from Rafayel, not when he was looking at you like that.
"Rafayel, I... I don't taste good down there," you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. Embarrassed, you turned your face away from him, unable to meet his gaze as you confessed your insecurity. "I'm sorry, I just... I don't want you to think that I'm not appreciative of what you want to do. It's just..."
Before you could finish your confession, Rafayel's deep, rumbling voice cut through the air, "How do you know that?" he asked, his thumbs pausing their gentle circles on your thighs as he waited for your answer.
You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to bring up an ex-boyfriend while in the midst of this intimate moment with Rafayel. But seeing no alternative, you took a deep breath and replied softly, "A guy I was seeing before you... he told me that."
Rafayel let out a soft laugh at your words "Oh, so it was one of those boys, huh?" he mused, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
At the sound of his laughter, you found yourself turning back to face him, your curiosity piqued. As your gaze met his, you were struck by the sudden intensity of his eyes, they blazed with a mix of amusement, affection, and a hint of something else.
Rafayel's hand slid slowly up your thigh, his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You know, y/n ," he murmured "I want to do absolutely filthy things to you, especially to this cute little cunt of yours."
As he spoke those dirty words, his hand reached the hem of your dress, his fingers dipping beneath the fabric to brush against the damp lace of your panties. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, could sense the way your body responded to his touch, even through the thin barrier of your underwear.
"But only if you let me," Rafayel purred, as he gazed deeply into your eyes. At the same time, he gently tugged your panties to the side and sank a single finger inside you, feeling your walls clench around the sudden intrusion. He groaned softly at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as he savored the feeling of your heat around his finger.
"And if you like what I'm about to do..." Rafayel said, his finger slowly pumping in and out of your tight cunt, "I won't be able to stop at just once. I'll need to taste you again and again until you are dripping down my chin.
He slowly pulled his glistening finger from your pussy, a low groan escaping his lips as he took in the sight of your arousal coating it and without a word, he brought his hand up to your mouth, his gaze locked onto yours.
"Open your mouth cutie ," he commanded softly, the tip of his finger brushing against your lower lip, smearing your arousal there. "Taste yourself on me. Taste how sweet and delicious you are."
You hesitated for a moment, your cheeks burning with embarrassment at the thought of tasting your own arousal. But the hunger in his eyes was impossible to ignore, his intense gaze daring you to comply with his command.
With a shaky breath, you parted your lips, allowing his finger to slip into your mouth. The moment it touched your tongue, you could taste the evidence of your desire, the faintly sweet and slightly musky flavor exploding across your taste buds. It was a new and intense experience, one that sent a shiver of excitement down your spine as you swirled your tongue around his finger.
Unable to hold back any longer, Rafayel acted on his primal instincts and in one swift motion, he bunched up the hem of your dress and brought the fabric to your lips, his eyes never leaving yours. "Here, hold this for me," his voice was thick with lust. "Bite down on it."
You reluctantly clamped your teeth onto the fabric, the action exposed your covered cunt to his hungry eyes, the damp lace clinging to you like a second skin.
He grabbed your hips, his strong hands gripping you possessively as he gently pulled you to the edge of the table. You gasped softly as he suddenly bent your right leg, exposing you even further to his greedy eyes. A shiver ran through you when he leaned in, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
He didn't dive in immediately, teasing you with a trail of soft kisses. His lips suckled at the delicate skin near your knee, his tongue darting out to taste you, to leave a path of fire in its wake. Slowly, torturously, he worked his way up your thigh, inching closer and closer to your center.
"Rafayel..." you whimpered around the fabric stuffed in your mouth, your hips writhing with anticipation.
Rafayel continued sucking dark hickeys into the soft skin of your inner thigh, marking you as his. Each one sent jolts of electricity zipping through your nervous system, making you squirm and gasp.
Just as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to bear the intensity of the sensations, Rafayel lifted his head and a breathy moan escaped your lips as you felt the ghost of his breath skating across your cunt. Instinctively, you tried to clamp your thighs together, but Rafayel was too quick, his hands gripped your knees, holding them firmly apart as he gazed at your glistening folds, barely concealed by the damp lace of your panties. "Don't hide from me, my cute miss bodyguard, I want to see all of you, taste all of you."
He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against the damp fabric as he inhaled deeply, taking in your intoxicating scent. "Fuck, you smell divine," he groaned.
You felt Rafayel hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties, the damp lace clinging to your sensitive flesh. With a sharp tug, he yanked them down your legs, the scrap of fabric sliding over your skin and baring your dripping pussy to his hungry gaze.
"Look at you," Rafayel growled "So fucking wet and ready for me. I've barely touched you and you're already dripping."
Instead of immediately giving in to the urge to devour you whole, Rafayel paused. He trailed his fingers lightly through your folds, feeling the hot, silky evidence of your arousal coating his digits. Slowly, teasingly, he circled your entrance with the pad of his thumb, applying a delicious pressure that made your walls clench and flutter eagerly.
You let out a soft whimper, your body aching for more of his touch. Rafayel looked up at you "Patience my petite artiste," he murmured as the rough pad of his thumb pressed against the swollen nub, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. At the same time, he slipped two long, thick fingers deep inside you, curling them just so to brush against that special spot that made you see stars.
You gasped and writhed beneath his touch, your body overwhelmed with the intense sensations. An arm flung over your eyes as you surrendered to the feeling, your breath coming in sharp, quick pants. Soft mewls and whimpers escaping as Rafayel worked you over with skilled fingers. Drool was beginning to soak the fabric you had been biting down on.
You could feel the heat of his breath puffing against your dripping folds, could sense how close his handsome face was to your core. The knowledge that he wasn't repulsed, that he wanted to taste you, to consume you, only heightened your arousal. Your juices flowed freely, coating his fingers and dripping down onto the table beneath you.
As you felt your climax building, your body tensing and coiling like a spring ready to snap, Rafayel changed his tactic. Just as you were on the edge of ecstasy, he dragged his tongue along your slit. The sensation was electric, sending pleasure shooting up your spine.
He started at your entrance, his tongue delving between your folds, lapping up the slick arousal that coated them. He groaned at the taste of you, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh and pushing you even closer.
You cried out, your voice echoing through the room as Rafayel's lips closed around your clit. Your hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as you clung to it for dear life. The fabric you had been biting down on fell from your lips, leaving Rafayel under the skirt of your dress.
"Oh god—" you gasped, your words dissolving into a strangled moan as he sucked even harder on your clit, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud.
Your hips jerked and bucked, trying to grind against his face, desperate for more of that exquisite friction. The feeling of his lips wrapped around your clit, suckling and teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves, combined with the thrust of his fingers pumping in and out of you was pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
"Oh fuck—" you panted, pulling your dress back, hands tangling in his hair as you held him against you, not wanting him to stop. Your walls clenched and fluttered around his fingers, growing tighter and tighter as your climax rapidly approached.
Rafayel!" you screamed, your voice breaking as the first waves of your orgasm crashed over you. Your body shuddered, juices gushing from your spasming cunt to flood his mouth and chin. Your hands gripped his hair harder, simultaneously pulling him closer and pushing him away as you rode out the crest of your climax.
A final moan tore from your throat as the last waves of ecstasy washed over you, leaving you feeling boneless. When your eyes fluttered open, you found Rafayel looking at you, his face glistening with your juices. He wore a smug, satisfied smirk as he took in the sight of you, wrecked by the force of your orgasm.
"Well?" he asked before he licked his lips, savoring your taste.
Suddenly, tears began to stream down your cheeks, your emotions running high from the intense experience. Rafayel's expression immediately shifted to one of concern as he took in your sudden distress. He gently removed his fingers from your core and brushed the tears from your face with his thumb, his brow furrowed in worry.
"Cutie, what's wrong?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern. "Did I hurt you somehow? I'm so sorry if I did..."
He trailed off as he noticed the way your shoulders shook with silent sobs, confusion etched across his face. Just then, a small hiccup escaped your lips, followed by a choked laugh.
"I can't believe I've been missing out on this all this time. Why did I wait so long to let you do that?"
Rafayel blinked in surprise at your words, then let out a deep, rumbling laugh. He shook his head, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Oh, cutie," he chuckled, his thumb brushing away another stray tear. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you never have to go without again."
When tumblr refreshes itself and the fic I was reading fucking disappears forever 💔
I’ve been searching for a smau I was reading for three days 😔
Warning: panty sniffing, masturbation
AN: I just wanted to write about my favorite panty sniffer.
Caleb x Reader
Caleb plans his panty raids like he plans his fleet mission: get in, get out, avoid casualties.
When he finally manages to get his treasure, he quickly runs from your room and into his own.
He unfolds your panties with shaky hands. They’re so cute. The color, the pattern, the lace. He can so clearly picture your pussy pressed against them.
The slick patch of the panties gusset draws his eye immediately. He licks his lips.
He pressed the panties to his nose, inhaling deeply. They’d been at the top of the laundry pile. It was a risky pair to take. They were the freshest but they were also the most noticeable if they went missing.
He scrambles to get his pants off and closes his eyes as he falls onto the bed. He pictures you hovering over him, your panties on full display for him.
He tongues the gusset of your panties. The taste still lingers and he tries to imagine what you taste like. How he’d eat you. His tongue slipping inside you. All the pretty moans you’d make for him.
He’d hold your thighs down while your hips roll. His nose would bump against your clit and you’d whimper for more.
Caleb laps at the taste of you on your panties. His hand reaches into his pants and he fists his cock, desperate for some kind of friction.
In his mind he could picture how you’d twitch and whine. How your hips would roll on his face. Your thighs would clench around his head as you get closer and closer to cumming into his mouth.
He’d treat you so good. He’d make you cum over and over again if you let him. It’s all he ever wanted. It’s all he’d ever dreamed of. In his mind, you were already his. You just needed to realize how good the two of you could be together.
Caleb cums with your panties in his mouth. His cum dribbles over his chest and hands. He’d cum so hard, a little got onto his chin. He gives your panties one last suck before finally putting
He’ll volunteer to do laundry this week. It’s the easiest way to hide his little thievery. It’ll also be the easiest way to get another pair.
Requests are Open!
self aware!m!rover x fem!reader
For a long time he felt alone, until you came along. The moment he could sense you take control of some of his movements and dialogue, he felt ... at peace. It was a feeling that he had been longing for.
He wasn't alone when he was traveling now, he didn't have to worry about companions that would come and go, and most importantly you would remain a constant during his journey, well, until he felt someone else take control.
He knew this person, your brother, you had complained about frequently when he would get on your nerves.
"Don't change my builds, ok? I just got Rover how I want him."
"You still main rover," your brother sounded surprised and a bit teasing as he moved rover around on the screen, much to Rover's dismay.
"He's my favorite character!"
"And here i thought it was Jiyan," your brother stated as he moved to a group of enemies.
Rover could see and hear your hesitation as your brother pressed down on the attack button.
"Well, Jiyan is pretty cool too," you muttered.
And rover could understand, to be honest, he always felt like he was competing for your attention anytime the general showed up on screen.
But moving on, Rover was starting to get tired of your brother. He didn't have the skills as you did. You were always careful to dodge and make sure a hit never landed on him, but your brother played with reckless abandon to the point that Rover's hp bar only a third full.
"Whatever you say, sis- Ow! The fuck?!"
He dropped the controller as you frowned and picked it up.
"What is it?"
"Your damn controller shocked me!"
Your brother rubbed his hand as he stood up to go "nurse" his hand. But you didn't see anything wrong with it anyway.
You rolled your eyes, "what a baby."
Turning to the screen, you hit the map button to teleport so Rover could be at full health.
Rover was glad you were in control again.
What if reader accidentally got pregnant with Harvick? Of course she was on time with taking the birth control, but this one time seems like it didnt work. And maybe he sniffs it out before she even starts to have the symptoms
Let's say this happens a few years after the pregnant reader fic.
When your period is a few days late, you don't think much of it. After all, you're busy taking care of your squirrelly three-year-old who grows more and more like his stepfather each day. Harvick is the best dad you could have hoped for and treats your child like his very own, taking him out to explore nature, reading him bedtime stories and playing with him to give you time to yourself.
One morning when they are at the store buying groceries, you fix yourself a sandwich and have to run to the bathroom to throw up because of the scent of fried eggs. The possibility that you're pregnant occurs to you then. Oh god. Did you forget to take your birth control? It's safe to say your day is ruined after that. You're going to have to tell Harvick sooner than later, but you decide to wait a little, just to make sure it's not a fluke.
You're definitely pregnant, and it hits you fast. You find yourself wondering if Harvick already knows. Is he acting more cuddly and touching your belly often? Is he being more gentle than usual when you make love because he knows?
One night you're out on a date (with your son staying with your mother for the night) when you drop your fork on the floor and it makes you burst into hormone-induced tears. Harvick takes you back to the car and you blurt out the truth. He starts to laugh, something he does when he's nervous, and you quickly go from tears to annoyed confusion. He soothes you with a gentle kiss.
"I've known for a few weeks, my love, but I didn't know how to tell you. It was driving me crazy."
"You knew before me? But it's so early, I just found out myself," you reply, and then you remember that he's a shifter. He can probably smell the change in your scent.
"I didn't want to scare you," he says softly, his gaze dropping to your belly.
"What do we do?" You ask, because even though he's never voiced it, you know he's unsure of you carrying his cub.
"Whatever you want, my love." He cups your cheek.
"Do you want this baby?"
"More than anything in the world," he says, reaching out to place his warm palm against your belly.
It's too early to feel anything yet, but his eyes glow with warmth. You're out of your seat before you know it, clambering into his lap. Uncomfortable car sex be damned, you need him now.
As it turns out, carrying a shifter baby is like a normal pregnancy on steriods. Harvick has always been the one with a lot of stamina in bed, but you're the one seeking him out multiple times a day now, sneaking in little fuck sessions whenever you can manage. Harvick spends the rest of his free time redecorating the nursery for the little one on the way, and you watch movies and cuddle as a family and talk to your baby bump as it swells.
Harvick is vigilant about seeing the doctor frequently to make sure everything is going well and a few months in, you find out you're having a girl.
@idle-monsters
warnings: baby fever, mating press, unprotected sex, cumming inside
art creds to @hercaptain and @narutoss.ramen
dilf!nanami who is the girl dad ever.
in fact, when dilf!nanami heard you were expecting girl twins, he was already ordering the matching pink strollers and cribs and little newborn baby onesies.
dilf!nanami who throughout your entire pregnancy, was plastered to your side, making sure your every need was meet, and constantly with a hand on your tummy, feeling for the little baby kicks.
dilf!nanami who when the babies were first born, was with you every step of the way, getting up out of bed at three in the morning if it meant his tired wife could get a few extra hours of sleep, feeding bottles to both of them if your breasts were too sore, rocking them in his big beefy arms and whispering how “daddy’s here”, and even strapping them to his chest in baby slings while he ran errands.
dilf!nanami who you can find cooing at your baby girls, making them giggle as he bounces them on his lap, blowing raspberries on their tummies and tickling them as he keeps them entertained for you.
and not only is dilf!nanami the best father, but he’s also the best husband.
dilf!nanami who after tucking in the babies to bed, tiptoes away to your bedroom.
because while he has to make sure the babies are tended to, he also needs to tend to his baby.
dilf!nanami who takes quick strides to your shared bedroom, wasting no time in sprawling his buff frame over you, pinning you easily down as he huffs hoarsely in your ear, “kids are asleep” while his bulge presses into your soft tummy.
dilf!nanami who is already half-hard at just seeing your chubbed belly and plush hips, your post-pregnancy body was just so tantalizing to him.
dilf!nanami whose hands roam your body with a desperate kind of need, squeezing and kneading tenderly as he places kisses all along your neck and jaw.
dilf!nanami who grunts lowly as your grabby hands reach for his cock, hastily pulling down his boxers until his length slaps against his stomach, spilling pearlescent beads of oozing precum across himself.
dilf!nanami who is huuung, swollen balls and thickened base all leading up to a perfectly symmetrical cock, the tip flushed an angry red and twitching wildly at your gaze.
dilf!nanami who quickly hooks a finger into your panties, shoving them aside before lining himself up, so heavy between your legs you can't help the small moan of anticipation you let out, wriggling your hips up impatiently.
dilf!nanami who only chuckles at his wife's eagerness, too quick to oblige as he begins to push in, past that first tight ring of muscle while you suck him in deeper.
dilf!nanami who groans at the greediness of your slobbering pussy, already trying to milk him for all he's worth as you clamp on tight around him.
"f-fuck, m'.. hah.. gonna cum if you don't stop sucking me in like that sweetie."
dilf!nanami who begins to roll his hips forward, filling you up inch by inch as your moans slur together, tongue lolling out dumbly.
he was just so big, you couldn't help it if you were already cock-drunk!
dilf!nanami who watches as your eyes roll back in your head when he starts up a mean pace, hips snapping into yours ferally while your spit-glossed lips hang open helplessly.
dilf!nanami whose hand comes down between your legs to stroke your twitching clit, the cool metal of his silver wedding band making you jolt with pleasure as you squirm under him.
dilf!nanami's baritone rumble of your name brings you back, as he suddenly throws your legs over his broad-framed shoulders, candied pink lips crashing onto yours in a craze as he folds you into a nasty mating press.
"wan' .. hah.. make ya a pretty mama again.."
"what?" you're gasping for breath, eyelashes fluttering as a familiar coiling heat begins to pool low in your tummy, winding closer with every harsh smack! of his hips into yours.
"can you do that f'me, my love?" dilf!nanami's words have begun to slur, eyes glossy as his throat bobs, pushing your legs up higher 'n higher. "have my babies again?"
drool has begun to seep out of the corners of your lips and with a mindless nod, you find dilf!nanami's hips bucking sloppily as he gets closer.
"say it."
you feel your tummy knotting achingly tight and with a hoarse cry you practically scream out, "k-ken' make me a mommy again! please!" before you're cumming, and cumming hard, creaming all over his cock until it's forming a little ring at his base.
dilf!nanami who is cumming seconds after you, your filthy words sending him over the edge with a soft groan as ribbons 'n' ribbons of hot, milky cum are shooting into you, filling you endlessly up until you're clawing at his back and crying with how stuffed you feel.
dilf!nanami who shudders and jerks over you, whispering small praises as the last wispy remnants of his seed empty into you, fingers coming to stuff the glossy dredges beginning to seep out of your ruined pussy back in.
you hiccup softly, whilst dilf!nanami shushes and coos at you to take it all, lovingly stroking your cheek and placing small kisses on your face while you recover.
dilf!nanami who after giving you a couple more orgasms and tiring you out, hears the babies begin to wail from the other room, tucking you in snugly before whispering “i’ll do it, you get some rest my pretty mama..”
© 2025 CHOSOSCUTIE. please don't copy or translate any of my works. all rights reserved.
LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!
tagslist: @stickyyyv4mp @iluvgogurt445
Since eid is coming soon:
Here's the LADS during eid :3
Sylus: he's preparing really good, nice clothes, sadaqa is out, the kids are getting a HEFTY amount of money. I'm sure he'll be oversitimulated mid day, sneaking you with him to the bathroom just so he can have a moment of peace, my baby :<
Xavier: he's preparing for a disaster in the toilet, he takes all offers of foods or sweets, which often can cause trouble un the digestive track. And considering he won't be doing much activity beside walking or swimming, he's having a good day and terrible night spent in the bathroom
Rafayel: all kids love him as usual, he's giving them good money, he's eating alot of sweets, the whole family is swarming him if he's a newlywed into the family. Probably getting way too overstimulated until you take him to the beach and then he's back to energetic uncle with the kids :D
Zayne: he looks like he's okay, he's not. He's stressing out the day before and during preparation, every detail has to be perfect from food to how he's dressed. When it's finally time to visit someone/ they're visiting, he gets to relax for a bit and eat some sweets finishing the whole tray
Caleb: a more energetic and lovely version of the ramadan edition, the kids climbing tree, swimming floaty, the perfect uncle. He's definitely having trouble with all food or sweets offered to him but he can't decline out of politeness :<
This was very messy, fasting has its effect on me
Final chap of my Zayne angst. Lemme know if you want to get tagged.
Ow, what the hell?
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